San Diego Humane Society's Empire of Influence, Absence of Accountability
Dr. Gary Weitzman Had a Chance to Set the Record Straight. He Didn’t.
Touting national leadership in lifesaving and transparency, the San Diego Humane Society (SDHS) has long occupied a position of influence in American animal welfare. But when CEO Dr. Gary Weitzman was invited to respond to detailed public questions about recent scandals, policy shifts, and allegations from whistleblowers, his long-awaited written answers fell short of meaningful engagement.
Delivered nearly two months after the initial request, Dr. Weitzman's responses read less like a candid dialogue and more like a tightly packaged PR memo. While SDHS’ accomplishments are highlighted at length, fundamental questions about transparency, accountability, and decision-making remain conspicuously unanswered.
In his cover note, Dr. Weitzman acknowledged the presence of detractors and framed criticism as a consequence of the organization’s prominence and resources. He emphasized his hope that “facts, not opinion, guide people to the right answers,” and expressed a willingness to engage further. This measured, conciliatory tone sets the stage for the detailed but often guarded responses that follow.
Editor’s note: The complete written interview with Dr. Weitzman is available in full at the conclusion of this article.
The Grand Jury Report: Independent Findings
Before turning to the interview itself, it's worth noting that independent oversight bodies have recently raised many of the same concerns covered in our questions—concerns SDHS continues to dispute. Most notably, a newly released Grand Jury report offers a revealing outside assessment of the organization's public performance.
It seems SDHS’ challenges are not just a matter of perception or whistleblower complaints. A 2024-25 San Diego County Grand Jury report, released just weeks ago, found that SDHS routinely failed to meet its contractual obligations for animal control, including maintaining the minimum number of patrol officers required to cover more than 300 square miles, 70 miles of coastline, and 400 parks.
The Grand Jury documented a 90% drop in citations for leash-law violations and slow, inconsistent response times to service calls—sometimes stretching as long as 30 hours. The report concluded that SDHS’ reliance on education over enforcement, coupled with poor record-keeping and oversight, left public safety and contract compliance in question.
SDHS, for its part, dismissed the Grand Jury’s findings as “mischaracterizations and untruths”—a refrain familiar to those who have pressed the organization for greater transparency. Dr. Weitzman has used similar language in direct communications with Animal Politics.
In his initial outreach, he wrote, “You’ve got quite a few things wrong about us,” and later promised, “There’s a whole other world of facts you should have.” This interview, according to Dr. Weitzman, was intended to provide that broader perspective. Yet what followed—framing outside scrutiny as misinformed or incomplete—has characterized SDHS’ response to both independent oversight and investigative journalism, often substituting broad assurances for substantive engagement with the specific issues raised.
These findings from independent oversight mirror the pattern seen in SDHS’ own communications and responses to Animal Politics’ direct questioning.
A Pattern of Controlled Messaging
When asked whether SDHS would release a full year of detailed euthanasia records for independent review, Dr. Weitzman declined, instead pointing to summary data in public reports. He stated, “These decisions involve complex, individualized assessments…that cannot be fully understood from documentation alone,” sidestepping the core issue of independent oversight.
This pattern repeats across multiple issues. On the controversial 2023 transport of over 300 small animals to the Humane Society of Southern Arizona (HSSA)—many of which were reportedly sold as reptile feed—Dr. Weitzman shifted responsibility entirely to HSSA. He refused to release unredacted internal communications, citing SDHS' status as a private nonprofit. “We reserve the right…to maintain the confidentiality and integrity of our internal communications,” he wrote.
Despite the incident prompting the termination of HSSA’s CEO, SDHS leadership was retained without public accountability. Dr. Weitzman stated that SDHS staff were “not responsible in any way for the presumed tragic outcome,” despite transporting the animals and lacking meaningful tracking protocols.
Transparency Without Disclosure
Throughout the written exchange, SDHS invokes its public commitment to transparency while repeatedly denying access to records. There is no release of internal emails, no disclosure of the full euthanasia database, no publication of the private investigator’s report commissioned by SDHS, and no substantive response to whistleblower claims about enforcement failures and selective intake policies.
