Is AI Deciding Judge Basden’s Cases? Judge Barnhart Blocks a Records Request

Clallam County Superior Court Judge Simon Barnhart is enforcing a restriction I believe is unjustified and obstructs public scrutiny: the court will process my records requests in a queue, only one at a time. 

I have made a total of seven requests this year, working full time as a journalist whose primary focus is this court.

Now, in denying a request about possible AI use in Judge Brent Basden’s work, Judge Barnhart has warned my wife and other requesters of possible court action if he suspects them of disguising requests made on my behalf.

The danger of that restriction is apparent in my request for emails between Basden and Johnny Watts, the former drug-court coordinator whose arrest led to a federal drug prosecution involving the FBI. As of October 6, I have waited 197 days without receiving those emails. 

When a court takes that long on one request, requiring others to wait their turn can put whole lines of reporting on hold. 

The AI Records Denial

On September 28, Megan, my wife and colleague at The Olympic Herald, requested AI prompts and outputs created or used by Judge Basden and former family court commissioner Brian Parker.

She named ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini and other AI applications. The request covered December 2022 through September 28, 2026, for Basden, and January 2024 through March 2026 for Parker.

Court Administrator Lacey Halberg replied October 6 with a statement she identified as Barnhart’s response. He classified the requested material as research records and wrote:

“Any such records constitute judicial work product, and are ‘chambers records’ under GR 31.1 that are not subject to disclosure or production. Accordingly, this request is denied.”

The public has an interest in how judicial decisions are reached. Using software to organize information is different from relying on it to supply the reasoning for a ruling. Litigants should be able to understand what role, if any, AI plays in decisions affecting their lives.

The court should explain its practices and safeguards. A claim that particular records are confidential does not answer that broader question.

Who Is Handling Public Records

Judge Barnhart’s role in issuing this denial deserves an explanation. In my August 5 column about the court administrator’s office, I identified Halberg as the public records officer and called for separating that function from the administrator’s job.

Combining the two puts the official running the office in charge of access to records about its work.

The court’s published Policy No. 27, dated November 22, 2019, assigns Superior Court records processing to the court administrator.

The records officer reports to the presiding judge, who designates a backup if the officer is unavailable. GR 31.1 expressly provides for internal review by the presiding judge or a designated judge. Judicial oversight is therefore part of the process.

But the October 6 email presents Barnhart’s statement as the response to Megan’s request, rather than a ruling on a petition for internal review. Halberg delivered the message; Barnhart supplied the denial and warning.

Megan asked directly whether he had taken over as public records officer or whether Halberg still held that role.

The answer matters because Barnhart has already supplied the decision a requester would be challenging.

If he has assumed the records-officer function, the court should identify that designation and explain who will conduct a fresh internal review. If Halberg remains responsible, she should explain her role in a denial presented as the judge’s decision. The email leaves those responsibilities unclear and supplies no instructions for seeking review.

Seven Requests and a Warning

Barnhart’s response was more specific about the limits placed on my reporting.

Barnhart described Megan’s request as nearly identical to one I submitted to the county the same day.

He said I appeared to be using her to circumvent the court’s earlier determination that my GR 31.1 requests would be processed “sequentially, and one at a time,” to manage their volume.

The response cites volume without identifying the staff time, costs or other demands that justify the restriction. If seven requests warrant this treatment, the court owes readers an explanation of the actual burden and why unrelated requests cannot move forward alongside each other.

Then came the warning:

“Any future requests by [Megan] or any other person that are suggestive of an effort to deceive the Court as to the identity of the true requesting party may be denied, or may be subject to other appropriate action by the Court.”

Megan submitted her request under her own name and openly copied me. She replied: “Although we are married and work for the same newspaper, we are in fact not the same person.”

Our connection was visible. Journalists working for the same newspaper may pursue the same records.

If Judge Barnhart believes there was deception beyond the similarity of the requests, he should identify it.

Instead, the warning reaches “any other person” and leaves the threatened action undefined. Coming from a judge, those words carry institutional weight.

Anyone considering a related request now has reason to wonder whether the Clallam court will treat it as an attempt to circumvent the restriction on me.

In my view, that uncertainty is itself a deterrent. Another requester must now weigh the possibility of unspecified court action before pursuing records related to my reporting. I believe the warning is intended to make people hesitate.

The Watts Case and the Missing Emails

The Watts case shows how much is at stake. As I reported June 4, federal authorities had taken the former drug-court coordinator into custody, and state prosecutors moved to dismiss the local charges as the federal prosecution proceeded. Sheriff Brian King told me his office had been coordinating with the FBI and the U.S. Attorney’s Office.

The federal complaint I reported on the next day was supported by an affidavit from FBI Special Agent Ted Halla. It alleged that investigators found substantial quantities of narcotics in a bedroom associated with Watts and that he admitted selling methamphetamine, cocaine and fentanyl. Watts pleaded not guilty to the federal drug charge on June 5.

