A NOTE ABOUT SECRECY
W
hen I joined the CIA in 1983, new hires were required to sign a
secrecy agreement during the first week of orientation at CIA head-
quarters in Langley, Virginia. Signing the agreement was (and is) a legiti-
mate condition of CIA employment.
Essentially, we agreed that, in order to protect American national secu-
rity interests, we’d never reveal classified information, the “secret stuff” we
were about to learn or become involved with in the future.
As someone fresh out of law school, I was torn about whether to sign
or not. We were signing away some of our Constitutional rights. I found
it ironic that those of us who were committed to defending and protecting
the Constitution, by engaging in risky covert operations overseas, actually
had fewer Constitutional rights than our fellow citizens.
But that was the price of admission: if you want to work for the CIA,
you have to sign the secrecy agreement. If you find it distasteful or unac-
ceptable, then the job is not for you.
Part of the agreement requires current and former CIA officers to
submit anything they wish to publish to the CIA for approval, prior to pub-
lication. The CIA’s Publications Review Board reviews the material and
works with the author to ensure no classified information is revealed in the
book or article. I have been through the process before (prior to publishing
an article entitled “Betrayal in the Balkans”) and found the process for the
most part to be fair and reasonable. The irony is that some of the mate-
rial I’m forbidden from publishing is already known—not just suspected,
but known—by both friendly and enemy governments alike. The net effect
is we keep these “secrets” only from average Americans, who you could
argue have a right to know at least as much as our enemies do.
I have no wish to compromise our national security by betraying real
American secrets. I believe it’s possible to tell my CIA-related stories in
such a way as to not disclose classified information.17