Nate Monroe
Florida Times-Union
October 27, 2022
Interim Jacksonville Sheriff Pat Ivey has made one thing clear during his short reign: Elections come and go, but JSO has its own line of succession.
T.K. Waters, a Republican, and Lakesha Burton, a Democrat, are both retired and respected veterans of JSO who are running to replace the appointed interim sheriff, yet only Waters — whom Ivey supports — is permitted to display JSO insignia and dispatch uniformed cops on his campaign’s behalf. This is due to a feudal and legally dubious tradition enshrined in the city’s ordinance code that, the sheriff contends, requires candidates to seek his permission before using such displays.
Although Burton claims Ivey’s predecessor, Mike Williams, granted her that permission, Ivey took a markedly different approach. “Should you continue with this conduct, the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office may explore its legal options,” Ivey wrote to Burton earlier this month, upon learning she had worn a police uniform in one of her campaign commercials.
“Please govern yourself accordingly.”
Ivey’s ruling has led to a stunning imbalance: While Burton has since eschewed the use of JSO insignia, Ivey has allowed Waters to wear his own former uniform and to flank himself with uniformed deputies during campaign events — providing Waters’ campaign the appearance of having the endorsement of JSO itself.
The interim sheriff’s willingness to put a thumb on the scale telegraphs a twisted view of JSO as something closer to a private security firm than a public agency, as if a board of directors has already selected its next CEO.
In Ivey’s conception, use of the agency’s insignia — symbols that are in fact owned by the public — require entering into what is essentially a licensing agreement with the current sheriff, who is free to revoke it any time and for any reason. In this view, JSO can throw its weight behind the sheriff’s preferred successor, backing that comes with the deployment of uniformed police. And outsiders who challenge the internal order or violate JSO’s copyright get legal threats.Ivey, Williams, Rutherford — making JSO private
Ivey inherited this private-sector mentality from his elected predecessor, Mike Williams, who himself inherited it from his predecessor, John Rutherford.
The most literal facet of this gradual transformation can be seen in the benefits JSO provides: Like a private company, JSO now only offers 401(k)-style retirement plans to new hires, making it one of the only police agencies in the United States without pensions — widely considered a vital tool for recruiting and retaining talented employees interested in public service
But over the past two decades, JSO has shut everyday residents out of its affairs in many respects, making it clear the agency’s leadership has little interest in public service.
Rutherford shut off scanners, once a valuable tool for the public and the media to monitor police communication about crime in the city’s neighborhoods. JSO’s self-reported alerts about crime are often incomplete, untimely and sometimes never happen at all — a problem that is particularly acute when police shoot citizens. Neighborhood activists, religious leaders and the media rarely get face time with the sheriff anymore. JSO frequently charges exorbitant fees for public records — reaching into tens of thousands of dollars. JSO’s budget, far north of $500 million and the city’s largest expense, is opaque, its finer points unknown to City Council members who must sign off on it.
This privatized vision of JSO, however, does not come with the oft-touted efficiency of corporate America: Despite an explosion in spending on police over the past eight years (the JSO budget was less than $400 million when Mayor Lenny Curry took office) violent crime, including homicides, is worse than it was in the preceding eight years.
Ivey, Williams, Rutherford — making JSO private
Ivey inherited this private-sector mentality from his elected predecessor, Mike Williams, who himself inherited it from his predecessor, John Rutherford.
The most literal facet of this gradual transformation can be seen in the benefits JSO provides: Like a private company, JSO now only offers 401(k)-style retirement plans to new hires, making it one of the only police agencies in the United States without pensions — widely considered a vital tool for recruiting and retaining talented employees interested in public service
But over the past two decades, JSO has shut everyday residents out of its affairs in many respects, making it clear the agency’s leadership has little interest in public service.
