When Transparency Takes a Vacation
Amid the swaying palms of Puerto Rico, New York City officials and their growing entourages continue their annual ritual of luxury networking at taxpayer expense. The SOMOS conference, nominally about Hispanic legislative priorities, has devolved into New York’s premier Caribbean junket – where politicians and their staffs strike poolside deals while constituents back home struggle with basic expenses.
The hypocrisy at this year’s gathering is breathtaking. As reported by City & State New York, political consultant Luis Miranda Jr. addressed the assembled politicians about working-class Latinos’ economic anxieties – all while these same officials enjoyed taxpayer-funded beachfront accommodations. The irony of discussing financial hardship from ocean-view hotel rooms seems lost on our public servants, who insist face-to-face meetings require tropical settings in an era of Microsoft Teams and Zoom.
This paradise problem extends far beyond citywide officials and borough presidents. As I previously reported, the New York City Council maintains its own $1.2 million black box that includes overnight travel spending. While Council members regularly attend SOMOS, their murky overnight travel expenses make it impossible to determine how many taxpayer dollars fund these tropical excursions. Their campaign accounts might tell part of the story, but that’s a labyrinth for another day.
Tracking all these taxpayer dollars – whether spent directly through office accounts or indirectly through publicly matched campaign funds – leads into a bureaucratic maze seemingly designed to hide the true cost of paradise from public view.
The Mayor’s Masterclass in Opacity
Mayor Eric Adams sets the gold standard for hiding travel expenses. Since 2022, his office has obscured over half a million dollars through a dizzying maze of classifications – $447,288.47 in “General” travel and $68,409.33 in “Special” travel, whatever those mean. The crown jewel? A whopping $170,125.54 hidden behind “Travel Credit Card Services” while another $238,213.84 vanishes into the black hole of “N/A (Privacy/Security)” designations.
Even specific-looking entries mock transparency: $9,434.66 for “TRAVEL – MOCS 253 BRODWAY,” $70,947.45 to JP Morgan Chase for…well, nothing specified, and $10,342.90 to a mysterious “CNY MAYOR’S OFFICE IMPREST FUND” marked simply as “N/A.” True to form, Adams’ campaign accounts show zero SOMOS-related expenses – at least he’s consistent in keeping the public in the dark.
When the Fiscal Watchdog Goes Dark
The city’s fiscal watchdog seems to need watching himself. In a masterclass of irony, Comptroller Brad Lander’s office has burned through an astonishing $248,061.01 in travel expenses since 2022 – splitting $104,617.21 for “General” travel and $143,443.80 for “Special” travel, as if the distinction matters when both disappear behind privacy shields. While his office bothers to identify a few crumbs – like $582.00 for tax administrators and $950.00 for compliance professionals – the real money vanishes into thin air.
A staggering $75,479.76 of general travel and $74,465.34 of special travel expenses hide behind “N/A (Privacy/Security)” designations, with a stunning $49,526.08 already spent in 2024 (YTD). Even the credit cards play hide-and-seek: $16,072.19 to JP Morgan Chase and $41,397.22 in special travel expenses, all with blank purpose fields.
Yet miraculously, when it comes to campaign spending (which still taps taxpayer money through the city’s generous 8-to-1 matching program), Lander’s recordkeeping crystalizes: $1,922.84 to the Caribe Hilton for “SOMOS” and $500 for a SOMOS reception at Fogo de Chao. So whether directly through his office or indirectly through matched campaign funds, taxpayers are footing the bill for these tropical getaways while essential city services face budget cuts.
Five Boroughs, Five Systems of Opacity
Bronx: Growing Entourages, Growing Questions
Welcome to the Bronx Borough President’s tropical travel club, where Vanessa Gibson’s office treats SOMOS like a luxury package tour. The numbers tell a story of escalating group vacations masquerading as official business: $2,600 for the “2022 Puerto Rico Conference” swelled to $3,300 in 2023 – with $1,200 specifically earmarked for “extra participants” because apparently, bureaucratic beachgoing is better with buddies. Not content with Caribbean jaunts, Gibson’s office dropped $3,450 to send six people to the “2023 Albany Conference & Gala.” And 2024? They’ve already committed $2,025 for another conference, because why let budget constraints interfere with group travel?
Beyond the disclosed junkets, $25,507.66 lurks behind “N/A (Privacy/Security)” designations ($9,000.63 in 2022, growing to $9,991.13 in 2023, with $6,515.90 already hidden in 2024 YTD). Even these obscured expenses can’t hide a pattern of growing entourages and ballooning costs, all at taxpayer expense.
Then comes the potential double-dipping: while spending office funds for conference registration and “extra participants,” her campaign account (remember, fueled by taxpayer-matched funds) simultaneously shows a $6,000 payment to “SOMOS” for “Campaign Consultants” in 2023, plus a cryptic $1,371 to Culver Place Strategies for “Interest Expns.” It seems Gibson has mastered the art of tapping both direct taxpayer funds and publicly-matched campaign dollars for the same tropical networking – because why bill taxpayers once when you can bill them twice?
