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Contra Costa Times, Walnut Creek
12/23/03
Workings of department bureaucracy will
always be open to public scrutiny
By Thomas Peele
Few subjects cause state bureaucrats to dive under their desks
more quickly than questions about personnel and discipline.
Ask about a state employee. Ask for a disciplinary record.
Inquire why a department handled a disciplinary matter in a certain
way. Ask why the State Personnel Board voted the way it did on
a disciplinary appeal.
There is uniformity to the pause on the phone, the blank stare
from across the counter, the nervous fidgeting on the other side
of the conference table.
All you're asking is how well employees do their tax-paid
jobs. The typical response: It's none of your business.
But it is the public's business, says government watchdog
Terry Francke.
Because the public pays for it, employee performance "is
going to be open to general public scrutiny ... in a way that
it would not be in the private sector," said Francke, general
counsel of the California First Amendment Coalition.
Try telling that to the people who control the paperwork.
As part of a 21-month investigation of the state disciplinary
system, the Times filed written requests for State Personnel
Board records.
In response, personnel board lawyer Elizabeth Stein asked
in an e-mail if the intent of the petitions was to "harass
the board or its employees."
When the Times asked about the pension eligibility of a fired
government worker, a pension system spokeswoman said the newspaper
was "picking on" state employees.
Bureaucrats routinely use such answers to ward off scrutiny
and exposure, Francke said in an interview.
"The normal interaction is that someone either in the
press or otherwise asks for a record and is told, 'Oh, that's
confidential, it is personnel,'" he said. "The mantra
is 'personnel, personnel, personnel' and 'we can't give that
to you.' ... I mean 99.9 percent of the time, that is the end
of the story."
The officials legally can disclose many records. They just
don't want to.
State employee unions, Francke said, have created "an
environment (where bureaucrats) have a genuine anxiety that if
(they) just hand something out, that they will be sued on it,
and it will cause a very bitter situation with labor."
The government virtually demands a lawsuit to release public
records, he said. The thinking is that when a judge orders the
records released, government bosses can tell employees it wasn't
their doing.
PUBLIC RIGHT TO KNOW
On April 9, 2002, the Contra Costa Times reported that investigators
found thousands of pornographic photographs, including some of
children, stored in the work computer of a top California Department
of Health Services supervisor, Gilbert A. Martinez.
The same day, the newspaper filed a California Public Records
Act petition with the health department seeking five years of
disciplinary records of its employees.
Martinez, who ran the department's East Bay office of health
facilities inspections, already was under state investigation
for a conflict of interest that the Times first reported in June
2001. (The department fired him in September 2002.)
If Martinez could surf pornographic Web sites at work, then
the public had a legitimate right to know "what other bad
apples were in the ... barrel" in a department that serves
an important public function, the newspaper's lawyer, Karl Olson,
later wrote in legal papers.
Health department lawyers said they would release the records
but asked for several lengthy extensions, saying they needed
time to gather and review the documents. During the delays, the
department notified the affected employees, who promptly called
their unions.
In fall 2002, five unions asked a Sacramento judge to stop
the department from releasing the records. The California Association
of Professional Scientists, California State Employees Association,
Association of California State Supervisors, Professional Engineers
in California Government and the California Union of Safety Employees
all represented health department workers.
The Times joined the lawsuit on the side of the health department,
arguing that the records were public and had to be released.
The newspaper cited a 1978 appellate ruling that states when
disciplinary "charges are found true, or discipline is imposed
... a member of the public is entitled to the information about
the complaint, the discipline and information upon which it is
based."
The appellate court said its decision clarified a basic tenet
of the state public records law: "Access to information
concerning the conduct of the people's business is a fundamental
and necessary right of every person in this state."
That right clearly extends to information about the misconduct
of public employees and the discipline they face because of it,
Olson said.
Employee unions argued otherwise.
J.J. Jelincic, president of the California State Employees
Association, said in an interview he believes the intention of
discipline is to change behavior, not punish employees.
