An Oakland City Councilmember proposed paying former City Administrator Jestin Johnson more than $400,000 in severance, money that would come straight from taxpayers, even though Johnson resigned after crude text messages about female employees surfaced in 2024. The councilmember has since pulled the proposal from the immediate agenda but says he may bring it back later this year.
The resolution, introduced by Councilmember Ken Houston, would have directed the city of Oakland to approve a $409,737 payout to Johnson in exchange for Johnson waiving any future legal claims against the city. Houston pulled the measure from this week's council meeting agenda but made clear the door remains open.
In a city already struggling with crime, crumbling infrastructure, and fiscal dysfunction, the proposal landed like a match on dry tinder. And the details of how Johnson left office make it worse.
Johnson resigned as Oakland's city administrator in May after text messages he exchanged with a subordinate in 2024 became public. In those messages, Johnson allegedly discussed female city employees in crude, objectifying terms.
In one exchange, Johnson wrote about a high-ranking female city official:
"I'm telling you, you have to sit next to her. I have to force myself to only look in her eyes. She had me a little giddy yesterday when we had to take pics."
In another, he commented on a female staffer's appearance:
"My goodness, [she] has a helluva walk."
Johnson reportedly referred to one woman as his "kryptonite." The identity of his subordinate, described as his "lieutenant", and the female employees referenced in the texts have not been publicly disclosed.
Whether any formal HR investigation or disciplinary process was conducted before Johnson's departure remains unclear. What is clear: Johnson resigned. He was not fired. And that distinction matters, because his original employment agreement included six months of severance only if he was terminated without cause. A resignation did not qualify him for that payout.
Houston told KQED he came up with the severance idea on his own and had not spoken with Johnson about it. His argument was straightforward risk management: pay now, or pay more later.
"I'm a business person, I'm proactive. If he sues, which I would do if I was in his position, it will cost the city."
Houston framed the choice in dollar terms:
"Is it better to give up $400,000 than $3 million with all the expenses?"
He did not explain the basis for his $3 million estimate. Nor has Johnson publicly indicated he intends to sue. Houston's entire justification rests on a hypothetical, one he says he would pursue if he were in Johnson's shoes.
That reasoning drew immediate fire. Sam Singer, who leads a public relations firm, offered a blunt summary of Oakland's governance problem:
"Oakland residents get dysfunction. City Hall insiders get paid."
The mayor's office declined to comment on the proposal. No other council members have publicly weighed in, at least not on the record.
The reaction from Oakland residents was swift and angry. On Reddit, one commenter captured the frustration:
"Oakland taxpayers, it's time to get LOUD. These are our tax dollars going to waste. Look at how bad our basics are in Oakland like schools, roads, crime. We need to vote these city council members out and put in place people who give a d*** about the basic Oaklander."
The sentiment is hard to argue with on the merits. Oakland faces well-documented problems with public safety, road maintenance, and school performance. Against that backdrop, a six-figure golden parachute for an official who left under a cloud of his own making is a tough sell.
And the mechanics of the deal deserve scrutiny. Johnson's contract did not entitle him to severance because he resigned. Houston's proposal would essentially override the terms of that agreement, creating a payout where none was owed. The city would be volunteering nearly $410,000 to settle a lawsuit that hasn't been filed, based on a cost projection that hasn't been substantiated, for a man whose own conduct forced his departure.
Oakland has spent years cycling through governance crises. The city's leadership has struggled with budget shortfalls, rising crime, and a steady drumbeat of scandals that erode public trust. Proposals like Houston's, however well-intentioned the legal calculus might be, reinforce the perception that City Hall operates by a different set of rules than the residents it serves.
Consider the incentive structure. A city administrator sends crude texts about female employees on his watch. He resigns rather than face the consequences. And then a councilmember proposes rewarding him with a six-figure check, funded by the same taxpayers whose roads need fixing, whose neighborhoods need policing, and whose schools need resources.
Houston may genuinely believe the payout is cheaper than litigation. But that argument assumes Johnson has a viable legal claim, a premise that hasn't been tested and that Houston himself acknowledged is speculative. And it ignores the message such a deal sends to every other city employee and every Oakland resident: misconduct at the top carries no real cost for the people responsible. The cost lands on everyone else.
Houston pulled the resolution from this week's agenda but has not withdrawn it permanently. He told reporters he could bring the matter back later in the year. The proposed resolution remains on Oakland's legislative tracking system, available for public review.
Several questions remain unanswered. Has Johnson retained counsel or signaled any intent to sue? What would his legal theory be, that he was forced to resign over conduct the texts themselves document? Has any other council member expressed support for the proposal? And will the mayor's office continue its silence, or will someone in Oakland's leadership actually take a public position?
The residents who pay for all of this deserve answers. They also deserve leaders who understand that accountability means something, and that a resignation under pressure is not the same thing as wrongful termination.
When a city can't fix its roads but can find $400,000 for the man who texted about a colleague's walk, the priorities are plain enough for anyone to read.
