Corruption Has Been Normalized — and It’s Costing the Niagara Region

In the Niagara Region, corruption doesn’t shock people anymore. That’s the problem.

Secret pay raises. Lavish trips. Insider deals. Contracts that always seem to go to the same people. Everyone shrugs, shakes their head, and moves on. When wrongdoing barely raises an eyebrow, something is deeply broken.

I read the papers. I watch the votes. I review the disclosures. I see politicians quietly approving compensation packages worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Tens of thousands spent on trips to places like Las Vegas. Almost two-thousand-dollar dinners charged to the public. I’m not exaggerating. This happens — and too often people just sigh and say, “That’s politics.”

This isn’t about party labels. Red or blue, the same small circle keeps winning while regular people keep losing. Leaders rotate offices, wait their turn, protect one another, and call it experience. Meanwhile, neighborhoods decline, small businesses struggle, and nothing ever really changes.

And the cost isn’t abstract. Corruption drains money that should be staying here — fixing streets, supporting schools, helping small businesses, investing in healthcare. Instead, it flows upward and outward, year after year, while the Niagara Region is told to accept less.

We’re told this is just how politics works. That challenging it is naïve. That rocking the boat is dangerous.

But that’s how corruption survives. Real change starts with uncomfortable conversations.

The Solution: Stop Accepting It — and Start Confronting It

I don’t owe the insiders anything. I’ve fought corruption before — Democrats and Republicans alike — and I’m not interested in waiting my turn or playing along. If something is wrong, I’ll say it. If a deal stinks, I’ll challenge it.

I’m the only politician in Western New York who can honestly say this: I was attacked by both Donald Trump and Andrew Cuomo. I’m proud of that. It means I wasn’t for sale.

I can’t be bribed. I can’t be bought. And I will never sell out for a title, an appointment, or an honor. My personal integrity matters more than any office.

What we need is simple but serious: transparency, accountability, and leadership that works for the public — not a closed club. That means opening the books, asking hard questions, and refusing to treat corruption as background noise.

That’s why I’ll start with something concrete: the OTB gaming facility. When a public asset generates millions of dollars and keeps producing scandal after scandal, it deserves real scrutiny. I will push for a full, independent audit of OTB’s finances going back at least ten years — real numbers, real oversight, no friendly reviews.

They’ll say, “There have already been audits.”

Sure. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

Not a wink-and-nod review. Not a buddy with a calculator. A real audit — follow the money, open the books, no favors, no filters. If everything’s fine, great. If it’s not, the public deserves to know.

That’s accountability.

Based on what the audit shows, I’ll fight for reform that actually serves the public interest. That could mean restructuring the authority, changing its governance, redirecting revenue back into our communities, or — if necessary — bringing OTB under stronger state control so it works for the people, not insiders.

If you’re happy with a system where nothing ever changes and the same people always benefit, then this campaign probably isn’t for you.

But if you’re tired of watching the Niagara Region get bled dry while leaders look the other way, then it’s time to do things differently.

Stop accepting it.

Call it out.

Let me fight it.