05/31/2026
PROSECUTORS, REMIND ME AGAIN WHO YOU WORK FOR?
There is a question growing in communities all across America, and the longer it goes unanswered, the louder it becomes.
Who exactly do you work for?
Do you work for the people?
Or have too many elected officials forgotten that they are servants of the people?
Because prosecutors are not kings.
They are not emperors.
They are not legislators.
They are not judges.
They are not the authors of the law.
They are public servants.
They are elected by the people, funded by the people, entrusted by the people, and expected to serve the people.
The people cast the votes.
The people pay the taxes.
The people fund the offices.
The people fund the vehicles.
The people fund the investigations.
The people fund the retirement plans.
The people fund every computer, every desk, every conference, every training seminar, every courtroom appearance, and every paycheck.
In many jurisdictions across this country prosecutors earn between 160,000 annually.
Meanwhile, the average household paying those salaries often makes half that.
The people work.
The people sacrifice.
The people pay.
And in return they expect one simple thing:
Protect the innocent. Hold criminals accountable.
Yet somewhere along the way, too many prosecutors seem to have forgotten that simple mission.
Because every election season we hear the same promises.
"Tough on crime."
"Protecting children."
"Standing with victims."
"Keeping communities safe."
Those words look fantastic on campaign signs.
They sound fantastic in television commercials.
They sound fantastic during election year.
Then election year ends.
Reality begins.
And suddenly the same offices that promised to protect children become masters of excuses.
"We can't accept that."
"ICAC is the gold standard."
"You're not law enforcement."
"Let the professionals handle it."
Interesting.
Because the professionals themselves will often tell you the system is overwhelmed.
Let's talk about that.
America has approximately 73,000,000 children.
Seventy three million.
Now let's compare that number to the resources dedicated to fighting those who seek to exploit them.
The ICAC program receives approximately 8,181.81 per affiliate.
Then we hear about approximately 10,800 arrests annually.
Across 5,500 affiliates.
That's roughly 2 arrests per affiliate per year.
Two.
Not two hundred.
Not twenty.
Two.
And before anyone gets offended by that reality, understand what that means.
It doesn't mean investigators aren't working hard.
It doesn't mean law enforcement doesn't care.
It means the problem is bigger than the resources.
Much bigger.
Everyone knows it.
Law enforcement knows it.
Parents know it.
Victims know it.
Predators know it.
There are not enough investigators.
There are not enough task force officers.
There are not enough detectives.
There are not enough prosecutors.
There is not enough funding.
There is not enough manpower.
There is not enough time.
That isn't an insult.
That's reality.
So when citizens, watchdogs, investigative journalists, advocacy groups, and community members step forward with evidence, what should happen?
The answer should be simple.
Review it.
Analyze it.
Verify it.
Corroborate it.
Investigate it.
Apply the law.
Instead, far too often, evidence gets dismissed before it is even examined.
Not because it lacks merit.
Not because it lacks substance.
Not because it lacks probable cause.
But because some prosecutors have become more concerned with where evidence came from than what the evidence actually shows.
That should terrify every parent in America.
Because prosecutors are not elected to determine whether they personally approve of who uncovered evidence.
They are elected to determine whether criminal statutes have been violated.
That distinction matters.
A lot.
Let's talk about the law.
Many solicitation statutes across America contain language remarkably similar to:
"If the actor knows or believes the individual to be under the age of..."
Read that again.
Knows.
Or believes.
Not actually is.
Believes.
Why?
Because lawmakers understood something fundamental.
The danger isn't merely the existence of a child victim.
The danger is the intent of the predator.
The danger is the willingness of an adult to pursue what they believe is a child.
The danger is the mindset.
The conduct.
The pursuit.
The decision to cross a line that civilized society has declared absolutely unacceptable.
The law recognizes that.
The public recognizes that.
Victims recognize that.
Yet somehow prosecutors continue creating hurdles that legislators never wrote into the statute.
And that's where the frustration begins.
Because prosecutors are not lawmakers.
They are not elected to rewrite statutes.
They are not elected to amend legislation.
They are not elected to create new requirements because they find existing laws inconvenient.
They are elected to enforce the laws as written.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
And nowhere is that responsibility more important than crimes against children.
Because let's stop pretending these crimes are just another line item in a case management system.
They aren't.
A burglary can steal property.
A fraud can steal money.
A robbery can steal possessions.
A crime against a child can steal an entire future.
It steals innocence.
It steals trust.
It steals security.
It steals confidence.
It steals childhood.
It steals peace.
It steals the ability to view the world as a safe place.
And unlike stolen property, innocence cannot simply be returned.
There is no insurance claim for a shattered childhood.
There is no reimbursement check for years of trauma.
There is no replacement part for trust.
The damage follows victims for decades.
Sometimes for life.
Long after the headlines disappear.
Long after the court hearings end.
Long after everyone else moves on.
The victim is still carrying it.
Every day.
Every month.
Every year.
The consequences spread into families.
Into marriages.
Into communities.
Into future generations.
The ripple effects are impossible to fully measure.
That is why so many Americans view crimes against children as among the darkest acts a human being can commit.
Because murder takes a life.
Child exploitation often destroys a life while forcing the victim to continue living with the damage.
And that reality should weigh heavily on every prosecutor who swore an oath to serve the public.
The public is not asking prosecutors to abandon due process.
The public is not asking prosecutors to abandon constitutional protections.
The public is not asking prosecutors to abandon ethics.
The public is asking prosecutors to stop hiding behind bureaucracy, politics, comfort, and excuses when children's safety hangs in the balance.
Review the evidence.
Apply the law.
Follow the facts.
Do the job.
Because the people already did theirs.
They worked the jobs.
They paid the taxes.
They funded the offices.
They cast the votes.
They placed their trust in you.
You were elected by the people.
You were funded by the people.
You were entrusted by the people.
And when it comes to protecting children, the people are becoming increasingly tired of hearing why something cannot be done.
They want to know what will be done.
Because protecting children should never be the lowest priority in the room.
Not in America.
Not in any county.
Not in any city.
Not in any courtroom.
And certainly not from officials who campaigned on being tough on crime.
The public sees the headlines.
The public sees the plea deals.
The public sees the dismissals.
The public sees the excuses.
And more importantly, the public sees the victims.
So here's the question that every elected prosecutor should ask themselves before the next campaign season arrives:
If protecting children is truly your priority, then why are so many ordinary citizens fighting harder for them than the officials elected, funded, and entrusted to do exactly that?
