Can the Punishment Ever Fit the Crime in Citron Case?

It would be easier to want the book thrown at Robert Citron if he had bought fur-lined bathrobes, amassed an extensive art collection or driven a Mercedes. If he had, that would only put him in the company of some other illustrious local white-collar crooks.

Instead, Citron dressed modestly, drove late-model Chryslers and wasn’t above taking business associates to lunch at the Elks Lodge and ordering the soup and sandwich. The worst thing people said was that he had a penchant for being imperious, not for lining his pockets.

And yet, from those first days last December when Orange County citizens learned that the former treasurer had bet the farm and lost much of the crop, Citron has been a man waiting to be sentenced.

The frustration and anger toward him and just about everyone else associated with county government have leapt off citizens’ lips and from the pages of their letters to the editor.

Citron has done real damage, some measurable in dollars and cents and some not.

So, even before pleading guilty Thursday to six felonies that could bring him 14 years in prison, Citron was assured of never being forgotten by Orange County residents. Whether he’s ever forgiven will take some time to know.

What is the suitable punishment for a disgraced 70-year-old public servant whose policies led a county to financial chaos and negatively affected the lives of countless people?

“We’ve got lots of injured bodies in this case. We just don’t see them,” says a Superior Court judge who talked with me about Citron on the condition of anonymity. I had asked the judge to discuss the considerations a judge might have in sentencing in a case like this.

“There are always two considerations--the seriousness of the crime and the nature of the individual,” the judge said. “California law provides in so many words that the primary purpose of sentencing is punishment. Not rehabilitation; punishment. And in white-collar crime, traditionally, the difficulty is in balancing a serious crime against a previously blameless life.”

An analogy might be a vehicular manslaughter case, the judge said, involving “someone who has led a blameless life who, for whatever reason, puts everyone at risk by the way he drives and ends up destroying lives. Here (in the Citron case), not only did he put everyone at risk by the way he drove, but he was entrusted with a huge bus and he did incomprehensible damage.”

I asked if it would be difficult for a judge to determine a sentence for Citron, in that he is 70 years old and that there is no indication he profited financially from his actions. “Therein lies the rub,” the judge said. “Sentencing is uniquely individual. State law prescribes guidelines and tells you what to consider, but it doesn’t tell you how to consider it.”

As we talked, the judge couldn’t resist playing “judge” in the Citron case. “Having said that, this is one that wouldn’t be a tough sentence for me (to deliver). I’m afraid if you do that much damage, it’s real hard to convince me . . . what is the case that could be worse? If I’m not going to give this guy the maximum for this charge, what am I going to look for in the maximum? Almost by definition, these aren’t going to be gang members or prior felons. They’re always going to be upstanding members of the community who violated the statutes. And he violated it so badly that he devastated a county of millions of people.”

I’m too much of a bleeding heart to want to throw a 70-year-old man in jail for a long time. But I have this equally strong but conflicting thought: Tough sentencing in white-collar crimes would seem to have more deterrent value than in violent crime, if only because the latter often involve heat-of-the-moment acts where people don’t consider consequences.

Robert Citron didn’t kill anybody, but he may have killed local trust in government. His guilty pleas go beyond just having made a mistake reading the Wall Street tea leaves.

Three years ago, the district attorney’s office sought the maximum term for a Newport Beach city official who had embezzled $1.8 million. Deputy Dist. Atty. Craig McKinnon argued that “the real tragedy of this case is the loss of confidence and trust that the public has with the government.”

That’s as good a sentencing rationale as we need. If the judge in the Citron case accepts that reasoning, the former treasurer can only expect the worst.

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.