A graphic representing Judicial Panel Attendance. Courtesy: Mason Bindemann
Mason Bindemann is a third-year accounting student at Ohio State and founder of Lanarchy, a student gaming collective.
This year’s Undergraduate Student Government elections were marred by disqualifications, appeals and high-stakes procedural drama. At the heart of it all was the disqualification of Daizhon Cox, a case that exposed deep structural flaws in USG’s Judicial Panel.
Presiding over this controversy was Chief Justice Matt Okocha, a member of Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, whose inconsistent recusal decisions raised serious ethical questions about the integrity of the Judicial Panel.
The Cox Disqualification
The story begins with Almuti v. Cox & Ward, the first case of the cycle, and a flashpoint that would shape all that followed.
Cox, a polarizing candidate whose brash, theatrical style often drew criticism, found himself accused of falsifying documents. But whatever flaws he brought to the table, the process that led to his disqualification raises real concerns.
According to Cox, he was set up by a rival campaign. He approached a student he didn’t know for a signature on a circulator sheet. The student declined, but said they knew others who might sign, and asked if they could circulate the sheet themselves using Cox’s name.
Cox agreed, unaware he’d just triggered the first in a series of missteps that would eventually sink his campaign. But there was a catch: no one ever actually collected any signatures. The violation never materialized. Still, the panel seemed to believe that merely agreeing to the scheme, just expressing willingness to break the rules, was enough to constitute a punishable offense.
In legal terms, this wasn’t actual fraud, it was a conspiracy to violate, with no signatures collected and no harm done. Still, Cox was found guilty of falsifying documents, a Type V violation carrying automatic disqualification.
Recusal in Name, Not in Practice
During Cox’s hearing, Chief Justice Matt Okocha recused himself, citing a conflict of interest: Cox’s running mate, Michael Ward, was Okocha’s fraternity brother.
Yet despite the recusal, Okocha remained in the courtroom throughout, offering what he described as “procedural guidance” during breaks. The panel ruled to disqualify Cox.
The appeal hearing brought its own set of troubling dynamics. Cox didn’t attend, but Ward did. So did Okocha, this time no longer recused and fully presiding.
The panel now appeared more receptive to arguments that the original violation was technical and caused no real harm.
Before the panel could rule on the remand, Oliver Griffith filed a second complaint, again pointing to circulator errors. The ruling in Griffith v. Cox invalidated just enough signatures to bring them below the 500-signature threshold.
This new complaint raised new factual questions. Yet Okocha, despite the same unresolved conflict of interest, remained in control.
Excuses and a Broken Quorum
Recent email exchanges between Okocha and me reveal just how flimsy the retroactive justifications have become. When I pressed him about his shifting recusal posture, he first claimed appeals were “procedural” rather than substantive. When that logic collapsed, he pivoted to “scheduling issues.”
But if scheduling was truly the constraint, why invoke it when the Judicial Panel requires only 5 of 9 members for a quorum? If that’s what dictated his participation, it’s a damning indictment of a body so disengaged that it can’t function without ethically compromised leadership.
The numbers speak for themselves. The five most active justices attended 65% of hearings; the other four? Just 23%. It’s not an even bench, it’s a court where even the bench has bench players.
More revealing than the excuses is the sequence itself. Okocha sat out early, likely to avoid the appearance of bias. But once Ward showed up at the appeal looking to salvage the ticket, Okocha reappeared and took charge. After Ward grew disillusioned with Cox, Okocha stayed on, less as a neutral arbiter than as someone helping his friend close the book.
Perception as Reality
Taken together, these patterns erode public confidence in the Judicial Panel’s impartiality. Maybe that wasn’t the intent. But in judicial ethics, perception matters as much as substance.
When a Chief Justice recuses from a case involving his fraternity brother, then returns to preside over further proceedings with that same person present, it damages the integrity of the process, regardless of motive.
USG’s Judicial Panel has no binding conflict-of-interest policies, no required recusal documentation, no minimum participation standards and little external accountability. In that vacuum, justice becomes a matter of discretion, not principle.
Student government is supposed to train future leaders in law and public service. If this is the model, we’re teaching them that ethics are optional, relationships outrank rules and “scheduling issues” can excuse nearly anything.
