Hark! The Herald's Angels Spin.

My hot take on the Miami Herald's hot take.

In case you missed it, the Miami Herald ran an article by Tess Riski over the weekend that raised eyebrows across Coral Gables. The piece, prominently featured just below the fold on Monday's print edition, asked whether Mayor Lago and Vice Mayor Anderson had kept their promise to donate their controversial salary increases to charity.

What struck me wasn't just the content of the article, but the peculiar editorial choices behind it. With the Coral Gables elections just weeks away and the commission salary scandal still fresh in residents' minds, why focus on this particularly odd angle?

This question didn't just come and go for me. It lingered, pestered, and eventually infiltrated my dreams. Last night, I found myself a fly on the wall during what must have been the pitch meeting for this doozy of an article. Of course, dreams fade quickly upon waking, but I managed to jot down the conversation before it slipped away entirely:

Editor: Ok, Tess, the Coral Gables elections are mere weeks away, what are some of the big stories you’ve got cooking for us?

Riski: Well, boss, I’m glad you asked, because I don’t just have a story, I have the story.

Editor: Ooh, exciting. Tell me more.

Riski: Ok, so obviously you know about the big pay raises three of the commissioners gave themselves…

Editor: Yes, of course.

Riski: And you know how the mayor and vice mayor aggressively opposed those raises, particularly the fact that they were quietly inserted in the city’s final budget that almost no one reads instead of being pulled and brought before the public for a transparent and thorough discussion?

Editor: I do.

Riski: Right, and you know how the three commissioners responsible for the raises almost immediately turned around and bought themselves fancy new luxury items like Louis Vuitton purses and Mercedes and Maseratis?

Editor: Yup.

Riski: Great, and you know how those three commissioners initially refused to take responsibility for furtively sticking those raises in the budget only to then come up with a series of contradictory excuses as to why they did? And you know how, to this day, none of them has admitted who actually initiated the whole thing? And you know how all of this really upset the vast majority of Gables residents, like to the point where it’s widely considered the single defining issue of the upcoming election and is likely to result in the ruling coalition losing control of the commission?

Editor: Yes, I’m aware of all this! So good! So newsworthy!

Riski: Agreed! Which is why I’m going to downplay pretty much all of that.

Editor: Brillia…wait, what?

Riski: Yeah, I thought I’d really turn this one on its ear. Really subvert expectations.

Editor: Okaayyyy…

Riski: Yeah, I thought I'd redirect the focus onto the mayor and vice mayor, and whether they can prove they actually donated their excess compensation to charity like they promised.

Editor: Ummm….

Riski: I mean, if it bleeds it leads, right?

Editor: That makes no sense, but whatever. I guess I’m just not seeing your vision here. Was donating the difference in their salaries to charity something they were required to do by law? Was it tied to the legislation somehow?

Riski: No, not at all. It was actually just something that both the mayor and vice mayor said they would do after their attempt to give their raises, and only their raises, back to the city was defeated by the other three. It wasn’t binding or materially relevant to the legislation in any way. It’s literally just something they said.

Editor: Which is why you want to make it the centerpiece of your story?

Riski: Exactly! I really like the idea of egregiously downplaying the many obvious and intriguing angles of one of the biggest political controversies to come out of the Gables in decades and instead frame my piece around something virtually no one cares about. Also, I really like stories that imply wrongdoing under the guise of simply ‘asking questions.’

Editor: And how do you plan on determining whether they donated their excess salaries to charity?

Riski: Easy, I’ll just ask them for receipts. In fact, I’ve already sent multiple emails to Lago and Anderson demanding detailed supporting documentation of their philanthropic activity.

Editor: I see. But isn't that crossing a line? Asking anyone, public figure or not, to provide receipts for their charitable giving seems intrusive. Have you considered that these commissioners likely support multiple organizations, and revealing specific donation amounts could create awkward comparisons between charities? Many donors choose to remain anonymous for perfectly legitimate reasons like privacy, humility, avoiding preferential treatment. Isn't demanding this documentation a bit... excessive?

Riski: No, and frankly that all sounds like ‘rich people problems’ to me.

Editor: Well did you at least ask the other commissioners for a detailed accounting of their charitable contributions?

Riski: No, because they weren’t the ones who said they would donate their raises to charity.

Editor: Right, so once again it was merely something the other two said. A kind of unbinding commitment made in passing. It wasn’t a requirement or an obligation or a stipulation?

Riski: Correct.

Editor: And you can’t prove that they didn’t donate the money, especially since money is fungible and both of these individuals regularly give to charitable causes each and every year. I mean, isn’t Lago always sponsoring various high-priced galas? Didn’t he just pay for the installation of that F.P. Journe clock on Miracle Mile? Didn’t he buy a table for that newly minted LEAF first-responder organization at their Biltmore luncheon? Doesn’t he raise like six-figures for La Liga Contra El Cancer and other causes every winter through his Mayor’s Ball?

Riski: Yes, but did he donate the money he received from his raise specifically?

Editor: Yeah, you see, I’m really not sure you understand what ‘fungible’ means.

Riski: Well, I understand what ‘promise’ means, and I think if public servants make promises, they should have to keep them or else be held accountable.

