Understanding On-the-Record Rules: Lessons from the Halligan Case
For anyone working in PR, communications, public affairs, or advising leaders who speak to the press, the Lindsey Halligan text exchange is worth examining closely. It’s a live example of how a single misunderstanding of media protocol can become a reputational risk. I recently appeared on the Brian & Company podcast discussing this very topic and why the stakes around misunderstanding media rules are higher than ever.

What Happened (And Why It Matters)

Interim U.S. Attorney Lindsey Halligan spent 33 hours in an active text exchange with legal affairs journalist Anna Bower. The conversation was on the record the entire time. Then, after the exchange was well underway, Halligan sent a message attempting to declare everything she had already said as off the record.

That’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card. It’s not even a misunderstanding. It’s a fundamental breakdown in how people in power are supposed to interact with the press. And it’s a problem because Halligan isn’t just any source. She’s the face of the Department of Justice in one of the most politically volatile moments in recent memory.

You Don’t Get to Reverse the Record

Let’s be clear; this isn’t a gray area. You can’t talk to a reporter for hours, drop legally sensitive commentary, and then later decide you’d rather it hadn’t happened. “Off the record” is not retroactive. It’s a boundary that has to be negotiated before anything is said, not after 33 hours of texting.

Any first-year press secretary knows this. Any competent comms director has it tattooed on their soul. So the idea that someone sitting in a federal prosecutor’s chair didn’t grasp that is… alarming. Or worse: maybe she did understand. Maybe she just thought the rules didn’t apply to her.

The DOJ’s Response Was a Bigger Failure

Rather than walk this back with humility or even procedural cleanup, the Department of Justice opted to go on the offensive against the reporter. In an official statement, they suggested that because Bower published the exchange, she would no longer be trusted by DOJ sources.

This was a signal to the press corps: fall in line or lose access, which raises the bigger issue. In an administration that claims to value transparency, we are once again watching power protect its own by punishing the people trying to report the truth. The target shouldn’t be the mistake, but rather the person who exposed it.

Journalism Isn’t the Enemy

Anna Bower didn’t do anything wrong. She followed the rules that exist to protect both sources and the public. Journalists operate under professional ethics and are not mind readers. If a source doesn’t request off-the-record terms before speaking, that’s on the source. And to be blunt: this wasn’t just any source; Halligan is an officer of the court. She should know better. And if she doesn’t, she shouldn’t be in the role.

The Real Damage Is Institutional

Let’s be honest: this instance feeds into something bigger—an ongoing collapse in public trust. When someone in power fumbles the basics of media protocol and then turns around to blame the reporter? People notice. It reads as cowardice, and every time it happens, faith in institutions (DOJ, the press, all of it) takes another hit.

And the irony? The journalists catching the fallout are the ones actually doing their jobs. They’re not overpaid, they’re not coddled, and they’re definitely not immune to backlash. But they keep going because they still believe the public has a right to see what’s happening behind closed doors. That’s what’s at stake here.

The Bottom Line

This isn’t complicated. If you’re going to speak to the press, know the rules. If you’re going to lead a major federal office, know them cold. And if you get caught making a mess, don’t try to shoot the messenger. Because here’s the thing about credibility: once it’s gone, no text message can bring it back.