CPS and their Lazy Employees Closed for 3 Days: Teaching kids to be wimps and to hide everything behind “safety”

The recent winter storm that struck the Greater Cincinnati region in late January 2026—often dubbed “Snowmageddon” or the “snow apocalypse” by locals and media alike—delivered a significant punch, blanketing the area with record-breaking snowfall. On January 25, 2026, Cincinnati logged 9.2 inches at Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport, shattering the previous single-day record for that date (5.8 inches in 2004) and ranking among the top one-day totals in city history.[^1] Storm totals across the Tri-State reached 10 to 16 inches in many spots, with some neighborhoods seeing even higher accumulations, marking the heaviest snowfall since events like February 1998.[^2] The storm arrived over the weekend, with heavy snow falling primarily on Sunday, January 25, followed by frigid temperatures dipping near or below zero, icy conditions, and lingering drifts that made travel challenging for days.

In response, Cincinnati Public Schools (CPS)—serving approximately 35,000 students and 6,500 staff across 66 schools—closed for three consecutive days: Monday, January 26; Tuesday, January 27; and Wednesday, January 28, 2026. Classes resumed on Thursday, January 29, after Superintendent Shauna Murphy announced the reopening, emphasizing safety as the top priority while calling on the community to clear sidewalks, salt icy patches, and ensure safe access to bus stops and crosswalks.[^3] Murphy’s statement highlighted the district’s eagerness to welcome students back but underscored the need for collective effort: “We are eager to welcome our students back, and we need the community’s help to make their commute safer.”[^4] This three-day shutdown drew sharp criticism from some residents, who argued that roads were passable relatively quickly, with many areas shoveled or plowed by Monday morning, and that the closure exemplified broader societal trends toward excessive caution.

Ohio’s snow emergency levels provide context for the decisions. Hamilton County, encompassing Cincinnati, declared a Level 3 snow emergency starting at 6 p.m. on Sunday, January 25, restricting roads to emergency personnel only due to heavy accumulation, ice, and extreme cold.[^5] By Monday, it downgraded to Level 2 before rush hour, and further to Level 1 by Tuesday or Wednesday in many areas, signaling improving but still hazardous conditions.[^6] Neighboring counties like Butler, Clermont, and Warren followed similar patterns, starting high and reducing as plowing progressed. These levels guide travel restrictions but leave school closure calls to superintendents, who weigh factors like bus safety, sidewalk accessibility, building conditions, staff availability, and liability risks.

The critique centers not on the storm’s severity—undeniably substantial—but on the response, particularly the extended closure of public schools like CPS. By Monday, much of the snow had been cleared from major roads, and personal observations from driving across Cincinnati showed navigable conditions despite piled snowbanks and side-street challenges. Trash collection continued in many areas, albeit with difficulties, and businesses operated, albeit with some disruptions. In northern states like Minnesota, the Dakotas, or the Northeast, similar or heavier snowfalls prompt adaptation rather than widespread shutdowns—plows run continuously, residents clear driveways, and life proceeds with gritted determination. Human tenacity historically overcomes such obstacles without paralyzing entire systems.

Yet in Cincinnati, the three-day closure extended beyond what many deemed necessary. An hour delay or two on Monday might have sufficed, allowing students and staff to resume routines while addressing residual hazards. Instead, the decision reinforced a pattern: prioritize “safety” above all, even when it borders on overcaution. Critics argue this hides administrative convenience—avoiding liability from potential accidents, bus delays, or injuries—and teacher/staff reluctance to brave conditions. Union influences and bureaucratic inertia play roles; it’s easier to close than coordinate amid risks. The superintendent’s plea for community help clearing sidewalks subtly shifts responsibility outward while justifying the delay.

This mentality extends far beyond one storm. Modern society increasingly hides behind “safety” to mask laziness, lack of fortitude, or aversion to discomfort. Public education, meant to prepare children for adulthood, instead teaches yielding to challenges. When schools close at the first sign of trouble—snow, cold, rain—children learn that crises warrant retreat, not resilience. They absorb that excuses like “it’s too dangerous” or “liability concerns” trump duty. This coddling produces adults unprepared for reality: drivers who panic on slightly slippery roads despite modern vehicles with traction control and front-wheel drive; workers who demand remote setups post-COVID or call off for minor inconveniences; individuals who turn to substances like legalized marijuana to “mellow out” stress rather than confront it.

The generational shift is stark. Older generations fought through blizzards, building character through adversity—shoveling without complaint, driving cautiously but confidently, showing up regardless. Today’s youth, shaped by administrative-heavy systems, learn the opposite: safety trumps effort, government coddles, and challenges are avoided. Public schools, funded by taxpayer dollars, bear particular responsibility. CPS, like many districts, emphasizes emotional well-being, equity, and risk aversion over grit and productivity. When closures occur, lost instructional time compounds—though Ohio’s flexible calamity day rules and built-in hours often prevent make-up days, as CPS’s 2025-2026 calendar allows significant buffer before extensions.[^7]

The economic ripple is profound. Extended closures disrupt families—parents miss work or juggle childcare—while signaling to the workforce that productivity yields to comfort. In large corporations, remote work persists as a “safety” holdover, eroding collaboration and output. In education, unions and administrators prioritize protection over performance, facilitating below-average effort. When 80% of society adopts this mindset, productivity plummets, innovation stalls, and resilience erodes.

Add legalized marijuana to the mix, and problems compound. Drivers already slow-reacting under optimal conditions—mellowed, delayed starts from stops, hesitant turns—face amplified hazards in snow. Untrained in crisis navigation due to school-taught avoidance, they crawl at 20-25 mph on 45-50 mph roads, causing backups and accidents. This isn’t mere anecdote; it’s observable in rush-hour chaos post-storm, where inexperience met residual ice.

The root lies in public education’s philosophical shift. Once emphasizing arithmetic, reading, citizenship, and perseverance, it now prioritizes social dynamics, safety protocols, and emotional shielding. Kids learn popularity contests and group norms but not how to dominate adversity—change a tire, shovel efficiently, drive in snow, or push through discomfort. They grow into adults who fear everything: cold feet, back strain, minor slips. Liberals, often dominating urban administrations like Hamilton County’s, amplify this by framing caution as compassion, using “safety” to justify inaction.

Contrast with private enterprise: businesses stayed open where possible, adapting because survival demands it. Taxpayer-funded entities like CPS face less pressure, hiding behind bureaucracy. The result? A softer society, less productive, more dependent. One storm exposes it: three days off for what could have been managed with delays teaches surrender, not strength.

This isn’t compassion—it’s detriment. True care prepares people to thrive amid hardship, not hide from it. Future generations will inherit adults ill-equipped for crises—marital, financial, or meteorological—because schools modeled yielding. It’s embarrassing, pathetic even, when paid services fail to model fortitude.

West Chester and surrounding areas, with their Republican-leaning success, resist some of this, but urban cores like Cincinnati succumb. The lesson: vigilance preserves excellence. Yielding to every flake erodes it gradually. Snowmageddon 2026 wasn’t apocalyptic in scale but in implication—society’s softening, starting in classrooms.

Shame on those who hide laziness behind safety. Fight through, show up, dominate the crisis. That’s how good communities—and people—endure.

Bibliography

•  Cincinnati Enquirer. “How much snow did we get? Yes, we broke records.” January 26, 2026. https://www.cincinnati.com/story/weather/2026/01/26/cincinnati-snow-record-how-much-snow-did-we-get-ohio/88358201007

•  FOX19. “PHOTOS: A blanket of white covers the Tri-State.” January 25, 2026. https://www.fox19.com/2026/01/26/photos-blanket-white-covers-tri-state

•  Cincinnati Public Schools. “CPS to Reopen Thursday, Jan. 29, 2026.” https://www.cps-k12.org/all-news/default-news-page/~board/district-homepage-news/post/cps-to-reopen-thursday-jan-29-2026

•  Cincinnati Enquirer. “Cincinnati schools reopening Jan. 29, other districts remain closed.” January 28, 2026. https://www.cincinnati.com/story/news/education/2026/01/28/cincinnati-schools-reopening-jan-29-other-districts-stay-closed/88402584007

•  City of Cheviot. “Hamilton County Level 3 Snow Emergency.” January 25, 2026. https://cheviot.org/hamilton-county-level-3-snow-emergency

•  Cincinnati Enquirer. “Snow emergency levels in Ohio today.” January 27, 2026. https://www.cincinnati.com/story/weather/2026/01/27/snow-emergency-levels-in-ohio-today-updates/88374686007

•  Cincinnati Public Schools Calendar 2025-2026. https://www.cps-k12.org/calendar

[^1]: National Weather Service data cited in Cincinnati Enquirer, Jan. 26, 2026.

[^2]: FOX19 reporting on storm totals, Jan. 25, 2026.

[^3]: CPS official announcement, Jan. 28, 2026.

[^4]: Superintendent Shauna Murphy statement, WLWT and FOX19 coverage.

[^5]: Hamilton County Sheriff’s declaration, Jan. 25, 2026.

[^6]: County downgrades reported in Cincinnati Enquirer, Jan. 27, 2026.

[^7]: CPS calendar and calamity day rules, Cincinnati Enquirer, Feb. 2, 2026.

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

The Unraveling of Commissioner Cindy Carpenter: When Behavior Catches Up in Butler County Politics

In Butler County, Ohio, public office is supposed to be about service, fiscal responsibility, and representing the people who elected you—not leveraging your title for personal favors, flipping off constituents on camera, or repeatedly crossing party lines while clinging to a Republican label. Yet for over a decade, Butler County Commissioner Cindy Carpenter has operated in ways that have tested those expectations, culminating in a series of self-inflicted controversies that now threaten her long-held seat. The latest chapter, unfolding quietly but decisively in early February 2026, marks a turning point: on February 3, 2026, during a regularly scheduled commissioners’ meeting, the board—acting on advice from Prosecutor Michael Gmoser—voted to remove Carpenter from her position on the Housing and Homeless Coalition board due to mounting complaints about her conduct. This isn’t speculation or rumor; it’s documented in public video of the meeting, where the prosecutor’s guidance was read into the record, underscoring that the severity of the issues warranted her immediate removal pending further review.[1]

This move didn’t come out of nowhere. It builds directly on the December 2025 investigation into Carpenter’s heated exchange at her granddaughter’s apartment complex near Miami University in Oxford. What started as a family visit escalated into accusations of racist language, intimidation, and abuse of office. The apartment manager filed a formal complaint, prompting Prosecutor Gmoser to investigate. His report, read aloud at a commission meeting shortly after, cleared her of criminal wrongdoing—no charges for intimidation or racial utterances that would trigger prosecution—but pulled no punches on the optics: her behavior was “distasteful” and “beneath the dignity of an elected officeholder.”[2] Carpenter admitted to making an obscene gesture (the middle finger) caught on video, but denied any racial slurs. The prosecutor emphasized it wasn’t illegal, but that leniency was never meant to be a free pass. It was a warning that such actions erode public trust, especially from someone in a position of authority.

Fast-forward to January 2026, and the political repercussions accelerated. The Butler County Republican Party, which had long endorsed Carpenter in past cycles, shifted decisively. At their endorsement meeting, they backed challenger Michael Ryan—a former Hamilton City Council member—with a strong 71% vote, described internally as “historic.”[3] Carpenter didn’t even seek the endorsement this time, a move party chair Todd Hall called “not unusual” for her, but one that spoke volumes. Ryan’s platform emphasizes conservative values, accountability, and a fresh approach to county issues like economic development and public safety—areas where Carpenter’s tenure has drawn criticism for divisiveness. Other challengers, including a Democrat (Mike Miller) and minor Republican candidates, round out the May 2026 primary field, but Ryan’s GOP backing positions him as the serious alternative.

Why the party abandonment? It’s not just politics; it’s pattern recognition. Carpenter has served since 2011, winning multiple terms but often amid complaints about her temperament. Colleagues and observers describe her as “difficult” to work with—quick to outbursts, resistant to collaboration, and prone to going rogue on policy. One glaring example: while holding a Republican endorsement, she was caught campaigning for a Democrat—Middletown’s mayor—at a polling place, holding signs and promoting the candidate.[4] That incident alone alienated many in the GOP base, who saw it as a slap in the face to party loyalty. For years, she received the benefit of the doubt: “That’s just her personality,” people said. “She flies off the handle sometimes, but she’s effective.” But effectiveness wears thin when trust erodes.

The homelessness portfolio, ironically, has been a flashpoint. Carpenter has long advocated for addressing homelessness, chairing related committees, and pushing for more permanent supportive housing units (she cited a need for 274 in prior gap analyses).[5] Yet her approach has sparked internal rifts. In 2025, she led a grassroots effort through her Housing and Homeless Collaborative to remove Butler County from Ohio’s Balance of State Continuum of Care, seeking independent HUD status to secure additional funding potentially.[6] Commissioners Don Dixon and T.C. Rogers vigorously opposed it, sending objection letters and questioning accountability for millions of taxpayer dollars. Dixon was concerned about providers making unchecked decisions without voter oversight; Carpenter argued that urban counties like Hamilton and Montgomery receive far more funding under similar arrangements.[7] The split highlighted her willingness to buck the majority on the board she shares with them.

