I. Introduction: When Ethics Become a Political Weapon
Ethics laws are most dangerous not when they are absent, but when they are present and selectively enforced. New York City’s Conflicts of Interest Law—Chapter 68—is intended to uphold the integrity of public service. But in practice, its enforcement has devolved into a political tool used to punish those who speak out and protect those who manipulate public power for private advantage.
The most vivid example is the treatment of Deputy Chief Winston Faison, a 25-year NYPD veteran whose true “offense” was refusing to ignore corruption within the NYPD Aviation Unit. Faison did not violate ethics law; he violated the unspoken code of silence that protects the politically connected. That is why the NYPD and the Conflicts of Interest Board aligned to punish him, even as they overlooked systemic misconduct by those in the Department’s inner circle.
Understanding Faison’s case requires revisiting both the structural rot within the NYPD and the DOI’s own findings about the Department’s internal failings. But more importantly, it requires exposing the root cause of the retaliation: Faison challenged entrenched financial waste and insider favoritism that City Hall and One Police Plaza have spent years ignoring.
II. Deputy Chief Faison: A Target Created by Integrity
Faison’s record speaks for itself. As a longtime aviation commander, he did the job professionally and without scandal. Beyond his NYPD duties, he dedicated his personal time and personal finances to mentoring underserved youth through his nonprofit aviation programs, Aviation4Us and Aviate4U. These programs cost the City nothing, violated no policy, and served a genuine public purpose.
But Faison also witnessed what few in the Department were willing to confront openly: longstanding financial misconduct within the Aviation Unit — misconduct protected by political alliances, long-running contracts, and the Department’s refusal to police itself.
And when he questioned it, the retaliation machinery accelerated.
The NYPD imposed a legally baseless penalty of 60 vacation days, equivalent to more than $52,000, with COIB now attempting to add yet another layer of punishment — even though others engage in vastly more serious violations with impunity.
The reason for the disparity becomes clear when we examine what Faison actually uncovered.
III. The Root Cause: Aviation Unit Corruption and Institutional Self-Protection
The NYPD Aviation Unit has long operated as a closed enclave — insulated, expensive, and largely shielded from external scrutiny. The City Council’s Public Safety Committee has never meaningfully investigated it. And with good reason: the waste is staggering.
Despite the arrival of NYPD Police Commissioner Jessica S. Tisch — often marketed as the Department’s “savior” of modernization and reform — the same patterns persist, because the problem is not leadership style; it is structural.
Inside the Aviation Unit, several practices have been allowed to continue unchecked. The first is massive unnecessary spending. Millions of taxpayer dollars have been spent on equipment far beyond operational need — purchases driven less by public necessity and more by vendor relationships and internal favoritism.
There is also excessive fuel consumption and routine misuse of aircraft. Helicopters routinely take flights unrelated to legitimate law-enforcement missions, turning the unit into what insiders quietly call a “taxpayer-funded travel service.” Under former Chief of Department Jeffrey B. Maddrey and former Deputy Commissioner of Operations, now Deputy Mayor for Public Safety, Kaz Daughtry, “warm up the bird” became a euphemism for unnecessary flights dressed up as readiness. Under that guise, pilots are directed to fly missions that burn enormous amounts of fuel without any corresponding public-safety benefit.
The CNC Technologies contract is another example. This lucrative, multi-million-dollar agreement is widely viewed inside the Department as a sweetheart arrangement. Its vague “technical support” language creates a pipeline of recurring work that conveniently keeps favored vendors “in the family” while locking out competition.
Then there are the Bell “training” trips, which function as taxpayer-funded vacations. Labeled as professional development, they consist of extended stays with minimal instructional value and do little to enhance safety or readiness. These trips are perks, not necessities.
Deputy Chief Faison questioned all of it.
And questioning it made him a threat.
In a system built on insider loyalty, the danger is never the misconduct — it is the person who exposes it.
The NYPD’s retaliation is not about ethics. It is about suppressing the one person who refused to participate in or ignore the misuse of public funds and power.
IV. DOI’s Findings: A Department Where Accountability Flows Only One Way
The NYPD’s double standard is not a matter of speculation — it is documented. The Department of Investigation’s recent reports reveal not only systemic failures within key NYPD units, but also the identities of the individuals who operated with impunity because they were politically aligned with the Adams Administration, elevated under former Police Commissioner Edward A. Caban, and further empowered under Commissioner Jessica S. Tisch, who continued the pattern of insulating this inner circle from meaningful oversight.
A. November 2024: The CRT Report — Built and Marketed by the Adams-Aligned Inner Circle
When DOI issued its November 2024 report on the Community Response Team (CRT), it exposed a policing unit created, branded, and publicly amplified by the Administration’s favored personalities — most notably former Chief of Patrol John Chell, Deputy Commissioner of Operations Kaz Daughtry, and the senior aides and communications staff elevated under Edward A. Caban before his resignation.
These individuals enjoyed a unique political status: they were the Administration’s chosen enforcers and public faces of “tough-on-crime” messaging. Under Caban, Chell and Daughtry operated with unprecedented latitude — directing messaging, controlling access, and building their own public profiles through NYPD resources.
DOI found CRT to be nothing short of an operational void.
It had no mission, no policies, no recruitment criteria, no training standards, no performance metrics, and no public transparency. It was an empty shell propped up by aggressive public-relations efforts orchestrated by Chell, Daughtry, and their circle.