Editor: Ok, but surely the other three have made ‘promises’ of their own throughout their respective tenures, right?

Riski: I suppose. I mean, they’re politicians after all. But, honestly, I wouldn’t really know either way. I really don’t pay that much attention to the other three.

Editor: I can tell.

Riski: Besides, nonprofits are a red-hot topic in the Gables these days. People are really interested in knowing more about members of the commission and their relationships to nonprofits and what, if anything, they have to do with the money flowing in and out of them.

Editor: Really? Why do you think that is?

Riski: No clue.

Editor: Well, could it have something to do with recent revelations regarding that Menendez fellow and his nonprofit? The one that is on the deed to the city’s Youth Center? The one that lost its 501(c)3 status because it stopped filing tax returns years ago?

Riski: Those are all unsubstantiated rumors peddled by an anonymous blogger.

Editor: But isn’t it all supported by easily obtainable evidence located in the public record?

Riski: Doesn’t matter. Anonymous.

Editor: But you could look into it yourself right?

Riski: A) No time for that. B) I’m a journalist and that’s not what we do. C) That's not really the angle that Ari…I mean that I’m going for here.

Editor: Ok, fine, whatever, let’s just move on. Do you maybe have other stories in mind? Aren’t there other topics of particular importance to the public?

Riski: Like what?

Editor: I don’t know, like development maybe?

Riski: Ah, yes, development! We’ve written extensively on that, particularly on Lago and Anderson’s ties to developers. In fact, the amount of political donations that Lago receives from developers has been kind of a running theme over the years. Remember when that one developer, Sergio Pino, committed suicide in his home last year and apropos of nothing we managed to work in mention of how Pino once donated a few thousand dollars to Lago’s campaign?

Editor: Yeah, about that, didn’t Pino donate just as much if not more money to Menendez’s campaign? Didn’t we inexplicably omit that?

Riski: We did. What’s your point?

Editor: Never mind. What about this bombshell about Kirk selling several homes he owned in the Crafts Section, including his deceased mother’s house, to a developer for a massive windfall? And what about his supposedly getting his son a job with a major developer in the Gables? Doesn’t that deserve a little attention, especially in light of how Kirk has relentlessly attacked Lago for his ties to developers?

Riski: All reported by that same anonymous blogger, therefore fake news. Look this conversation is starting to drag on and there’s this Herald writers’ union meeting on workplace discrimination that I was invited to…

Editor: You know, on second thought Tess, I’m sold. Sounds like Pulitzer material to me. Just…just please leave.

Tsk tsk, Tess

If the imaginary exchange above strikes you as outlandish, then I would submit to you that it’s no more outlandish than the notion that Riski’s article was an exercise in honest, competent, and well-intentioned journalism. In my estimation, what Riski and the Herald did here is kind of like if during Watergate, the Washington Post had devoted their front page to investigating whether Deep Throat really was on his high school’s varsity wrestling team as claimed, while treating other plot points such as presidential conspiracy, illegal surveillance, and obstruction of justice as a mere footnotes.

Of course, defenders might argue that Riski's article is more comprehensive than the headline suggests, with significant portions devoted to background and context. If so, this only underscores the manipulation at work. If the article's primary purpose is to recap the broader controversy, it should be framed as such. The people at the Herald aren’t stupid, they understand what an attention hierarchy is, and how while almost everyone will read a headline, far fewer will read even a portion of the article, while only a small handful will read the whole thing. Shoving important context that addresses the headline’s intentionally seductive rhetorical question way down in the umpteenth paragraph of an article is hardly indicative of solid journalism. It is, however, indicative of solid propaganda.

But who are we kidding? The article wasn't that comprehensive, nor did it abandon its thesis halfway through. The question of whether Lago and Anderson supposedly broke their joint pledge to donate their raises to charity was clearly the thrust of the piece. Which brings me to what is perhaps Riski's strongest, though still unconvincing, defense: that she was merely trying to put a fresh and interesting angle on a story that had grown stale. After all, the raises haven't exactly been lacking attention over the past two years. The desire to avoid a tedious rehash is understandable.

Nevertheless, Riski’s audacious attempt to reverse the moral polarity on the salary scandal was ill-advised, to say the least. No reasonable and intelligent human being was ever going to buy the idea that, gee you know, Lago and Anderson are the real bad guys here. As far as plot twists go, this one undoubtedly fell flat.

It was also entirely unnecessary. If Riski wanted to put a new and interesting spin on a tired story, all she had to do was ask—literally. When reaching out to people not named Fernandez, Menendez, or Castro, she could have worked harder to hide her enmity. Instead of treating anyone aligned with KFC as an ally, while treating anyone aligned with Lago as an enemy, she could have treated them all with professional courtesy. She could have inquired more, interrogated less, and approached her reporting with a measure of good faith. Had she done any of this, she probably would have been provided with everything she needed to breathe new life into old stories, starting with this:

This is what you might call a ‘smoking gun.’ What is it, exactly? It’s a handwritten note from Kirk to the former city manager outlining the raises he claims he didn’t specifically ask for (the small figures on the left and right extremes are Peter Iglesias’ notes). Base salaries, car allowances, other allowances, office budgets—it’s all spelled out, in Kirk’s handwriting, like a kid’s Christmas list to Santa.