Enter the February 3, 2026, meeting. Amid ongoing fallout from the Oxford incident, new complaints surfaced—severe enough that Prosecutor Gmoser advised Dixon and Rogers, as legal counsel to the board, to remove Carpenter from the Housing and Homeless Coalition board immediately.[8] The prosecutor isn’t pursuing criminal charges (yet), but his guidance underscores that elected officials must maintain public confidence. Complaints from coalition members, providers, or stakeholders—possibly building on years of perceived abrasiveness—pushed the issue over the edge. Dixon voted in favor of the removal; the action passed, stripping her from a board central to her self-proclaimed expertise. Video from the meeting shows the discussion, the prosecutor’s letter read aloud, and the vote—no ambiguity.[9]

This isn’t a partisan witch hunt. The complaints aren’t coming solely from political opponents; they’re from people who’ve dealt with her directly—young residents at the apartment complex who felt bullied, coalition partners frustrated by her style, and even fellow Republicans tired of defending the indefensible. As noted, “You can’t be mad and say things or do things that people can scrutinize negatively—you have to be smart enough not to walk into traps.” Throwing your weight around as a commissioner to demand special treatment for family, then escalating when challenged, is exactly that trap. When it’s on camera, it doesn’t fade; it festers.

The broader lesson here is accountability. Public officials aren’t above scrutiny. Carpenter’s 11+ years in office gave her the benefit of the doubt for too long—personality quirks excused, party-crossing overlooked, outbursts tolerated. But once the Oxford video surfaced, the dam broke. More people felt empowered to speak: “If she did that there, what about here?” The prosecutor’s initial “not criminal, but distasteful” statement was fair at the time; now, with additional complaints drawing him back in, it’s harder to dismiss. He has other priorities—crime, opioids, budgets—but when complaints pile up against a commissioner, he must investigate. Removing her from the homelessness board isn’t punishment; it’s prudence. Trust in county government requires it.

For voters heading into the May 2026 primary, the choice is clear. Michael Ryan offers a contrast: endorsed by the GOP, focused on conservative principles, and with no history of similar scandals. He’s attended events, built relationships, and positioned himself as a team player. Carpenter’s absence from many GOP gatherings and her reputation for difficulty have left her isolated. The primary isn’t about punishing her—it’s about what’s best for Butler County. A commissioner who can’t handle public interaction without controversy, who loses party support, and who faces board removals isn’t serving effectively.

Her past is catching up because she built the momentum herself. No one forced her to go to that apartment complex and leverage her title. No one made her flip off people on camera. No one compelled the emotional outbursts or party-line crossings. Those were choices. Now, consequences follow—not because of “politics,” but because behavior matters. In a Republican-leaning county like Butler, voters expect alignment and decorum. When that’s absent, options emerge.

This story matters beyond one person. It reminds everyone in the office that power is temporary and trust is earned daily. When you abuse it—even in small ways—it compounds. Carpenter could have de-escalated, apologized fully, and collaborated more. Instead, the pattern continued, and now the board on which she sits has acted against her. The prosecutor provided avenues for explanation; she hasn’t helped herself.

Butler County deserves better than stale leadership mired in self-made drama. The shoes are dropping, and they’re landing squarely where they belong—on choices made over the years.  Cindy Carpenter is a mess, and there are now fewer and fewer people around to clean it up.  Because she just keeps making messes. 

Bibliography / Sources

1.  Video evidence from Butler County Commissioners’ meeting, February 3, 2026 (public session; removal vote and prosecutor’s advice read into record).

2.  Butler County Prosecutor Michael Gmoser’s report, December 2025 (read into commission record; covered in Journal-News, December 3, 2025).

3.  Butler County GOP endorsement announcement for Michael Ryan, January 2026 (Journal-News, January 12, 2026).

4.  Reports of Carpenter campaigning for the Democratic Middletown mayor (local accounts, referenced in multiple critiques).

5.  Carpenter statements on homelessness gap analysis (Journal-News, various 2023–2025 articles).

6.  Efforts to redesignate Continuum of Care (Journal-News, March 2025; Cincinnati Enquirer, July 2025).

7.  Dixon/Rogers objection letter and board discussions (Citizen Portal, March 2025).

8.  Prosecutor Gmoser’s advice on board removal (February 3, 2026, meeting video; emerging mentions on social media, e.g., Facebook groups).

9.  Public meeting archives, Butler County website (butlercountyohio.org; video footage).

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Lakota’s Justin Daniel Dennis Pleads Guilty: The common problem of sex abuse in public schools

The case of Justin Daniel Dennis, a former social studies teacher at Lakota East High School in the Lakota Local School District (Butler County, Ohio), exemplifies a persistent and troubling issue in American public education: educator sexual misconduct with students. On January 28, 2026, Dennis pleaded guilty in Butler County Common Pleas Court to three counts of attempted sexual battery, third-degree felonies. Five additional counts of sexual battery were dismissed as part of the plea agreement. He faces a potential maximum sentence of 18 months per count (up to 4.5 years total) and mandatory registration as a Tier III sex offender. Sentencing is scheduled for March 12, 2026.

The misconduct occurred during the 2021-2022 school year, when the victim—a 17-year-old senior and member of the Hope Squad (a student mental health assistance group Dennis advised)—engaged in a months-long sexual relationship with him. According to court documents and the Butler County Sheriff’s Office, the pair had consensual sexual intercourse and oral sex multiple times in various locations: Dennis’s classroom at Lakota East High School, his home in West Chester Township, his former home in Liberty Township, and the parking lot of the victim’s workplace in Springdale. The relationship came to light years later when the victim (now in her 20s) provided investigators with text message threads discussing their past interactions, serving as key evidence.

Dennis, then 42 (now 43), taught subjects including psychology, economics, and government. He was arrested in August 2025 on initial charges, indicted on eight counts of sexual battery in September 2025, and was no longer employed by the district. Authorities emphasized the betrayal of trust inherent in his dual role as teacher and mentor.

This incident is far from isolated. Educator sexual misconduct—ranging from inappropriate comments and grooming to physical contact and intercourse—remains a significant problem in U.S. public schools. A landmark 2004 U.S. Department of Education report by Charol Shakeshaft estimated that 9.6% of K-12 students experience some form of educator sexual misconduct during their school career. More recent research, including a 2022 multistate survey of recent high school graduates, found 11.7% reported at least one instance, with 11% involving sexual comments and smaller percentages involving physical acts like touching or intercourse. Perpetrators are predominantly male (around 85% in recent data), and victims are often female (around 72%). Academic teachers commit the majority (about 63%), followed by coaches or gym teachers (20%).

Underreporting is a major barrier to accurate prevalence estimates. Disclosure rates to authorities are extremely low—often around 4-5%—due to fear, shame, grooming tactics (e.g., special attention, gifts), or societal stigma. Many cases surface years later, as in Dennis’s, when victims gain distance and perspective. Nationwide, hundreds of educators face charges annually; for instance, analyses of news reports have documented over 100-200 teacher arrests for child sex crimes in single years, though this captures only reported and prosecuted cases.

In Ohio specifically, the issue mirrors national trends. The Ohio Department of Education has disciplined dozens of educators for sexual misconduct in various periods, with cases involving sexual battery, gross sexual imposition, and related felonies. While exact statewide statistics for 2021-2026 are not centralized in public reports, local investigations (e.g., in the Miami Valley) have identified multiple convictions since the mid-2010s, often involving classroom or school-related encounters. Social media and text evidence frequently play a role in detection, as seen here.

Broader systemic factors contribute to these incidents. Public school teachers often enjoy tenure-like protections through collective bargaining agreements, which can complicate the removal of teachers for misconduct. Salaries in districts such as Lakota can reach six figures, with benefits and summers off—conditions that some argue foster complacency or entitlement in low-accountability environments. Unions rarely publicly condemn members aggressively or advocate stricter self-policing; instead, they often defend due process.

Progressive ideologies in education—emphasizing emotional expression over restraint, secularism over traditional moral frameworks, and sometimes reduced emphasis on authority boundaries—may exacerbate temptations in authority dynamics. Vulnerable students (e.g., those facing personal issues, seeking mentorship, or in transitional phases such as senior year) may misinterpret grooming as care, using their bodies as “currency” to obtain attention or support. Parental abdication also plays a role: many families rely on schools as extended babysitters, outsourcing moral and emotional guidance amid busy lives or dual-career pressures.

Critics argue these cases represent the “tip of the iceberg.” Estimates suggest that 10-20% of educators may engage in boundary-crossing behavior over their careers, though most do not escalate to criminal levels or detection. Unreported incidents could involve brief encounters, emotional affairs, or grooming that victims rationalize or suppress. Long-term effects on victims include difficulties with trust, relationships, mental health, and family formation—trauma that can persist into adulthood.

Addressing this requires higher standards: merit-based evaluations tied to performance and conduct, proactive monitoring (e.g., open-door policies, supervision), robust background checks, and cultural shifts toward accountability. Parents must prioritize involvement over convenience, and society must reinforce moral boundaries rather than relativism. Teacher unions and districts should condemn misconduct unequivocally rather than defensively.

The Dennis case, in a reputedly strong district like Lakota, underscores that no community is immune. It demands scrutiny of funding, governance, and cultural priorities in public education. Taxpayers fund these institutions, expecting safety and positive development—not betrayal. Until accountability trumps protectionism, such tragedies will recur.

This case at Lakota is terrible along many fronts.  It’s not only the abuse of a teacher in an authority role over a subordinate that provoked the abuse of that trust relationship; it is also within the broader culture as a whole.  The parents who tolerate it.  The fellow teachers who know that a young lady has been in a classroom alone with a teacher for too long, with the door shut but did nothing about it, and the buzz in the hallways that never gets help.  Even further, it ultimately falls on the parents themselves, who unquestioningly trust authority figures because they are too lazy to do the work of parenting themselves, leaving their children vulnerable to predators who are drawn to the teaching profession with high incomes and lots of leisure time to spend on corrupt fantasies.  The problem is, this isn’t an unusual problem; it’s a common one.  And if you are sending your children to these public school indoctrination factories, you are likely ruining their potential permanently.  They will struggle in life because of their terrible experiences with teachers who have no reservations about abusing them sexually and otherwise.  It is currently one of the largest catastrophes our society has experienced.

Bibliography

•  WLWT News. “Ex-Lakota East teacher accused of having sexual relationship with student pleads guilty.” January 29, 2026. https://www.wlwt.com/article/former-lakota-east-high-school-teacher-pleads-guilty-sexual-battery/70190023

•  Journal-News. “Ex-Lakota teacher pleads guilty to attempted sexual battery ahead of trial.” January 29, 2026. https://www.journal-news.com/news/ex-lakota-teacher-pleads-guilty-to-attempted-sexual-battery-ahead-of-trial/TRVY2B7PDBAR3OON2YC2P2P7FE

•  FOX19. “Former Tri-State teacher accused of having sex with student pleads guilty.” January 29, 2026. https://www.fox19.com/2026/01/29/former-tri-state-teacher-accused-having-sex-with-student-pleads-guilty

•  Cincinnati Enquirer. “Former Lakota East High School teacher pleads guilty to sexual battery.” January 29, 2026. https://www.cincinnati.com/story/news/crime/2026/01/29/ex-lakota-east-high-school-teacher-admits-to-having-sex-with-student/88417654007

•  Butler County Sheriff’s Office. “Lakota East High School Teacher Arrested on Sexual Battery Charge.” August 4, 2025. https://www.butlersheriff.org/news-releases/lakota-east-high-school-teacher-arrested-on-sexual-battery-charge

•  Shakeshaft, Charol. “Educator Sexual Misconduct: A Synthesis of Existing Literature.” U.S. Department of Education, 2004.

•  Abboud et al. “The Nature and Scope of Educator Misconduct in K-12.” 2022 study referenced in multiple sources, including Psychology Today (May 17, 2023). https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/protecting-children-from-sexual-abuse/202305/educator-sexual-misconduct-remains-prevalent-in

•  U.S. Department of Education, Office for Civil Rights. “Sexual Violence in K-12 Schools Issue Brief.” (Data from 2017-2018). https://www.ed.gov/sites/ed/files/about/offices/list/ocr/docs/sexual-violence.pdf

•  Ferretly Blog. “Teacher Student Sexual Relationship Statistics.” December 19, 2024. https://www.ferretly.com/blog/teacher-student-sexual-misconduct-the-critical-role-of-social-media-screening

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Hamilton City Schools is Just the First: Years of collective bargaining agreements bankrupted public education

The announcement by Hamilton City Schools Superintendent Andrea Blevins in mid-January 2026 marked a significant moment in the ongoing fiscal challenges facing public education in Ohio. The district, serving the city of Hamilton in Butler County, unveiled a plan to eliminate approximately 153 positions—representing about 12% of its workforce—as part of a broader strategy to address a projected $10 million structural deficit for the 2026–2027 school year.<sup>1</sup> This included closing buildings such as Fairwood Elementary, consolidating the freshman campus into the high school, outsourcing preschool and nursing services, and implementing reductions across administrative, teaching, clerical, food service, custodial, and other roles.<sup>2</sup> While the initial figure of 153 positions was highlighted in media reports, district officials noted that through natural attrition and retirements, the actual number of forced separations could drop to around 101 or even fewer, with changes set to take effect starting in August 2026 to allow adequate notice.<sup>3</sup>

The shortfall stems from multiple converging factors: reduced state foundation funding under Ohio’s revised allocation formulas, recent changes in property tax laws that limit revenue growth, and declining student enrollment, reflecting broader demographic shifts in industrial communities like Hamilton.<sup>4</sup> These issues are not isolated; they illustrate a national and state-level reckoning with the sustainability of traditional public school funding models that have long relied on escalating property tax levies and generous state aid. In Hamilton’s case, the district’s current-year deficit was already around $5 million, with projections escalating without intervention, prompting proactive measures to avoid deeper program cuts or emergency borrowing.<sup>5</sup>

