Despite the doom and gloom from many, there’s a lot to celebrate. For many Maryland families, the immediate benefits are real. The White House, for example, projects that typical two-child family households will see $8,300 to $12,200 more in take-home pay over the next four years, while single earners stand to gain $4,700 to $8,400. These gains will come from making the 2017 tax cuts, made during Trump’s first term, permanent. It will eliminate federal taxes on tips and on overtime, which will affect 4% and another 21% of Marylanders, respectively, and it will remove taxes on Social Security income. That alone will assist roughly 1 million Maryland seniors.

Approximately 86,000 small businesses across Maryland (41% of the total) can now claim enhanced pass-through deductions, while farmers will have the ability to benefit from permanent 100% bonus depreciation on capital assets and other programs. It is estimated that agricultural producers will stand to spend nearly $66 billion on new investments over 10 years as a result.

However, all budgets need to be balanced, and the cost to many Marylanders may be extraordinary (particularly for the state’s most vulnerable residents). Current state projections now show 175,000 Marylanders will lose Medicaid coverage, with the state losing up to $2.7 billion annually in federal funding when fully implemented. The cuts are projected to disproportionately impact rural communities, children, seniors and disabled residents who depend on Medicaid.

Maryland’s rural hospitals may also face particular peril. Rural hospitals nationwide could lose 21 cents of every dollar in Medicaid funding. This, no doubt, threatens closures in communities already struggling with health care access. Gov. Wes Moore warned that rural hospitals could lose $250 million.

The bill allocates over $170 billion nationally for immigration enforcement, including $45 billion for detention facilities and massive Border Patrol expansion. Meanwhile, “sanctuary” jurisdictions in Maryland will face potential federal funding cuts for defying the federal government in its efforts to deport illegal aliens.

The One Big Beautiful Bill presents Maryland with a fundamental trade-off: immediate tax relief and increased wages for many families against potentially long-term damage to health care, education and social services. This “beautiful” bill delivers on many good things, but Maryland families will ultimately decide whether the price, paid by our most vulnerable residents, was worth it.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

Madigan, a former prosecutor and certified inspector general, has led the office since its inception in 2020. Her investigations have exposed waste, fraud and abuse at the highest levels of county government, including misconduct by politically connected figures. Her work earned the office full compliance recognition from the Association of Inspectors General (AIG) just last year. Yet Klausmeier declined to reappoint her, instead launching an “open search” and inviting Madigan to reapply — a move that was not only inappropriate and insulting to Madigan but also legally questionable.

The AIG, in a sharply worded letter this week, condemned the process as “irreparably damaged” and rife with conflicts of interest. The organization noted that Klausmeier conflated two distinct provisions of county law: one allowing for reappointment, and another requiring an open search only if the executive chooses not to reappoint. By asking Madigan to reapply while simultaneously initiating a search, Klausmeier muddied the legal waters and compromised the office’s independence.

Even more concerning is Klausmeier’s direct involvement in the final interviews, alongside Ethics Commission Chair Mandee Heinl and former EPA Inspector General Arthur Elkins, both of whom have ties to the executive’s administration. The AIG rightly pointed out that anyone subject to investigation by the IG should not be involved in selecting or reappointing that position. This is not just bad optics; it’s a fundamental breach of best practices for government accountability.

Klausmeier’s nominee, Khadija Walker, may have experience as a federal auditor, but she is not a certified inspector general and lacks the legal and investigative background that Madigan brings to the role. Walker’s career has focused on financial audits, not the kind of complex, politically sensitive investigations that define the IG’s mandate in Baltimore County. Make no mistake — Walker is surely a capable person, but she has unfortunately found herself thrown into a political nightmare.

For those who haven’t been paying attention, this is not the first time Baltimore County’s executive branch has attempted to weaken the IG’s office. Former Executive Johnny Olszewski tried to create an oversight board that would have had veto power over investigations, a move that was withdrawn only after public outcry and condemnation from the AIG. Klausmeier’s decision feels like a continuation of that effort dressed up as reform.

Fortunately, the County Council has the final say. Six of the seven members have already expressed support for Madigan. They must now act decisively to block Walker’s confirmation and restore public trust in the IG’s office. Councilman Izzy Patoka has introduced legislation to create an independent appointment board for future IG selections, a necessary step to prevent this kind of political interference from happening again.