Brooklyn: A Tale of Two Ledgers
Brooklyn Borough President Antonio Reynoso’s office achieves near-perfect opacity: just $500 in overnight travel expenses, hidden under “N/A (Privacy/Security).” This remarkably low figure for New York’s most populous borough becomes absurd when his campaign records show a single JetBlue Airways ticket to SOMOS costing $566.60 – more than his entire office’s reported travel budget. When one airline ticket exceeds all reported official travel, something doesn’t add up. Though at least the airline ticket proves more transparent than the taxpayer funds.
Manhattan: The Art of the Blanket Order
Manhattan Borough President Mark Levine’s office has perfected bureaucratic camouflage. His modest $2,571.16 in travel expenses hides behind the laughably vague “blanket order” technique: $844.43 to Citibank and $1,726.73 to JP Morgan Chase (YTD), both masquerading under descriptions so meaningless they might as well be written in invisible ink.
Not to be outdone in creative accounting, his campaign account (courtesy of taxpayer matching funds) shows a $400 SOMOS ticket and a puzzling $1,638.92 “Conference hotel” expense at Chicago’s Sheraton Riverwalk. Perhaps Team Levine got lost on their way to Puerto Rico? Or maybe Manhattan’s housing crisis extends to their travel budget, forcing them to seek more affordable accommodations in the Midwest.
From meaningless “blanket orders” to geographically confused hotel stays, the full picture of Levine’s travel spending remains as elusive as affordable housing in his borough. In Manhattan, it seems, both transparency and reasonably priced apartments are luxury items.
Queens: The Vanishing Act
Queens Borough President Donovan Richards presents perhaps the most striking case of vanishing transparency. Unlike his colleagues who took office in 2022, Richards began his term in 2021 with $1,843.08 in “Overnight Travel Exp-Special,” hidden behind privacy designations. Since then? Complete silence. His campaign shows a $750 payment to “SOMOS Puerto Rico Conference” in 2021, then nothing. It’s as if travel expenses simply ceased to exist – though we doubt the beaches of Puerto Rico have lost their appeal.
Staten Island: A Model of Transparency or Thriftiness?
Staten Island Borough President Vito Fossella’s records stand out for their simplicity: zero reported travel expenses since his 2022 inauguration and no SOMOS-related campaign expenditures. While his colleagues rack up Caribbean networking expenses through various funding channels, Fossella’s complete absence of travel spending presents a refreshing possibility.
Perhaps Staten Island has genuinely embraced fiscal responsibility and modern technology, discovering what other borough presidents seem to have forgotten – that effective governance doesn’t require oceanfront views. In an era of virtual meetings and budget constraints, Fossella’s apparent preference for Zoom over San Juan might just be setting an example worth following.
The Exception That Proves the Rule
While other officials bury their SOMOS expenses in a maze of bureaucratic black holes, Public Advocate Jumaane Williams’ office at least shows us the price tag for these taxpayer-funded beach sessions: $1,628.69 for “Overnight Travel Expenses for SOMOS Puerto Rico” in 2022 and $1,063.00 for “SOMOS Conference” in 2023. That’s over $2,600 in Caribbean networking that could have been a Zoom call.
Yet even this flash of transparency quickly dims when examining his office’s total travel spending of $36,796.25, with $10,472.28 already burned through in 2024 (YTD). Like his colleagues, Williams succumbs to the siren song of opacity, with $12,875.13 to JP Morgan Chase lacking any stated purpose ($6,770.07 in 2024 YTD alone), $12,442.98 conveniently marked “N/A (Privacy/Security)” ($3,583.07 in 2024 YTD), and various mystery expenses labeled simply “N/A.”
So while Williams earns points for showing us some SOMOS receipts, two-thirds of his travel budget still vanishes behind the same privacy shields used by his peers. The Public Advocate’s office proves that even when officials try transparency, the system’s allergic reaction to accountability ultimately prevails.
Beyond the Beach
This isn’t just about tracking Caribbean junkets – it’s about a system perfectly designed to hide how officials spend our money. Through a Byzantine maze of arbitrary “General” versus “Special” travel classifications, fragmented payment methods, convenient privacy shields, and the ability to tap both office and campaign accounts (remember those taxpayer matching funds!), our public servants have mastered the art of vacation accounting.
The result? Basic questions about public spending vanish into the tropical sunset while essential city services face cuts. Whether it’s the Bronx BP’s growing entourage, the Comptroller’s mysteriously opaque watchdog office, or Brooklyn’s mathematical impossibilities, one thing remains clear: in 2024, when video conferencing is standard and constituents struggle with basic expenses, we’re still funding beachfront “networking” through multiple channels.
Until the city demands standardized reporting and eliminates these arbitrary privacy shields, taxpayers will never know the true cost of these political paradise getaways. Perhaps it’s time to remind our public servants that Zoom works just fine without ocean views – and that transparency shouldn’t take a permanent vacation.
Note: All data is sourced from Checkbook NYC and NYC Campaign Finance filings.
Written by Sam Antar
© 2024 Sam Antar. All rights reserved.