This development aligns with longstanding critiques of public education’s dependency on perpetual tax increases and union-driven collective bargaining agreements that prioritize salary scales, legacy costs, and benefits over merit-based compensation or operational efficiency. For decades, many Ohio school districts have assumed voters would approve levies to cover rising costs, including teacher salaries that often exceed private-sector equivalents for comparable education levels and workloads.<sup>6</sup> In Hamilton, as in neighboring districts, the era of unchecked levy approvals has ended amid economic pressures: inflation, housing affordability challenges, and taxpayer fatigue from repeated requests for additional funds. Property taxes, which fund a substantial portion of local school budgets in Ohio, have become particularly burdensome in areas with stagnant or declining industrial bases, where businesses relocate to avoid high taxation, leaving residential properties to shoulder more of the load.<sup>7</sup>

Nearby Lakota Local Schools in Butler County provide a parallel example. In 2025, voters rejected a $506 million bond issue and a permanent improvement levy tied to a district-wide facilities redesign, signaling resistance to additional tax burdens, even for infrastructure needs.<sup>8</sup> Lakota’s prior operating levies had sustained operations without new asks since 2013, but the failed 2025 measure highlighted growing skepticism toward large-scale spending proposals. This rejection occurred amid broader discussions of school choice and funding equity, where money follows students rather than zip codes, potentially forcing districts to compete on quality and cost.<sup>9</sup>

The broader Ohio context points to a deliberate policy shift toward tax relief. Political momentum, amplified by figures associated with the Trump administration and candidates like Vivek Ramaswamy in his 2026 gubernatorial bid, emphasizes reducing or eliminating state income taxes while pursuing significant rollbacks in property taxes—the “largest in Ohio’s history,” as Ramaswamy has proposed.<sup>10</sup> Ramaswamy’s platform includes making Ohio a zero-income-tax state to attract residents and businesses, coupled with aggressive property tax reductions to ease homeowner burdens and stimulate economic growth.<sup>11</sup> These ideas build on existing reforms that have lowered Ohio’s top personal income tax rate over the past decade and eliminated certain business taxes, though often at the expense of state aid to local services like schools.<sup>12</sup> Federal-level discussions under the Trump administration, including revenue from tariffs and potential clawbacks of federal taxes, further support a trajectory of lighter local tax loads over the coming decades.<sup>13</sup>

Critics of traditional public education funding argue that overreliance on property taxes has distorted community development. High levies deter business investment, contribute to population outflows, and exacerbate housing affordability issues, particularly for young families entering the market.<sup>14</sup> In declining industrial cities like Hamilton, where companies have long since departed, the tax base weakens further, creating a vicious cycle: fewer resources lead to service reductions, which accelerate out-migration. The push for enterprise zones and economic revitalization in such areas requires restraint on taxation to attract private capital, rather than burdening new opportunities with endless school funding demands.<sup>15</sup>

At the heart of these fiscal realities lies a deeper philosophical debate about the value and efficiency of public education. Collective bargaining has secured escalating wages, often tied to advanced degrees rather than performance, resulting in average teacher salaries well above those in many private-sector roles, despite generous vacation time, summers off, and job security.<sup>16</sup> Historical data shows Ohio teacher pay rising from averages around $63,000–$65,000 in the early 2010s to higher figures today, adjusted for inflation but still outpacing many comparable professions.<sup>17</sup> Proponents of reform contend that merit-based systems, competition from charters and private options, and student-centered funding (where per-pupil allocations follow the child) would incentivize excellence and cost control. Without zip-code-based monopolies, schools must attract families through superior results, not guaranteed enrollment.<sup>18</sup>

Additional pressures include the perceived ideological drift in curricula, where progressive influences have sometimes prioritized social agendas over core academic rigor, contributing to generations of students entering adulthood with skill gaps, delayed independence, and reliance on parental support.<sup>19</sup> This undermines the future tax base, as young adults struggle to form households, start families, and contribute economically. The traditional model—free transportation, extended daycare-like hours, and heavy administrative overhead—has been criticized as unsustainable, as parents increasingly drive their children to school or seek alternatives.<sup>20</sup>

The Hamilton announcement serves as an early indicator of inevitable restructuring across Ohio and beyond. Districts facing similar shortfalls will need to prioritize efficiency, reduce legacy costs, and adapt to competitive models. Charter schools, homeschooling, and voucher programs will gain traction as families demand better value. While painful in the short term—job losses, building consolidations, and service adjustments—the transition promises a more accountable, innovative education landscape aligned with economic realities and taxpayer priorities.<sup>21</sup>

This shift reflects a broader cultural move toward meritocracy, fiscal responsibility, and reduced government dependency. Public schools will survive, but in leaner, more responsive forms, focused on delivering robust education rather than serving as employment vehicles or ideological platforms. The warnings issued over the years about unsustainable models have materialized; adaptation, not denial, offers the path forward.<sup>22</sup> But as all these things are happening, don’t say I didn’t warn everyone.  They chose to ignore the inevitable.  The public school product costs too much.  Does too little.  And has turned out to be destructive to society, not beneficial.  So lots of changes are coming, because they have to. 

Bibliography

•  Local 12 (WKRC), “Tri-State school district to cut 153 positions, close school amid $9.6M budget shortfall,” January 22, 2026.

•  FOX19, “Hamilton City Schools announces $9.6M in budget cuts, job losses,” January 20, 2026.

•  WCPO, “Hamilton Schools announce cuts, including building closures,” January 2026.

•  Journal-News, “Hamilton Schools announce cuts, including building closures,” January 16, 2026.

•  WVXU, “Voters reject $506M Lakota Schools levy proposal,” November 4, 2025.

•  Forbes, “Vivek Ramaswamy Wants To Make Ohio The Ninth No-Income-Tax State,” March 13, 2025 (updated context 2026).

•  Cincinnati Enquirer, “Vivek Ramaswamy running for Ohio governor. Wants to end income, property taxes,” February 24, 2025.

•  Policy Matters Ohio, reports on state tax shifts and education funding, 2024–2026.

•  Tax Foundation, Ohio tax data and rankings, updated 2026.

Footnotes

1.  FOX19, “Hamilton City Schools announces $9.6M in budget cuts, job losses,” January 20, 2026.

2.  Local 12 (WKRC), “Tri-State school district to cut 153 positions,” January 22, 2026.

3.  Journal-News, “Hamilton Schools announce cuts,” January 16, 2026.

4.  Citizen Portal AI summary of Blevins’ presentation, January 16, 2026.

5.  WCPO coverage of Hamilton budget announcement, January 2026.

6.  Historical analyses from the Ohio Department of Education reports on teacher compensation trends.

7.  Tax Foundation data on Ohio property tax burdens relative to income.

8.  WVXU, “Voters reject $506M Lakota Schools levy proposal,” November 4, 2025.

9.  Lakota Local Schools’ official statements on 2025 ballot rejection.

10.  Vivek Ramaswamy campaign announcements, January 2026 (e.g., Facebook video on zero income tax and property tax rollback).

11.  Forbes article on Ramaswamy’s gubernatorial platform, with 2026 updates.

12.  Policy Matters Ohio, “The Great Ohio Tax Shift,” 2024–2025 analyses.

13.  Broader Trump administration economic policy discussions, 2025–2026.

14.  Economic studies on tax competition and business relocation in Midwest states.

15.  Hamilton enterprise zone revitalization efforts referenced in local economic development plans.

16.  Ohio teacher salary data from the National Education Association and state reports.

17.  Inflation-adjusted comparisons from the Bureau of Labor Statistics and Ohio data.

18.  School choice advocacy from organizations like EdChoice and Ohio-specific voucher expansions.

19.  Critiques in education policy literature on curriculum content and outcomes.

20.  Parental transportation trends from the U.S. Department of Transportation and local surveys.

21.  Projections from the Ohio Legislative Service Commission on education funding reforms.

22.  Long-term forecasts in state five-year financial reports for districts like Hamilton and Lakota.

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

The Tyranny of a Snowpocolpyse: Bending the knee to nature to satisfy a Marxist agenda of harming the American economy

The massive winter storm that swept across much of North America in late January 2026, often referred to in the media as a historic or “monster” event, brought heavy snowfall, ice, and extreme cold from the southern plains to the Northeast and beyond. This storm, impacting regions from Texas to New York and even parts of New Mexico and New England, dumped more than a foot of snow in numerous areas, shattered daily snowfall records in some locations, caused widespread power outages affecting over a million customers at peak, led to thousands of flight cancellations, and was linked to multiple fatalities due to accidents, hypothermia, and related incidents.

In the Ohio Valley, particularly around Cincinnati and its surrounding counties, the storm arrived over the weekend of January 24-26, 2026, with heavy snowfall primarily on January 25. The National Weather Service reported that Cincinnati (KCVG airport area) received about 10.2 inches total, with 9.2 inches falling on January 25 alone, breaking the daily record for January 25. Nearby areas in Butler County saw higher totals: Middletown reported 13.3 inches, Monroe 13.1 inches, and other spots in the county ranging from 12 to 13 inches. Northern areas like Columbus tallied around 12 inches, while rural eastern Ohio locations approached or exceeded higher amounts in some cases.

Snow emergency levels were declared across the region. In Butler County, under Republican-led leadership, including Sheriff Richard K. Jones, the county was placed under a Level 2 snow emergency during the peak (roadways hazardous with blowing and drifting snow; only necessary travel advised), later downgraded to Level 1 by January 26 as conditions improved. This contrasted with Hamilton County (encompassing Cincinnati, often under more Democratic influence), which escalated to a Level 3 emergency on Sunday evening—closing roads to non-emergency personnel—before dropping to Level 2 by Monday morning. Adjacent counties like Warren and Clermont mostly stayed at Level 1 or 2, with crews actively clearing roads.

The storm’s broader impacts were severe: Over 19,000 flights canceled nationwide, power outages peaking above 1 million customers (heaviest in states like Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas), and at least 12-29 deaths reported across the U.S. from causes including hypothermia, accidents on ice/snow, and exertion-related incidents while shoveling. In the South, ice accumulation was particularly damaging, while in the North, deeper snow was more common. The event affected an estimated 200 million people under some form of winter weather alert.

This widespread disruption evoked comparisons to past events, notably the harsh winters of 1977-1978. In January 1977, extreme cold led to the Ohio River freezing over in Cincinnati, allowing people—including children—to walk across it in places, amid fuel shortages and prolonged subzero temperatures. The Great Blizzard of 1978 was even more intense in the Ohio Valley and Great Lakes, with blinding winds, massive drifts, and statewide halts to transportation and business for days. Back then, despite less advanced equipment (fewer four-wheel-drive vehicles or monster trucks common today), people adapted: they ventured out, worked through conditions, and communities rallied to help those stuck. The river freeze and blizzards were met with resilience rather than widespread shutdowns.

Yet the 2026 storm highlighted a perceived shift in societal behavior. Many called off work en masse on Monday (and even preemptively on Friday based on forecasts), leading to many businesses, including pizza places and fast-food outlets, closing. This echoed patterns seen during COVID-19, where official guidance to “stay home, stay safe” encouraged compliance over individual initiative. Historical data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics shows major snowstorms can cause millions of reduced work hours—e.g., one 1996 event affected over 10 million full-time workers—but modern responses often amplify caution through media hype and emergency declarations. Level 3 restrictions in places like Hamilton County explicitly limited non-essential travel, ostensibly to aid emergency crews, but critics argue this enables complacency, shifting responsibility from citizens to authorities.

In Butler County, roads were cleared efficiently within 24 hours, allowing easy travel by Monday with minimal traffic—ironically making commutes smoother for those who ventured out. Personal accounts of shoveling driveways, preparing vehicles, and carrying on with everyday routines stand in contrast to widespread absences, particularly among younger workers (under 45), who may have grown accustomed to “safety-first” messaging from authorities, unions, and the media. This generation, often described as coddled by constant warnings about minor inconveniences, seems quicker to yield to nature rather than dominate it through preparation and determination.

The core issue is philosophical: Human beings are meant to impose will over obstacles, not retreat at the first sign of adversity. Authorities exist to facilitate—clearing roads so the public can work —not to create excuses for inaction. When meteorologists, politicians, and experts amplify “apocalypse” narratives, it fosters dependency: stay home to avoid “white death,” much like mask mandates or lockdowns during pandemics. Yet the storm melted quickly, roads reopened, and no lasting drama ensued for those prepared.

This “snow apocalypse of 2026” exposed a weaker society, one embarrassed by its lack of fortitude. Older generations recall more brutal winters with fewer excuses; today, many use official declarations as justification for laziness. To thrive, we must reject this—clear your driveway, ready your vehicle, get to work (even if late), make up time, and help others stuck. Overcome impediments; don’t yield to them. The economy depends on production, not perpetual caution.

Reform starts with personal responsibility: Toughen up, prepare, and question when “experts” urge shutdowns that serve their convenience over the public’s productivity.  There is a deep root of rotten Marxism behind snow days like this one, where yielding to nature, and ultimately the authority of chaos, chips away at a capitalist culture.  Safety is meant to destroy personal initiative just as the riots of the mob are intended to eliminate the authority of the police and a law-and-order community.  While masking themselves as helpful, socialists looking for a way to get out of work pointed to safety and compliance with justice, a lack of effort, and it was embarrassing to witness.  Just like a mother that overly coddles their children, not for their own protection, but to stifle their intellectual growth so that they might never leave the nest, an overly tyrannical government filled with parental types looking for the thrill of having authority over subordinates dominates the decision-making process.  And what was embarrassing was that so many people fell for it because they wanted a free day off work to sit around their house and do nothing.  To watch mindless television and contribute little to the heroic efforts of a thriving economy.  And for everyone who chose to call off work and stay home, and to listen to the mindless authority types and their Marxist messages, it was a shameful display—a bunch of wimps who yielded to a snowpocalpyse with a bent knee driven by sheer laziness.  One thing is for sure, they don’t make people like they used to.  These last several generations are filled with wimps, losers, and slack-jawed impediments too lazy to live, and all too willing to submit to government authority types with Marxist agendas of stifling the American economy.  And all over a little bit of snow, they succeeded. 

