🚨 Sheriff Nanos Exposes Governor's Border Task Force Charade: "I Never Knew About This Task Force"
Reveals Costly Political Theater While Real Public Safety Needs Go Unfunded
Based on the Buckmaster Show for 3/14/25.
😽 Keepin’ It Simple Summary for Younger Readers
👧🏾✊🏾👦🏾
👮♂️ Sheriff Chris Nanos 🗣️ discussed big problems 🚨 his department faces keeping people safe in Tucson. He doesn't have enough deputies 👥 to answer all emergency calls 📞, especially in areas far from the city 🏜️. The jail 🏢 is old and needs fixing 🔧, especially since many people arrive with drug problems 💊 that need medical care 🏥. Meanwhile, the governor announced a plan to spend millions of dollars 💵 on border security without even talking to the sheriff first 🤷. This shows how politicians 🏛️ sometimes make decisions that look good on TV 📺 but don't actually help solve real problems 😟. The sheriff believes we should spend money on things that actually keep communities safe 🛡️ instead of just pretending to fix problems 🤔.
🗝️ Takeaways
🔍 Sheriff Nanos learned about Governor Hobbs' border task force through a press release, not direct communication, despite overseeing "the largest linear border with Mexico of any county."
💰 While $100 million has been allocated to border operations, with another $30 million coming, none has reached the Pima County Sheriff's Department despite the staffing crisis.
👮♂️ The department has declined from 1,686 personnel in 2016 to approximately 1,456 today, with only about 200 actual deputies available for patrol responses.
🚑 Hospitalized inmates require two corrections officers for continuous monitoring, creating "eight to ten hospital posts every day" that further strain limited staffing.
🏢 Jail infrastructure requires substantial upgrades, with makeshift solutions like replacing half-walls with full-glass observation areas in detox cells addressing immediate concerns.
🗳️ The special election to replace Congressman Grijalva will likely conclude in late September, with potential candidates including his daughter, Adelita Grijalva, and Secretary of State Adrian Fontes.
Sheriff Speaks: Underfunded, Understaffed, and Undermined by Political Theater at the Border
In the shadow of loss that hangs over Tucson following progressive champion Rep. Raúl Grijalva's passing, Friday's Buckmaster Show peeled back the layers of institutional dysfunction plaguing Pima County's justice system.
Like a Greek tragedy where the chorus warns of impending disaster while the rulers continue their pageantry, Sheriff Chris Nanos delivered hard truths about manufactured border crises and the very real staffing apocalypse facing his department—all while politicians in Phoenix choreograph elaborate border security performances with money that never reaches those actually doing the work.
Principles Over Politics: The Grijalva Legacy Lingers
The studio air hung heavy with collective grief as the conversation began with reflections on Congressman Grijalva, whose death from lung cancer treatment complications has left progressive Arizonans without their most fearless advocate. Sheriff Nanos, dressed in his formal uniform fresh from a graduation ceremony, offered an assessment that transcended partisan lines.
"This is a man who had principles and always never feared standing up for those principles," Nanos reflected, his voice carrying the gravity of genuine respect. "Whether I agree with this position or that position, that's one thing. But to be able to say, 'I disagree with you, but I'm still going to say what I believe is right'... that's a good human being."
In an era where political weathervanes spin with every shift in polling data, Grijalva stood as an oak—unmoved by political expediency and unwavering in his defense of marginalized communities. His passing doesn't just create an electoral vacancy; it leaves a moral void in Arizona's political landscape that few have the courage to fill.
How strange that we only fully appreciate principled fighters after they're gone while rewarding spineless political contortionists with endless terms in office. Perhaps we deserve the representatives we elect, not the ones we claim to want.
The Border Security Theater: Act One of Political Pantomime
When discussion turned to immigration enforcement, Sheriff Nanos delivered a masterclass in exposing political theater with the precision of a surgeon and the bluntness of a sledgehammer.
Governor Katie Hobbs' recently announced border task force—supposedly a collaborative effort between state agencies and local law enforcement—was news to the sheriff of the county with "the largest linear border with Mexico of any county in the nation."
"I never knew about [Governor Hobbs’] task force, never heard about it," Nanos revealed with a touch of sardonic amusement. "I heard like you did. I got a news media release on the 25th."