Baltimore County residents deserve an inspector general who is fearless, independent and proven. Kelly Madigan has demonstrated all of these qualities. The council must reject Klausmeier’s nominee and reappoint Madigan without delay. Anything less would be a betrayal of the public’s right to honest, accountable government.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

This is not an isolated incident. The same HVAC failures were documented back in 2021, with expired test kits and suspended services acknowledged by the Baltimore City Health Department. Four years later, the building is still deteriorating and, by the city’s own admission, not up to code. All under the purview of Mayor Brandon Scott.

Mayor Scott has anchored his administration in the language of equity, which is admirable in many ways. But equity cannot live on policy papers alone. It must manifest in the conditions people face every day. And when clinics in underserved neighborhoods become heat traps, when staff are asked to endure temperatures above 85ºF to provide public health services, equity begins to ring hollow.

Baltimore has already paid the price for downplaying the danger of heat. Just last year, Department of Public Works employee Ronald Silver II died on the job while working in punishing heat without access to adequate cooling resources. His death wasn’t inevitable. It was a direct consequence of systemic neglect, and it should have spurred urgent reform.

Instead, the Druid Clinic remains too hot to serve its purpose, too dangerous for its staff and too unreliable for its patients, many of whom struggle to access alternate locations like the Eastern Clinic. As the inspector general’s report makes clear, staff have had to shut down operations when temperatures cross 84ºF, often during summer months. The city’s own heat alerts only underscore how routine these disruptions have become.

This is a failure not only of infrastructure but of moral imagination. What does it say about Baltimore’s priorities when the city cannot even guarantee temperature-regulated spaces for sexual health services in West Baltimore?

The solutions aren’t easy, but they’re not mysterious either. If the building can’t support window units or mobile air conditioners, then the city must explore alternate sites, rapid retrofits or even temporary clinics. The wiring issues that prevent staff from using basic cooling equipment are not nuisances, they’re liabilities. And they expose the city to both legal risk and further harm.

Mayor Scott does not shoulder blame for the entirety of Baltimore’s aging facilities backlog, but he does own the power to act. If equity is his guiding principle, then climate safety must be treated as foundational, not optional. That means developing a transparent remediation plan, allocating emergency funds and working with labor unions and public health leaders to ensure no worker or patient is left vulnerable in oppressive conditions.

It’s time for the city to stop treating temperature regulation as a technical problem and start recognizing it as a human one. Ronald Silver deserved better. The staff at the Druid Clinic deserve better. And Baltimore’s residents, especially those long underserved, deserve public spaces that are safe and healthy.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

President Donald Trump is furious. He has denounced the suggestion that he participated in Jeffrey Epstein’s depravity as a “hoax.” He has lashed out at his MAGA base clamoring for full disclosure by scorning them as “weak.” He has renounced their political support.

Hoping to quell the internal uprising, Trump tasked Attorney General Pam Bondi to seek the release of grand jury materials under Rule 6(e) of the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure. The rule endows a federal district judge with discretion to order disclosure of grand jury information connected with a “judicial proceeding.”

That gesture toward openness has not placated Trump’s implacable MAGA critics, including longtime ally Laura Loomer. Trump’s shock troops have turned to burning MAGA hats. Shades of “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” He has sued the Wall Street Journal, Rupert Murdoch and its reporters over a much-ballyhooed, unconfirmed allegation that he had contributed a drawing of a naked woman to Epstein’s 50th birthday album with the greeting, “Happy Birthday — and may every day be another wonderful secret.”

Questions persist. Trump, like all U.S. citizens, is innocent until proven guilty. However, why in his own defense is he not releasing the voluminous Epstein files beyond grand jury materials as is permitted under the Freedom of Information Act? Why is he refraining from appointing a special counsel to further investigate the Epstein affair? Why is he declining to ask Congress to enact a statute overriding Federal Criminal Rule 6(e) for Epstein materials? Why is he failing to urge Congress to establish an ad hoc committee like the Joint Congressional Committee on Covert Arms Sales to Iran to investigate the Epstein files with subpoena power?

History has confirmed that the cover-up typically proves more damaging than the alleged crime. President Richard Nixon’s cover-up of the Watergate burglary ultimately forced his resignation. President Ronald Reagan learned from that example in hiding nothing from the congressional investigation of the Iran-Contra debacle.

