Clallam County’s commissioners say they’re working for you — but their internet history tells another story. Public records reveal gaming, personal finance browsing, and political sticker displays on taxpayer-owned laptops. As they push for a tax increase, the question is simple: are they really working for the public, or for themselves?
When “Public Service” Goes Offline
The three men elected to represent Clallam County — Commissioners Mike French, Randy Johnson, and Mark Ozias— have been telling taxpayers that every dollar matters. The county is facing a budget crunch, and this November they’re asking voters to approve a levy lid lift — a property tax increase — to “maintain essential services.”
But while the commissioners are urging residents to tighten their belts, public records paint a very different picture of how they spend time on the clock — and on taxpayer-owned laptops.
For one full month, May, records show the commissioners’ county-issued laptops were used for far more than official county business. Internet history logs reveal online gaming, personal financial management, news browsing, and even visits to CCWatchdog.com.
These computers, it bears repeating, are not personal devices. They are public property, assigned for county work, and meant to serve the people who pay for them.
Mike French: Gaming the System
Commissioner Mike French logged the highest non-work activity by far.
Public data shows:
137 visits to Petranaki.net, a “fan-made, open-source Star Wars unlimited simulator.”
71 visits to Chess.com, mostly to the “Daily Puzzle” and “Game Lobby” pages.
Multiple visits to Britannica.com quizzes and trivia pages.
Frequent logins to Yahoo Mail and Facebook during business hours.
French also spent considerable time reading The Wall Street Journal (19 visits) and logging into his LPL Financial and AccountView accounts — all personal financial platforms.
To be fair, French also viewed legitimate county sites, such as clallamcountywa.gov and the Charter Review Commission page. But the balance between gaming and governance raises questions.
When citizens are told that the county is considering cuts to public safety and elections, they might reasonably expect their commissioners to spend the workday on budgets and legislation — not daily chess puzzles.
Randy Johnson: Watching the Markets While the County Burns
Commissioner Randy Johnson’s search history shows a similar pattern, but with a focus on personal finances.
Johnson searched “Schwab login” at least 15 times, along with queries about Payments in Lieu of Taxes (PILT), the Washington State Capital Budget, and even bankruptcy credit reports.
Johnson’s attention to financial metrics might be commendable—if only he’d applied the same scrutiny to the Clallam Conservation District’s missing data and flawed reports instead of monitoring his own investments. But, should a county commissioner be tracking personal portfolios on public time, or focusing on the county’s shrinking budget and chronic staffing shortages?
Mark Ozias: Watching the Watchdog
Commissioner Mark Ozias’s browsing is a mix of legitimate research and revealing curiosity. His search terms included “Cultural Arts Access Program funding,” “Sequim zoning,” “Clallam Comprehensive Plan,” and “Lodging Tax discrepancies.”
But one line stands out: multiple searches for “Clallam County Watchdog” — this very publication. Commissioner Ozias, it seems, wanted to know what citizens were saying about him.
He also searched “Towne Road cost overrun” and “Clallam Recompete”, perhaps to stay ahead of growing criticism of the county’s spending practices.
Ozias’s laptop didn’t have visit counts like French’s or Johnson’s, but his curiosity about watchdog coverage suggests he’s paying attention — not to taxpayers’ concerns, but to his own reputation.
Sticker Shock: When County Laptops Become Billboards
The problems aren’t limited to browsing habits. Commissioners French and Ozias’ laptops — taxpayer-owned property — are covered in stickers, some with overt political messages.
Among them: the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union).
That’s the same ACLU whose activity has increasingly blurred the line between advocacy and activism.
In addition to helping organize the national “No Kings” protests — political demonstrations across several states in partnership with groups like Indivisible — the ACLU also launched “snitch lines” in Washington State, encouraging citizens to report signature gatherers during statewide ballot initiatives.
While the organization has long played a role in defending civil liberties, its growing involvement in partisan movements raises questions about whether such messaging belongs on publicly owned county property.
Free speech matters. But these laptops aren’t personal property. They are public equipment purchased and maintained with taxpayer funds.
Political stickers on government property don’t just look unprofessional; they blur the line between personal beliefs and public duty.
What They’re Not Doing
While the commissioners find time for games, finance checks, and political décor, there are urgent matters they haven’t addressed:
They have not responded to federal inquiries about the economic impact of converting private property into tribal trust land, which removes it from the tax rolls.
They have not responded to findings from the Marine Resources Committee, which suggested that Dungeness residents should be relocated and 3 Crabs Road removed.
They have ignored emails and comments from concerned residents, sometimes responding dismissively with comments like “I’m not interested in the subject matter,” “you seem to be interested in micromanaging,” or “you’ll have to figure that out all by yourself.”
The contrast is jarring: plenty of time for online games, but no time to answer the people they serve.
The Bigger Picture: Accountability and Arrogance
This story isn’t just about computer use — it’s about attitude.
County laptops are a symbol of public trust. They represent access to information, transparency, and service. When elected officials use them as personal entertainment centers, investment dashboards, or platforms for political expression, they erode that trust.
And when those same officials ask taxpayers to dig deeper into their pockets, the hypocrisy is hard to ignore.
A Closing Question
These three commissioners ran on promises of “engaged leadership,” being “hyper-vigilant,” and aproaches that “require focus.”
But if May’s browsing history is any indication, the stated goals of our elected leaders are not entirely true. They work on county laptops, with county internet, and during county hours — but not always for the county’s benefit.
So before you vote on November’s levy lid lift, ask yourself:
If they can’t respect the property you already pay for, why should they get more of your money?
This article only scratches the surface of what our county commissioners were searching in May. Think you can spot more? Take a closer look at the public records yourself — and let us know what you uncover.