Picture this Kafkaesque absurdity: The governor announces a multi-agency border security initiative without consulting the sheriff whose jurisdiction contains the largest stretch of that same border. This isn't merely an oversight—it's a deliberate choreography designed for media consumption rather than meaningful security outcomes.
"When the governor asked us, 'Hey, you guys want to play?' And it really wasn't much of an ask. I simply got the email saying, 'Hey, this is what we're doing.' And we've talked to the sheriffs," Nanos recounted, his tone carrying the weariness of someone who's witnessed too many political performances. "I thought, 'OK, not this sheriff.'"
The financial dimensions of this charade are even more staggering. According to Nanos, the governor "gave $100 million to this already... and you have another $28, $30 million to give." Yet none of that border security bonanza reached his department—the very definition of security theater, where visuals matter more than actual enforcement outcomes.
Funny how there's always money for border spectacles that play well in campaign ads but never enough for the basic infrastructure of public safety. It's almost as if the system is designed to perpetuate problems rather than solve them. Who would have thought?
Meanwhile, the sheriff's approach remains grounded in data rather than drama: a mere 0.001% of their 140,000 annual calls come from the border area.
"It would be silly for me to deploy a team of men or women and equipment," Nanos explained with pragmatic clarity, "especially when you think about the federal government has $50 billion down along their... Homeland Security teams have 50,000 HSI agents working here in Tucson and 6,000 border patrolmen."
As local agencies like the Tucson Police Department struggle for basic operational funding—which voters recently rejected—this misallocation of resources becomes not just wasteful but actively harmful to public safety. The contrast couldn't be clearer: imaginary crises receive lavish funding while real crises wither on the bureaucratic vine.
Staffing Apocalypse: The Crisis Nobody's Talking About
Beneath the headline-grabbing border debate lurks a genuine catastrophe that receives far less media attention: a staffing crisis of biblical proportions. Sheriff Nanos painted a statistical picture so grim it could have been lifted from a dystopian novel about the collapse of public institutions.
The authorized strength of his department is 1,479 personnel. Current staffing? Approximately 1,456—with only about 200 actual deputies available for patrol responses. This represents a precipitous decline from 2016 levels of 1,686 personnel, creating a perpetual game of catch-up that makes Sisyphus look optimistic.
"When I came back in 2020, we had 1,282. What happened? 400 people left us," Nanos explained, the numbers speaking volumes about institutional decay. "Decisions were made beyond my control. Sheriff Napier came in and made his decisions... but that time COVID hit, other things happened. The labor market and labor workforce just collapse."
The mathematics of maintaining staffing levels reveals the true depth of this crisis. Losing just one deputy weekly while facing a 40-week training timeline creates an impossible equation: "I have to hire 40, get them all to graduate, just as we did today, to stay even," Nanos calculated. "I gain none. To gain one, I have to hire 41."
This isn't just an administrative headache—it's a fundamental breakdown in the machinery of public safety, another casualty of capitalism's inability to adequately value essential services over quarterly profits. When we wonder why response times lag or why rural areas feel abandoned, the answer isn't complicated: there simply aren't enough bodies to do the work.
Curious how we never question spending billions on military equipment that sits unused but scrutinize every penny for the public servants who actually protect our communities. Almost like our priorities are completely backward by design.
Inside the Crumbling Corrections Complex: Victorian Infrastructure Meets Modern Crises
If staffing woes represent one dimension of the crisis, the jail system's physical infrastructure reveals another. Like trying to run modern software on a computer from the 1990s, Pima County attempts to address contemporary detention challenges in facilities designed for a different era.
The jail population has evolved dramatically: where once misdemeanors constituted roughly half the inmates, today 95% face felony charges. Simultaneously, detainees increasingly arrive with substance abuse issues requiring intensive monitoring. Nanos has extended detox periods from 24 hours to 5-10 days, reflecting addiction's vicious grip on those cycling through the justice system.
"When you come into our facility, we know and understand that those first 72 hours are critical," Nanos explained, outlining procedures that balance security with humanity. "If you've got somebody who comes in who you know is an addict or is just right now at that moment in time on something, that too is critical."