Rutherford shut off scanners, once a valuable tool for the public and the media to monitor police communication about crime in the city’s neighborhoods. JSO’s self-reported alerts about crime are often incomplete, untimely and sometimes never happen at all — a problem that is particularly acute when police shoot citizens. Neighborhood activists, religious leaders and the media rarely get face time with the sheriff anymore. JSO frequently charges exorbitant fees for public records — reaching into tens of thousands of dollars. JSO’s budget, far north of $500 million and the city’s largest expense, is opaque, its finer points unknown to City Council members who must sign off on it.
This privatized vision of JSO, however, does not come with the oft-touted efficiency of corporate America: Despite an explosion in spending on police over the past eight years (the JSO budget was less than $400 million when Mayor Lenny Curry took office) violent crime, including homicides, is worse than it was in the preceding eight years.
Ivey may protest (his office did not respond to a request for comment) that his decision is about ensuring no one impersonates a deputy — a true violation of the law. But Waters, a retired JSO employee, is still legally prevented from imitating an officer regardless of his apparent permission to dress like a cop in commercials; he can’t pull someone over any more than the million or so other civilians in Jacksonville. This has nothing to do with a legitimate concern about police impersonation.
What about a candidate who wishes to satirize JSO, perhaps having an actor dress up as a deputy — or Ivey himself — in the course of doing so? Or what if a candidate running on a JSO accountability platform uses some of JSO’s branding in campaign graphics? Does Ivey believe he can shut this political speech down too? After all, the ordinance’s prohibited conduct includes a “display or otherwise use” of the insignia.
There are, in fact, many JSO employees who enthusiastically support Waters and Burton, a fact that is difficult to discern given that only one candidate has flanked themselves with a posse of cops, as Waters did during a campaign event Monday. “S01 has given TK permission to use Officers in uniform for the campaign …,” a text message sent by a local Fraternal Order of Police representative to union members said, in an effort to gin up participation in Waters’ Monday event (“S01” is Ivey).
JSO did not respond to questions about the message.
Limiting JSO’s role in electoral politics
Those optics are damaging and dangerous, and it’s something the city’s own Ethics Commission sought to address a few years ago. Curry, the mayor, decided to use JSO deputies and equipment, including a police cruiser, in some of his re-election campaign material in 2019, clearly giving the impression JSO had endorsed his re-election.
“[U]sing city resources and uniformed city employees in campaign commercials erodes the public trust in government in Jacksonville,” then-Ethics Commission Chairman Joseph Rogan said in a letter to Williams. “… We all should encourage voting and civic involvement by all our citizens (including, of course, our law enforcement), but we should not permit the use of taxpayers’ property for political campaigning.”
City attorneys kneecapped the Ethics Commission before it made any proposals to address the issue, which then laid dormant until Ivey went after Burton earlier this month.
Notably, the city’s Office of General Counsel concluded back in 2019 the ordinance code “does not prohibit a police officer from wearing his or her uniform in a political advertisement,” according to a legal memo the office provided the Ethics Commission.
That conflicts with Ivey’s view of his own powers. “I am open to considering honoring former Sheriff Williams’ written authorization to use the insignia and uniform of JSO,” Ivey wrote to Burton after she had requested his permission to use the uniform. “Please provide a copy of the written authorization that you received from then Sheriff Williams.”
Unsaid is why Ivey couldn’t have simply provided her permission himself, as she had requested, instead of merely “considering honoring” permission that had been granted by his predecessor. What possible good-faith reason — what legitimate public policy — was served by granting one candidate permission and not the other?
This was quite a contrast to Ivey’s treatment of Waters on the same issue. “Thank you for following the municipal code in reference to this, and your commitment to continue serving the great city of Jacksonville and its residents,” Ivey wrote him in August.
This broadcasts a basic contempt for the law: In Ivey’s estimation, a black-and-white residency requirement whose violation led to the ouster of his friend and predecessor is “so obscure,” but an ordinance that helps a political ally is of vital importance to maintaining the integrity of JSO.
With his actions, Ivey has discredited the badge he’s purporting to protect.