On March 28, 2025, a storm of controversy erupted over a leaked Signal chat involving top U.S. defense and intelligence officials, notably Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, and surprisingly, a journalist from The Atlantic. The chat allegedly contained sensitive details about military operations in Yemen, including timing, targets, and specific weaponry like F-18s and drones, sparking widespread indignation.
Democrats have demanded Hegseth’s resignation, labeling the incident a national security breach. However, a closer look reveals this might be more of an embarrassing blunder than a prosecutable crime, raising questions of negligence rather than criminality.
Firstly, was it illegal for these officials to use Signal, an encrypted app, for official communications? Not necessarily. While Signal isn’t authorized like SIPRNet for classified communications and Pentagon rules generally restrict commercial apps from handling “non-public DoD information” without authorization, its use is not inherently unlawful. Officials have historically used Signal for unclassified matters, often with tacit consent. The issue hinges not on the app itself but on the content shared. If it was logistical coordination, it might be procedural negligence, not a crime. Classified battle plans would make it more problematic, but more on that later. The mere existence of a Signal group isn’t the bombshell critics suggest.
The critical question remains: Was the leaked information classified? We don’t know, and that’s the issue. The Atlantic reported specifics like “1415: Strike Drones on Target,” which experts claim suggest “Secret” or “Top Secret” due to their operational sensitivity. Former Pentagon figures have termed it a clear security breach, arguing such details could alert adversaries like the Houthis, risking troops and missions. Yet the Trump administration maintains no classified data was shared, and Hegseth, as the classifying authority, could declassify it on the spot (though there’s no sign he did).
Classification is crucial but not the full story. Under the Espionage Act, even unclassified “national defense information” (NDI) may be protected if disclosure harms the U.S. or aids a foreign adversary, though this is subjective. In this case, the info was released after the fact, complicating proof of actual harm.
Could exposing such information to someone unauthorized, like a journalist accidentally added to the chat, be criminal? Not necessarily. The Espionage Act (18 U.S.C. § 793) demands intent—willfully sharing NDI knowing it could harm the nation. The penalties are severe, up to 10 years in prison, but accidental leaks seldom meet this criterion. Consider Jack Teixeira or Chelsea Manning, who willfully leaked secrets. Here, reports suggest Rep. Michael Waltz added the wrong number, a mistake, not a conspiracy. If true, intent is missing, and criminal charges falter. Even if the info was classified, unintentional exposure could breach DoD policy, risking reprimands or firings, but isn’t automatically criminal.
For sensitive-but-unclassified data, the risk is even lower: a minor reprimand, not jail time. Gross negligence could theoretically invite legal repercussions, but prosecutions are extremely rare.
This leads us to the central uproar: if unintentional, can anyone be charged with divulging state secrets? Likely not. The law’s high threshold for intent protects the chat’s participants from espionage charges. There’s no evidence they intended to disclose information to The Atlantic. At worst, it’s negligence—a lapse in judgment during an era of tight scrutiny. Critics may claim such negligence borders on recklessness, particularly if it identified an undercover CIA officer (as suggested).
But without intent, calling it a crime is a stretch. Investigations by Congress, the DoD Inspector General, or the FBI might explore the damage and accountability, but indictments seem unlikely.
The Federal Records Act adds complexity: Signal’s auto-delete feature could circumvent transparency laws, increasing perceptions of incompetence or a cover-up. Still, carelessness isn’t criminal, and there’s no evidence of deliberate concealment. Why the calls for resignation? Critics cite public trust, but politics and optics drive the push. Democrats, who opposed Hegseth from the start, are eager to find any reason to remove him. Ironically, if he’s ousted, another Trump appointee would likely replace him, whom they’d similarly detest.
In reality, the ‘Signal-gate’ uproar is more about distraction and pent-up frustration. It’s not just this incident fueling their ire—it’s a broader disdain for Trump and Musk. With over three years left in this administration and no way to alter that, critics resort to nitpicking, hoping to build momentum for the 2026 midterms and the 2028 presidential race.
Let’s not overreact. No troops were harmed. No operations failed (that we know of). The journalist published the information post-strikes, minimizing immediate damage. Compared to Edward Snowden’s massive leaks or Reality Winner’s espionage conviction, this is a slip-up, not treason. Hegseth’s supporters contend it’s a partisan attack, with Democrats exploiting an error to undermine a Trump loyalist. The uproar seems disproportionate for an unconfirmed breach.
Here’s my take: the legal case is weak. No intent, no clear crime, just a mess of uncertainties.
