When Eugene-based Double Sided Media requested police records for one officer, the city’s response was simple: pay us $2.5 million.

The outlet asked for records related to Officer Justin Peckels. Oregon’s public records law says citizens have a right to see how their government operates. It doesn’t say governments can price that right out of existence, but that’s exactly what cities are doing.

The Fee That Says No

Eugene claims processing the Peckels records will cost $2.5 million. Let’s be clear about what that number means: it’s not a real estimate. It’s a rejection dressed up in spreadsheet language.

Public records laws exist because transparency matters. When police have power over people’s lives, the public gets to know how they use it. Cities can charge “reasonable” fees for record searches, a provision meant to cover actual costs and prevent frivolous bulk requests. Eugene is wielding that provision as a weapon.

The city hasn’t explained how one officer’s personnel file generates a seven-figure processing bill. They don’t need to. The point isn’t to get paid. It’s to make the request go away.

A Pattern, Not an Accident

This isn’t new. Police departments nationwide have discovered that the best way to avoid accountability is to make records functionally unavailable. Delay requests for years. Redact documents into uselessness. And when journalists or activists won’t give up, hit them with a bill they can’t possibly pay.

Small newsrooms are easy targets. Double Sided Media doesn’t have $2.5 million lying around. Most local outlets don’t. They’re already operating on thin margins, often covering stories larger outlets won’t touch. That makes them valuable. It also makes them vulnerable.

The strategy works because fighting back is expensive. Challenging the fee means lawyers, litigation, and years of appeals. Even if Double Sided Media wins eventually, they lose now. The chilling effect is immediate.

What the Law Actually Says

Oregon’s public records law requires fees to be reasonable and directly tied to actual costs. Courts have struck down excessive fees before, but each challenge requires resources most requesters don’t have.

The law also says governments should presume records are public unless there’s a specific exemption. Personnel records have some protections, but they’re not blanket. Disciplinary actions, use of force incidents, and complaint investigations are often disclosable. Cities know this. They also know most people won’t fight to find out what’s in there.

Eugene’s move forces Double Sided Media into an impossible choice: drop the request or go broke trying to enforce a right that’s supposed to be guaranteed.

Why This Officer, Why Now

We don’t know what’s in Peckels’s file. That’s the whole point of the request. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s something the public should absolutely know about. The size of Eugene’s fee suggests they’d prefer nobody finds out.

Double Sided Media presumably had a reason to ask. Journalists don’t request random personnel files for fun. Something pointed them toward Peckels. Whatever it was, Eugene’s response ensures it stays buried unless someone with serious money decides it’s worth pursuing.

The Larger Fight

Public records fights are playing out everywhere, but police accountability requests draw the most resistance. Cities will release meeting minutes and budget documents without much fuss. Ask about officer conduct and suddenly processing costs skyrocket.

This isn’t about protecting officer privacy. Personnel laws already do that. This is about preventing scrutiny.

When cities can functionally nullify records laws by charging whatever they want, transparency becomes a privilege for whoever can afford it. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Public records aren’t a product. They’re a check on power.

Eugene’s $2.5 million price tag is an insult to that principle. It tells residents their right to know has a price, and that price is deliberately out of reach. It tells journalists that covering local police is only possible if you’ve got deep pockets or low expectations.

Most importantly, it works. Unless someone with resources steps in, Double Sided Media won’t get those records. Other outlets will think twice before asking. And Officer Peckels’s file will stay exactly where Eugene wants it: locked away from public view.