It would be unfair to say San Francisco’s Ethics Commission moves very, very slowly. In order to do that, they’d have to go a lot, lot faster.
As it is, the Ethics Commission operates at a glacial pace (a metaphor nobody will understand in a generation). To wit: Ethics has, to date, completed only three of the mandatory audits of the 16 candidates who received public funds for the 2020 election cycle — among other things, ensuring the people’s money was spent on what candidates said it was spent on, and that campaigns were conducted in a legal, proper manner.
This is deeply problematic, and not just because, you know, it’s already 2024.
More troublesome still is that a number of these 2020 candidates will be running again this year — and seeking public money again — and voters have no idea how honestly or competently they handled it last time. Some of those 2020 candidates told us that Ethics requested and received their receipts years ago, and they’ve heard nary a peep since. Others tell us they have not yet had any receipts requested. It is, again, 20-effin’-24.
Many years ago, a number of the writer-performers who’d go on to form Monty Python created a TV program called “At Last, the 1948 Show.” The gag was that it was 1967. As a comedy bit, this is funny. As a true-to-life means of combating reckless or unethical political behavior and stamping out municipal corruption — well, I’m afraid the joke’s on us.
Again, this is unfortunate. We’re flying blind into the maelstrom of 2024 — and the ineffectiveness of our Ethics Commission is indicative of how a city that needs so much more ethical oversight than the occasional FBI raid is simply not getting it. Campaign audits and ethics watchdogging have a shelf life: You’re not going to believe this, but reckless or malign politicians and/or dark money political committees are not intimidated by (potentially) being caught and fined two or more election cycles down the road. By then the result of the election, or even several elections, are in the books.
As such, spectacularly belated Ethics Commission fines are less a deterrent than a mere cost of doing business.
So that’s all bad. But when you add it all up — as, say, an auditor might — it gets worse.
Aspirational District 3 supervisor Danny Sauter, who ran and lost to Board President Aaron Peskin in 2020, tells us it was not until Sept. 29 of last year that the Ethics Commission requested his 2020 documentation. He says he returned the material by Oct. 31 — and that’s it.
Aspirational District 1 supervisor Marjan Philhour, who ran and lost to Supervisor Connie Chan in 2020, says Ethics requested her receipts all the way back in May 2022. She turned them in — and that’s it.
Chan, meanwhile, says she has not yet heard from Ethics to turn in her 2020 materials at all — and it is, again, 20-effin’-24. She says she’s sitting on some $4,000 from 2020 she’d like to return to the city, but cannot until Ethics runs its audit and closes the books.
Peskin, meanwhile, says he, too, has not yet been asked to turn in his receipts. And he’s sitting on around $35,000 in 2020 public financing. But here’s the thing: He concluded his campaign with just shy of $46,000 of public money left — and he’s had to spend some $10,000 of the people’s dough paying compliance personnel while waiting for Ethics to even start.
A glacier sneaks up on no one, and the Ethics Commission’s failure to handle its mandatory audits in a timely fashion didn’t either. In November 2022, the commission’s then-director LeAnn Pelham was called before the Board of Supervisors Government Audit & Oversight Committee to discuss what was then already being described as an audit backlog.
Regarding timely completion of audits, Pelham told the supes that “I commit to you that remains a serious priority for our commission.” Getting these audits done was necessary to retain the “confidence and trust of the public.”
Well, okay then.
In January 2023, Pelham stepped down from her post. Her permanent replacement has not yet been hired; as Pelham herself said in that November 2022 hearing, “The city’s hiring process can be quite lengthy.” And, of course, the Ethics Commission moves at its own distinctive pace.
In all things – even in seeking help.
Lifeline from the Controller is blown off
In November 2022, the supes asked why the Ethics Commission hadn’t yet taken up multiple offers from the controller’s office to help expedite clearing up that audit backlog.
The controller bailing out Ethics is not a new phenomenon. In 2015 the controller completed 13 candidate audits and in 2017 the controller’s contractors did 12 more. At this point, you may be wondering how long it should take to do an audit. Per the controller, they require about 150 hours apiece. That’s a lot — but it’s less than a month’s time once an auditor actually gets started. That there is the operative phrase.
Public email records show that all the way back in late 2022 — around the time the supes were asking about audits piling up — the controller once more reminded Ethics that it had access to the controller’s contractor pool. This is a list of pre-qualified outside agencies who can do this auditing work. In a city where contractors must answer a litany of arcane questions vis-a-vis their doings in Northern Ireland, being gifted a list of pre-qualified entities is no small deal. It can shave months off the contracting process.
Ethics, however, did not take up the controller’s offer. Rather, one full year after the November 2022 hearing — during which elected officials questioned Ethics’ already sclerotic pace and lack of a clear plan moving forward — it entered into a contract with an outside auditing firm.
In other words: At last the 1948 show.
In 2019, Quentin Kopp quit the Ethics Commission, complaining that its investigations were inadequate, its follow-through wanting and its turnaround times lackadaisical. “It’s no good and it’s a waste of taxpayer money,” he says.
Nobody would doubt the value of what the Ethics Commission does — but, in the end, are they the ones who need to do it? Especially if, you know, they’re not doing it? The District Attorney and City Attorney can both do investigations. The controller can do audits — and has often already been forced to step in and pick up the Ethics Commission’s delinquent audits.
An Ethics Commission could still oversee the work of others — and perhaps oversee it in a more timely fashion. A tsunami of dark money is looming to crash over San Francisco in 2024, and, right now, the best we can hope for is some errand boy sent by grocery clerks to get popped in 2027 or thereabouts. And, of course, by that point the election results will be ancient history.
It would be great if this weren’t the standard operating procedure. Maybe someday it won’t be. But, in this city, things move very, very slowly.
