We recently opined about a string of ethical mishaps amongst O.C.’s political elite, and word has filtered back to us that the Orange County District Attorney was none too happy with our analysis.
Here’s the beef, as we understand it: Three of our four examples involved serious criminal charges (the second-degree murder conviction of Judge Jeffrey Ferguson for shooting and killing his wife; former Anaheim Mayor Harry Sidhu’s prison sentence for destroying evidence and making false statements to the FBI in a years-long corruption probe; and former Orange County Supervisor Andrew Do’s sentencing for corruption and abusing the public trust).
Our fourth example was the $3 million civil verdict against District Attorney Todd Spitzer and his former chief-of-staff (now Superior Court Judge) Shawn Nelson, for harassment of a veteran female prosecutor.
We pointed out that Spitzer’s was a civil matter, not a criminal one like the others, and didn’t say more about it. But it reportedly stung the D.A. to be lumped in with those criminal cases. He wasn’t eager to chat for this story, but he did send us a statement, excerpts of which you’ll find below. While we stand by our decision to include the Spitzer/Nelson case as an example of recent ethical no-nos, we understand the feeling that it wasn’t fair and will ruminate a bit more on the nuances here.
We repeat: The D.A. and judge are not accused of engaging in criminal activity. And yes, the D.A.’s office is actually prosecuting two of the cases/examples we used — Judge Ferguson for killing his wife, and former Supervisor Do for accepting bribes and funneling millions of public dollars to a nonprofit that failed to feed seniors during the pandemic. (Sidhu, meantime, was prosecuted by the feds.)
Spitzer’s defenders argued that he inherited a District Attorney’s office in disarray from Tony Rackauckas, which was racked by the infamous “Snitch Scandal” — where the D.A. and Sheriff’s Department routinely placed informants near high-profile jail inmates and tasked them with digging up dirt that could help prosecutors’ cases. Problem was, those high-profile inmates already had attorneys, and thus extraneous info-fishing was illegal.
Spitzer and Rackauckas were bitter enemies, so one might expect a certain amount of skepticism from the new D.A. about the high-level staff left behind by the old D.A. Spitzer likened the transition to “going into battle in the lion’s den,” trying to correct the sins of the prior administration after Rackauckas cheated to get convictions.
Supervisor Tracy Miller was the highest-ranking woman in the D.A.’s office at transition time. It did not go smoothly.
In her lawsuit, Miller charged that several women in the office had been sexually harassed by a D.A. supervisor who was once Spitzer’s friend. Miller sought to shield these women, her suit said, and as a result she was humiliated, harassed and ultimately forced out of her job by Spitzer and Nelson.
The county’s attorneys argued that Miller’s issues at work sprang from the higher expectations that Spitzer and Nelson brought to the office. Spitzer said he had tasked Miller with overseeing extremely important assignments including opioid litigation, the Huntington Beach oil spill, real estate fraud lawsuits and a gang reduction program facing serious financial issues. He also said he made no secret of his frustration “with her lack of performance in handling these very serious matters.”
A San Diego jury sided with Miller, though, awarding her more than $3 million earlier this month.
We shan’t re-litigate the case here, but suffice to say that many an attorney believes they’re right even when a jury concludes otherwise.
“As prosecutors, we see juries return verdicts every day which we disagree with, but that is the system in which we must pursue justice,” Spitzer said in that emailed statement. “Even when we know we have the facts on our side to prove a case beyond a reasonable doubt, sometimes the jury doesn’t see it that way, and we must accept their decision…. while I respectfully disagree with the verdict return in this civil lawsuit, I respect it as I respect the rule of law….”
Spitzer said he’s proud that the D.A.’s office now employs more female than male prosecutors, and that he has continued to promote women to high-ranking management positions “based on their incredible skills and talent, not their gender.” He also said he “viciously” safeguards taxpayer dollars as well as victims’ rights, and “the minute I was informed of any allegation of harassment by one of my employees I took immediate steps to remove that individual from the office and launched a comprehensive investigation in conjunction with the County of Orange.”
Spitzer’s defenders point out that the verdicts weren’t unanimous (they don’t have to be in civil trials), and also suggested that $3 million isn’t much as these employment cases go. Perhaps they’re right. How much did former D.A. Mike Capizzi spend on failed political prosecutions of county supervisors for “willful misconduct” during the bankruptcy? Estimates at the time said at least $2.5 million. The price tag for Rackauckas’ Snitch Scandal may be incalculable, but we know that one mass murder case stretched for six years and cost $2.5 million all by itself, and that the scandal unraveled 57 others where convictions were overturned, charges were dropped and sentences were dramatically reduced.
You might say that these all cost roughly $1 per county resident. We’re not sure how much better that makes us feel, though. Proceed with greater care, officials, and perhaps We the People will foot smaller bills?
Spitzer made his electoral leap from prosecutor to the Orange County Board of Supervisors shortly after the county’s historic bankruptcy. We have covered him since those very early days — gulp — nearly 30 years ago. He has always had a bit of “The Greatest Showman” in him (consider his billboard blitz waring ne’er-do-wells in Los Angeles County that “Crime doesn’t pay in Orange County. If you steal, we prosecute.” as Exhibit No.1) and has survived many a controversy over the years.
We trust that he’ll survive our observation as well — and will, someday, perhaps, speak to us again.