Bibliography and Further Reading

1.  National Weather Service, Wilmington, OH. “January 24-25, 2026 – Winter Storm.” https://www.weather.gov/iln/20260125

2.  Cincinnati Enquirer. “How much snow did we get? Yes, we broke records. See new Ohio totals.” January 26, 2026. https://www.cincinnati.com/story/weather/2026/01/26/cincinnati-snow-record-how-much-snow-did-we-get-ohio/88358201007

3.  FOX19. “LIST: Entire Tri-State under snow advisories, Hamilton County under level 3 emergency.” January 25, 2026. https://www.fox19.com/2026/01/25/list-snow-emergencies-across-tri-state

4.  CNN. “January 25-26, 2026 — Winter storm.” https://www.cnn.com/weather/live-news/winter-storm-forecast-snow-ice-01-25-26-climate

5.  Wikipedia. “January 2026 North American winter storm.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/January_2026_North_American_winter_storm

6.  WLWT Archives. “In January of 1977, the Ohio River froze over.” https://www.wlwt.com/article/ohio-river-freezes-over-january-1977-cincinnati-ohio-winter/70062954

7.  National Weather Service. “Great Blizzard of 1978.” Referenced in historical summaries.

8.  U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. “Work absences due to bad weather from 1994 to 2016.” https://www.bls.gov/opub/ted/2017/work-absences-due-to-bad-weather-from-1994-to-2016.htm

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

The Danger of Never Outgrowing the Teacher: When academia becomes a platform for tyranny

There is a certain kind of academic enthusiasm that becomes dangerous not because the person is malicious, but because the person is earnest in precisely the wrong way, which is why I can’t stand the air that Amy Acton breathes. Many people encounter a thinker like Joseph Campbell at a formative age, as she did because we are roughly the same age, when the mind is still soft clay and every new idea feels like destiny itself. The problem is not the exposure — the problem is the arresting of development at that stage. They absorb the surface vocabulary, the archetypes, the metaphors, the rhythms of intellectualism, and then confuse that early awakening with mastery. Campbell himself warned repeatedly against confusing the first illumination with the completion of the journey. Yet so many people build their entire intellectual identity around that first spark, never noticing that its warmth has become a ceiling. They inherit the language of scholarship without inheriting the discipline of outgrowing the teacher, and that is where the trouble starts.

Academia often encourages this dynamic without realizing it. Institutions reward the ability to cite, to signal, to align, to display affiliation with the canon. They do not necessarily reward the thornier work of contradiction, independence, or divergence. The result is an entire class of individuals who are conversant with the lexicon of myth but not the substance of individuation. They quote Campbell without ever reenacting the very process he described — the departure from the familiar, the confrontation with one’s own shadow, the return with something genuinely earned. Instead of heroes, academia produces interpreters of heroes. Instead of individuals shaped by ordeal, it produces intellectual loyalists who cling to their early revelations as a kind of lifelong credential. When such individuals migrate into positions of authority, they use symbolic vocabulary as a substitute for actual expertise, believing that their comfort with metaphor qualifies them to govern reality itself.

What makes this especially troubling in public life is that misinterpretation hardens into ideology. Someone who never advanced beyond the first romantic reading of myth turns that reading into doctrine. They begin to treat the collective as the primary vessel of meaning and treat the individual as a replaceable component within a prefabricated cosmology. They believe that because they have internalized a symbolic framework, they are now equipped to guide society through its trials. But mythology, misread in that collectivized way, becomes a justification for control rather than a map for courage. It allows leaders to cloak their instincts in archetypes and present policy as though it were destiny. The more confidently they cite the canon, the more certain the audience becomes that they are hearing wisdom. Yet certainty built on a misreading is the most volatile certainty of all, because it turns sincerity into a weapon. Sincerity is no safeguard when the framework itself is flawed.

And that is the deeper danger: when someone sincerely believes their early intellectual awakening grants them the right to impose that awakening on everyone else. Knowledge, half‑formed and poorly examined, becomes a cudgel. Mythic vocabulary becomes a credential. Academic recognition becomes a mantle of authority rather than a starting point for self‑critique. People who never surpassed their teachers believe they honor the teacher by repeating him, but in truth they betray the teacher by fossilizing him. Campbell sought to liberate the individual; his imitators often unintentionally conscript the individual into their own mythic projection. And when this projection leaks into public policy, it creates a feedback loop where the symbolic substitutes for the empirical, the poetic replaces the practical, and the collective is treated as the final moral authority. That pattern is not merely misguided — it is dangerous anywhere real lives, real risks, and real consequences are at stake.

Dr. Amy Acton, the former Director of the Ohio Department of Health and a current Democratic candidate for governor in the 2026 election, has frequently drawn on mythological themes in her public remarks, particularly referencing the work of Joseph Campbell. During Ohio’s COVID-19 response in 2020, she evoked metaphors such as describing masks as a “superhero cape,” urging Ohioans to “wear both the cape and the mask” as “masked crusaders” to protect one another. This imagery positioned collective action—social distancing, masking, and shutdowns—as heroic, framing public health measures as a shared quest against an invisible threat, was and is very dangerous.

In more reflective settings, Acton has explicitly cited Campbell. In a 2022 commencement address at Ohio Wesleyan University, she described discovering Campbell around college age, crediting him with revealing a universal “hero’s journey” across world religions and mythologies. She explained that Campbell observed a recurring theme of a life well-lived: embarking on a quest, facing fears, slaying dragons, and returning with “gold” to benefit society. She tied this to her own experiences, including during press conferences amid the pandemic, where she mentioned him while reflecting on life’s seemingly rambling path composing into a “perfectly composed play.” In interviews, she listed Campbell alongside figures like Brené Brown and Alan Watts as inspirational reading she set aside for post-crisis reflection.

These references portray Acton as philosophically inclined, blending mythology with public service. She presents the hero’s journey as a personal compass for resilience, often emphasizing collective heroism—society pulling together on a “life raft” against ambiguity and threat. This aligns with her role in Ohio’s early, aggressive pandemic measures, including school closures, elective surgery halts, and stay-at-home orders, which she helped shape and sign as health director under Governor Mike DeWine.

However, a deeper engagement with Campbell’s work, particularly The Hero with a Thousand Faces (1949), reveals tensions in this application. Campbell’s monomyth describes the hero’s journey as an individual’s transformative adventure: separation from the ordinary world, initiation through trials, and return with a boon to share. While myths often serve societal functions, Campbell stresses the psychological and spiritual growth of the individual psyche. The hero confronts the unknown, integrates opposites (such as ego and shadow), and achieves individuation—a process of becoming a fully realized self beyond mere group conformity.

Campbell drew from Carl Jung’s collective unconscious and archetypes, viewing myths as expressions of inner human development rather than prescriptions for enforced collectivism. He explored the tension between individual and collective, noting how myths can bind people to social order but ultimately point toward personal transcendence. In later reflections, including his 1954-1955 journals published as Baksheesh and Brahman, Campbell expressed disillusionment with aspects of Indian culture after visiting. Having idealized Eastern traditions through texts, he encountered poverty, nationalism, religious rivalry, and a pervasive “baksheesh” (alms-seeking) culture that clashed with his scholarly expectations. This led him to question romanticized views of collectivist societies, reinforcing his emphasis on individual emergence over rigid group structures.

Critics of Acton’s approach might argue that her invocation of Campbell during the pandemic emphasized the collective “heroism” of compliance—masks as shared capes, society as a unified front—while sidelining the monomyth’s core: the individual’s confrontation with chaos for personal growth. Policies mandating lockdowns and restrictions, which Acton advocated and implemented, prioritized group safety and collective sacrifice over individual autonomy. This could be seen as inverting Campbell’s arc, where the hero ventures alone into the unknown rather than being compelled to remain in a restricted “ordinary world” for the group’s sake.

Scholarship in mythology and academia often faces similar pitfalls: early inspiration from a thinker like Campbell can become static, used to validate positions without further evolution. Many encounter The Hero with a Thousand Faces in youth or college, drawn to its universal patterns and empowering message of personal quests. Yet true depth requires moving beyond surface readings—outgrowing the teacher, as it were. Campbell himself encouraged this; he did not seek disciples but individuals who would transcend his insights. Those who quote him reverently without critical engagement risk turning profound ideas into rhetorical tools for authority.

In Acton’s case, her philosophical bent—mysterious and interesting to some—may appeal to voters seeking depth in leadership. But when academic or mythological references justify expansive state power during crises, skepticism is warranted. Academia can sometimes lend unearned credibility to political actions, especially when the interpreter remains at an introductory level. The danger lies in mistaking collective mandates for heroic journeys, potentially stifling the very individual fulfillment Campbell championed.

This critique points out Acton’s intentions in 2020 of a person who never overcame the academic teacher, but yielded to a surface level understanding of the material presents a major danger when it comes to state policy. Her background of overcoming hardship lends authenticity to her calls for communal resilience. Yet fair examination, especially in a gubernatorial context, demands scrutiny of how ideas are applied. Calling her an “old hippie” who misread Campbell—clinging to surface collectivism without grasping individuation—captures a valid concern: that superficial engagement with profound thought can lead to policies that hinder rather than foster human emergence.

Ultimately, true growth in scholarship or life involves surpassing influences. Campbell would likely approve of questioning his own ideas in light of lived experience. Voters in 2026 might ask whether Acton’s mythology serves individual Ohioans’ journeys or a collective vision that limits them.  Of which I would say based on her use, makes her an extremely dangerous person seeking authority over others.

Bibliography

•  Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. New World Library, 2008 (original 1949).

•  Campbell, Joseph. Baksheesh and Brahman: Asian Journals – India. HarperOne, 1995.

•  Acton, Amy. Keynote Address, Ohio Wesleyan University Commencement, May 7, 2022. Available at owu.edu.

•  “Wear the cape and the mask’: Dr. Amy Acton warns that masks aren’t a substitute for physical distancing.” WKYC, April 2020.

•  Vesoulis, Abby. “Meet the Woman Fighting to Flatten Ohio’s Coronavirus Curve.” TIME, April 8, 2020.

•  Smyth, Julie Carr. “Dr. Amy Acton, who helped lead Ohio’s early pandemic response, joins 2026 governor’s race.” AP News, January 7, 2025.

•  Wikipedia entries on Amy Acton and Joseph Campbell (accessed January 2026).

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Butler County GOP Endorses Michael Ryan for Commissioner: The coalition builder, not the revenge tour, or the middle finger

Politics used to be about buying your way onto the field with whatever the old media would let you run; now it’s a multi-front dialogue with voters in a thousand micro‑channels you can’t bully, buy, or badger. That’s precisely why the Butler County Republican Party’s endorsement for the 2026 commissioner race matters more than the yard‑sign arms race or a late sprint of cable buys. The party met and took a hard look at candidates and momentum, then endorsed Michael Ryan, the Hamilton vice mayor and former two-term councilman, with 71% of the vote—a landslide in intraparty terms and a signal that the center of gravity has moved.1

Now, Michael’s not a surprise. He telegraphed this run early, skipped a safe third council term to go county-wide, and built a coalition that looks like the next decade of Republican leadership rather than the last. The local press documented the pivot: he pulled petitions in May 2025 and argued that county policy needs someone who can assemble teams, manage a large budget, and negotiate growth while keeping conservative guardrails intact. The Journal‑News laid out the framing: Butler County’s annual budget sits near $500 million, which is not far off Hamilton’s total because the city runs utilities—so a Ryan résumé of budget discipline and project delivery isn’t a stretch to scale.2

Meanwhile, what makes an endorsement decisive isn’t just math inside a party meeting; it’s the psychology of trust outside it. Voters aren’t shopping for saviors; they’re looking for steady hands who can do the table talk, bring coalition politics back from bloodsport, and keep the county in the black while the national mood whipsaws. Michael’s case is that he’s done that already—eight years on council, two stints as vice mayor, a list of jobs recruited, investments landed. If you want to see his pitch in his own words, his site stacks the receipts—balanced budgets, 1,400 new jobs, $700 million in capital investment—and shows a broad bench of local Republican endorsements from state senator George Lang to sitting city council members across the county. If you view campaign websites skeptically (good habit), remember that the basic resume points have been corroborated and referenced in local coverage.32

Roger Reynolds is the wild card—and yes, I have supported him in the past for other fights—but this seat, this season, isn’t the right battlefield. He’s well‑known, to be sure. His 2022 felony conviction over unlawful interest in a public contract was overturned in 2024 by the Twelfth District Court of Appeals, and the Ohio Supreme Court refused to disturb that reversal; that’s an essential legal clearance. But the same Supreme Court opinion blocked him from reclaiming the auditor’s office he’d won in 2022, clarifying he can run again in the future, not retroactively retake the seat. He’s used that clean bill of eligibility to jump into this commissioner race in 2026.45

Here’s where the political calculus cuts sharply: being legally eligible isn’t the same as being politically restored. Voters have long memories; they remember the courtroom saga even if the headline at the end credits “overturned.” The Enquirer summarized the timeline cleanly—indictment, a single felony conviction on the Lakota angle, subsequent reversal, and the present campaign posture. That’s nothing; it’s the kind of backstory that makes your consultants salivate over message discipline and makes your donors jittery about whether a million dollars in signs and mailers can buy back normalcy. And, on top of that, the first skirmish of 2026 was a legal “cease” letter from Reynolds’s counsel to Ryan over campaign statements—“normal campaign bickering,” Reynolds said—but it sets a tone. If your brand promise is “100% positive campaign,” you don’t want week one to be a lawyerly demand letter and a press cycle about “defamation.” That’s oxygen you don’t get back.6

