Reflections on Service, Leadership, and a Sacred Oath

John T. Shartle served the U.S. Department of Justice, Federal Bureau of Prisons for 30 years, retiring with distinction as a member of the Senior Executive Service (SES) in 2018.   John began his career at the Federal Bureau of Prisons headquarters in Washington DC as a Correctional Programs Specialist.  He served the agency in positions of progressive responsibility at eight locations across the country, including Washington DC (twice),: Texarkana, TX;  Allenwood, PA;  Tucson Arizona (twice);  Beckley WV; Florence, CO; Elkton, OH; and Fairton, NJ.   John is a proud graduate of Mount Saint Mary’s University, Emmitsburg, Maryland.  He lives with his wife Cheryl in Canfield OH.

Here is his story:

I served for 30 years in the United States Department of Justice, as part of the Federal Bureau of Prisons. 

For the final 12 of those years, I was a Warden. And for the last 8 years, I held the rank of Senior Executive Service, entrusted with some of the most difficult assignments in the federal government, including general oversight of a federal prison complex, with high, medium, and minimum-security components. 

I served under presidents I admired, and under those I did not. But the thread that never frayed was my allegiance to something higher than politics: to the Constitution of the United States, and the oath I took to protect and defend that sacred document. 

That oath wasn’t just a formality. It was a vow to uphold a fragile but luminous ideal, born of revolution, reason, and the radical belief that power should serve the people, not rule them. 

In every facility I led (some housing nearly 3,000 inmates and employing 600 staff), I carried that vow like a torch. Not because anyone would’ve known if I cut corners - in most cases, no one would have had any idea. But because integrity doesn’t depend on surveillance. It depends on conscience. 

Honor, for me, meant doing the hard thing when the easy thing whispered for my attention. 

I wasn’t a perfect leader. No one is. I made mistakes every single day. But I walked through those prison gates each morning with one question in my gut: What does “right” look like today, for my staff, for the inmates in my charge, and for a nation that expects me to uphold its values, even if it never sees how I do it? 

I tried to answer that question with every decision I made. 

Now, I watch as public officials, elected and appointed (including the President!), sneer at the very ideals they swore to defend. I see grift where there should be sacrifice. Cowardice where there should be courage. I see brutality masquerading as strength. 

The bar has been lowered so far that decency feels quaint. But it’s not quaint. It’s essential. 

Despite what the current administration seems to believe, this nation cannot be governed by ego, vengeance, and division. This Republic cannot be fueled by cruelty and lies. Not for long, anyway. 

Real leadership is about service, not dominance. It’s about protecting the vulnerable, not exploiting them. It’s about holding the line when the winds shift and the cost gets high. 

The American people deserve leaders who understand the weight of that responsibility. Leaders who know that the Constitution isn’t just a set of rules, or, as some would suggest, an “inconvenience”. It is a covenant. And breaking that covenant doesn’t just erode trust. It unravels the whole beautiful American experiment.

Character. Integrity. Courage. Service. These are not optional traits for our leaders. They are the bedrock. 

And if we abandon them, we will lose the Republic.