If Trump wishes the storm over the Epstein files 2.0 to blow over, he should take to heart the words of John Adams: “[The people] have a right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible, divine right to that most dreaded and envied kind of knowledge, I mean of the characters and conduct of their rulers.”

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

That speculation was soon confirmed as their reality and not long after, it was announced that Andy Byron, CEO of Cincinnati-based Astronomer, Inc., had resigned from his job which apparently didn’t include getting intimate at rock concerts with the company’s chief people officer.

This was pretty entertaining stuff and small wonder it was shared worldwide — until you start thinking of innocent spouses and children and family and how this will likely haunt them for the rest of their lives. This was not the first illicit couple spotted at a public venue and then embarrassed — although in earlier, non-digital times it would have been by a gossipy co-worker or mutual friend.

Yet it’s one thing for the neighbors to know, it’s another for tens of millions of people on YouTube, TikTok or similar platforms to watch this moment over and over again for their personal entertainment. How many of us have a tolerance for such humiliation? Hopefully, we never have to find out.

We can’t put the genie of viral video back in the bottle. Cellphone video cameras and easy access to the internet aren’t going away. Social media has given rise to the ability to publicly shame others at an international level. This culture of online humiliation has spread into the real world, where people have lost their jobs, careers and have even committed suicide as a result of the humiliation.

Think of the infamous 2023 case where a pregnant nurse was accused online of racism for attempting to take a public bike from a Black man, only for the world to find out weeks later that she had paid for the bike. Or even the Nicholas Sandmann case, where social media users and news outlets swiftly expressed outrage, accusing a young boy of mocking, blocking and staring down a Native American elder as he performed traditional chants. His reputation was destroyed immediately. However, subsequent investigations revealed a more complex picture: the Native American man had approached Sandmann, and prior to their confrontation, Sandmann and his group had been verbally accosted by another group.

It doesn’t take a Chris Martin to imagine a circumstance when kids could use awkward videos to bully a classmate, perhaps someone with special needs or from the LGBTQ+ community. And, again, all one might need to accomplish this would be a cellphone, some evil intent and maybe some co-conspirators. A tech company CEO can always lawyer up. An awkward 13-year-old who desperately wants peer approval? Not so easily protected.

This vulnerability is a big reason why a handful of Maryland public school systems have severely restricted cellphone use in schools. In Baltimore and Baltimore County, as well as Anne Arundel, Carroll and Howard counties, students must power down their cellphones and not use them during instructional times, often stowing them in pouches or perhaps their lockers. The primary reason for this was to deny students the distraction of phones, to improve focus and engagement. But it’s had the additional benefit of boosting student mental health and reducing the daily drama.

Anne Arundel County Public Schools Superintendent Mark Bedell was recently asked about his first three years leading that school system and specifically about the cellphone restrictions added just last year. Was he skeptical? Did he have second thoughts? Had the county gone too far? Nope. “If it was up to me, I would have done a total ban,” he told The Sun. Indeed, he promised that if he senses any sign of regression (excess social media use, perhaps), he wants to further tighten the rules. “I would not hesitate to recommend a total ban,” Bedell said.

It’s one thing to laugh at the foibles of a corporate CEO caught in a tender moment with someone other than his spouse. It’s quite another to risk the mental health of a teen, particularly given the rise in youth suicide across the United States, one of the leading causes of death in that age group. Why don’t all Maryland school systems restrict cellphones in this manner? It’s the policy recommended by the Maryland Department of Education. Perhaps it’s time that state lawmakers mandated it for all. The stakes are too high — and as demonstrated by the Coldplay couple — an unflattering video can happen when you least expect it.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

At the center of this debacle is Baltimore County Executive Kathy Klausmeier, whose administration’s mishandling threatens to sideline a proven watchdog, Inspector General Kelly Madigan. The process has become a textbook example of how political entanglements and procedural confusion can erode public trust.

The Association of Inspectors General (AIG) issued a scathing public letter this week laying out the facts of the situation. County law provides two distinct paths: either reappoint the incumbent inspector general and seek council confirmation or open the search to new candidates. Klausmeier’s administration has conflated these options, muddying the waters by conducting a search while simultaneously inviting Madigan to reapply.