Releasing details of why discipline occurred embarrasses the
employee, he said.
In at least 10 cases, the health department had entered into
confidentiality agreements with employees as part of a disciplinary
settlement.
The department's chief lawyer, Barbara Yonemura, refused in
an interview to discuss the agreements or the decisions that
went into them, other than to say that the individual merits
of each case led to them.
The unions argued that the confidentiality agreements forbade
the department from making the disciplinary cases public.
Judge Talmadge R. Jones disagreed.
Privacy agreements with public employees cannot trump the
public's right to know about the inner workings of government,
Jones ruled.
"That was huge," said Olson, the Times' lawyer.
Without a clear decision on confidentiality agreements, they
likely would have become commonplace in disciplinary settlements,
he said.
In all, Jones ordered the release of records of more than
250 employees.
Thousands of pages of documents answered the "bad apple"
question that Olson had posed in legal papers.
The records showed that just months before the department
found the pornography on Martinez's computer, it had allegedly
uncovered two other employees who downloaded pornography at work.
The department fired Richard Cea and suspended David E. Loftis
for 15 days. It failed to take any broader action to block its
workers' Internet access.
The records also show people harassing each other, damaging
colleagues' property, occasionally throwing punches -- and, in
one case, a chair -- at their bosses.
Over the strong objections of the unions, Jones also ordered
the release of the information state investigators gather to
justify discipline. Those records track investigations from the
beginning, detailing accusations. They often include witness
statements, salary information of the employee and investigators'
notes.
Jelincic and Jim Hard, the state employee association's director
of civil service, said the information sometimes includes accusations
of wrongdoing for which the employee was not charged.
Jelincic said that the unions' primary goal in the lawsuit
was to make sure that any records released didn't include the
home address, Social Security numbers and medical information
of employees. Such data are routinely redacted from public records.
Olson said it was clear to him that the unions' legal thrust
was to block the release of supporting documentation. The judge
agreed. He ordered the unions to pay 85 percent of the newspaper's
legal bills and the state to pay to remainder.
'800-POUND GORILLA'
There was one issue on which the Times lost: The disciplinary
records of the health department's law enforcement officers remain
confidential, due primarily to a state law commonly known as
"the Peace Officers Bill of Rights." The law blocks
public access to the records of police, correctional officers
and other law enforcement personnel.
The law keeps secret the records of government employees about
whom people have an important interest in knowing more, Francke
said.
"We're talking about the only employees who have the
power of violence as part of their normal tool kit and the power
of arrest," Francke said. "The employees who, if they
go wrong ... are those whose potential danger to the public is
the most concealed."
Lance Corcoran, executive director of the California Correctional
Peace Officers Association, said his members and other officers
need the protections.
The files, he said, can contain trivial and unsubstantiated
complaints, and because of the nature of their work, officers
need greater protections for their personal safety.
Any reform would run into a solid blue wall, said Tom Newton,
general counsel to the California Newspaper Publishers Association.
The prison guards union is the "800-pound gorilla"
of state politics and quickly would render any reforms "dead
on arrival," Newton said at a First Amendment Coalition
meeting last month.
Paul Curry, a retired San Bernardino County deputy sheriff
who is now a Sacramento lobbyist, agreed.
He said restrictions sometimes can frustrate law enforcement
managers who would like to see the misconduct of officers made
public as a way of increasing credibility.
Once California gave officers the protections of the Peace
Officers Bill of Rights, "every cop in the country wanted
them," Curry said.
Prison unions across the country "wield a political clout
that no other union in the public sector wields," said Jonathan
Walters, who has written extensively about public employee discipline.
"They are tough, very tightly organized and politically
sophisticated."
Don Specter, director of the Prison Law Group in San Quentin,
which represents inmates, said the restrictions on access to
records make little sense for the public.
"They are public employees," he said. "What
they are doing, they are doing with our money, so I don't understand
why they are not more accountable for their actions. I don't
understand why it has to be ... such a secret."
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