This medical burden strains already limited resources in ways that reveal the fundamental contradiction of our approach to incarceration: we criminalize addiction but lack the infrastructure to address it humanely. "If it's something like that where we're in detox, you almost want to have one CO per inmate because it's so dangerous," Nanos noted, contrasting this with the standard ratio of "one CO for 70 people, not ideal."
The physical environment itself required emergency renovation after Nanos identified deadly design flaws. "The detox area we had before was like one or two cells, and they had walls that would come halfway up, concrete block walls, and then a glass window," he described. "So your seals, your corrections officers, walk by and look in the window... People were sitting on the floor below the wall and dying because they were out of sight."
Their solution? "We had to knock out all this concrete... it's glass, complete glass floor to ceiling." This is a band-aid approach that addresses immediate safety concerns while highlighting the need for comprehensive solutions.
Meanwhile, hospitalized inmates create another resource drain: "We average eight to ten hospital posts every day," requiring two corrections officers to continuously monitor a single inmate. Simple arithmetic reveals the impossibility of sustaining such a system without adequate staffing and infrastructure investment.
We've created a system that criminalizes poverty and addiction, then acts surprised when jails become de facto hospitals without medical resources. It's almost as if the entire design ensures failure by default.
Rural Safety: The Forgotten Communities
While urban areas struggle with resource constraints, rural communities exist in a different dimension of neglect altogether. The conversation turned to the tragic Christmas Eve murder of a good Samaritan in Redington, where response times are measured not in minutes but in geographic impossibilities.
"For us to get there, as the crow cries, our Vail station, which is over at Houghton and I-10, is probably the closest station," Nanos explained, mapping the twisted geography of rural response. "But neither of those is the fastest way to get there. What is the fastest way to get there? Through Catalina City, all the way back into Pinal County, all the way around the mountain, and coming in through San Manuel."
The infrastructure challenges compound the staffing crisis: "Once you get off that pavement, you are slowed down in the bog down," creating response times that render emergency assistance nearly theoretical rather than practical.
When Buckmaster asked about deputizing local citizens—harking back to frontier justice models—Nanos shut down that regression firmly: "No, no, no. I don't want to go backward." Instead, he outlined collaborative approaches with neighboring jurisdictions and technological solutions to address coverage gaps.
Yet the underlying truth remains: our system of public safety inherently privileges urban and suburban spaces while treating rural communities as afterthoughts. Their tax dollars flow into the same coffers, but the services they receive exist largely on paper rather than in reality.
We've created a two-tier system of safety where your zip code determines whether help comes in minutes or hours—if at all. Then we wonder why rural Americans feel abandoned by institutions that were never designed to serve them equally.
The Next Chapter: Politics After Grijalva
As the program neared its conclusion, TucsonSentinel.com editor Dylan Smith outlined the special election process that will determine Grijalva's successor in Congressional District 3. Governor Hobbs must call for the election within 72 hours, setting up a compressed campaign season that will likely culminate in late September when a new representative could finally be seated.
The political calculus has already begun, with several prominent names emerging as potential successors. Pima County Supervisor Adelita Grijalva—the congressman's daughter—sits atop many speculative lists. Tucson Mayor Regina Romero, whose husband served as Grijalva's longtime district director, has worked diligently to build her national profile (after this show, Romero posted that she would not run).
Secretary of State Adrian Fontes, with southern Arizona roots in Nogales, might also consider entering the fray.
Whoever pursues the seat faces logistical hurdles created by the compressed timeline. Signature gathering—normally spread across months—must be condensed into weeks, creating advantages for candidates with existing political infrastructure and name recognition.
While important, the electoral mechanics ultimately feel secondary to the larger question: Who will carry forward Grijalva's unflinching progressive legacy in a political landscape increasingly hostile to principled positions?
A Community Perseveres
Even as political machinations unfold, Tucson's cultural heartbeat continues uninterrupted. The Tucson Festival of Books—expected to draw over 130,000 attendees—showcases the community's intellectual vibrancy. The St. Patrick's Day Parade and Festival and the Tucson Japanese Festival offer moments of cultural celebration amid political transition.
These community gatherings serve as vital reminders that a resilient tapestry of human connections exists beneath the political machinery and systemic failures. While institutions may falter, communities endure through shared experiences and collective resilience.
