A Note from the Editor: Standing the Watch at Home
As we approach the end of the year, I wanted to step back from the spreadsheets and the policy analysis to speak to you directlyânot just as the person behind Wake Forest Matters, but as a veteran, a patriot, and a 12th-generation North Carolinian who calls this dirt home.
This will be my final post of 2025. It is a piece I originally shared on my personal Substack, but as I look at the state of our town today, I realized it belongs here, with you.
Lately, Iâve watched a troubling trend take root in our backyard. We are seeing a rise in âwhisper networks,â unverified rumors, and a brand of âmoral panicâ that feels less like civic engagement and more like the Salem witch trials. We see people bringing culture-war grievances into our public meetingsâdistractions that waste our Board’s time and taxpayers’ resources.
I grew up here. I remember the people I shared the sidewalk with at the Christmas parades, the families I saw in Sunday school, and the faces at Hot Hoops. In this town, weâve always had a âcodeââa way of treating one another with basic human decency, regardless of political friction. To those who have moved here recently: I donât care where youâre from, but if you want to be part of this village, then be a villager. That means choosing decency over discord.
The people duly elected our Town Commissioners. They are the stewards of our tax dollars and our legal process. When we allow rumors and intimidation to replace the rule of law, we risk breaking the very things that make Wake Forest worth living in.
Iâve seen what happens in parts of the world where the âSmart Processâ breaks down and the shield of the law is cracked. It isnât pretty. That is why I am standing watch for our institutions.
Thank you for reading this year. Letâs head into 2026 with a commitment to facts over fallacies.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Yâall.
There is a particular kind of silence that exists on a warship at sea or in the skies above a combat zoneâa silence born of discipline. That discipline has defined my life. I have served on the flight deck of the USS Nimitz, monitored near-peer enemies through airborne ISR, and stood on the ground in Iraq with Special Operations Task Forces. As a civilian contractor, I was embedded with Special Forces and SEAL teams in the deadliest mountainous eastern provinces of Afghanistan.
In every one of those environments, I lived and breathed by an oath to the Constitutionâan oath I swore several times, often in places where the alternative to the rule of law was not a theoretical debate, but a visible, violent, and absolute reality.
I am a 12th-generation North Carolinian. My ancestors, the Bakers, came to what is now Franklin and northern Wake County because of land grants from the Earl of Granville. We were here before Wake Forest was a town, before North Carolina was a state, and before the United States was a country. For over three centuries, my line has produced patriots, statesmen, and community builders. I am rooted in this soil, and I have fought for the principles that keep it free.
It is from this intersection of lineage and service that I write today. Our town is currently a microcosm of a dangerous national trend: a collision between institutional stability and a rising tide of anti-social, populist behavior. What we are witnessing regarding the current Board vacancy is the localized front of a national war.
The loudest populist demand this year has been to âjust appoint the third-place finisherâ to fill the current board vacancy, claiming it is the âmost democraticâ option. Mathematically and politically, this is a fallacy.
Wake Forest utilizes a âChoose Up to Twoâ plurality bloc voting system. This system identifies winners but provides zero data on voter preference order. We have no way of knowing who a Fatmi-only voter would have ranked second, or if a Shackleford voter found the third-place finisher acceptable.
In a true majority-mandate system like Ranked Choice Voting (RCV), a candidate who finishes third in a plurality count could very well be the last choice for the broader majority once transfers are tallied. Appointing based on a âthird-placeâ count is a statistical guess, not a mandate.
The âFatmi Maneuverââthe procedural motion introduced by Commissioner Haseeb Fatmiâis not a âbackroom dealâ. It is a strategic exercise of statutory authority and procedural due process.
Who: The Legal Custodians. Under N.C.G.S. § 160A-63, the authority to fill a vacancy resides solely with the members of the Board. They are the legally mandated agents responsible for the continuity of our local government.
What: A Codified Timeline. The motion established a rigid, public-facing timeline for applications (Dec. 19 â Jan. 14) and interviews (Jan. 20), replacing âwhisper networksâ with a transparent administrative record.
