One of many problems with this system is that these 5 supervisors can NOT speak to more than one other supervisor outside of formally scheduled meetings where all are present due to the Brown Act.  While some may view that as a  positive, how do we know their aids aren't doing a lot of talking and communicating and all kinds of stuff with all or some of them in the loop and others not?  Furthermore, can they in fact do everything the need to do and share everything they need to share in the open meetings?

Example -  I told my supervisor about a concern withe the Real Estate Contracts in use across Monterey County that had buyers making offers and ratiifying conracts before they were given the sellers disclosure documents.   The contracts destroyed the reliance portion of the contract formation process and in fact , no contract could have been legally and properly formed with the system yet apparently it had been in play since the 1980s AND been a Real Estate Broker and Seller's dream but buyers nightmare.  

I viewed the supervisor as someone who should have or wold have cared about my concerns. When presented, i imagined he'd ask me to come into his office and explain my concerns and then share those with his 4 counterparts to get a consensus on how they might want to manage the situation and/or create a countywide disclosure document requiring proper contract formation practices. 

To my shock no sincere concern was expressed and it seemed he wanted to make it clear that was not something he could initiate as part of a motion or hearing.  It was as if it was up ot me to find the proper authorities or to take time on a weekday to air my concerns to the board, if I wanted to make it a board matter. 

For $180k that's what we get?  Somebody has bumped their heads with this system.

After months of unanswered demands, fragmented threads, and deflections that felt impossibly polished, one thing became clear: I don't see how they weren't using AI.

The volume of text, the consistent tone, the jargon ("comms"), the hybrid responses (formal draft + personal anecdotes)—it all aligns with someone feeding bullet points into a tool and getting back professional-grade evasion in minutes.

They were likely spending 5–10 minutes to generate responses that took me hours or days to document and counter.

And now they're armed with AI to deflect like a pro on anything we send in. That doesn't excuse any of this—it makes it worse.

In retrospect, even Judge Rivamonte's 12-page order—loaded with 12 extraneous case citations not in the defendant's motion—reads like AI output: authoritative on the surface, but out of context and lacking real engagement.

The ghost writers I've been chasing weren't geniuses. They were mental midgets using tools.

The system isn't just broken—it's being automated.

One undeniable fact cuts through all the deflections:

In every single email from Vierra, Church, Acevedo, and others across months and thousands of words—there is not one typo, grammatical error, or awkward phrase.

Not a single "teh" instead of "the," no missing commas, no sloppy shortcuts.

For busy staff handling 50,000+ constituents, that's not human—it's artificial.

Modern AI tools deliver perfect grammar every time. Humans, even careful ones, do not.