California Gov. Gavin Newsom's office says he will finally release years of withheld tax returns by the end of July, a disclosure that comes only after persistent press pressure and amid active federal investigations into his inner circle.
Spokesperson Izzy Gardon confirmed to The California Post that the records will be made public by Friday, the final day of the month. The confirmation arrived two weeks after the governor's office first assured the outlet that "the remaining returns will be shared this month." How the returns will be released, posted online for public review or handled some other way, remains unclear.
That ambiguity matters. The last time Newsom's team made tax documents available, in 2021, the process was anything but open. The Los Angeles Times reported that journalists were given roughly one hour to review a stack of documents about two inches thick, then had to leave. No photocopying. No photography. Just a brief, supervised look at a pile of paper.
Spokesperson Diana Crofts-Pelayo, in an email to The Post, tried to get ahead of the release:
"They're unremarkable and entirely consistent with what Californians already know from his annual Form 700 disclosures."
If the returns are so unremarkable, the obvious question is why Newsom sat on them for years.
In 2019, Newsom signed a California law requiring candidates for governor to publicly disclose five years of federal tax returns as a condition of appearing on the state's primary ballot. He framed the measure as a rebuke of Donald Trump, who had refused to release his own returns before and after his first presidential run in 2016.
During his 2018 gubernatorial campaign, Newsom released multiple years of returns dating back to 2011. He also pledged to continue releasing them annually while in office. The last returns he made public, released in 2022, covered tax year 2020 and showed that he and his wife, Jennifer Siebel Newsom, earned nearly $1.5 million and paid about $480,000 in federal taxes.
Most of that income came from Newsom's ownership interests in wineries, restaurants, hotels, and other hospitality businesses, holdings placed into a blind trust after he became governor. Because of that arrangement, the returns no longer identify which specific businesses generated income or losses.
After tax year 2020, the annual releases simply stopped. No explanation was offered. Newsom's office has not provided a reason for the gap, and the governor himself has been evasive when pressed.
At a news conference earlier this month, The Post asked Newsom directly why the returns had not been released. His response: "I know you love taxes." When a reporter reminded him that he had publicly contrasted himself with Trump on financial transparency, Newsom said:
"And you will have all those new tax returns, because, I have no reason why you haven't gotten them already."
That answer raises more questions than it settles. If there was "no reason" for the delay, then the delay itself demands an explanation, one Newsom has never provided.
The timing of Newsom's disclosure gap coincides with a period of intensifying federal scrutiny around his administration. Dana Williamson, Newsom's former chief of staff, pleaded guilty in May to conspiracy to commit bank and wire fraud, filing a false tax return, and lying to the FBI. Williamson is scheduled to be sentenced September 17.
Separate federal investigations involve both Newsom and Jennifer Siebel Newsom. A source told The Post that one probe is examining the first partner's taxes. The scope and status of the investigation into the governor himself remain unclear from public reporting.
Newsom has called the probes a "witchhunt," accusing the Trump administration of weaponizing the Justice Department against a likely 2028 presidential contender. Crofts-Pelayo echoed the dismissive tone in her email, writing:
"The Governor publicly released his tax returns while he was on the ballot and is happy to go above and beyond by releasing the remaining years as well."
Framing a years-late release as going "above and beyond" is a stretch. Newsom set the standard himself, both by personal pledge and by signing it into state law. Falling short of your own benchmark is not generosity. It is a broken promise, belatedly honored under pressure.
Newsom's political troubles extend well beyond tax filings. His personal history has drawn renewed scrutiny after Ruby Rippey's Vanity Fair essay revived longstanding questions about his conduct and judgment.
Democrats released Trump's tax returns, covering 2015 through 2020, in late 2022, just before relinquishing control of the House to Republicans. Newsom cheered that move and built part of his national brand on the idea that public officials owe voters financial transparency.
But the governor's own record tells a different story. He stopped releasing returns after 2020, offered no public explanation, deflected press questions with jokes, and only confirmed a release date after weeks of follow-up reporting. The gap covers what may be the most consequential financial years of his governorship, years during which his former chief of staff admitted to tax fraud and federal investigators turned their attention to the Newsom household.
Rippey's account of Newsom's personal conduct has also added to the portrait of a politician whose public image does not always match private behavior. She broke her silence on the affair and alleged that political allies pressured her to remain quiet, claims that have complicated Newsom's standing within his own party.
Several unanswered questions hang over Friday's deadline. Which tax years will the release cover, 2021 through the present, or some narrower window? Will the public get direct access to the documents, or will journalists again be herded into a room for a timed review? And will the returns shed any light on the financial activity that federal investigators are reportedly examining?
Newsom's office has not answered any of those questions. The spokesperson's strategy appears to be preemptive dismissal: call the returns "unremarkable," invoke the Form 700 disclosures voters have already seen, and hope the story dies on arrival.
Meanwhile, Newsom's 2028 ambitions face headwinds from multiple directions. Recent polling shows Kamala Harris pulling ahead of him in early Democratic primary surveys, and the federal probes cast a shadow that no amount of spin can fully dispel.
The governor who built a national profile partly on demanding financial openness from others went half a decade without meeting his own standard. Whether the returns themselves contain anything damaging is almost beside the point. The delay already told voters what they needed to know about how seriously Newsom takes the rules he writes for everyone else.
When a politician signs a transparency law, campaigns on transparency, and then goes quiet for five years, the silence speaks louder than any tax form.
