Category Archives: Ethics

Defying the odds: Documenting favoritism in city golf reservations

Yes, i’t ancient history. But it’s still interesting. I had forgotten about this little report done back in 1989, which used city records to document obvious favoritism in the assignment of starting times at Honolulu’s municipal golf courses. I just ran across it while browsing through document I scanned and archived a number of years ago. It’s an example of how public records can reveal patterns of favoritism and corruption that aren’t easily swept away by stock official denials.

I didn’t become a newspaper reporter for several more years, but this was part of my education that made it possible to transition to investigative reporting.

At the time, I was on the staff of then-Honolulu City Council Member Neil Abercrombie. We had heard complaints about rigging of the reservation system used for assigning start times at Honolulu’s municipal golf courses. I don’t remember how we started on this analysis, but we were able to obtain copies of the reservation forms for a two-month period, June-July 1989.

What we found was pretty startling. There was a mad rush every morning for tee times, which had to be made by a telephone system that supposedly chose a single call at random from every 50 calls received, which was then forwarded to a cleark who would assign an available tee time.

The Ala Wai golf course, the most popular city course at the time, received a total of 177,876 calls during one week we looked at in detail. Of those, only 492 were completed and presumably assigned tee times. Less that one-third of one percent of calls were successful in obtaining reservations.

Here’s how the report described the process.

In order to play on a municipal golf course, it is necessary to either reserve a starting time in advance through the City’s “Dial-a-Time” telephone
reservation system or appear in person and sign up on a waiting list for openings.

Current golf course rules provide that “reservations for starting times at a golf course must be made through the Dial-a-Time System.”) Reservations
are taken one week in advance, beginning at 6:30 AM. Due to the heavy volume of calls, all incoming calls are routed through a central switching
system at Hawaiian Telephone in batches of 50. A single call is selected at random by the telephone computer from within each batch and is forwarded to a reservation clerk at the golf course, while the other 49 calls are terminated. This process continues until the available time slots are filled.

Thousands of calls are made to the telephone reservation system each morning, but only a relative few people are actually able to get through and
make a reservation. An actual count of calls to the Ala Wai Golf Course on April 10, 1986 found that 29,627 calls were attempted during the one hour
period between 6-7 AM. Since the reservation lines do not open until 6:30 AM, most calls presumably came in the 30-minutes between 6:30-7:00 AM.

Of the total number of calls for reservations at the Ala Wai golf course, only 75-just two-tenths of one percent-were completed. For the full week of
April 8-14, 1986, a total of 177,876 calls were made to Ala Wai and only 492 were completed.

The odds against getting through for a reservation are clearly substantial. More important, at least for this analysis, is that the chance of getting through early enough to obtain a prime morning starting time are even greater. Figure 1 illustrates the formidable odds that are arrayed against a golfer seeking reservations through the Dial-a-Time system. Only a very few of the thousands o f daily calls actually get through for reservations, and only a fraction of these are able to get early morning times. Yet each of the groups of golfers described below managed to claim morning reservations on a regular basis, a feat that clearly-as illustrated in Figure 1-defies the odds.

Screenshot

We also stumbled over a policy that allowed city officials to bypass the cumbersome reservation system and request starting times directly from the golf courses. It had ostensibly been approved for use by members of the mayor’s cabinet, but we found it had been used by other city officials, as well as by the mayor’s wife.

According to the report: “Administrators in various departments accounted for the majority of the special reservations. In addition, a dozen reservations were made in Mrs. Fasi’s name during June and July, all but one at the Pali Golf Course.”

What I didn’t recall was that Councilmember Abercrombie requested a legal opinion on the legality of this practice, which found such preferential treatment violated a section of the City Charter prohibiting elected or appointed city officials, or employees, from getting or granting “special consideration, treatment, advantage, privilege or exemption to themselves or any person beyond that which is available to every other person.”

The report made front page news in the Honolulu Advertiser, which displayed this graphic along with a story about the report.

Screenshot

You can read the full report below.

Fat Boy’s defense was no excuse

I’m glad my longtime friend, Jim Lindblad, stepped up to put in a good word for Tom “Fat Boy” Okuda in a comment on a week ago.

Jim was in a position to know the man personally, and his observations are well written, on point, and worth sharing.

