Fraud, political influence and ignored warnings

AB 2624 was introduced by Democratic Assemblymember Mia Bonta, who is married to California Attorney General Rob Bonta. It has been named the “Stop Nick Shirley Act” by opponents.

The Bontas’ relationship does not prove misconduct. But it is relevant to the public debate surrounding a law that could discourage independent investigations of organizations receiving government money.

The attorney general is California’s chief law-enforcement officer. His Department of Justice includes a Division of Medi-Cal Fraud and Elder Abuse whose stated mission is to investigate and prosecute those who defraud taxpayers and divert scarce health care resources. The division says it pursues hundreds of entities annually for suspected violations of the California False Claims Act and other laws.

In April, Attorney General Bonta announced that his office had dismantled a Los Angeles hospice fraud operation allegedly responsible for stealing $267 million. Twenty-one suspects were charged, five people were arrested, 10 locations were searched and more than $757,000 in cash was seized. California Department of Justice

That prosecution confirms two things: California’s health care fraud problem is real, and the attorney general has both the authority and responsibility to investigate it.

It consequently creates a troubling appearance when the attorney general’s wife authors legislation broad enough to expose outside journalists and investigators to litigation for publishing names, images, employment information and other details about selected service providers.

There is no evidence that Attorney General Bonta directed his wife to introduce AB 2624 or that either Bonta personally benefited from it. Nevertheless, lawmakers should recognize the conflict-of-interest concerns created when the family of the state’s top law-enforcement official advances legislation that could make independent examination of publicly funded organizations more difficult.

The question is not whether Attorney General Bonta has brought fraud cases. He plainly has. The question is why California would want to discourage the journalists and whistleblowers who may uncover the next one.

Government investigators cannot be the public’s only line of defense. Agencies sometimes miss fraud, disregard warning signs or become too politically invested in defending programs they administer. Independent reporters and whistleblowers exist precisely because government cannot always be trusted to investigate itself.

The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services said in May that it had suspended payments to approximately 800 hospices and home health agencies suspected of fraud in Los Angeles alone. Those providers accounted for approximately $1.4 billion in Medicare spending during the preceding year. CMS had suspended $70 million in payments by the time of its announcement and said it had revoked or deactivated hundreds of providers for improper or fraudulent activity. CMS announcement

CMS Administrator Dr. Mehmet Oz reportedly said the agency did not receive complaints after cutting payments to hundreds of questionable California hospices. There was reportedly not so much as a telephone call from an owner demanding that the payments be restored.

Silence is not legal proof that every suspended provider committed fraud. Suspicion is not a conviction, and every accused party is entitled to due process. But when hundreds of businesses receiving public money can lose their payments or disappear without operators demanding continued funding, taxpayers have every right to question whether those businesses were providing genuine services.

Those are exactly the questions journalists should be free to ask.

Minnesota offers an even more disturbing warning about what can happen when political considerations and fear of controversy interfere with oversight.

The Feeding Our Future organization and its network falsely claimed to provide millions of meals to children during the COVID-19 pandemic. Federal prosecutors established that conspirators instead diverted approximately $250 million to themselves. They purchased luxury vehicles, jewelry, real estate and other personal items while children and taxpayers were exploited. The organization’s founder, Aimee Bock, was convicted and sentenced in May to more than 41 years in federal prison. U.S. Department of Justice

The fraud did not persist because warning signs were absent. Government employees and investigators had raised concerns. A Minnesota legislative audit concluded that inadequate state oversight created opportunities for the fraud and that the organization’s lawsuit and threats of negative publicity had a chilling effect on regulators.

Political money added another disturbing dimension. Campaign-finance records showed that people later charged in the Feeding Our Future case had contributed to several Minnesota political figures. Recipients reportedly included U.S. Rep. Ilhan Omar, Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison, state Sen. Omar Fateh and Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey. Some campaigns returned or donated the contributions after the federal investigation became public.

Receiving a lawful campaign contribution does not prove that an officeholder knew about or participated in a donor’s crimes. But such contributions demonstrate why transparency is indispensable. The public is entitled to examine whether money, political relationships or fear of accusations influenced government oversight.

Whistleblowers have also alleged that warnings about Minnesota’s growing fraud problem were ignored. A group representing hundreds of Minnesota Department of Human Services employees accused state leaders of retaliating against workers who reported suspected fraud through monitoring, threats, discipline and efforts to discredit their reports.

In March, longtime department employee Faye Bernstein testified before a Minnesota legislative fraud committee that she had suffered retaliation after raising concerns. State lawmakers reported hearing from other employees who said they had been disciplined or fired for exposing suspected wrongdoing.

Those remain allegations and should be identified as such unless established through a court or independent investigation. But they underscore the danger of allowing government to decide which investigators are legitimate and which disclosures are too disruptive.

Fraud flourishes when insiders are afraid to speak, regulators fear political consequences and reporters face legal retaliation for asking questions.

Against that history, AB 2624 is not merely another privacy measure. It establishes a mechanism that could be invoked against people documenting publicly funded operations and identifying those responsible for them.

California should protect people from actual violence and true threats. It should not construct legal barriers around politically favored organizations, particularly while federal and state investigations continue to reveal extensive fraud involving health care, hospice care, childcare and social-service programs.

Mia Bonta’s marriage to the attorney general does not establish an improper purpose. But it heightens the Legislature’s obligation to avoid even the appearance that California is insulating selected organizations from scrutiny while the attorney general’s own office is charged with finding and prosecuting fraud.

The proper response to investigative reporting is more transparency, prompt audits and equal enforcement of the law—not legislation that gives the subjects of investigations new tools to intimidate those holding the cameras.

Julie Reeder
Julie Reeder