It's Sunshine Week In Ohio
Vol. III, No. .290 - Ohio's Attorney General Releases 2026 Yellow Book
This week is Sunshine Week in Ohio. It exists for one reason: government doesn’t work if people can’t see what it’s doing. And this year, the message from Columbus is unusually direct — if you’re doing the public’s business in the dark, especially on your phone, you’re putting your career, your credibility, and your community’s trust at serious risk.
Earlier this week, Ohio Attorney General Dave Yost released the 2026 “Yellow Book” — the state’s annual guide to public records and open meetings laws. In his press release, the Attorney General highlighted a February decision from a Franklin County judge that permanently barred two members of the State Teachers Retirement System board from ever serving again after they secretly coordinated decisions on a $65 billion investment outside normal board processes. Together, they send a message every local official in Ohio should hear.
The Yellow Book’s New Warning
The Attorney General releases the Sunshine Laws Manual every year during Sunshine Week, which is anchored to the March 16 birthday of James Madison, one of the original champions of open government. The manual is a practical reference for what Ohio’s Public Records Act and Open Meetings Act actually require.
The 2026 edition adds a pointed new directive: “Avoid using platforms or applications that automatically delete records.” Signal, Snapchat, and auto-delete WhatsApp settings are named outright as tools that should not be used for public business.
Yost put it plainly: “Self-destructing messages are for movie characters, not public officials.” The legal point underneath that line is simple — Ohio law determines what’s a public record based on content, not the app you used to send it. If the message is about public business, it’s a public record. Choosing a platform that wipes the evidence doesn’t erase the obligation. It just looks like you were trying to.
The Steen Case: What Actually Happened
If the Yellow Book is the guidance, the STRS case is the warning label.
In State of Ohio v. Wade Steen, et al., the Attorney General sued two STRS board members over how they handled a proposed $65 billion investment. The core issue wasn’t whether the investment was a good idea. It was that key discussions and coordination happened outside the board’s formal, public processes. A Franklin County judge found they breached their fiduciary duties to Ohio’s teachers and retirees, and barred both from future board service.
The Attorney General said their conduct had “sown chaos and destroyed trust” and that the ruling should serve as a warning to “any public official tempted to go rogue.”
In the decision, the court treated secret coordination as part of the breach itself — not as a harmless pre-meeting chat. When you hold a public fiduciary role, how you deliberate is part of the duty. That includes whether the public body and the public actually get a chance to see what you’re doing before a decision is made.
That same logic applies when a city council pre-decides a zoning vote over text, or a school board works out a contentious contract by email and then walks it through a five-minute public meeting. The tools are different. The pattern is the same.
This Affects our Hometowns. Now.
The most consequential decisions in this region don’t happen in Columbus — they happen in council chambers, in township halls after work, and in school board meetings on quiet evenings. If you sit on the a governmental board, your day-to-day habits now sit closer to the legal line than they did ten years ago.
A persistent group text about an upcoming vote, a disappearing-message thread about a personnel issue, an email chain that works out a development deal before anyone sits down in public — these are no longer just bad optics. Courts and the Attorney General now recognize the pattern.
Fix Your Policies Before a Judge Does
Most local officials are trying to do the right thing under real pressure with thin staffing. This isn’t an argument that every misstep is a scandal. But Steen makes clear that good intentions aren’t a defense if you’ve abandoned open process in the name of speed or convenience.
Here’s what every board, council, and administration should do this month:
Write a digital communications policy. State plainly that texts, emails, and DMs about public business are public records — regardless of the device or account. Ban auto-delete apps for public business.
Move informal threads to official settings fast. If a text conversation drifts into deliberation, stop it and move it to a noticed meeting. Convenience is not a defense.
Update your records retention schedule. If your policy still reflects 1996 workflows, it doesn’t match how your office actually operates in 2026. Fix that now with your law director.
Take Sunshine training seriously. Ohio requires it once per term. That’s a floor, not a ceiling. Send your key staff too.
And for residents: when a major vote sails through in five minutes, ask when and how the groundwork was laid. When candidates come to your door, ask them how they handle public records. Some will roll their eyes. That tells you something.
Sunshine Week is a good time for every public body in Miami County to read the 2026 Yellow Book, study the Steen ruling, and clean up its own house. Transparency isn’t a legal nuisance to manage around. It’s the price of the public’s trust — and right now, that price is going up.
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