But let’s not overlook the pièce de résistance, the most damning yet totally unsurprising element of all, the most tell-me-you-violated-Sunshine-without-telling-me-you-violated-Sunshine admission of all time: the instruction at the bottom to “Call Commissioner Fernandez.” Underlining the word ‘call’ for added emphasis was a really nice touch, don’t you think? As though to say “don’t email, don’t text, don’t put any of this in writing. Oh, and don’t worry, he’ll know exactly why you’re calling.” 😉

Make no mistake, Riski's partisan agenda has cost her credibility and access to critical information. Had she not devoted years to what many perceive to be a political witch hunt, embargoing stories damaging to KFC while soft-peddling those she couldn't ignore, she might actually have proper context for her reporting. Had she not ignored the mountains of evidence exposing Kirk’s dealings with developers and galling hypocrisy (evidence I know she received in 2023 because I was copied on those emails), she might not have twisted herself into knots trying to find new and interesting angles on other critically important stories. Had she not allowed herself to be perceived as transparently disdainful of all things Lago, she could have been armed with the credibility and evidence necessary to expose KFC's pathological dishonesty and definitively shatter their fabricated narrative that these raises emerged organically and with full commission input.

On bucks and their stopping

One of the reasons I'm so hard on Riski, I think, is because I have great difficulty being equally hard on the Herald more broadly. Perhaps I'm just a product of my generation, but I harbor this almost ingrained, Boomerish veneration for my hometown's paper of record. And I still admire a great many of the talented journalists and writers who work there.

But it would be intellectual malpractice to ignore the deeper institutional rot at play here. As much blame as Riski deserves for crafting such a crummy piece, her superiors deserve even more for allowing it to run. While the Herald's young and idealistic reporters may be champing at the bit to steer the paper into the realm of full-fledged and boldly unapologetic journo-activism, the editors remain fully empowered to apply the brakes. They simply choose not to.

Perhaps this is indicative of a certain strategy. Could it be that the Herald fears their younger and more ambitious reporters might transform the company's culture toward unchecked activism, similar to how many once-promising tech firms were ruined when overtaken by young political extremists? Have they perhaps chosen local government as a kind of sandbox, a beat in which the paper’s young revolutionaries can work out all their frustrations at minimal risk, kind of like one of those rage rooms, except instead of hitting old TVs with a sledgehammer, passionate young journalists get to clobber local politicians over the head with accusations of corruption?

I don’t know, but if this is indeed a containment strategy, it doesn’t seem to be working. There was nothing safe and contained about Sarah Blaskey, the City of Miami beat reporter who spent years relentlessly hounding Miami Mayor Francis Suarez only to be eventually outed as an actual card-carrying socialist:

Yeah, maybe having a reporter who freelances for the International Socialist Review cover the young, Republican descendant of anti-Castro Cuban immigrants and nationally prominent Miami mayor wasn’t exactly the best call on the Herald’s part. And I’m not sure choosing Blaskey’s young protégé, Riski, to cover that mayor’s good friend, Lago, was any wiser. I’m not suggesting the Herald needs to send Riski off to the journalistic equivalent of Siberia like they did with Blaskey, but maybe rein her in a bit?

And perhaps, just once, the Herald's leadership could finally admit that it has begun to lose journalistic balance at an institutional level. Since 2021, the paper has: rescinded Lago's editorial-board endorsement over a letter it initially neglected to share with the public (because it was eminently reasonable; a letter that I, a socially liberal political moderate, would have happily co-signed); implied that he is a racist in the process; reported breathlessly about his brother's nonexistent ties to Little Gables; and pummeled him with article after article about his meaningless relationship with Rishi Kapoor, whose items Lago recused himself on four separate times.

Meanwhile, Kirk has, among other things, repeatedly voted on items brought to the commission by the same developer his son worked for; orchestrated the deal that saw his entire block (including two of his own properties) sold to a developer for a conveniently astronomical markup; weathered accusations of corruption from several former city employees (accusations made under penalty of perjury, no less); boldly lied to the Herald's own reporter about his plans to support Peter Iglesias' termination mere hours before casting the decisive vote and revealing he'd had a successor waiting in the wings for days; shamelessly fabricated the origins of those infamous salary increases; grotesquely mismanaged a local nonprofit by failing to file required tax documents while stacking its board with family members like a deck of cards; and steadfastly refused to provide even a modicum of transparency regarding said nonprofit's finances.

And yet barely a peep from the Herald, the paper of record, about any of this. But hey, at least they asked Lago and Anderson for their receipts.

My dear Miami Herald, please understand that this isn’t the world of a decade ago, or even a year ago. It’s a brave new world of sorts, one where industry giants are reckoning with the decades of cultural decay and norm-subversion they’ve allowed to proliferate within their institutions—and at great cost. This younger generation of politicians and community leaders? They’re not the kind to take their beatings lying down. They’re angry, they’re aggrieved, but most importantly, they’re kind of right.

You would do well to take that to heart.