Written by Jonathan Harper.
Tulsi Gabbard, stepping into her role as Director of National Intelligence, didn’t waste time. On February 25, 2025, she declared war on a clique of National Security Agency staffers caught swapping lewd banter on a government system meant for serious business. These weren’t hushed whispers by the water cooler—this was taxpayer-funded filth, and Gabbard’s swinging the axe.
The Dirty Details Come to Light
It all unraveled when City Journal dropped a bombshell report. Two journalists, Christopher Rufo and Hannah Grossman, dug up emails from the NSA’s Intelink platform—a secure network built for classified chatter, not personal confessions. What they found? A cesspool of explicit exchanges dating back to the Biden years, where employees aired out everything from gender surgery tales to bedroom preferences. One staffer crowed about the thrill of laser-zapping private parts. Another waxed poetic about estrogen’s perks for growing breasts. A third—over at the Defense Intelligence Agency—gushed about post-castration bathroom ease.
Gabbard didn’t blink. That same Tuesday, she took to Twitter/X: “Memo sent. We know who they are. Action is underway.” Her office fired off a directive—round up the culprits across all intelligence outfits, sack them, and yank their clearances by week’s end. Screenshots from the report showed the rot wasn’t subtle. One worker called their reassignment surgery “everything,” raving about new sensations—then griped taxpayers didn’t pick up the tab. This wasn’t a slip; it was a culture.
How’d it get this far? Over 100 employees from 15 agencies—NSA, CIA, you name it—turned Intelink into their personal X-rated diary. Channels like “LBTQA” and “IC_Pride_TWG” became dumping grounds for polyamory rants and fetish talk. Imagine a banker bragging about kinks on the company Zoom call—except here, the stakes involve national secrets, not quarterly earnings.
A Breach Beyond Bad Taste
This wasn’t some fleeting lapse. The chats stretched back to 2022, a slow burn of misconduct that somehow flew under the radar. Intelink’s purpose is crystal clear: swap intel on threats—terrorism, espionage, cyberattacks—not dissect personal surgeries. Yet here were staffers, some mid-level, some higher, treating it like a locker room. One boasted their procedure was “100000000% worth it”—hyperbole aside, the audacity stinks when you’re on the clock protecting America.
Gabbard’s memo wasn’t gentle. She’s not just firing them—she’s torching their careers. No clearance, no intel gig, period. Over 100 names, and counting, face the chop. It’s a purge, plain and simple, and she’s framing it as a trust issue. “These people betrayed their duty,” she told Fox News later that week, her tone clipped, no-nonsense. The public’s left wondering: if they’re this loose with a secure system, what else got ignored?
Numbers tell part of the story. The NSA employs about 30,000—meaning this is a fraction, sure, but a loud one. Compare it to a corporate scandal: if 100 Google engineers hijacked internal servers for smut, heads would roll too. The difference? Google doesn’t guard nuclear codes. This hits harder because the mission’s sacred—no room for distraction when you’re tracking enemy moves.
Ripples Through Security and Beyond
Think about the NSA’s job: intercepting chatter, cracking codes, keeping the homeland safe. Now picture an analyst, mid-shift, typing up a ode to hormone therapy instead of flagging a threat. It’s not a stretch to say this could’ve cost us—maybe it did. Gabbard’s banking on that fear, pushing her cleanup as a reset button. She’s got Trump’s backing too; he’s long preached discipline in the ranks, and this fits the script.
It’s not just internal either. Look overseas—agencies like Britain’s GCHQ or Israel’s Mossad don’t mess around with workplace nonsense. A 2021 UK study found 1 in 5 public sector workers misuse office tech, but nothing this brazen. Private firms boot staff for less; Tesla sacked a guy in 2018 for tweeting trade secrets. Here, the bar’s higher—yet these folks cleared it in the wrong direction. Snowden’s leaks a decade back showed NSA overreach; this time, it’s underreach, a self-inflicted wound.
The web’s buzzing with takes. Some call it a “woke” implosion—others, just human folly. Either way, it’s a black eye for an outfit already dodging trust issues. Gabbard’s betting her crackdown restores faith, but she’s got to plug the leaks—literal and cultural—that let this fester. Over 100 firings might jolt the system awake; anything less, and it’s a Band-Aid on a broken dam.
Our Take
Gabbard’s swinging hard, and it’s about time. This isn’t petty gossip—it’s a betrayal of what the intelligence community stands for. Over 100 staffers turning a secure line into a therapy couch isn’t just embarrassing; it’s a red flag for deeper rot. She’s right to gut it—half-measures won’t cut it when the gig’s this critical. The speed’s impressive too; memo out, heads rolling, all in 72 hours. That’s leadership, not posturing.
Still, it nags at you. How does this even happen? The NSA’s a fortress—cameras, codes, paranoia baked in—yet nobody caught this for years? Either the watchdogs were asleep, or the rules got too cozy. Gabbard’s got the reins now; she’ll need more than firings to fix it. Oversight’s got to tighten, and the culture’s got to shift—fast. If she pulls it off, she’s golden. If not, this scandal’s just the opening act.
