Matt Ready

Editorial:
For Hospital CEOs, Commissioners, and Legal Counsel Across Washington State

“The evidence leans toward unauthorized board actions and suppression of transparency, raising concerns about public trust and governance.”
—Jefferson County Sheriff’s Report, Case No. 2025-3822

Trust is not a garnish on the plate of public service. It is the meal. Without trust, every law, every vote, every dollar, and every decision is suspect. It is not policy or PowerPoint presentations that hold public institutions together—it is belief. Belief that leaders are honest. That laws are followed. That process matters.

The Peninsula Health Alliance scandal unfolding in Jefferson County is not just a legal matter. It is a profound rupture in the public trust—a collapse in governance rooted in secrecy, exclusion, and a systematic failure to honor the people’s right to know.

When Secrecy Replaces Process

The facts are no longer in dispute: A major proposal to restructure governance over two public hospital districts—Jefferson Healthcare and Olympic Medical Center—was submitted by Jefferson’s CEO, Mike Glenn, without a public vote. It was advanced under a cloud of executive session secrecy, justified by a real estate pretext that both the Jefferson County Sheriff and Prosecutor said likely violated Washington’s Open Public Meetings Act.

The board of elected commissioners—the very people tasked with protecting the public’s voice—did not publicly authorize this proposal. They were instead looped into private exchanges, one by one, eroding the legal wall between a public vote and a private endorsement. Some participated. One, Commissioner Matt Ready, objected. He was silenced. Muted. His microphone turned off.

This is not a disagreement about strategy. This is a breakdown of trust.

The First Casualty: Legitimacy

No one disputes that healthcare is complex, or that collaboration may be necessary in an era of shrinking margins and rising costs. But if you pursue those goals through concealed deals, off-the-record approvals, and legal gymnastics designed to keep the public in the dark, you don’t gain efficiency—you lose legitimacy.

And once legitimacy is lost, the public will not trust you with their money, their votes, or their hospitals. They won’t trust you with their soldiers, either, should times ever come to that. Public trust is not a perk of good behavior. It is the precondition for governance itself.

A Word to Hospital CEOs

To every CEO of a public hospital district in Washington: you are not a corporate executive. You are a steward of a public institution, funded by tax dollars, governed by law, and answerable to the people.

You are not entitled to shape policy in back rooms, to shop proposals without board approval, or to advise commissioners not to share information with the public. That isn’t strategic leadership—it’s managerial authoritarianism cloaked in bureaucratic procedure.

If you do not act in ways that nurture transparency, inclusion, and consent, you will breed mistrust. And from mistrust flows opposition, resistance, litigation, and collapse.

A Word to Commissioners

To the board members who sat silently while this unfolded: trust is your charge. Not just fiduciary duty or public relations, but trust. That means asking hard questions in public. That means refusing to “go along” with secret processes. That means voting publicly or not at all.

When you stand silently in the face of improper process, you do not protect the institution—you tarnish it. If the public does not trust your process, they will not trust your decisions. And without that trust, your authority is a house with no foundation.

A Word to Legal Counsel

And to legal advisors—especially those who advise public institutions: your client is not the CEO or the board chair. Your client is the public hospital district. You are not paid to justify secrecy, to help “find a way” around open meetings, or to retroactively sanitize what was done in shadow.

If you cannot stand as a bulwark for lawful governance, then you are not a counselor—you are an accomplice.

What Now?

Washington’s public hospital system stands at a precipice. If the Peninsula Health Alliance proposal is allowed to fade into memory without accountability, a precedent is set: that major restructuring of public institutions can be done quietly, without public consent, and justified after the fact.

But if this moment becomes a turning point—if it inspires structural reform, independent legal counsel for boards, clear boundaries for executive sessions, and a recommitment to the principles of open governance—then trust can begin to be restored.

The people do not demand perfection. But they do demand honesty. And when that is denied, no amount of legal cover or strategic jargon will protect your institution from the backlash of a community that no longer believes in the integrity of its own leaders.

Trust is not something you can rebuild in a memo. You must earn it—day after day, in public. Or you will lose it forever.

Yes. that is a threat.

Part 2: Yes. that is a threat

Trust is not something you can rebuild in a memo. You must earn it—day after day, in public. Or you will lose it forever.

Yes. That is a threat.

Not a threat of harm, but of consequence. The same kind of consequence that follows when a bridge is built on sand, or when a lie is buried under bureaucracy. Because trust is not a decoration—it’s the foundation. Without it, nothing stands. Not relationships. Not institutions. Not democracy.

Trust is like science: it must be tested. It begins with a hypothesis—“you can count on me”—and only earns the title of truth when actions repeat that promise again and again under public scrutiny. Break that cycle, and trust, like bad science, collapses under the weight of its own contradiction.

Trust is like art: it takes time, care, and courage. It can’t be manufactured by committee. It is felt, recognized, and believed because it resonates with what is real. But if it turns artificial—if it’s faked—people will feel that too. The audience always knows.

And trust is like philosophy: it is built on principles. It forces you to ask hard questions. What is right? What is fair? Who gets to decide? The answers aren’t always comfortable, but they matter. Because when you abandon the questions—or silence the ones asking—you create not order, but control.

At Jefferson Healthcare, a proposal was crafted behind closed doors that could transfer power away from elected representatives to a nonprofit board. The process was hidden. Commissioners were muted. The public was shut out. This wasn’t a one-time error—it was a violation of the principle that public institutions exist to serve people, not to avoid them.

Trust doesn’t survive darkness. It needs daylight. Like science needs evidence. Like art needs honesty. Like philosophy needs truth.

You can’t fake trust. You can’t shortcut it. You can’t write your way back into it with memos and apologies. You must live it. Own it. Defend it.

Because once it’s gone, no title, no position, no power will ever make people believe you again.

And that is the real threat.