Disgraced ex-congressman George Santos was recently sentenced to seven years and three months in federal prison on charges of wire fraud and aggravated identity theft, according to reporting by The New York Times.
Santos, a former Republican who previously represented New York’s third congressional district, pled guilty to the charges last year, over eight months following his expulsion from Congress as the result of an ethics investigation.
In his plea, he admitted to filing fraudulent Federal Election Commission reports, embezzling funds from campaign donors, charging credit cards without authorization, stealing identities, obtaining unemployment benefits through fraud and lying in a report to the U.S. House of Representatives, according to a press release from the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Eastern District of New York.
If you ask me, this sentence has been a long time coming.
I never thought I would get the chance to see a member of Congress expelled in my lifetime. It is truly a rarity to see a majority of a congressmember’s own party turn on a member, and is truly representative of the lengths of the damage Santos did and how many people he hurt while abusing his office.
We live in an era now where a convicted felon holds the highest office in the land, and yet Santos’ misdeeds stretched so far beyond what is acceptable to both Congress and the public that they felt it necessary to remove him from his position, as well as for authorities to pursue prosecution.
The sentence itself is fully warranted, and while I commend Santos for pleading guilty to the acts he so obviously committed, I find his behavior thereafter, specifically following his expulsion from Congress, to be deeply problematic.
Santos has sought to portray himself as something of a pop culture icon, raking in $360,000 from a Cameo account where fans and supporters alike can pay for personalized videos from him, according to The New York Times.
Additionally, Santos started a podcast aptly titled “Pants on Fire.”
He has built an entire brand around the fact that he is a liar, a fraudster and a cheat.
Many onlookers may find this brazenness quite humorous, and I don’t blame you, but we shouldn’t give Santos what he wants by downplaying the real impacts of his crimes.
He stole from donors, used campaign money for personal purchases and falsified
his resume. He said he was a descendant of Holocaust refugees, said his mother was in the World Trade Center during the September 11 attacks, and boasted about work for Wall Street firms that never occurred.
Judge Joanna Seybert said it best during the sentencing of Santos, “Mr. Santos, words have consequences,” Seybert told him. “You got elected with your words, most of which were lies.”
All of what I have mentioned above only scratches the surface of the breadth of his fabrications. Truly, there is very little about Santos’ life that he has not lied about, and I find his half-hearted attempt at sounding remorseful during his sentencing to be another act of dishonesty.
It would be one thing if there were a single lapse in judgment, but when you have someone who has consistently failed to represent themselves in an honest way for years now, there is a pattern, and Santos likely has little intention of stopping anytime soon.
This is evidenced by Santos referring to the sentence on social media as “an over the top politically influenced sentence.”
One of Santos’ lawyers also said the legal team would seek a pardon from President Donald Trump despite Santos himself denying he would do so days earlier, according to The Times.
If he felt so guilty about what he had done, he wouldn’t be seeking a pardon or ranting about the “unfair sentencing” on his social channels; he would accept the consequences of his actions and live a normal, private life like most Americans.
With any luck, Trump may choose not to pardon Santos, given his toxic brand within the Republican party, but I have my doubts; criminals have to look out for each other after all.
But for now, the justice system did the right thing, and Santos will be going to where he belongs come July 25: A cold, dark cell in federal prison.
Nathan Hope can be contacted at