This is not just a procedural misstep. It is a disservice to the public, and to Madigan herself, whose tenure has demonstrated what effective oversight looks like. Since taking office, Madigan has earned a reputation for independence, integrity and transparency. Reappointing her is not only consistent with county law, but it is the strongest affirmation the county can make in support of impartial government accountability.

Compounding the issue is Klausmeier’s direct involvement in the final interview panel. She participated alongside an ethics commission member she appointed. These are individuals subject to potential investigation by the very office they are helping to shape. That is a textbook conflict of interest. It undermines the essential firewall between oversight and executive power.

Baltimore City, by contrast, offers a working model of independence. Its inspector general operates with full autonomy and structural safeguards that prevent political interference. The result is a robust office empowered to follow the facts wherever they lead. It functions without fear or favor. Baltimore County must follow suit.

In the interim, residents deserve more than lip service to transparency. They deserve a system that resists manipulation, protects whistleblowers and ensures that oversight never bends to political convenience. Reappointing Kelly Madigan is a necessary step. It will restore public trust and prevent erosion of the very office that safeguards it.

Let’s be clear — this is not about personalities. It is about power, and the processes that guard it. If the county executive cannot distinguish her own interests from the structural independence required of the inspector general, then the council must step in and hold that line.

The path forward is simple and urgent. Reappoint Kelly Madigan. Follow the law. Restructure the selection process to ensure that future appointments are fully shielded from political influence.

The AIG has offered both critique and help. Accept it. Commit to building a system that strengthens, not sabotages, oversight. Kelly Madigan’s track record is not just sufficient. It is exemplary. She deserves reappointment, and the public deserves an inspector general who is chosen on merit, not maneuvering.

Accountability starts with who we trust to provide it. Baltimore County should waste no time in confirming the one person who has already proven she can.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

That seems like pretty standard practice in this day and age. Both the private and public sectors have offered voluntary buyouts since the 1980s. Such firms as IBM, Delta Airlines and Polaroid have used them successfully to help avert financial catastrophe. The first Voluntary Separation Incentive Payment (VSIP) was provided by the federal government under President Bill Clinton. Yet Gov. Moore’s offer has drawn surprising criticism, including from Senate Minority Leader Stephen S. Hershey Jr., who says the offer is too small to get meaningful participation and, even in a best-case scenario, only amounts to a short-term fix.

To that, we assume the governor must be thinking: Well, duh. Two things can be true at once. First, buyouts by themselves are no cure-all for fiscal woes at any level. The point here is to find opportunities where the interests of taxpayers and long-term state workers, including those who may have provided many years of well-regarded service, align. Yet if you can shrink the payroll humanely instead of through layoffs or firings, why wouldn’t you? Sometimes, employees are looking to change careers (or retire) and need some extra incentive to take the leap. And second, it absolutely is a relatively small amount. Larger incentives have been tried before. But the modest size is a product of these fiscally challenged times. The state needs the savings sooner rather than in future fiscal years.

And here’s perhaps the most important point of all: Moore has put further restrictions on this buyout. Not everyone is eligible. Indeed, some state agencies are excluded. And some applicants are likely to be turned down because their jobs are too vital to fall under the ax. And that’s fiscally responsible. Just look at the gyrations in Washington, D.C., with the continued downsizing of the federal workforce. One day, thousands may fall under the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) ax, the next, they may find themselves back on the job. This kind of backtracking is not only embarrassing, it’s costly. Last month’s cutbacks at the National Weather Service right before the beginning of hurricane season offer a case study in how not to downsize.

We’ll give Senator Hershey and his fellow Republicans in Annapolis this much credit: They’d be wise to monitor and see just how well this governor shrinks state government. It’s no easy task. And it’s fair to assume that buyouts are just one small tool in what is — or at least should be — a painstaking process of sorting through government programs that are absolutely essential and those that can be set aside or perhaps accomplished at far less cost. Hiring more teachers? That’s essential. Hiring more public relations professionals to tout the accomplishments of elected officials? Let’s just call that somewhat less essential.

It’s unfortunate that so many Americans see government at every level as a collective waste of money these days. Many don’t appreciate the important work that civil servants perform and perhaps even cheered on Elon Musk when he pledged to take a chainsaw to the federal workforce. But details matter. Buyouts are a surgeon’s scalpel that can retain the good and excise the less good.