For the courthouse, that should have been an institutional reckoning. A man it had entrusted with coordinating programs for people struggling with addiction was now accused by federal authorities of distributing drugs. His guilt is for a court to decide. The public’s right to examine how he was selected, supervised and entrusted with authority should not have to wait for that verdict.

The federal prosecution made my pending request for his communications with Basden more pressing. How did the court supervise Watts, and what concerns, if any, reached Basden? Their correspondence could help answer those questions. The months without those records have kept me from examining that part of the court’s work.

On March 23, after Watts’s arrest by local law enforcement at an Agnew residence, I requested communications from 2018 through 2024 between Basden and Watts, the former Adult and Juvenile Drug Court coordinator. Halberg denied the request March 27 on chambers-records grounds. I sought internal review April 2.

On April 29, Barnhart sent the request back, directing the administration to determine whether responsive emails existed and whether Watts had acted in an administrative or chambers staff capacity. That corrected the blanket denial.

As of October 6, I have received no Basden–Watts emails in response to the request. That is 197 days after I asked and 160 days after Barnhart directed further action.

The court’s published records policy calls for the records officer to comply immediately with a reviewing judge’s directives. Barnhart’s remand required further work, not immediate release of every email. The court should account for what it has done in those 160 days and say when it expects to finish.

A Lawsuit Stalled at the Fee Waiver

A separate fight over search-warrant logs has required me to sue the court for access. I requested logs associated with Parker and Basden’s earlier service as a commissioner on February 27. Six weeks later, on April 10, the administration denied access and said its response was the final communication I would receive about the request.

I sought internal review July 6. Barnhart upheld the denial July 13, concluding that the logs were chambers records. As I reported August 7, I filed suit against the court and Halberg in her official capacity.

Even that challenge is stalled at the filing-fee stage. Barnhart initially objected to the format of my fee waiver declaration. On September 28, I confirmed that I had filed updated paperwork in person. After I followed up October 5, Halberg replied October 6 that Barnhart had taken the fee-waiver motion “under advisement.” She gave no decision date.

In my experience, fee-waiver requests are ordinarily heard or decided the same day, occasionally the next. The court has told me it will take no action on my other requests for relief until the fee issue is resolved. That leaves my effort to challenge withheld records waiting on a preliminary decision from the same judge who upheld the denial.

As I reported April 21, Barnhart’s wife, Mia Barnhart, filed a civil protection-order petition on April 6 and received a fee waiver and an order allowing her to proceed without payment that day. 

Mine remains undecided nine days after I confirmed filing the updated paperwork. Barnhart should explain what still requires consideration and when he will rule.

The Cost of Delayed Records

Questions about incomplete production have also required follow-up. As I documented August 5, the court cooperatively supplied guardian-ad-litem records in response to my March 2025 request, but I found no Basden assignments among them.

When I asked about that gap on August 4, 2026, Halberg said the request was unclear and asked me to identify the records specifically.

A one-at-a-time restriction gives those delays consequences beyond any single request. If the court keeps one inquiry open for months, others can wait behind it. The pace of one search can determine when I am able to investigate a different subject.

GR 31.1 already addresses unusually burdensome requests, directing courts to communicate resource constraints and attempt to agree on a manageable scope and response schedule.

Judge Barnhart should explain why those procedures are insufficient and how the court prevents an old or disputed request from holding up unrelated reporting.

The court should also account for the correspondence its own denials generate. Internal reviews, follow-up emails and litigation consume time on both sides.

When the court attributes its burden to a requester, it should explain how much of that work comes from disputes over its own handling of requests.

The Court Owes the Public Answers

The AI request fits this pattern of resistance to scrutiny. Records remain out of reach, challenging a denial requires more time and paperwork, and Barnhart’s latest response extends a warning to other requesters.

I believe the combined effect is to discourage the public from filing records requests.

GR 31.1 protects chambers records, and some judicial deliberations properly remain confidential. It also says court and administrative records do not become chambers records merely because a judge possesses them. The status of particular AI records requires applying those rules to the facts.

Washington’s Board for Judicial Administration approved AI principles in February 2025 stating that “technology is not a substitute for human judgment.” Those principles recognize possible benefits while insisting on independent judgment, ethical obligations, transparency and accountability.

The court should put those principles into practice by explaining whether it uses AI, which uses it permits, how generated material is checked and how sensitive information is protected. Litigants also deserve to know when AI’s contribution to a decision will be disclosed to them.

Judge Barnhart should withdraw the warning of “other appropriate action,” explain who makes and reviews records decisions, and give a concrete account of the work behind the delays.

He should rule on my fee-waiver application and justify the one-at-a-time restriction with specific workload information.

Judge Basden should answer the question that prompted the latest request: does AI contribute to his judicial work, and if so, how?

Covering this court is my job. Records requests are part of doing it. The judges’ decisions can change people’s families, freedom and livelihoods, and the public deserves sustained scrutiny of that power. I am exploring all legal options.