Despite these findings, no discipline was imposed, no days were lost, and no COIB referrals were made.
B. The Tisch Continuation — A Culture Not Corrected, but Intensified
When Jessica S. Tisch replaced Caban, she was marketed as the NYPD’s operational “savior” — a modernization expert who would restore order and professional standards. Instead, under Tisch, the same Adams-aligned insiders retained, and in many cases expanded, their influence. She continued promoting CRT as a flagship NYPD “innovation” despite DOI’s findings, allowed Chell and Daughtry to continue leading high-profile media operations, positioned them as central spokespeople for police messaging, permitted the same rule-free culture to persist, and expanded their authority over communications, technology, and day-to-day public-relations strategy. Rather than correcting the lack of accountability, Tisch’s administration tightened the protective circle around the very individuals DOI identified as chronic violators of policy and internal order.
The message was unmistakable:
misconduct was not a problem — it was an asset, so long as it served the Administration’s political interests.
C. January 2025: The Executive Social Media Report — Misconduct by the Same Protected Figures
DOI’s January 2025 report confirmed the pattern. The same officials — Chell, Daughtry, and members of their communications network — used official NYPD accounts to attack elected officials, mock journalists and civilians, engage in borderline political messaging, violate Citywide Social Media Policy, and operate accounts without required approvals or oversight.
Under both Caban and Tisch, these individuals were permitted to turn NYPD resources into personal megaphones — not for public safety, but for self-promotion and political signaling.
Once again, no discipline was imposed.
Not a single forfeited day.
Not a single reprimand.
Not a single COIB inquiry.
Not even a public acknowledgement of wrongdoing.
D. The Pattern: Protected by Two Commissioners, Elevated by One Mayor
Across two commissioners — Caban and Tisch — and one mayoral administration, the same inner circle enjoyed authority without oversight, visibility without accountability, exemption from policy consequences, and institutional protection despite repeated documented violations.
And at the same time, the NYPD and COIB targeted Deputy Chief Winston Faison — a man who followed every rule — because he challenged the misconduct of this politically shielded circle.
The reality is no longer disputable:
Ethics in the NYPD are enforced only against those outside the political structure.
For those inside it, ethics do not apply.
This political insulation created the precise environment in which a whistleblower like Faison became intolerable.
V. Two Systems of Accountability: One for Insiders, One for Whistleblowers
These DOI findings are not merely historical documents; they are the scaffolding upon which the NYPD’s selective enforcement structure rests.
The deeper truth emerging from DOI’s findings is that the NYPD operates two entirely separate accountability systems. For those politically aligned with the Adams Administration, elevated under Edward A. Caban, and protected under Jessica S. Tisch, misconduct is interpreted as discretion. Their political value transforms violations into “judgment calls,” and the absence of enforcement becomes a reward for loyalty.
For whistleblowers, however, integrity itself becomes the offense. When Deputy Chief Winston Faison raised concerns about waste, mismanagement, and unethical behavior within the Aviation Unit, he violated not Chapter 68, but the unspoken rule that misconduct must be ignored if committed by the protected class. The punishment he received — a penalty untethered to law or logic — was designed to deter anyone else from stepping outside the established hierarchy of silence.
Faison did not commit an ethical breach. He committed an institutional sin: he acknowledged the truth aloud. The selective use of Chapter 68 was simply the mechanism chosen to silence him, because the system needed a legal façade to mask retaliatory intent.
VI. The City Council’s Silence: A Legislative Failure with Serious Consequences
The City Council’s Public Safety Committee holds the statutory authority to investigate NYPD misconduct, systemic fiscal waste, and abuse of public funds. Yet its silence in the face of longstanding Aviation Unit irregularities — the overspending, the unnecessary equipment purchases, the excessive flight hours, the questionable vendor relationships, and the travel disguised as “training” — is more than passive oversight. It is an abdication of legislative responsibility.
The Committee cannot legitimately claim to champion transparency, public trust, or responsible budgeting while avoiding the one unit where millions of taxpayer dollars disappear without meaningful scrutiny. The refusal to investigate allows the same insiders named in DOI reports to continue operating unchecked, strengthening the culture that retaliates against whistleblowers like Faison and emboldens those who view public money as a political resource.
The City Council may choose not to act, but that does not end the inquiry. Where legislative inaction creates a vacuum, the courts have both the authority and the obligation to step in. If City Hall and the Council refuse to confront structural misconduct, litigation will supply the accountability they decline to pursue.
VII. Conclusion: Faison’s Case Is a Warning — and an Opportunity for Reform
Deputy Chief Winston Faison’s legal battle is not an isolated administrative dispute; it is a case study in how power operates when ethics rules are selectively applied. His punishment reveals a system inverted: the politically connected enjoy immunity even when their misconduct is documented, while those who expose corruption are punished under the guise of “ethics” enforcement.
Faison’s case stands as a referendum on the future of public integrity in New York City. It asks whether the City will continue to tolerate structural favoritism, fiscal abuse, and a leadership culture that treats truth-telling as misconduct — or whether public scrutiny and legal intervention will force a recalibration of power.
The choice now sits before the City plainly.
The silence that has protected misconduct cannot continue to serve as a shield.
And the retaliation inflicted on Faison may ultimately become the catalyst that brings long-needed reform to a system deeply invested in avoiding it.
Whether New York chooses reform or denial will determine whether ethics remain a principle — or remain a weapon.