Nadia has read the first page three times when she finally calls the person who sent it. “Are these real?” The answer comes right away. “Yes.”
On her screen is the cost of the city’s most popular new project. Officials gave the public one number. The private records show another. A much higher one.
This isn’t a guess. It isn’t a rumor from someone who’s angry about losing a contract. The numbers are right there. So are the records showing what officials knew when they gave taxpayers a different story.
Nadia goes through the files again. The story is there. The proof is there. The public was asked to support the project without being told what it would really cost. She opens a new draft. The headline comes quickly. So does the first paragraph.
Then she reaches the files she’d need to publish with it. Mixed in with the proof are private records about regular employees. People who didn’t approve the project. People who didn’t mislead anyone. People whose personal information has nothing to do with the story.
Nadia could publish everything now. Readers would see the proof for themselves. Officials couldn’t brush it off as one reporter’s opinion. But the employees’ private information would go out too. Once it’s online, it can be copied. Downloaded. Shared. Saved somewhere Nadia can never reach.
She could hold the story instead. Take the time to remove the private information. Publish the proof only after the employees are protected. But until then, the public won’t know what the records show.
Nadia looks at the finished story. Then at the files attached below it. The publish button is ready. The private information is still there.
So now your finger is over the button. Do you publish the documents because the public needs the proof? Show people the truth, even though innocent employees will be exposed with it. Or do you wait until the private information can be safely removed? Protect the employees first, even though the proof stays hidden while you do it.