When: The Point of Vacancy. A vacancy is a specific legal event. It is not a âconsolation prizeâ for a previous election cycle.
Where: The Public Square. By mandating public interviews, the Board is adhering to the Open Meetings Law. Populism thrives in the dark; this process forces the selection into the âSunshineâ of the public square.
Why: Statutory Mandate. The Board is filling this seat because it has a legal duty to do so. The â3rd Place Fallacyâ has no basis in the North Carolina General Statutes.
The rhetoric used to attack our Board is the same brand of nonsense used by the rioters who attacked Congressâthe Peopleâs Houseâon January 6th. Just as those rioters attempted to usurp the Constitution, the peaceful transfer of power, and the will of the people through violence and conspiracy, local agitators are now attempting to do the same through intimidation and the delegitimization of legal process.
When you claim that following N.C.G.S. § 160A-63 is a âbackroom deal,â you are engaging in the same psychological warfare used to justify the storming of the Capitol. It is a refusal to accept any outcome that isnât pre-ordained by your own grievance.
This is the totalitarian drift that Hannah Arendt warned about: when ordinary people, convinced of their own righteousness, begin to surveil and dehumanize their neighbors. We have seen it here in the targeted harassment of candidates and the surveillance of families at Pride Fest.
Authoritarianism doesnât always arrive from above; it grows from below. In Wake Forest, we have seen this manifest in a culture of harassment and intimidation used as political discipline.
What was once disagreement has become discipline. Candidates and citizens are being punished, not for their ideas, but for refusing to conform to a rigid, populist orthodoxy. This brings to mind Ray Bradburyâs warning in Fahrenheit 451: the goal is not liberty, but sameness, safety through conformity.
We have seen this in the targeted harassment of individuals across the spectrumâIslamophobic attacks, anonymous social media accounts used for harassing our commissioners and neighbors, and biblical shaming used to punish independent thought. This is the early architecture of authoritarianism: a culture of compliance where deviation is dangerous, and a shrinking public square where participation feels costly rather than empowering.
The reason I think the way I do is because I have seen things most people will never have to understand.
When you have been to war, you learn that order is fragile. Institutions are the only thing standing between a functioning community and absolute chaos. When I advocate for âlegal precision,â I am not being an elitist; I am being a survivor. I have seen what happens when the âSmart Processâ breaks down. I defend our commissioners and this institution because I know that once the shield of the law is cracked, the wind that rushes in is cold and unforgiving.
I come from a line of community builders. My family stayed here for 12 generations because they believed in the civic health of this community. As a veteran and a patriot, I took my oath to the Constitution as a permanent commitment.
I am not trying to âotherâ anyone. I am calling attention to behaviors that are dangerous and antisocial. The âFatmi Maneuverâ is a victory for Procedural Due Process. It replaces the âspewed nonsenseâ of conspiracy with the precision of a legally defensible timeline.
Wake Forest is at a crossroads. We can choose to be a town governed by the precision of the law, or we can slide into the drift that replaces facts with fallacies. I choose the institution. I choose the oath. On January 20th, when the Board conducts its public interviews, it is holding the line for our civic health.
As a patriot, a veteran, and a son of this soil, I will stand with them.
To those currently engaging in this behavior: you know who you are.
You wrap yourselves in the language of âpatriotism,â but my ancestorsâwho settled this land via Granville Grants and fought to eject the Kingâs enforcersâwould recognize you for what you are: the Modern Tory. You are the ones siding with a doctrine of fear and fealty over the peace and sovereignty of your own community.
This will be my last post until the new year. Thank you for reading, and for those who choose decency over discord: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Yâall!
Tom Baker IV is the publisher of Wake Forest Matters, Wake Forest’s only independent local newsroom. A Wake Forest native, Navy veteran, and intelligence professional, Tom launched Wake Forest Matters to bring serious accountability journalism to his hometown. Tips and story ideas: publisher@wakeforestmatters.com