He captures what many people expressed at the time.

I’ve read your posts on Tom Okuda with interest. You’ve got a gift for digging up and telling these slices of Hawai‘i’s “colorful history,” and I respect the work you put in.

I knew Tom personally. Whatever one may say about events in the mid-80s, he was also a man who cared deeply about the people around him and about the institution he served. He’s gone now, and can’t give his own account.

When he passed, he was working on a book he titled Killed by Friendly Fire. That tells you something about how he saw his own story — and it’s a story that, unfortunately, he never got to finish.

I’m not here to relitigate every detail. My point is that when someone’s not here to respond, the way we frame their life matters. Complex times, complicated personalities — and more than one version of the truth.

—James Waldron Lindblad

Honolulu Star-Bulletin photo

Unlike Jim, I didn’t know Fat Boy, but I have no doubt that Jim’s recollection is accurate.

But, in the end, it didn’t matter. Nice guy or not, the lobbying system that Okuda developed could not survive once it was examined in the context of laws and ethics codes that now governed the use and abuse of the position, authority, and power of public officials.

Okuda’s “I was just following orders” defense just never gain traction, and rightfully so.

But that’s not the end of the story. The late Honolulu Advertiser political reporter and editor, Jerry Burris, who covered Hawaii politics and government for decades, wrote what I consider the best end note on Okuda’s career shortly after his death in 2001.

The passing of former state judiciary official Tom “Fat Boy” Okuda last week deserved more attention that it received.

At one time Okuda was a power within the Democratic Party and an insider’s insider who could make or break political careers or reputations.

The brief obituaries noted that Okuda’s career ended when he was convicted of 13 misdemeanor counts of fixing traffic tickets. That’s like saying Richard Nixon’s career ended because he was involved in a minor office burglary.

In many ways Okuda ended up being the fall guy for an operation that involved the entire political system, including judges, lawmakers, insider business leaders and others. While he contributed mightily to his own downfall, he was also the product of a system that virtually demanded the rise of a person with his political skills.

“Fat Boy” — a nickname he bestowed on himself — had a comic public persona. He would portray himself as a humble nobody, just beavering away in the bureaucracy and always willing to lend a helpful backstage hand.

In fact, at his peak he was one of the state’s most influential political figures. His legions of courthouse “volunteers” were an invaluable grassroots army for favored politicians. His ability to get traffic tickets “taken care of” created a multitude of grateful admirers, both within politics and in the general community.

But what must be remembered is that it was the system that created “Fat Boy,” not Tom Okuda.

I largely agree with Burris’ take on this, but not completely.

The system may have given Okuda his start and offered general blessings of his subsequent actions, but Okuda himself proved to be a virtuoso performer with his self-deferential local-boy schtick, becoming alarmingly effective at wielding of political power and personal influence while, in the process, violated innumerable laws, rules, and norms.

The question of “nice guy or not” was really irrelevant to judging the system he had created, except for those who were so far into the trees that they could no longer even envision the nature of the forest.

I’m still trying to work my way towards better understanding of that period, and with luck I’ll take another shot at it tomorrow.

Another bit of Hawaii’s “colorful history”

It was a surprise to wander over to Civil Beat this morning, one of my first stops online these days, and see an old photo of myself blazoned across the top of this week’s Sunshine Blog post (“The Sunshine Blog: The Ghost Of Fat Boy Okuda”).

In the photo, I’m holding a copy of the Honolulu Star-Bulletin of August 14, 1985, announcing that the State Ethics Commission was initiating an investigation into lobbying activities of the state Judiciary. At the time, I was state director of Common Cause/Hawaii, and we had issued a report calling out the courts’ lobbying activities as likely illegal.

The Sunshine Blog commented:

It turns out that the issuing of gold-shield badges to non-law enforcement officers has quite a colorful history in the islands and, despite the scandal and corruption associated with the practice in years gone by, continues today.”

It seems the Sunshine Blog stumbled over this long-ago scandal when it began questioning the practice of issuing offical-looking badges to members of certain commissions. The practice harkens back to the good old days of “Hui o’Kokua,” the lobbying organization created inside the state judiciary sometime in the late 1970s or early 1980s to lobby for its budget. The organization, led by the deputy administrator of the courts, Tom “Fat Boy” Okuda, built strong personal and political relationships with key legislators by providing campaign support including catering for their fundraisers, administratively dismissing traffic citations on request, and passing out sheriff’s badges to a group of legislators, allowing them to carry firearms and park for free at the airport and other venues, among other benefits.