In one telling example, SDHS asserted that “we have an absolute edict to never turn an animal away," yet a community member was reportedly quoted a $30 intake fee per guinea pig after discovering dozens abandoned in a dumpster in San Marcos. Dr. Weitzman claimed the fees were ultimately waived and the animals accepted. He did not address why the fee was cited in the first place—a critical omission when evaluating SDHS’ claim of open admission.
Compounding the disconnect between image and reality is a series of revelations about SDHS leadership itself. According to whistleblowers, multiple high-ranking figures do not live in San Diego County despite being publicly portrayed as local.
SDHS’ Chief of Humane Law Enforcement, Jace Huggins, lives in Sacramento. A political consultant involved in negotiating SDHS’ public contracts was reportedly based in Idaho until recently. SDHS’ legal team in a high-profile abandonment lawsuit consisted of nine attorneys from Los Angeles and San Francisco, raising the question: Why does a San Diego organization entrusted with millions in local funds outsource its leadership and legal work to out-of-county players?
Critics argue that taxpayer money intended to support animals and the community is instead diverted to sustaining a politically connected, empire-building machine. The optics, one local advocate wrote, “stink.”
Deflecting on Policy and Legislative Opposition
SDHS' public advocacy stands in contrast to its behind-the-scenes lobbying. The organization opposed AB 2265 and AB 595—bills promoting shelter transparency and spay/neuter access—despite claiming to champion both values. Dr. Weitzman argues these bills posed "operational challenges" and were not opposed "because we oppose spay/neuter or transparency," yet SDHS invested heavily in opposing them alongside other powerful players.
The Rescue Partner Agreement further reveals a defensive posture. Language allowing SDHS to sever ties with critics who “malign our organization” raises concerns about suppressing dissent. Dr. Weitzman defended this clause as longstanding policy, but critics argue it chills open dialogue and pressures partners into silence.
The Broader Implication: Influence Without Accountability
SDHS’ stature gives it immense influence over statewide and national sheltering practices. That influence is wielded with strategic intent—but rarely subjected to meaningful external review. Dr. Weitzman's interview responses, heavy on polish and light on substance, reinforce this dynamic.
While SDHS promotes itself as a paragon of transparency and lifesaving innovation, its refusal to release data, internal records, or a candid account of the HSSA transport scandal undermines that narrative. In multiple instances, the organization's public statements do not reconcile with internal behavior, legislative actions, or the lived experiences of whistleblowers, volunteers, and community members.
Board Governance and Community Concerns
Several former insiders and community watchdogs have raised concerns about the San Diego Humane Society’s board governance, describing it as insular, opaque, and closely aligned with local political power. Critics allege that longstanding personal and professional relationships between board members and city officials have created a climate in which dissent is muted and oversight is limited.
While SDHS publicly lists its board members, basic transparency questions remain about the board’s role in scrutinizing leadership decisions, financial oversight, public accountability, and strategic hires—particularly those involving out-of-county executives, consultants, and legal teams. It’s an unusual level of opacity for a high-profile nonprofit receiving millions in public funding.
Observers also point to a pattern of internal loyalty and political protection that has insulated SDHS leadership from meaningful reform. Former trustee Lori Walton, who once led efforts to investigate misconduct under a previous CEO, reportedly expressed frustration with fellow trustee Judith Muñoz’s continued defense of controversial leadership. Muñoz is reported to have played a central role in past executive searches and supported both Dr. Gary Goldstein and Dr. Gary Weitzman—even amid public scrutiny and internal concern.
Complicating matters further, Muñoz also held appointments on City of San Diego advisory bodies during her tenure at SDHS, including as Chair of the Mission Bay Park Improvement Fund Oversight Committee and a member of the Parks and Recreation Board. While these positions were unpaid, critics argue that her overlapping roles created the appearance of a conflict of interest—particularly given SDHS’ multimillion-dollar contracts with the city. The blurred line between civic influence and nonprofit governance has only deepened public skepticism over who, if anyone, is holding SDHS leadership accountable.