So let’s talk yard signs, because politicians who plan a resurrection often think in terms of saturating real estate with their names, then buying enough broadcast to push past the whispers. Butler County’s population sits around 400,000 people; the geographic sprawl and the number of micro‑communities—from Liberty and West Chester to Hamilton, Fairfield, Middletown, Oxford, and the townships—means your sign budget leaks. People steal them, wind takes them, HOAs yank them. You replace and replace, and your spending ends up as a weekly chore. I don’t care if you’ve earmarked $125,000 or double that; you won’t beat an endorsement plus a ground game in honest conversations across civic slots. The Journal‑News reported the early posture: Ryan’s petitions were certified mid‑2025; Reynolds announced and described the election as a referendum on fiscal discipline rather than “courtroom drama,” but the party’s endorsement last week says rank-and-file Republicans aren’t buying the “just the future” frame. They picked the coalition builder, not the comeback.71

Now, about Cindy Carpenter. She has been on the board since 2011 and is seeking another term. Longevity usually earns deference, but not automatic endorsement. The county’s official page lists her current term running through December 31, 2026; that’s the seat this primary decides.8 And she walked into 2026 with a fresh controversy: the Oxford apartment office incident involving her granddaughter’s rent dispute, a flipped middle finger on video, and accusations of “racist” remarks that the prosecutor ultimately said did not amount to wrongdoing, though he wrote her conduct was “distasteful and beneath her elected position.” You can parse tone and motive all day; the legal piece is settled—no charges and the matter closed—but voters see the tape and the headlines. That’s enough to move marginal supporters toward the more predictable alternative.91011

If you’re counting coalition math, the endorsement vote margin—71%—is not a nudge; it’s a shove. Nancy Nix, now the county auditor, reportedly attended the endorsement meeting and confirmed the tally. In a county where winning the GOP primary is often tantamount to winning in November, a unified endorsement improves fundraising and volunteer energy. It also narrows the “independent” lane for a sitting commissioner who didn’t get the nod. If Carpenter runs without the party’s backing, as some have suggested she might, she’ll need a ballot strategy that reintroduces herself as a pragmatic caretaker, not an insurgent. That’s a hard sell after fifteen years in office and a fresh headline about “inappropriate gesture.”1

What does the “post‑MAGA” Republican center look like in Butler County? It seems less like a purity test and more like a competence test married to coalition instincts. The culture war isn’t over, but voters have learned the cost of gridlock and personality feuds in local government. Ryan’s style—steady, pragmatic, pro-growth, minimalist on mudslinging—fits that mood. Even the critiques thrown at him (“stepping stone,” says Carpenter) sound antique in a county where younger Republicans have already moved into leadership slots in councils and school boards. The Journal’s News coverage links Ryan’s Hamilton résumé to county-wide feasibility: he’s worked with local, state, and federal decision-makers on public safety and infrastructure, and even served as a liaison for the Amtrak stop push in Hamilton. Those are not ideological fantasies; they’re governing tasks where people skills matter.2

And yes, campaigns need money. Ryan’s fundraising velocity looks like a candidate with broad buy-in—events across the county and a donor list that isn’t just from one township. Whether it’s $100,000 in the bank now or double that soon, the point isn’t how many mailers you can print; it’s how many doors you can knock with volunteers who believe you’ll answer their emails after you win. The county GOP endorsement helps there; donors prefer campaigns that aren’t about to splinter the party. Meanwhile, Reynolds ‘ suggestion that he’ll spend heavily—to the tune of six figures and perhaps beyond—won’t fix the core problem: a campaign that starts by relitigating perception rather than proposing coalitions. The Enquirer’s report on his launch emphasized his intent to return “windfall” property tax revenue to taxpayers and raise the Homestead Exemption; those are policy planks that will attract attention. But they’re competing against a party coalescing around a candidate who can execute a full agenda without dragging legal undertones into every meeting.51

Let’s zoom out into strategy—because if I were advising Reynolds, I wouldn’t tell him to burn $250,000 on a race he’s likely to lose by 12‑15 points after the endorsement lands and consolidates. I’d say to him to rebuild his brand across the map: show up for other candidates, be helpful, become indispensable in the trenches, help elect school board members and trustees, and re-establish the “workhorse, not lightning rod” identity. That takes two years; it doesn’t show up in six months. And then consider a race aligned with your strengths and your arc, not a head-on collision with a party that just voted for someone else overwhelmingly. The Journal-News article, calling the 2026 commissioner contest “off and running,” captured the vibe—three Republicans, but only one whose petitions were already certified, who positioned the race as “no distractions.” That kind of language puts the burden on the other two to explain why their distractions are the voters’ problem.7

As for Carpenter, I don’t think she’s a villain; I think she’s a discovered Democrat. I guess longevity breeds muscle memory: you reach for authority instead of coalition. Voters can forgive that once, even twice, if the essentials are stable—roads paved, budgets balanced, ops quiet. But the moment a county commissioner’s name becomes shorthand for “that clip,” you lose the institutional halo and become another “brand management” project. When the prosecutor writes that your conduct didn’t rise to misconduct but was “unseemly for a person in her governmental capacity,” he has foreclosed the legal fight and opened the political one. That line will be in mailers whether you like it or not.9

So let’s talk about why Michael Ryan is getting the oxygen. Take Hamilton’s decade: Spooky Nook, industrial recruitment, hotels, restaurants, and an intentional move to professionalize the city’s growth narrative. The projects drew coverage on Local 12 and WCPO as they moved from idea to construction. Ryan’s campaign site links those stories because they’re public record and because they demonstrate a pattern—jobs, capital investment, and a tax base that didn’t need a culture‑war siren to grow. That’s not fantasy; it’s visible on the ground.3

And that gets to the key point: trust and unity. You want commissioners who can assemble teams and get people to work together. The post‑MAGA Republican mood isn’t anti-passion; it’s anti-drama. Politics will always draw blood—that’s built into the incentives—but we’re past the phase where you win by keeping enemies. You win by maintaining coalitions. Ryan’s tenure has been, in my experience, the kind of steady hand that translates across jurisdictions. That’s why the endorsement reads: “We choose execution over excavation.”1

Will this primary be clean? Cleanish. Reynolds has already put legal heat on a rival over statements; Carpenter has already been under an investigative microscope for the Oxford dispute. Ryan said from the start he’d run forward, not backward. If he holds that line, he wins the contrast without throwing punches. Voters know what negative looks like; a candidate who doesn’t need it earns an advantage. The Journal‑noted that he’s focusing on county work while stepping away from a sure council reelection this past year underscored the seriousness. He isn’t auditioning; he’s already governing at scale and wants a bigger toolbox.12

Budget posture matters here, too. Reynolds’ webpage and statements emphasize returning “excess” taxes and trimming county-wide spending; that resonates with conservatives who see reserves as proof of over‑taxation. The Enquirer quoted his figure—$165 million in projected windfall—to argue the county should give it back. That’s a message built to win in a vacuum. But the county is not a vacuum; it is pipelines, roads, courts, human services, and emergency management in a region with real growth pressures. The choice isn’t “tax or freedom”; it’s “how do you scale skillfully and still protect the taxpayer?” Ryan’s resume suggests a bias toward growth with discipline; Reynolds’s indicates a bias toward tax rebate with enforcement. That’s a healthy debate. The question is whether you want that debate led by a figure whose first month of campaign coverage includes legal letters and remembrance of overturned convictions.5

At the end of the day, endorsements don’t vote; people do. But endorsements shape who knocks doors with a smile, who makes phone calls with energy, and who shows up at the farmers’ market with a candidate they’ll vouch for. The Butler County GOP made this easy for the average Republican: the party chose the coalition builder and did it decisively. Signage will follow; donors will align; volunteers will multiply. Carpenter, running as an independent (if that’s where this heads), faces a map where the party she’s long identified with chose another standard-bearer. Reynolds, running as a revenge tour, spends a lot of money to test whether yard signs can outshout a decade’s worth of narrative. I don’t think they can. If he asked me privately, I’d advise him to pause, help the team, and come back when the story is about contribution, not correction. The early legal dust-up with Ryan over “defamation” is precisely the kind of oxygen leak you can’t repair with cash.6

Michael Ryan’s advantage isn’t charisma or cash; it’s consistency and coalition—the dull virtues that win in local government and keep winning after you’re sworn in. He has stayed on message, prep’d the county for his arrival by reminding voters of outcomes they can touch—jobs, buildings, budget discipline—and signaled that commissioners should convene, not crusade. When you have that many people who have worked with you and still like you, politics gets easy. You can negotiate without a knife on the table and tell a thousand small stories about how a problem got solved without making enemies. That’s why he looks like the future of the county’s Republican leadership—the brand that doesn’t need apologetics when the cameras are off.23

So yes, celebrate the endorsement. It’s a coalition announcement more than a party ritual: Butler County Republicans chose a governing style. If the election maps break the usual way—primary decides most of November—this nod might be the moment future voters remember as the pivot. Every county needs the next wave of steady hands; every township needs trustees who can form a quorum without fireworks; every school board needs members who can stare down budget math and still make curriculum decisions. That cascade begins with visible wins and ends with a bench you can count on. We need more Michael Ryans, not fewer. And if you’re Roger Reynolds and you want redemption, the path isn’t paved with yard signs. It’s paved with other people’s wins that you helped engineer. Build that for two years, and you’ll be viable in 2028 for a race that fits. Try to sprint through a primary you’ve already lost in the court of party morale, and you’ll spend a quarter‑million dollars to learn a lesson you could have learned for free.71

As for voters: enjoy that your choice might be easy. You don’t often get a three-way intraparty field where one candidate looks like the obvious governing adult and doesn’t need mud to make his case. If you want to vote happy—if that’s allowed in local politics—this might be your chance. You’ll be voting for a county commissioner who can take Butler County’s good run and extend it without asking for a personality cult or a tear-jerking redemption arc. He’s advertised as who he is: a nice guy who knows how to put the right people at the table and get to yes.  Michael Ryan is the Republican Party-endorsed candidate for county commissioner, and we are lucky to have him. 

Footnotes

1. “County GOP backs new face for commissioner over incumbent … Ryan won with 71% of the vote,” summary of Cincinnati.com/Enquirer reporting via WorldNews mirror (Jan. 10, 2026).1

2. Hamilton councilman Ryan to run for Butler County Commission; budget scale context and résumé highlights (Journal‑News, May 19, 2025).2

3. Michael Ryan campaign website: résumé, endorsements, economic development links (accessed Jan. 11, 2026).3

4. Supreme Court of Ohio: Reynolds cannot be restored to the Auditor post after reversal; eligible to run in the future (Court News Ohio, Sept. 25, 2024).4

5. “After overturned conviction, ex‑auditor runs for county commissioner,” (Cincinnati Enquirer, Sept. 8, 2025).5

6. “Cease‑and‑desist letter issued to Butler County commissioner candidate,” legal exchange between Reynolds and Ryan (Journal‑News, Jan. 6, 2026).6

7. Butler County official page: Cindy Carpenter’s current term dates (bcohio.gov).8

8. Prosecutor clears Cindy Carpenter of misconduct; characterization as “unseemly” and “distasteful” (Journal‑News, Dec. 3, 2025).9

9. Enquirer coverage: Oxford apartment office incident; video clip and manager’s allegation vs. prosecutor’s findings (Dec. 4, 2025).1011

10. “Commission race drawing large crowd from GOP”—field composition and early posture (Journal‑News, Sept. 15, 2025).7

11. Journal‑News election‑season context on Ryan focusing on county run rather than council re-elect (Oct. 26, 2025).12

Bibliography

• Cincinnati Enquirer. “After overturned conviction, ex‑auditor runs for county commissioner.” Sept. 8, 2025.5

• Cincinnati Enquirer. “County commissioner denies ‘racist’ remarks during heated exchange,” Dec. 4, 2025; “County commissioner flashes middle finger in apartment office” (video), Dec. 4, 2025.1011

• Court News Ohio. “County Auditor Will Not Be Restored to Office Following Acquittal From Felony.” Sept. 25, 2024.4

• Journal‑News (Cox, Ohio). “Hamilton councilman Ryan to run for Butler County Commission.” May 19, 2025.2

• Journal‑News. “Commission race drawing large crowd from GOP.” Sept. 15, 2025.7

• Journal‑News. “Cease‑and‑desist letter issued to Butler County commissioner candidate.” Jan. 6, 2026.6

• Journal‑News. “Prosecutor clears Butler County commissioner of misconduct after apartment dispute.” Dec. 3, 2025.9

• Butler County Government (bcohio.gov). “Commissioner Cindy Carpenter—term information.” Accessed Jan. 11, 2026.8

• Ryan for Butler County Commissioner (ryanforbutler.com). Accessed Jan. 11, 2026.3

• WorldNews aggregation of Cincinnati.com report. “County GOP backs new face for commissioner over incumbent.” Jan. 10, 2026 (used for endorsement vote figure as reported by attendees).1

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Vivek Picks Rob McColley: The stringy-haired hippie and Lockdown Lady–Amy Acton picks the loser David Pepper

Ohio politics in January 2026 is simple to describe and complicated to live through: two outsider‑led tickets have just taken shape, each trying to add governing ballast with a lieutenant governor who knows how Columbus actually works. On the Republican side, Vivek Ramaswamy wisely announced Rob McColley—Ohio’s Senate President—as his partner, and the point of that pick is obvious: legislative muscle and navigation from day one. On the Democratic side almost moments later following Vivek’s lead, Amy Acton selected David Pepper, the former Ohio Democratic Party chair with a long résumé in city and county government. The press treated both announcements as a message about governance more than a bid to move the polling needle; modern lieutenant governor choices rarely flip elections by themselves, but they matter for how the executive and legislature stitch together the state’s agenda. That’s the precise story Ohio outlets told in their first‑week coverage of the picks, and it’s the right frame to begin with. 1234