Guess which approach leads to dangerous situations like a complete lack of lifeguards at Assateague Island National Seashore? You guessed it. That’s now become a problem at the federally managed park that saw 24 ocean rescues last year. Nearby Assateague State Park managed by the state of Maryland? The Beach Patrol is still standing watch over 2 million visitors a year. Sometimes, the smartest buyout is the one responsible managers don’t offer at all.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

The collective wisdom of the Baltimore Sun Editorial Board on this topic? Um, we have no clue. It’s tough enough to keep up with the Federal Reserve, the future of artificial intelligence and Vladimir Putin. But here’s what we do know: This is shaping up to be a season of discontent on the diamond and not just because of the Birds. Major League Baseball has bigger concerns: Specifically, there’s an enormous payroll disparity among franchises with escalating player salaries that could lead to a lockout by the end of 2026, not to mention a messy situation with TV contracts.

How messy? Very. At stake are not only national TV rights to baseball games but local TV deals that have long been an important source of revenue to ballclubs, big and not-so-big markets alike. Technology is changing, and regional cable networks have been losing ground to streaming services. That’s left a lot of uncertainty for clubs hoping to maximize revenue. And so the future may be in bundled packages and streaming rights through major players like ESPN, Apple TV and Netflix.

In other words, it may be that the days of catching the Orioles on the tube (or at least your cable bundle) for a relatively modest cost are coming to an end. And so here’s our concern: Forget rising ticket prices or expensive stadium concessions — they are practically a given — fans may soon have to pay a lot more simply to be able to watch the local team on television (or on a phone or computer monitor) every once in a while.

In this increasingly splintered world where cities aren’t necessarily tied together by employment or schooling or even community amenities, local sports franchises have been the one constant. Baltimore isn’t just defined by its geography, its weather or its history, but by the presence of the Orioles and Ravens. It’s a big reason why subsidizing the team stadiums with state-backed bonds seemed like a good deal — having two major pro sports franchises brings a certain excitement and identity to Charm City. It’s not only helped stimulate economic growth in the surrounding neighborhood, but Camden Yards and M&T Bank Stadium have generated enormous community pride.

And so we would just urge MLB owners to think about that investment and how milking media rights to finance a big chunk of too-costly player salaries is ultimately a losing strategy if it greatly limits fan access to games, whether they are broadcast or live-streamed. Out of sight, out of mind, that’s the danger. And while the affluent will still be able to afford to show up at ballparks — or pay whatever it takes to watch the O’s on their preferred electronic device — what happens to the rest of us? It’s likely many will slowly lose interest.

Players need to understand this, too. A cap on player salaries might be the best fix available. The New York Mets might be able to afford to pay Juan Soto $765 million (including a $75 million signing bonus) but not the Orioles. That’s simply too much money for a right-fielder who, as of the All-Star break, is hitting .262 with 23 home runs. Some restraint is needed — or else only teams from Los Angeles, New York, Boston, Chicago, San Francisco and Atlanta will find themselves in the World Series in the years ahead.

Baltimore has done a lot to help the Orioles flourish. Now, it’s up to Major League Baseball to look out for the team’s fans (and their sport’s future).

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

It was an eye-opener not because drugs like fentanyl, with or without blending agents, are somehow new to Baltimore’s streets. Fentanyl became available as a standalone drug in the 1970s and illicitly manufactured versions arrived in the 1990s. If anything, this was a wakeup call because this city, this state and this country have been fighting back against opioids — and with some success. Overdose deaths are down substantially. Baltimore alone has seen fatal overdoses decline 25% last year alone. After peaking at 1,079 in 2021, they fell to 777 at the end of 2024. The statewide success is even more pronounced: From 2,800 fatal overdoses in 2021 to 1,768, a 37% drop.

All of which suggests that while the infrastructure now in place to battle opioid addiction, from greater availability of treatment facilities to the presence of naloxone or “Narcan,” the nasal spray used to reverse the effects of fentanyl, heroin and other narcotics, has been helpful, this is a “drug war” that is far from won — if “winning” is even possible. Fighting opioids is more akin to battling other perennial public health dangers from cancer to diabetes and infectious disease: You can make progress. You can even rescue victims. But in this conflict, you may never be able to lay down your arms (or equivalent countermeasures).

