In an administration increasingly defined by haste, error, and paranoia, the U.S. Department of Justice has made yet another blunder — this time, by misfiring a sensitive email demand to the wrong state official. The email, part of a wider campaign to enforce Donald Trump’s sweeping new executive order on voter fraud, was sent to Wisconsin Secretary of State Sarah Godlewski, a Democrat — despite the fact that Godlewski has no authority over elections in her state.

The July 10 email requested access to confidential election data, including voter registration records and potential cases of fraud. But in Wisconsin, elections are run by an independent commission — not the Secretary of State’s office. The mistake immediately drew sharp criticism from Godlewski’s team, which denounced the outreach as a “coordinated and cynical witch hunt about the 2020 election.”

“This is not a one-off error,” said Nate Schwantes, spokesperson for Godlewski, in a statement to Democracy Docket. “It’s part of a pattern — and one that is clearly aimed at intimidating Democratic state officials and undermining public trust in the electoral process.”

The demand for data, which also went out to Rhode Island Secretary of State Gregg Amore on the same day, is part of a broader effort by the DOJ’s criminal division to scour the country for voter fraud — despite overwhelming evidence from multiple audits and court rulings that the 2020 election was secure. Multiple Democratic secretaries of state have now confirmed receiving similar inquiries from DOJ officials.

But the way these demands are being carried out is raising alarm across the legal and civil rights communities.

“This is more than sloppiness,” said Justin Levitt, a constitutional law scholar and former DOJ official, who flagged the growing number of errors in recent DOJ correspondence on his Bluesky account. “This is a rash of typographical sloppiness complementing the legal sloppiness.”

According to Levitt, at least four recent DOJ letters to states have included typos or misdirected demands — a worrying trend when dealing with something as sensitive and foundational as voting rights.

The July 10 email to Godlewski was signed by Scott Laragy, principal deputy director for the Executive Office for U.S. Attorneys, and Paul Hayden, senior counsel in the DOJ’s criminal division. In it, they requested information “on, among other things, individuals who have registered to vote or have voted in your state despite being ineligible to vote… or who may otherwise have engaged in unlawful conduct relevant to the election process.”

Critics argue that the phrasing is overly broad — and dangerously vague.

“It reeks of a fishing expedition designed more for headlines than facts,” said one former DOJ voting rights attorney who requested anonymity. “The fact that they’re sending duplicate emails to the wrong people suggests this isn’t about careful legal work — it’s about intimidation and narrative-building.”

The error is not DOJ’s first run-in with Wisconsin over election matters. Earlier this year, the department reportedly threatened to withhold federal funding from the state for allegedly failing to comply with federal complaint procedures related to voting rights.

Election experts are warning that this pattern — sloppy legal work, vague requests, and political overreach — could have a chilling effect on election officials ahead of the 2026 midterms.

“DOJ is supposed to be a guardian of the law, not a weapon of the executive branch,” said Levitt. “What we’re seeing right now is closer to a partisan pressure campaign than a legitimate legal inquiry.”

As for Godlewski’s office, Schwantes declined to say whether they planned to respond to the errant request. But their public tone was clear: this is not a conversation they intend to entertain.

The mishap highlights a key tension in Trump’s post-2020 voter fraud campaign: the appearance of aggressive federal enforcement without the accompanying competence or credibility. For a president eager to rewrite the narrative of his electoral loss, the DOJ appears to be the latest instrument — clumsy, controversial, and now, publicly embarrassed.

In an era where every misstep is political ammunition, even a misaddressed email can become a symbol of something much larger: a government increasingly at war with its own institutions.