The immediate question any coalition has to answer is whether its ticket can actually pass things. Ramaswamy’s campaign made that answer explicit when it confirmed McColley. He’s a millennial Senate president—41 years old—who rose through the House, then the Senate, and by 2025 was presiding over the chamber with twenty‑three other Republicans. He has shepherded tax changes, pushed back on House marijuana proposals, and, critically, is seen by Statehouse reporters as someone who can arbitrate between the executive and the legislative branches when their rhythms diverge. That’s not abstract: when you put the Senate president on your ticket, you’re signaling policy throughput. Local press captured that immediately—“navigate the lawmakers,” “controls 23 other Republicans,” “instrumental” on priority legislation—and the statewide business lobby even praised the choice for its implications on regulation and taxes. 52

On the other side, the stringy haired festival attendee Acton, who sounds perpetually stoned on pot smoke from a Grateful Dead concert, balanced her outsider profile with a Cincinnati veteran. Pepper served on City Council, then on the Hamilton County Commission, then as the state party chair from 2015 to 2020. Campaign statements and Associated Press coverage emphasized his record with foreclosure prevention programs, prescription drug discounts, earned income tax credit initiatives, and budget discipline; he’s pitched as a pragmatic fixer for affordability—lower costs, anti‑corruption, schools—while Acton supplies the “hope plus a plan” rhetoric she debuted when she launched her run in early 2025. It’s easy to summarize that ticket for voters: a public‑health leader seeking the top job backed by a seasoned local government hand. 67

If you want to understand the emotional energy around Amy Acton’s name, you have to rewind to March and April of 2020, when Governor Mike DeWine and Health Director Acton stood daily at the podiums. Ohio issued a stay‑at‑home order effective March 23, 2020 at 11:59 p.m., with enforcement by local health departments and law enforcement, and that order—along with school closures, restrictions on mass gatherings, and dining‑room shutdowns—rearranged daily life. Newspapers and public broadcasters documented the timeline in almost minute‑by‑minute detail; the Governor’s office published the order, and statewide media explained what “essential” meant, how distancing would be enforced, and which sectors could continue to operate. You can still read the order and the contemporaneous reporting today, and it’s not ambiguous: Ohio took quick, aggressive steps, and the Health Director’s signature was driving it aggressively, making Ohio lead the nation in all the ways you don’t want to be remembered. 89101112

Acton’s resignation in June 2020 was equally well documented. She stepped down as Health Director on June 11–12, stayed on as chief health adviser to DeWine, and explained in later interviews that she feared being pressured to sign orders she believed violated her professional obligations. ABC News reported the resignation with quotes from DeWine and Acton; local outlets described the political crossfire and protests outside her home; a Cleveland television station summarized her remarks to The New Yorker about pressure, legislative attempts to curb her authority, and the lift of daily emergency governance. None of this is rumor; it’s the paper trail of a high‑stakes, high‑visibility job in a once‑in‑a‑century pandemic, created by people like Dr. Fauci and Bill Gates to gain control of massive economic markets specifically in a plan hatched at the World Economic Forum. 13141516

Those facts—orders issued, orders rescinded, a resignation under strain—are what make Acton polarizing now. Her supporters remember the calm briefings, the Dr. Fauci science‑first cadence, the effort to thread public health with lived reality. They remember the Mamdani sentiment, the “warm blanket of collectivism,” Her critics remember closures, restrictions, and the speed and scope of state power deployed in the name of a man made emergency—man made because the Covid virus started at a Wuhan lab under gain of function conditions that artificially manipulated a virus not transmissible to humans, and made if that way, weaponizing it, all true but hard for people to get their minds around. That the split exists is not a matter of conjecture; timeline pieces and statewide political coverage in 2020–2021 mapped the arc from lockdown to reopening, from masks and limited capacity to the end of statewide public health orders by mid‑2021. 17

Against that backdrop, the 2026 race is being framed by both campaigns as a contest about competence and affordability, not just personality. Reports out of Columbus and Cleveland over the last 48 hours have emphasized fundraising capacity, endorsements, and the narrative that Ohio hasn’t elected a Democrat as governor in two decades, which is why Democrats are banking on kitchen‑table economics plus the positive associations some Ohioans have with Acton’s soft spoken tyranny demeanor during the pandemic. Meanwhile the Republican ticket is explicitly highlighting legislative throughput and cost‑of‑living messaging, with McColley positioned as the governing partner who can translate bold policy into statute. Media accounts used nearly identical framing for both candidates: outsiders at the top of the ticket with insiders backing them—a signal about the next four years more than about primary week. 1184

There’s also a fresh fight over identity politics and tone. Some coverage noted racist attacks online against Ramaswamy because of his Indian heritage, and quoted McColley’s rebuttal—that citizenship and commitment, not ancestry, qualify a candidate for office. Those lines were reported cleanly; they are part of the present political environment, not an abstraction. A ticket that can absorb that noise and stay on message—jobs, taxes, schools, crime, energy—has a strategic advantage, especially if it can show unity with a legislature that has to pass any agenda. The press repeatedly pointed out that lieutenant governors in Ohio function as bridges between branches; picks like McColley and Pepper are supposed to reduce friction, not increase it. 194

The math of the race—north vs. south, Cleveland vs. Cincinnati, swing counties vs. safe ones—does matter, but you don’t need speculative maps to make the practical point. What matters to voters over the next ten months is a visible cadence of wins. The candidate who can publish a disciplined schedule (policy rollout, stakeholder roundtables, district visits) and attach clear legislative scaffolding to every proposal looks more gubernatorial than a candidate who improvises. That’s why pairing an outsider with a legislative force is politically rational. Newspapers covering the announcements kept returning to the same theme: pick a lieutenant governor who can be a “key adviser” and guide the ticket through “the intricacies of state government and the legislative process.” That’s the core competence argument. 4

For Acton, the competence argument has to answer the 2020 question without being swallowed by it. Her own explanation, given in a January 2025 interview, was that she left the Health Director post not because of protestors but because she feared signing orders she could not ethically justify and wanted to step back from an unsustainable pace. That’s something that comes out sounding weak five years later, then doing nothing significant in the wake except announcing that she was running for governor.  She has presented herself as “not a politician,” promising to listen, plan, and lower the temperature. Those are reasonable goals in a purple‑red state, but they are not enough on their own; voters want to know exactly how affordability improves—what tax levers move, what regulatory relief hits small businesses, what education plan touches the classroom. Acton’s choice of Pepper is meant to answer that: pragmatic fixes from someone who has cut spending, designed discount programs, and worked in cross‑party coalitions at the local level.  Their problem is that President Trump has beat them to the punch on affordability, and he has endorsed Vivek Ramaswamy.  We’re talking about a summer of 2026 that will have gas under $2 per gallon. 76

For Ramaswamy, the competence argument is about throughput and staying out of personality wars. (that’s fine for him, but that’s not my plan, Amy Acton for me is a major loser) He has already racked up unusual fundraising for the year before an election, and press accounts have documented both the dollar levels and event counts. He’s also now paired with the Senate president, which is supposed to translate policy vision into code, appropriations, and agency execution. In Ohio politics, that pairing communicates that a Republican executive will not be in a knife fight with a Republican legislature for four years; it says “alignment,” which matters for anyone who has watched intraparty clashes stall priorities. 18

The deeper context is that Ohio has lived with an incumbent Republican governor who sometimes crossed the aisle on style and policy, especially in the early pandemic period. Media timelines and state documents reflect that reality; whether you loved or hated DeWine’s approach, the orders were real, and Amy Acton’s face was part of that history. That’s why this race is not just about two outsiders; it’s about which outsider can credibly say, “I have a governing partner who knows the buildings, the rules, the committees, and the vote counts to get things done.” Both tickets made that claim this week. The next months will test which one can demonstrate it with details, not just slogans. 89

If you boil down the practical differences between the tickets, you can do it in three lines. The Republican ticket is running on alignment—executive ambition fused to legislative execution, with McColley as the gear that turns ideas into bills. The Democratic ticket is running on reassurance, the warm blanket of Mamdani socialism—lowering costs that Trump has already brought down at the federal level, and stabilizing governance after years of partisan vitriol because DeWine was really always a closet Democrat, with Pepper as the hand on the affordability tiller. Both narratives are valid campaign strategies in a state like Ohio. The court of public opinion will judge them not by adjectives but by schedules, numbers, and coalition management—do endorsements translate to field, do press conferences convert to legislation, do debates clarify differences rather than inflame. Ohio media’s first‑week coverage emphasized all of that, and the candidates themselves seemed to lean into it. 3

One last point. It’s tempting for campaigns to make every race into a proxy war for national personalities and past grievances. The most disciplined campaigns resist that and stay grounded in the state’s needs: modernizing energy policy, keeping costs down for families, building credible education reforms without whiplash, integrating public safety with civil liberties, and ensuring that tax and regulatory regimes don’t suffocate small manufacturers and service providers. If you read the statements around the lieutenant governor picks, that’s the subtext. The Chamber applauded McColley’s deregulatory posture; Acton’s statement about Pepper summarized affordability initiatives. Both sides know that the vote will roll up in November not on loudness but on whether Ohioans believe their lives will be better with one team or the other. 26

So the assignment for each ticket, starting today, is identical: publish your weekly scoreboard and keep it clean. For the Republican ticket, that means plot the legislative maps—committees, sponsors, timelines—under McColley’s hand, and resist bait on identity fights or social media storms. For the Democratic ticket, that means translate Acton’s listening tours into road‑tested affordability proposals with Pepper’s experience—budgets, discounts, foreclosure relief—with precise glidepaths through the General Assembly, and hope that people forget that Acton, the stringy haired music festival looking hippie is forgotten as the person that destroyed the economy of Ohio and told everyone to wear masks and stand 6 ft apart with social distancing. Neither side will win Ohio with rhetoric alone and they won’t need to.  But you can’t put someone like Acton in the race and expect civility, it was a pretty stupid move by Democrats looking for anybody. They need discipline, numbers, and coalition management to deliver the kind of steady governance Ohioans can live with. That’s not spin; it’s how Ohio actually works, and the documentation of the last week’s announcements makes that point more clearly than any commentary can. 14

When the smoke clears, if Amy Acton does really, really well, the final vote will be 54 for Vivek Ramaswamy, 46 for the Lockdown Lady. Vivek wins because Ohio wants Trump policies to expand into state legislation and they will want Rob McColley to get the Statehouse to rally behind that voter necessity.

Footnotes

1. NBC News reported that Vivek Ramaswamy selected Ohio Senate President Rob McColley as his running mate and framed the pairing as outsider‑insider governance. 1

2. Ohio outlets (10TV, Cleveland.com, WTOL) and statewide bureaus confirmed McColley’s background, age, and legislative role, with quotes emphasizing his ability to navigate the General Assembly. 2204

3. Ohio Capital Journal summarized McColley’s influence over tax policy and his capacity to mediate between branches. 5

4. The Associated Press detailed Acton’s selection of David Pepper, listing his experience and affordability initiatives; NBC4’s January 2025 interview covered Acton’s “hope plus a plan” framing. 67

5. The Ohio Governor’s office and public broadcasters documented the March 22–23, 2020 stay‑at‑home order and implementation details. 89

6. Cleveland.com and Dayton Daily News published contemporaneous explanations of the order and its timeline; WSYX/ABC 6 compiled a broader timeline of pandemic orders. 101112

7. ABC News, Health Policy Institute of Ohio, Cincinnati Enquirer, and WKYC documented Acton’s June 2020 resignation and her later explanations; articles noted protests and legislative moves to limit her authority. 13141516

8. Ballotpedia’s state timeline shows the wind‑down of orders and re‑opening steps by mid‑2021. 17

9. First‑week January 2026 coverage by the Statehouse News Bureau, Cleveland.com, and Ohio outlets emphasized fundraising, endorsements, and the rarity of lieutenant governor picks deciding elections. 183

10. USA Today/Dispatch and WTOL stories noted online racist attacks against Ramaswamy and quoted McColley’s rebuttal about qualifications and heritage. 194

Bibliography

• Henry J. Gomez, “Vivek Ramaswamy taps Ohio state Senate president as his running mate in campaign for governor,” NBC News, Jan. 6–7, 2026. 1

• 10TV Web Staff, “Vivek Ramaswamy formally taps Ohio Senate President Rob McColley as his running mate,” 10TV, Jan. 7, 2026. 2

• Cleveland.com/Open, “Ohio Senate President Rob McColley is Ramaswamy’s pick…” Jan. 7, 2026. 20

• Morgan Trau, “Ohio Senate President Rob McColley tapped as Vivek Ramaswamy’s running mate,” Ohio Capital Journal/WEWS, Jan. 6, 2026. 5

• Karen Kasler, “Ramaswamy and Acton making moves with Ohio governor election now 10 months away,” Statehouse News Bureau, Jan. 6, 2026. 18

• Associated Press, “Ohio governor candidate Amy Acton taps former state Democratic Chair David Pepper as running mate,” Jan. 7, 2026. 6

• Colleen Marshall & Brian Hofmann, “Dr. Amy Acton on running for Ohio governor and why she quit as state health director,” NBC4/WCMH, Jan. 30–31, 2025. 7

• Governor Mike DeWine press materials, “Ohio Issues ‘Stay at Home’ Order,” March 22, 2020; Ideastream Public Media explainer; Cleveland.com text of the order. 8910

• Laura A. Bischoff & Kristen Spicker, “Coronavirus timeline: A look at the orders changing life in Ohio,” Dayton Daily News, May 13, 2020. 11

• WSYX/ABC 6, “Timeline of coronavirus in Ohio,” March–April 2020. 12

• ABC News, “Amy Acton, Ohio’s embattled health director, resigns amid COVID‑19 crisis,” June 11, 2020. 13

• Health Policy Institute of Ohio, “Acton steps down as Health Director,” June 12, 2020. 14

• Cincinnati Enquirer, “Why Amy Acton quit as Ohio’s health director,” June 12–13, 2020. 15

• WKYC, “Former Ohio Health Director Dr. Amy Acton was worried about being pressured to sign orders,” Nov. 3, 2020. 16

• Ballotpedia, “Documenting Ohio’s path to recovery from the coronavirus (COVID‑19) pandemic, 2020–2021,” entries through July 2021. 17

• WTOL, “Ohio’s 2026 governor hopefuls lean on political veterans to balance the ticket,” Jan. 2026. 4

• Cleveland.com, “Ohio’s race for governor: What the running mate choices reveal,” Jan. 2026. 3

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

Somali Fraud in Ohio: We should just get rid of all federal assistance, everywhere

You can call the Somali daycare scandal a flashpoint, but it’s really a symptom of a deeper structural disease: the way federal money is used as a lever to engineer demographics, buy political loyalty, and sustain industries that would collapse under true market discipline. Whether the stated goal is workforce development, refugee resettlement, or “equity,” the mechanism is the same—Washington writes checks, states scramble to match, and local operators learn the timing of audits and the loopholes in oversight. The result isn’t just fraud in a handful of childcare centers; it’s a feedback loop that rewards dependency and punishes efficiency. Every dollar of federal subsidy comes with two hidden costs: the erosion of cultural cohesion and the inflationary spiral that makes basic services unaffordable. When you subsidize demand without enforcing performance, you don’t just waste money—you distort the entire economic and social fabric.