Every weapon available in the drug war arsenal deserves to be put in action. Might tougher border policies disrupt the flow of fentanyl? It can help, but history suggests it’s far from a cure — smuggling is too often accomplished by those who are legally able to cross borders. Targeting drug traffickers for arrest and prosecution? Absolutely. But community engagement and building trust between law enforcement and local residents can prove just as critical. How? It can help address the root causes of addiction, including psychosocial factors such as childhood trauma and post-traumatic stress disorder as well as social isolation, poverty and unemployment.

Last year, Mayor Brandon Scott outlined his plans to use $402.5 million set aside for opioid restitution, money provided through legal settlements with major pharmaceutical manufacturers and distributors. He has so far taken a broad approach, not only funding city health department programs and health care providers but supporting community-based programs like Marian House (which provides safe and sober housing) and the Helping Up Mission (which supports men and women facing homelessness and mental illness as well as addiction). This is the comprehensive strategy recommended by leading public health experts, including those at Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health.

Not every approach is of equal value, of course, and we assume there will be fine-tuning in the years ahead. And it’s safe to assume that restitution funds alone won’t be enough. That’s just the nature of the beast. The good news is that neither Baltimore nor Maryland faces this challenge alone. Indeed, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reports that the highest overdose death rates on the state level are in West Virginia, Tennessee and Louisiana. That Baltimore has recorded some of the highest rates of overdose fatalities of any large U.S. city is undeniable; that it’s capable of lowering that rate (and keeping it down) is just as possible — if a more aggressive overdose prevention effort can be sustained.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.

Maxwell, serving a 20-year federal sentence for her role in Epstein’s sex trafficking operation, remains one of the few living individuals with direct knowledge of how Epstein’s network operated. Her testimony could illuminate the mechanisms of abuse, the enablers and potentially the identities of powerful figures who may have escaped accountability. Burchett’s letter to Comer urges not only an invitation but a subpoena if Maxwell refuses to appear voluntarily. This is not political theater, as so many congressional inquiries are. It’s a welcome demand for justice.

The timing of Burchett’s request is critical. A recent memo from the Department of Justice and FBI concluded that Epstein died by suicide and that no incriminating client list exists. Yet this conclusion has done little to quell public skepticism. The memo’s release, coupled with Attorney General Pam Bondi’s conflicting statements about the existence of Epstein-related documents, has only deepened mistrust. Bondi once claimed the files were “sitting on my desk,” only to later walk back that assertion. Such inconsistencies fuel speculation and erode confidence in our institutions.

Chairman Comer now faces a pivotal decision. Will he honor Burchett’s request and demonstrate that the Oversight Committee is committed to truth and accountability? Or will he allow political pressure and institutional inertia to bury one of the most disturbing scandals of our time?

The public’s appetite for transparency is not partisan. Americans across the political spectrum want answers. They want to know who enabled Epstein, who benefited from his crimes and why justice has been so elusive. Maxwell’s testimony could provide those answers. It could also help victims find closure and ensure that such a network can never operate again.

Comer has the authority to act. If he chooses to ignore Burchett’s request, he risks signaling that Congress is unwilling to confront uncomfortable truths. Worse, he risks perpetuating the perception that powerful individuals are above the law.

Some may argue that inviting Maxwell to testify is a distraction or a political stunt. But that argument fails to recognize the gravity of the crimes involved. Epstein’s abuse spanned decades and implicated elite institutions. Maxwell was not a peripheral figure. She was central to the operation. Her voice, under oath, could clarify what the DOJ memo obscured and what the public still suspects.

Burchett’s courage should not be met with silence. Comer must respond, not with platitudes, but with action. A public hearing featuring Maxwell would demonstrate that Congress is serious about oversight, serious about justice and serious about restoring public trust.

If Maxwell refuses to testify, a subpoena must follow. If the DOJ resists, Congress must assert its constitutional authority. The stakes are too high for half measures. The victims deserve answers. The public deserves transparency. And the truth, however uncomfortable, must come to light.

Chairman Comer, the choice is yours. History will remember whether you stood for accountability or stood in its way.

Baltimore Sun editorial writers offer opinions and analysis on news and issues relevant to readers. They operate separately from the newsroom.