Breaking Through Bureaucratic Barriers
Despite the bleak landscape outlined throughout this conversation, hope persists in the form of clear-eyed leadership willing to name problems honestly rather than hide behind political platitudes. When Sheriff Nanos prioritizes data over drama and human dignity over enforcement theater, he demonstrates the possibility of governance that serves reality rather than perception.
True progress begins not with grand promises but with honest assessments of broken systems. Only by acknowledging the fundamental flaws in our approach to public safety—from staffing models to infrastructure investment to resource allocation—can we begin building alternatives that actually serve all communities with equity and compassion.
The path forward requires more than voting; it demands sustained civic engagement through community organizations, attendance at county supervisor meetings, and questioning budget priorities that fund political theater while neglecting basic safety infrastructure. Call your county supervisors and ask specifically how they're addressing jail conditions and rural response times. Attend public forums on public safety funding and demand data-driven approaches rather than politically convenient solutions.
Most importantly, reject the false choice between "tough on crime" rhetoric and practical public safety investments. Both the staff working in impossible conditions and the communities they serve deserve better than the systemic neglect currently masquerading as fiscal responsibility.
What specific improvements to rural emergency response do you believe should be prioritized in Pima County? And how would you balance the need for jail infrastructure improvements with expanding alternatives to incarceration for those with addiction and mental health issues?
Share your thoughts in the comments below—your perspective matters in building the community-centered safety systems we all deserve.
Quotes:
"I never knew about this task force, never heard about it. I heard like you did. I got a news media release on the 25th." — Sheriff Chris Nanos reveals he wasn't consulted about Governor Hobbs' border security initiative despite overseeing the county with the largest border with Mexico.
"You gave $100 million to this already by their statements. And you have another $28, $30 million to give. First of all, that $100 million never came to me." — Sheriff Nanos, highlighting the disconnect between border security funding and actual local law enforcement needs.
"The call percentage is 0.001% on that border. It would be silly for me to deploy a team of men or women and equipment." — Sheriff Nanos, using data to explain why border enforcement isn't a priority compared to other public safety needs.
"When I left here in 2016, we had 1686 personnel... When I came back in 2020, we had 1282. What happened? 400 people left us." — Sheriff Nanos, describing the dramatic staffing decline during his predecessor's term.
"People were sitting on the floor below the wall and dying because they're out of sight." — Sheriff Nanos, describing the deadly design flaws in the jail's previous detox cells that required emergency renovation.
"If you're losing one deputy a week, and it takes you 40 weeks to get them trained, I have to hire 40, get them all to graduate, just to stay even. I gain none. To gain one, I have to hire 41." — Sheriff Nanos, explaining the mathematics behind the staffing crisis.
People Mentioned and Notable Quotes:
Raúl Grijalva — Late Congressman representing Arizona's 3rd District who recently passed away from complications related to lung cancer treatment. Sheriff Nanos: "This is a man who had principles and always never feared standing up for those principles."
Chris Nanos — Pima County Sheriff discussing staffing shortages, jail conditions, and border enforcement. "It's never the sheriff's job" to handle immigration enforcement.
Katie Hobbs — Arizona Governor who announced a border security task force without consulting Sheriff Nanos. No direct quotes, but subject of criticism for allocating $100 million to border operations without addressing local law enforcement needs.
Bill Buckmaster — Host of the Buckmaster Show who conducted the interview with Sheriff Nanos.
Dylan Smith — Editor of TucsonSentinel.com who participated in the interview and provided information about the special election process to replace Congressman Grijalva.
Adelita Grijalva — Pima County Supervisor and daughter of Congressman Grijalva, mentioned as potential candidate for her father's seat.
Regina Romero — Tucson Mayor mentioned as potential candidate for Grijalva's seat, noted for having "worked to build her national profile" and being married to Grijalva's longtime district director.
Adrian Fontes, Arizona Secretary of State, with roots in Nogales, has been mentioned as a potential candidate for Grijalva's seat.
Mark Napier — Former Pima County Sheriff, indirectly referenced by Nanos: "Sheriff Napier came in and made his decisions... but that time COVID hits, other things happen. The labor market and labor workforce just collapse."