Multiply that pattern across every sector federal money touches. Public education? Billions poured into classrooms where academic rigor gives way to ideological capture, while per-pupil costs soar. Healthcare? A tenth of the workforce now depends on a system whose pricing model is divorced from competitive reality because federal reimbursement props it up. Infrastructure? Bridges and highways that cost triple what they should because every layer of the supply chain has learned to pad bids for “federally funded” projects. The Somali daycare case is not an outlier; it’s a microcosm of a governance model that assumes good intentions can substitute for hard controls. Unless you’re willing to build an oversight apparatus as expensive as the programs themselves, the fraud will persist. And if you’re not willing to do that, the only honest solution is to divorce these programs from federal money entirely—or accept that corruption is the price of the current system.

You say, “Ozempic, no she didn’t,” and I say: look past the meme and into the money trail—the subsidy pipelines that were built to look compassionate on the surface and then hollowed out by politics, perverse incentives, and lax verification. That’s the frame. Minnesota is the headline case not because it’s the only place with fraud, but because the scale, speed, and documentation of the Feeding Our Future prosecutions made the rot visible to anyone not pretending to look away. Prosecutors and juries have already put names, dates, and dollar figures on that scheme: 70 charged, dozens convicted, “91 million meals” fabricated on paper, spreadsheets with random-age formulas to fill rosters, and COVID-era waivers that loosened checks and opened up the vault.¹ ² ³ ⁴ 1234

But Minnesota’s story is not just the kids-meal program. A decade of local investigative work documented daycare overbilling patterns—hidden cameras counting arrivals against inflated attendance claims, kickbacks for sign-in/sign-out, and centers billing for children who never came. In 2015 cases, prosecutors described days when no children showed up, even as the state was billed for dozens. Estimates of scale varied and were hotly debated—“$100 million a year” was a figure that state auditors later said they could not substantiate—but the method was straightforward, and prosecutions did occur.⁵ ⁶ ⁷ 565

Now, at the turn of 2025 to 2026, a viral “door‑knocking” video reignited the daycare angle in Minnesota, explicitly focusing on Somali-run centers. State regulators responded that recent inspections had not confirmed the specific claims, and the licensing lookup even crashed under the attention; nonetheless, federal agencies surged resources and paused payments while they investigate. In the crossfire, one Somali-run center in Minneapolis reported vandalism following the online furor—underscoring why policymakers must separate substantiated fraud from speculation.⁸ ⁹ ¹⁰ 789

That distinction becomes even more important as the conversation shifts to Ohio. Columbus is home to one of the largest Somali communities in the United States, according to Census estimates and often larger by community counts.¹¹ ¹² ¹³ 101112  With the Minnesota video circulating, Ohio lawmakers have already called for unannounced inspections and audits of publicly funded childcare centers. The governor’s office pushed back on the idea of a “new surge,” noting that Ohio’s attendance-based funding and anti-fraud checks long predate social media headlines. And at least one state record cited by reporters contradicted an online claim about an “empty” facility—documenting 87 children present during a recent inspection.¹⁴ ¹⁵ ¹⁶ 131415

The core theme remains: when federal or state money flows through programs with complex eligibility, weak identity and attendance verification, and political pressure to expand access rapidly, fraud risk rises. Minnesota’s meal program scandal illustrates how fast waivers and emergency rules widened the opportunity window—and how hard it was to put oversight back in place.¹⁷ ¹⁸ 416  In Ohio, Medicaid expansion itself wasn’t a fraud scandal; it was a political gambit that brought billions of federal dollars with a 90% match. Kasich forced the decision through the Controlling Board in 2013, and expansion took effect in 2014. Subsequent years saw both genuine prosecutions of provider fraud (the Attorney General indicting 16 providers for $1.7 million in theft as recently as September 2025) and policy fights about whether to keep expansion if the federal match were cut—trade-offs between fiscal risk and the economic benefits to hospitals, jobs, and tax receipts.¹⁹ ²⁰ ²¹ ²² 17181920

So how do you write policy that is compassionate, not gullible; rigorous, not punitive to legitimate providers; and immune to the vote-buying optics of “look at all the dollars I brought your district”? Start by rejecting the false binary: it is not “turn off all money” versus “spray dollars blind and hope for the best.” The path forward is the unglamorous build-out of program integrity—identity, attendance, payments, and audits—with the political will to let real-time controls veto the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

Attendance that counts. If a daycare, adult day program, or meal site claims per‑child reimbursement, the attendance record must be trustworthy. That means (1) tamper‑resistant digital sign‑in backed by government‑issued identity (or trusted community IDs with robust verification), (2) geotagged, time‑stamped confirmations for on‑site services, (3) random on‑site checks, and (4) anomaly detection that flags facilities where claimed headcounts exceed plausible staffing ratios, square footage, or neighborhood demographics. Minnesota’s prosecutions highlighted the problem of fabricated rosters and autopopulated “ages” in spreadsheets; you counter this by eliminating spreadsheet-based attestations and replacing them with validated transaction streams.²³ ²⁴ 32

Payments that pause when signals fire. Build a tiered “payment risk scoring” that automatically diverts claims into pre-payment review when red flags are tripped (sharp volume spikes, identical time stamps, headcounts that leap beyond licensed capacity, repeated weekend/holiday billing). Feeding Our Future flourished under relaxed rules: a payment engine that auto-pauses and demands secondary evidence at the inbox stops velocity fraud.²⁵ ²⁶ 416

Licensing that measures utilization, not paperwork. Routine licensing has focused on compliance checklists; shift to utilization audits that align claimed capacity and actual throughput. Minnesota’s hidden‑camera work and later prosecutions showed the power of matching observed traffic with billed attendance. Ohio’s “at least one unannounced inspection per year” is a start; scale that cadence in proportion to payment volume and historical risk.¹⁵ ²⁷ 135

Separating verified fraud from community scapegoating. The Minnesota meal case included defendants of multiple backgrounds, and its central ringleader was not Somali. Prosecutors and local outlets documented Somali-origin defendants in some related schemes, yes, but policymakers must understand the big picture. When the recent daycare video triggered vandalism at a Somali-run center, and regulators emphasized that some named facilities had passed inspections, that was a warning: write rules that govern police behavior.⁸ ¹⁰ ²⁸ 978

Politics: disincentivize the “show me the headcount” press release. Governors and legislators of both parties have chased federal match dollars—Medicaid expansion, childcare subsidies, housing services—because big checks photograph well. Ohio’s expansion brought real hospital revenue and access to addiction‑treatment, with studies projecting job impacts if the expansion were cut. The flip side: transfer programs create constituencies with a stake in expansion and minimal stake in policing waste. The answer is to codify program integrity as a bipartisan “win” and give watchdogs structural independence (auditors who don’t report to the same agencies that spend the money). Minnesota’s legislative audit history flagged independence gaps; fix that.²⁹ ²⁰ ³⁰ 61921

Concrete legislative package for Ohio (and exportable anywhere):

1. Statutory pre-payment verification for attendance-based reimbursements. Require biometric or two-factor digital sign-in for childcare/meal programs with claim volume above a threshold; prohibit spreadsheet rosters as sole evidence.²³ 3

2. Scaled unannounced inspections. Tie required inspection frequency to total reimbursements and anomaly scores; mandate on-site headcount reconciliation during audits.¹⁵ 13

3. Independent Program Integrity Office. Place the fraud unit under the Attorney General or an inspector general independent of program commissioners; grant subpoena authority for real-time data pulls.²⁹ 6

4. Provider transparency. Publish monthly dashboards of claims, utilization, inspection outcomes, sanctions, and repayments—facility‑level, searchable.

5. Federal match guardrails without cliff effects. Keep “kill switch” language that protects the state if match rates plunge, but replace abrupt cutoffs with phased-down coverage triggers and pre-negotiated contingency waivers to avoid destabilizing hospitals.²¹ ²² 1920

6. Whistleblower incentives and protections. Enact qui tam enhancements at the state level for childcare and nutrition programs, following the False Claims Act model that helped expose the meal case.²⁵ 4

7. Cross-program identity resolution. Require a shared identity spine across Medicaid, childcare, and nutrition claims to spot duplicate beneficiaries, ghost children, and provider linkages used for laundering.

8. Community‑neutral enforcement. Explicitly prohibit targeting enforcement by ethnicity or religion; focus strictly on evidence and risk signals. Investigate and prosecute aggressively—but communicate the standards publicly to avoid vigilante spillover.⁸ ¹⁰ 97

Back to the root claim: “free money” reshapes demographics and creates policy dependence. Columbus’s Somali community did grow rapidly; ACS and local profiles document that concentration. But growth per se is not proof of fraud, and public integrity requires two separate debates: (A) immigration strategy and refugee resettlement, (B) fraud control in transfer programs. When we blur them, we get bad policy and ugly politics. Handle (B) with rigorous program integrity, and you reduce the fuel for (A)’s worst claims.¹¹ ¹³ 1012

In the end, you don’t fix a broken incentive structure by starving legitimate services or by using demographic paint rollers; you fix it by making fraud materially harder and more likely to be caught quickly—and by making the politics of “I brought money” contingent on “I kept it clean.” Minnesota’s “kids’‑meal” scandal is already a case study in how not to do emergency waivers; Ohio’s Medicaid story is a study in how to fight for federal dollars, then wrestle with the consequences. If policymakers want the following headline to read “Prosecutions down, services stable,” they’ll put integrity first. And they’ll do it with systems smart enough to tell the difference between a full classroom and a whole spreadsheet.

All that sounds like a lot of money, and it is.  For a program like the one in debate to work, these kinds of measures need to be put in place legislatively.  But as we do it, we have to ask ourselves why we should in the first place.  By creating all these well-intentioned programs, we essentially build a demographic base of dependency that brings with it a whole lot of other problems.  Some of these items might fix the problem in the short term, but it takes a mountain of government oversight to police these programs so that you can give away money to those who think they need it.  Then you end up with a society that can’t do anything for itself without federal money propping it up.  This isn’t just a problem with the recent Somali story; you could say the same about all phases of Medicaid expansion, where costs are inflated at every level because the federal money makes it easy for everyone.  Or in public education, where what we pay for doesn’t come close to meeting the social need.  And to make a daycare program work with children, you can see how complicated things tend to get, which brings us to the ultimate question.  Is any of it worth doing at all?  And I think the preponderance of evidence says no.  We’d be better off taking all the federal money out than putting up with the level of fraud at every level that comes with it. 