Given these historical concerns, critics contend that SDHS should fully disclose any current or recent affiliations its board members may have with municipal or political bodies—especially during ongoing contract negotiations with the City of San Diego. Transparency around potential conflicts of interest is not just a matter of best practice; it’s essential for public confidence in how taxpayer dollars are being managed and how animal welfare decisions are being made.
Critics further allege that personal relationships between SDHS leadership and powerful San Diego figures—including Mayor Todd Gloria, Councilmember Stephen Whitburn, and editorial voices at the Union-Tribune—may have contributed to a “hands-off” political approach. While these ties are not formally documented, they are widely referenced among Democratic insiders and community advocates frustrated by the lack of traction in addressing transparency and governance concerns. As one animal advocate put it, “Has SDHS become such a sacred cow that no one in power is willing to ruffle feathers—even when animal welfare is on the line?”
Conclusion: A Call for Independent Oversight
San Diego Humane Society has the opportunity to lead by example. But leadership requires more than curated impact reports and moral platitudes. It requires openness, accountability, and the courage to answer hard questions—especially when public trust is on the line.
The urgency of this need is underscored by the recent San Diego County Grand Jury report, which documented SDHS’ systemic failures to meet its contractual obligations for animal control, including chronic understaffing, a collapse in enforcement, and a lack of transparency in public reporting. The Grand Jury’s recommendations for performance audits, standardized reporting, and stricter oversight echo the very concerns raised by whistleblowers, community advocates, and Animal Politics.
Further, a December 2024 Superior Court ruling found that SDHS violated state animal abandonment laws by releasing thousands of adoptable cats into unsafe environments under its Community Cat Program—despite receiving millions in public funding to provide shelter and care. The court’s findings, combined with the Grand Jury’s conclusions, expose a pattern of operating without meaningful accountability or oversight.
If SDHS cannot or will not meet the standards of transparency, humane practice, and legal compliance expected of a public-facing institution, then perhaps it is time for independent oversight to do what the organization so far has not: provide the public with the unvarnished truth.
As one whistleblower, reflecting on the Animal Politics interview questions, put it: “Imagine if they answered all of those questions truthfully. There would be true transparency, trust, open communication, and everyone could collaborate.”
For now, SDHS’ responses—and the mounting official scrutiny—raise more questions than they resolve. Dr. Gary Weitzman had a chance to set the record straight. He chose not to.
If you have information, documentation, or experiences relevant to SDHS’ operations or animal welfare in San Diego, Animal Politics invites you to share your story confidentially (AnimalPolitics8@gmail.com). Our reporting depends on community voices and whistleblowers committed to transparency and accountability.
Full Interview Transcript:
Dr. Gary Weitzman’s Responses to Animal Politics
Readers interested in the complete, unedited exchange can download the full transcript here.
Ed Boks is a former Executive Director of the New York City, City of Los Angeles, and Maricopa County Animal Care & Control Departments, and a former Board Director of the National Animal Control Association. His work has been published in the LA Times, New York Times, Newsweek, Real Clear Policy, Sentient Media, and now on Animal Politics with Ed Boks.
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Ed, Greatly appreciate your comprehensive coverage addressing key issues with SDHS. From what I understand, those in San Diego County closely involved in seeking transparency and accountability will agree.
The illustration of selling ice to an Eskimo hilariously PERFECT! Cheers
So the CEO of SDHS finally responded to months of public outcry, whistleblower claims, and a Grand Jury report… and what did we get? A glorified Yelp review of himself.
Meanwhile, the Grand Jury says SDHS is failing its contract, not responding to calls, and basically ghosting leash law violations across 300 square miles.
Oh and apparently their humane law enforcement guy lives in Sacramento. Because when you’re managing public safety in San Diego, it’s important to be a solid 500 miles away. This isn’t leadership, it’s theater!