Anyway, do check out today’s Sunshine Blog, which reprises much of the scandal and brings it up to date.

But it only tells part of the story. I’ll be back later to tackle more of the tale.

Let’s Not Confuse Lobbying With Influence-Peddling

The headline of Civil Beat’s Sunshine Blog this week told one story: “Influence Peddling By The Numbers“.

But the numbers actually reported were newly released statistics about lobbying — a very different story, in my view.

The two topics are intimately related, but they are not the same, and it seems to me that the failure to distinguish “influence peddling” from “lobbying” is a mistake, creating confusion for those who care about how our democracy actually works.

Let me explain.

Lobbying is a protected constitutional right. It’s part of the First Amendment, alongside freedom of speech, the press, and religion — protecting our right “to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

In plain terms, you have the right to speak up, organize, demonstrate, and advocate for the laws and policies you believe in — whether you’re an environmental group, a business association, a labor union, or just a group of concerned neighbors.

Individuals, groups, companies, and unions all have the right to advocate for their interests. That’s political influence — and it’s how democracy works.

Political influence isn’t inherently bad. Voters have it. Organized communities have it. Elected officials have it. And yes, people and organizations with experience, information, or resources can use that influence to help shape laws. That’s not a scandal — that’s the process.

Lobbying isn’t inherently shady. It’s one of the ways people make sure their voices are heard. Of course, it must be transparent and well-regulated — which is why we have ethics laws, conflict-of-interest rules, and requirements for lobbyist registration and disclosure. Done properly, lobbying is a necessary part of how our political system works.

Many years ago, I served as director and registered lobbyist for the public interest group Common Cause in Hawaii, working to represent our members’ commitment to open and honest government at the State Capitol.

I was a neophyte in the legislative process — more accustomed to energizing public opinion than trying to change the minds of sometimes hostile or disinterested legislators. The process itself was far from self-evident. But in my on-the-job training, I found that professional lobbyists were often generous with their advice, insights, and tips for making sense of the legislative maze.

Hours spent “talking story” on the capitol building railing with other lobbyists taught me more than any university degree. They understood the nuances of politics and power, and shared lessons that proved invaluable.

But influence-peddling? That’s something else entirely.

Influence-peddling is when someone tries to sell access or power, not to advance a public cause, but for private gain. It’s when a former official gets paid because of their connections inside government, or when someone with political access to an elected or appointed official, a family member, old school friend, or business associate, offers to “fix” something behind closed doors or for a price.

The Hawai‘i State Ethics Commission said it clearly in a 1999 newsletter: influence-peddling happens when insiders are “compensated to assist individuals or businesses in obtaining special benefits or treatment.” That’s not lobbying. That’s corruption.

Taken to the extreme, influence peddling can lead to bribery and become a criminal matter.

That’s what happened when former Senate Majority Leader Kalani English and Rep. Ty Cullen took bribes — luxury travel, poker chips, cash — from businessman Milton Choy in exchange for influencing legislation. It wasn’t just unethical — it was illegal. Choy and both legislators were convicted and went to prison.

To conflate legal lobbying with these kinds of abuses — as the Civil Beat column does — isn’t just misleading. It risks turning the public against all forms of advocacy and civic participation. That’s not a recipe for reform; it’s a recipe for cynicism.

We should be fighting to root out corruption — not stigmatize the act of speaking up.

We need strong lobbying disclosure laws, strict ethics rules, and real enforcement. Civil Beat’s review of lobbying statistics doesn’t necessarily show influence-peddling, but it does highlight concentrations of lobbying power — and that could signal potential misuse. These numbers can serve as red flags — starting points for watchdog agencies, activists, investigative journalists, and political challengers looking to uncover real evidence of corruption.

But we also need to defend the right of individuals and organizations — regardless of their cause — to speak to their government openly and without fear of being tarred with the brush of scandal.

Reform starts with clarity. Let’s be clear: lobbying is a right. Influence-peddling is a problem. And mistaking one for the other won’t help us fix what’s broken.