Los Angeles will spend roughly $320 million this year settling lawsuits — from police shootings to sidewalk injuries — without a single trial or moment of public scrutiny. City Hall handles it all behind closed doors. Councilmembers vote in secret, the city attorney announces the amounts after the fact, and by the time the public hears about it, the checks are already in the mail.
It’s become routine government choreography: the city withholds case names, denies public comment, votes, and then quietly “notes and files” the outcome so it never appears on a published agenda. Technically legal, but unmistakably wrong. The process erases the very transparency that California’s Brown Act was written to guarantee.
Meanwhile, the numbers keep swelling. Rebecca Ellis of the Los Angeles Times recently reported that the county approved a $4 billion settlement to resolve claims of child abuse in foster care and juvenile halls — the largest such payout in U.S. history. Allegations of fraud and mass-filed claims by high-volume downtown law firms are already surfacing. When paperwork replaces proof, taxpayers lose twice: once to fraud and again to secrecy.
Los Angeles’ liability culture feeds on both. Downtown legal mills — some accused of paying people to sue — churn thousands of claims into quick payouts. LAPD alone burned through $107 million last quarter on excessive-force, crash, and negligence cases. These settlements never face a courtroom, only a closed-session rubber stamp from Council President Marqueece Harris-Dawson and city attorney deputies sworn to silence. City clerk Patrice Lattimore records the vote, files the memo, and the money vanishes from public view.
Across the street, Los Angeles County does at least one thing right: it lets taxpayers speak before the vote. Supervisors still hide behind lawyers, but they recognize that public comment is not a privilege — it’s the law. The city of L.A., by contrast, runs its litigation docket like a private corporation, shielding information until disclosure no longer matters.
Santa Monica learned what that silence costs. The city has paid more than $229 million so far to victims of former youth-program employee Eric Uller, who molested over 200 children while warnings piled up. Another 180 claims remain. One predator, one cover-up, and an entire city’s budget buckles.
The Brown Act’s spirit is simple: daylight before the gavel. Cases involving public money must be noticed, discussed, and voted on in open session whenever secrecy isn’t essential to strategy. Yet Los Angeles treats “efficiency” as an exemption. Efficiency isn’t accountability; it’s control. And control breeds waste.
City Hall’s secrecy has real fiscal consequences. Even with Mayor Karen Bass juggling union raises and layoffs, the city faces a $1.2 billion shortfall. Settlement costs are eating core services. But instead of reforming the system, officials keep feeding it — batching claims, meeting in private, calling it prudent.
There’s a better model, and it starts this week in Long Beach, where the League of California Cities is holding its annual conference for city attorneys, managers, and clerks. Smaller cities should study Los Angeles closely — and then do the opposite. Post every proposed settlement online the moment it’s announced. Provide a short summary: what happened, who’s responsible, and how much it costs. Give the public 72 hours to comment before any vote. Sunlight is cheaper than secrecy.
Los Angeles once called this kind of disclosure impossible until I proved otherwise. In 2019 I won a Brown Act case forcing the city to reveal more about its closed-session decisions. Five years later, the culture of concealment is back. It’s time for the League’s reform-minded cities to set a new standard.
Because when paperwork entombs the truth, the crime isn’t just fraud — it’s betrayal. Don’t let Los Angeles’ secrets follow you home.
Eric Preven is a civic watchdog who won a Brown Act lawsuit against Los Angeles in 2019.