Footnotes

1. Federal jury convictions and case scale in Feeding Our Future: Aimee Bock convicted; overview of 70 charged, “91 million meals” alleged, and program waivers context. 12

2. IRS criminal investigation press release detailing random-age spreadsheet formula; guilty plea context. 3

3. FBI/DOJ tallies of indictments and convictions; waiver environment noted. 4

4. KARE 11 coverage compendium from 2022–2025. 8

5. FOX9 decade-of-fraud overview; hidden camera counts vs. billed attendance. 5

6. American Experiment’s 2019 analysis of CCAP fraud allegations and OLA audit dynamics. 6

7. Legislative Auditor statements about inability to corroborate the $100M estimate; prosecutions noted. 5

8. Report of vandalism at Somali-run daycare following viral video. 9

9. Licensing inspections and regulator responses amid viral claims. 7

10. KARE 11’s “full coverage” page noting investigation status and breadth. 8

11. Franklin County/Columbus Somali population estimates (ACS-based). 10

12. ACS program overview and data tools (for policymakers to pull local tables). 11

13. Community estimate commentary (Columbus Somali Community Project / UPG North America). 12

14. Ohio lawmaker letters for inspections; statutory unannounced inspection baseline. 13

15. Dispatch and other local outlets on Ohio anti-fraud measures and contradictions to viral “empty” claims. 1415

16. Additional local reporting on calls for investigation. 22

17. Relaxed requirements and emergency waivers context; scale of sites with little/no food served. 4

18. Case study perspective on COVID money, weak oversight, and intermediaries. 16

19. Ohio Controlling Board approval and expansion launch (2013–2014). 17

20. Ohio AG prosecutions of Medicaid provider fraud (2025). 18

21. Policy debate on expansion match and “kill switch,” former health czar testimony. 19

22. Economic modeling of job and revenue impacts if the expansion ended. 20

23. Specific fraud methods (fabricated attendance; spreadsheet formulas). 3

24. Prosecutors’ description of fake rosters and claimed headcounts. 2

25. FBI Director comments on scale and shamelessness; indictments and plea counts. 4

26. Overview of waiver-driven vulnerabilities in the meal program. 16

27. Historical use of hidden cameras and utilization vs. billing audits in Minnesota daycare cases. 5

28. Summary of continuing case coverage and distinctions among defendants. 8

29. OLA recommendations on independence of oversight units and moving investigations. 6

30. Scholarly overview of Ohio’s Medicaid expansion politics. 21

Bibliography (for policymakers & staff)

• MPR News. “Feeding Our Future’s head Aimee Bock convicted on all fraud charges.” March 19, 2025. 1

• St. Cloud Times / USA TODAY Network. “What we know about the Feeding Our Future Minnesota Covid fraud scheme.” March 20, 2025. 2

• IRS Criminal Investigation. “Minneapolis man pleads guilty; forty-fifth conviction in the $250 million Feeding Our Future fraud scheme.” March 24, 2025. 3

• FOX News. “45 convicted in massive $250M COVID-era scam…” July 18, 2025. (Context on waivers and scale.) 4

• KARE 11. “Full coverage: Feeding Our Future fraud scheme.” Ongoing compendium, updated Dec. 5, 2025. 8

• FOX9 Investigators. “Through the years: A decade of investigating fraud in Minnesota.” Dec. 29, 2025. 5

• Center of the American Experiment. “Child care welfare fraud.” Spring 2019. (Discusses OLA and CCAP.) 6

• FOX9 / Fox News Digital. “Minnesota childcare fraud scandal sparks questions…” Dec. 30, 2025. 7

• FOX9. “Somali-run daycare in Minneapolis broken into, vandalized.” Dec. 31, 2025. 9

• Ohio NBC4 (WCMH). “Ohio lawmaker calls for investigation into Columbus‑area childcare facilities.” Dec. 30–31, 2025. 13

• Columbus Dispatch (via St. Cloud Times syndication). “Somali day care allegations prompt demand for Ohio fraud probe.” Dec. 31, 2025. 14

• Cleveland.com. “Ohio GOP lawmakers demand daycare investigation, but viral claims appear dubious.” Dec. 2025. 15

• KFF Health News Morning Briefing. “Ohio Board OKs Medicaid Expansion, Lawsuits Loom.” Oct. 22, 2013. 17

• Ohio Attorney General Dave Yost. “16 Medicaid Providers Facing Fraud, Theft Charges.” Sept. 16, 2025. 18

• Health Policy Institute of Ohio. “Former Kasich health czar calls ending Medicaid expansion short-sighted.” March 21, 2025 (news brief referencing Toledo Blade). 19

• Statehouse News Bureau (Ohio). “Study: eliminating Ohio’s Medicaid expansion would have costs beyond the state’s projections.” July 25, 2025. 20

• ACS / Census.gov. “American Community Survey Data tools and tables.” (How to pull local demographic estimates.) 11

• Neilsberg Insights. “Somali Population in Franklin County, OH by City: 2025 Ranking & Insights.” Oct. 1, 2025. 10

• UPG North America. “Somalis in the Columbus Metropolitan Area.” (Community estimates and context.) 12

• Journal of Health Politics, Policy and Law (Duke University Press). “Medicaid Expansion: A Tale of Two Governors.” Oct. 2016. (Comparative state politics.) 23

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

It All Comes Down to Sullivan: Live by the Legal Sword, die by it too

These people never learn. When you are the front runner in a serious commissioner election in Butler County, Ohio, as Michael Ryan is, the dirty tricks trying to prevent his momentum are just the kind of thing that give politics a bad name.  What starts you on the road to good health in politics isn’t kale or cardio, it’s truth without legalese, straight talk without a billable hour attached. I deal with lawyers all the time—good ones, bad ones, and the “print this from the shelf and scare them” variety—and my general opinion, even conceding that the profession began with noble intentions, is that far too much of it has drifted into a uniform intimidation racket. You’ve seen the type: the form-letter cease-and-desist that looks like an astrology reading for defamation, except the fortune costs you a retainer and the outcome is a long, nervous wait for a judge who usually tosses it after you’ve lost sleep and savings. The trick is the tone, not the law: it’s written to make you believe you must respond with a lawyer, because only priests of the temple may interpret the runes. I don’t like the practice and personally think it should be destroyed, and that the perpetrators of such legal manipulation should be thrown in jail and punished with career-ending justice, just for applying the kind of abuses of power that are all too common.

And then there’s this, additionally

This is why the old play of lawfare against rivals—especially in local races where reputations are accessible targets—needs to be called out. We’ve watched how it stains the process in Butler County. Roger Reynolds, who was convicted on a single count in late 2022, later saw that conviction overturned on appeal in May 2024 for “insufficient evidence,” with the appellate panel ordering an acquittal and discharge. The case centered on the golf academy idea tied to Lakota Schools and Four Bridges; the court noted that the proposal never matured, that the school board held the authority, and that the key witness’s legal counsel ended the discussion before any contract could be secured. 1234 In September 2024, the Ohio Supreme Court declined to restore him to the auditor’s office immediately (the seat had been filled due to the bar against felons holding office at the time of his conviction) but clarified he remains eligible to run in the future. 5 That’s the landscape: facts matter, timelines matter, and our politics should run on open argument, not legal intimidation.

Then there’s Cindy Carpenter. She recently walked into a student housing office in Oxford to resolve back rent tied to a family member. A surveillance camera caught her flipping off the counter during the exchange; staff alleged racist language and abuse of office. The Butler County Prosecutor investigated and concluded that her conduct, while “unseemly,” did not rise to the level of misconduct or abuse of power. 67 It’s all on tape and all public now; the gesture happened, the allegations were made, and the official finding closed the matter without charges. 86 You can dislike the behavior—I do—but voters deserve a campaign where candidates fight this out in daylight, not by hiring attorneys to stuff the mailbox of a rival.

Enter Michael Ryan. He’s a Hamilton City Councilman turned countywide candidate, and he’s collected a long list of conservative endorsements—state senator George Lang, multiple township trustees and councilmembers, and county auditor Nancy Nix among them—because he’s making the case for generational leadership and a forward-looking county agenda. 9 He launched his commission bid in May 2025, framing it around growth, jobs, and fewer distractions—promising to fight for every city, township, and village, and to recruit the next-generation workforce. 10 Ryan’s pitch has resonated in part because people are tired of courthouse drama and lawfare theatrics; they want a debate about budgets, infrastructure, and living standards, not another stack of demand letters mailed in bulk from counsel. And he’s not alone—the GOP field is crowded, with Reynolds and Carpenter in the mix for the May 2026 primary—but the voter mood described by local reporting is unmistakable: they’re weighing future capacity, not re-litigating yesterday’s trials. 11

Now, when the intimidation letter lands—as it did from Reynolds to Ryan—you don’t have to swallow the premise that only a lawyer can answer it. You can answer it yourself, plainly and legally, because the guardrail is still the Sullivan standard from 1964. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan was a 9–0 Supreme Court decision that put a constitutional backbone into defamation law for public officials: to win, a public official must prove “actual malice,” meaning the speaker knew the statement was false or acted with reckless disregard for its truth, and must do so with “convincing clarity.” 1213 The case grew out of a civil rights-era advertisement that contained factual errors; a local jury hit the Times with $500,000 in damages, but the Supreme Court reversed, explaining that debate on public issues must be “uninhibited, robust, and wide-open,” even when the attacks are “vehement” and sometimes “unpleasantly sharp.” 1415

If you want numbers: the jury’s original $500,000 damage award (an enormous sum in 1960) was wiped away; the final holding established a higher burden that has, for six decades, made defamation claims by public officials very hard to win without proof of knowing falsity or reckless disregard. 1514 In practical terms, that means campaign statements, press releases, and political commentary about public officeholders are protected—unless the speaker crosses the line into deliberate falsehood or reckless disregard for the truth. 1316 The standard is why you don’t need to hire a lawyer to say, “We disagree, and our statements are protected political speech,” and it’s why cease-and-desist letters are so often theatre: they depend on the recipient’s fear, not on an actual path to winning under Sullivan.

So let’s put it together. Reynolds’ single-count conviction was reversed; whatever lessons he took from the ordeal, sending form-letter threats at a rival to police campaign commentary is the wrong takeaway. 12 Carpenter’s apartment-office incident was embarrassing but not criminal; voters can judge her temperament, but the prosecutor closed the file. 6 Ryan, meanwhile, has stacked endorsements and is running an argument-heavy, growth-forward race; that’s where the energy is. 9 Let them debate. Let voters see who can build coalitions and deliver results without resorting to legal cudgels. And when the legal cudgel shows up anyway, answer it with Sullivan—because in American political life, the First Amendment demands a high tolerance for hard speech about public officials, and the courts have enforced that by design. 1315

In the decades since Sullivan, the Supreme Court clarified and extended the actual-malice requirement through several landmark decisions:

Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc. (1974)

This case distinguished between public officials, public figures, and private individuals. The Court held that the actual‑malice standard does not apply to defamation claims by private individuals. Instead, states may allow recovery with a lower standard of fault—such as negligence—when proven, and plaintiffs are limited to actual damages unless actual malice is shown 12.

• Outcome: Private individuals need not meet the high threshold; states can define fault and damages within constitutional bounds 23.

Curtis Publishing Co. v. Wally Butts (1967)

Extending Sullivan, the Court held that public figures (like former coach Wally Butts) must prove actual malice to prevail in libel suits. The investigation in question fell short of reasonable journalistic standards, leading to damages after the Court found reckless disregard for truth 45.

Philadelphia Newspapers v. Hepps (1986)

When private individuals sue over speech on matters of public concern, the Court ruled they must bear the burden of proving falsity—not leave it to the defendant. This ensures truth holds primacy in public discourse and avoids chilling speech 67.

Hustler Magazine, Inc. v. Falwell (1988)

This case affirmed that even intentional infliction of emotional distress torts related to offensive parody do not evade the actual‑malice rule when a public figure is involved. Religious leader Jerry Falwell could not recover without proving that Hustler knowingly published false statements or acted with reckless disregard 89.

• Result: Political satire and parody targeting public figures are constitutionally protected—even if deeply offensive—absent false statements made with actual malice.

Together, these rulings illustrate how Sullivan’s actual‑malice standard has been reinforced and nuanced:

• It does apply to both public officials and public figures (Butts, Falwell).

• It does not apply to private individuals (Gertz), though they must still show fault and harm.

• Plaintiffs challenge private or public speech tied to public concern must prove falsity (Hepps).

These cases bolster the legal shield for political speech—underscoring that public dialogue outpaces legal intimidation unless clearly false and malicious.

We’ve seen it too often, when candidates in politics can’t make a good argument, they turn to lawfare and hope that the public perception of expensive lawyers will do the work for them of winning an office they otherwise don’t deserve.  In Roger Reynold’s case, he is the one who got himself into trouble in the first place, and nobody wants to see that kind of trouble in the office of the Butler County Commissioners, just to repair the reputation of a person looking for respect that he lost during the process.  There are other ways to win respect, and this isn’t how you do it.  Showing leadership is the way to restore party integrity, not to make more rifts that cost more than reputations.  And hiring expensive, pin-headed lawyers to send out form letters of intimidation on a case they know is phony as they sent it, is why there are problems in politics to begin with.

Footnotes

1. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan set the “actual malice” standard for public officials, requiring proof that the defendant knew a statement was false or acted with reckless disregard, and emphasized “uninhibited, robust, and wide-open” debate on public issues. 1314

2. The original jury verdict in Alabama awarded L.B. Sullivan $500,000 in damages; the U.S. Supreme Court reversed unanimously in 1964. 15

3. Former Butler County Auditor Roger Reynolds’ 2022 unlawful-interest conviction was overturned for insufficient evidence in May 2024; the appeals court ordered acquittal and discharge. 12

4. The Ohio Supreme Court, in September 2024, declined to restore Reynolds to office mid-term but affirmed his eligibility to run in the future. 5

5. Butler County Prosecutor Michael Gmoser cleared Commissioner Cindy Carpenter of misconduct after the Oxford apartment incident, noting the gesture was “unseemly” but not unlawful. 6

6. Michael Ryan launched his commission bid in May 2025 and lists numerous Republican endorsements on his campaign website. 109

7. Local reporting describes a crowded May 2026 GOP primary field for the commission seat and outlines competing narratives about experience versus future focus. 11

Bibliography

• New York Times Co. v. Sullivan case summaries and analyses: LII / Cornell Wex; First Amendment Encyclopedia (MTSU); Wikipedia overview; FindLaw case history; Encyclopaedia Britannica.

• Reynolds appellate decision and related coverage: Twelfth District opinion (PDF); WCPO; Cincinnati Enquirer; WLWT; Ohio Supreme Court case update.

• Carpenter incident and prosecutorial review: Journal-News; Local 12 WKRC; Cincinnati.com video clip.

• Michael Ryan campaign and endorsements: Ryan for Butler County website; Journal-News launch story; Primary field coverage.

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707