Culling Complaints

For the first time in recent memory, the Office of Special Counsel isn't struggling under stacks of old complaints filed by federal whistleblowers.

A year ago, when Scott Bloch took over as chief of OSC-a small, independent agency created in 1978 to uphold federal merit system principles-there were more than 600 cases in the pipeline involving whistleblower allegations of fraud, waste and mismanagement. Now, hardly any disclosures have been sitting longer than the 15 days federal law affords OSC to review them and decide whether they warrant further investigation.

Early in 2004, OSC also was struggling to deal with 200 old complaints of illegal political activity and 500 prohibited personnel practice cases that hadn't made it through an initial screening process in 60 days, the upper limit of what agency officials consider a reasonable waiting period. With the help of OSC's most seasoned attorneys and investigators-many of whom are unaccustomed to seeing cases until they've been vetted by junior staff members-Bloch has managed to nearly eliminate these holdups as well. "We're sending the message out that we mean business," he says.

Bloch even reviewed a few of the older complaints himself. "I wanted to emphasize to the staff . . . that people who had cases sitting here for too long had [experienced] a second injustice," he says. "You can give people no better reparation than to take their claims seriously."

Now, only one obstacle stands between Bloch and complete victory over OSC's case logjam. It's an issue he has dubbed the "silent backlog"-because it has thus far escaped much attention-involving the prohibited personnel practice complaints (allegations of whistleblower retaliation, discrimination, or other violations of merit system principles).

While few, if any, such complaints are now stuck in OSC's intake, or "complaints examining," unit awaiting initial screening, about 120 have cleared that first hurdle only to end up in limbo. They remain under investigation, without being dismissed or prosecuted. Some have been stuck for years, Bloch says.

The wait simply "prolongs the agony," says one federal employee who saw his allegations pass through OSC's initial screening in about six months only to stall. The employee, who asked to remain anonymous, has talked to at least five investigators, visited a counselor to deal with stress and paid an attorney tens of thousands of dollars to assist him. At first, he just wanted his record cleared of low performance ratings he believes he didn't deserve. Now he mostly wants closure.

That may come in the next few months, because Bloch is intent on eliminating the silent backlog in 2005. Observers hope that reaching this goal doesn't come at the expense of giving each case the scrutiny it deserves. It's difficult to find the right balance between speed and attentiveness, says Elaine Kaplan, Bloch's predecessor. "I wanted to be sure that when we closed a case, we could defend our decision," she says. "That requires . . . that the staff spend more time on the phone or in person communicating with the whistleblowers and others [seeking] assistance."

Jeff Ruch, executive director of the advocacy group Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility in Washington, says he thinks OSC isn't looking at cases as carefully as it has in the past. In a recent conference call, he says, it became clear that one of the OSC staff members participating hadn't read the 12-page whistleblower disclosure case in question.

Bloch argues that if anything, the quality of work at OSC is improving. Staff members are spotting more cases that need further investigation, he says. The percentage of prohibited personnel practice cases and whistleblower disclosures found to have merit has doubled in the past year.

"It would be easy to [eliminate] the backlog if you didn't look at the complaints seriously," Bloch says. "[It's] important that each person gets full and fair justice."