America’s First Whistleblowers
The United States’ first whistleblowers emerged not from a corporate office or intelligence agency, but from the deck of a warship in the midst of the American Revolution. In 1777, officers of the Continental Navy filed a formal complaint accusing their commander, Commodore Esek Hopkins, of abusing his authority and violating the ethical standards of wartime conduct. Their decision to speak out against the most senior naval officer in the service came at enormous personal risk, yet their actions prompted the Continental Congress to pass what many regard as the first whistleblower protection law in American history.
The Men and Their Commander
Two of the whistleblowers – Samuel Shaw and Richard Marven – were Rhode Islanders serving under Commodore Hopkins in the Continental Navy. Shaw was a midshipman in his early twenties, while Marven, a third lieutenant, was just a few years older. Hopkins was a politically connected naval officer whose brother, Stephen Hopkins, had been governor of Rhode Island, served as chief justice of the Rhode Island Supreme Court, was a delegate to the Continental Congress, and had signed the Declaration of Independence.
Origins and the Incident
In the winter of 1777, amid the Revolutionary War, officers aboard the warship USS Warren, which was part of the fledgling Continental naval force, secretly gathered to complain about the conduct of Commodore Esek Hopkins, the first Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Navy. A petition submitted by 10 Sailors and Marines asserted Hopkins had “treated prisoners in a very unbecoming, barbarous manner,” and described the commodore’s orders as “wild” and “unsteady.” Midshipman Samuel Shaw and Third Lieutenant Richard Marven were among these 10 servicemembers.
Shaw and Marven alleged torture of British prisoners of war aboard the Warren, violating the mandate of Congress that enemy prisoners be treated humanely. Because they reported misconduct by their superior officer, these men risked severe retaliation – especially considering they were reporting the highest-ranking naval officer during wartime. Indeed, Hopkins retaliated by initiating a criminal libel suit in Rhode Island – where his brother had great influence – against Shaw and Marven, leading to their arrest and incarceration while awaiting trial.
Congress Steps In
After the petition and arrests, Congress responded. On January 2, 1778, Hopkins was suspended from command. The case swiftly set the stage for Congress to consider protections for those who speak out against wrongdoing. On July 30, 1778, the Second Continental Congress unanimously passed a resolution stating:
“That it is the duty of all persons in the service of the United States, as well as all other inhabitants thereof, to give the earliest information to Congress or other proper authority of any misconduct...by any officers or persons in the service of these states.”
The resolution further provided that the United States would cover the “reasonable expenses of defending the said suit” instituted by Hopkins against Marven and Shaw and ordered that the petitioners receive attested copies of congressional records relating to Hopkins’s appointment and dismissal. Congress ultimately paid $1,418 to cover the legal defense of Shaw and Marven, which was a substantial amount for the time.
Significance and Legacy
The actions taken by Shaw and Marven, and by Congress in response, mark the earliest documented instance of whistleblowing in United States history and what many regard as the first U.S. law designed to protect those who expose misconduct. By formally declaring that individuals in service and citizens alike had a duty to report wrongdoing, Congress established a civic and legal precedent for accountability.
This episode illustrates several enduring themes: the personal risk faced by individuals who challenge power, the potential for institutional response when misconduct is exposed, and the foundational idea that speaking truth to power is a form of public service rather than betrayal. Shaw and Marven’s willingness to act, even when their own positions and liberty were at stake, underscores that the tradition of whistleblowing predates modern statutes by more than two centuries.
Challenges and Context
Although this resolution is often called a “whistleblower protection law,” it differed in scope and enforcement from later formal statutes. It applied in a very specific context (military service during wartime), lacked detailed procedural protections or rewards for disclosures, and did not extend broadly into civilian employment. The concept of “retaliation” in modern legal terms was not yet codified. Moreover, the resolution was reactive: it addressed the situation of Shaw and Marven rather than laying out systematic procedural protections for all future whistleblowers.
Nevertheless, the fact that a national governing body took this step demonstrates that oversight and accountability were valued nearly from the inception of the Republic. It is noteworthy that a group of junior officers reporting on a superior officer in wartime was supported by the Congress of the United States rather than suppressed outright.
Why It Matters Today
Whistleblowing is not solely a modern legal construct; it is embedded in American tradition. The personal courage of Shaw and Marven can be framed against the institutional response of Congress; this interplay between individual agency and systemic sanction is central to understanding whistleblower law’s evolution.
Furthermore, this case offers a lens for examining themes that recur across centuries: the risk of reprisals, the role of public institutions in safeguarding truth-tellers, and the importance of legal protections that balance power and accountability. In a time when debates over transparency, military authority, and state power remain salient, revisiting this 1777-78 episode helps ground contemporary discussion in historical precedent.
