[Editor’s note: The following is an interview with former U.S. Rep. George Santos and his defense attorneys conducted by New York City attorney Cary London.]
When George Santos walked out of federal custody earlier this month, blinking at the cameras like a man emerging from witness protection, many asked: “How is this guy still in the news?”
Just six months earlier, the former congressman from New York’s 3rd District had been sentenced to 87 months in federal prison for wire fraud and aggravated identity theft — the tail end of a saga that included misusing campaign funds, fraudulent unemployment claims, and more aliases than a Netflix con artist. He was ordered to pay $373,000 in restitution and, for a brief moment, seemed destined to spend the rest of the decade as inmate #92471-054.
Then came the unexpected plot twist: a presidential commutation by President Donald Trump. By Halloween, George Santos was a free man again, returning to a world that had long since written him off.
So what does a newly liberated ex-congressman do next? I sat down with Santos and his three defense attorneys (Joseph Murray, Andrew Mancilla and Robert Fantone) for a wide-ranging conversation that touched on constitutional theory, commissary snacks, ethics and AI.
“You’re Going Home!”
When I asked Santos how he learned of his commutation, he grinned like a man who still couldn’t quite believe his luck.
Santos: I was in the computer room, next to the cafeteria where all the TVs are. I was filling out my commissary sheet when another inmate came in and said, ‘Hey George, you’re on TV!’ I ignored him. I was on TV a lot in jail. Then, about 20 minutes later, I heard this roar from the cafeteria. Someone yelled, “You son of a b***h, you’re going home!’ I ran over and saw the headline: “President Trump Commutes Sentence of Former Congressman Santos.” I called my husband — he said: “It’s true! I just got off the phone with President Trump.” And then I just cried. For an hour straight. It was over. I was going home.
What does rehabilitation look like for a man who made fabrication his brand? Santos insists he’s reformed.
Santos: I’m focused on two things: prison reform and public engagement. What goes on inside jails in this country is medieval — I’m working with advocacy groups to change that. And I’m also doing speeches, appearances, and PR work. If people want to hear from me directly, they can book me on Cameo.
When asked what he learned about the justice system from the other side of the aisle, Santos pivoted from remorse to rhetoric.
Santos: We’ve let judges legislate from the bench and prosecutors act like politicians. The feds have a 92% conviction rate, and not because they’re brilliant, but because they stack the deck. “Innocent until proven guilty” is a joke when the media convicts you first. Judges have way too much discretion in sentencing. I met a 72-year-old in prison doing nine years for tax evasion. It was his first offense and he paid full restitution — and still got nine years in jail. That’s not justice.
If Santos is the headline, his defense team is the fine print — and it’s in the fine print where the law actually lives. I asked his lawyers if the government overcharged in this case to coerce a plea — or if the facts were as egregious as the indictment suggested?
Robert Fantone: The case was absolutely overcharged. They misused 18 U.S.C. § 1028(a) [identity theft] to weaponize the indictment. Most of the so-called ‘stolen money’ were Republican National Committee expenditures to help elect him. The funds went into campaign operations — polling, outreach — not George’s pocket. There was no victim. [The Justice Department] made one up to inflate the case.
Joseph Murray: It’s “Trump style” prosecution — charge the man, then find the crime. The problem was it was a victimless crime.
It’s a bold claim that’s popular among white-collar defense attorneys: prosecutors too often mistake bad optics for bad intent. When asked if they are worried about a state prosecution by the [Nassau County District Attorney’s] office for the same underlying charges – Santos lawyers did not balk for even a second.
Murray: The Nassau County DA has no case. The state statute they’re eyeing applies only to executive-branch pardons — not commutations, and not legislators. George was in Congress, not the Cabinet. Double-jeopardy and federal preemption bar any re-litigation.
“Since first learning of George Santos’ actions, I have been at the forefront of bringing him to justice. I am proud of the work my office has done, and the conviction achieved in partnership with the U.S. Attorney’s office. While the office cannot comment on ongoing investigations, suffice it to say that I remain focused on prosecuting political corruption wherever it exists regardless of political affiliation.”)
In a twist worthy of Silicon Valley, Santos’s team says artificial intelligence played a critical role in securing justice. Following the plea, Andrew Mancilla, disillusioned by the case’s politics, paused his practice to develop an AI platform to offer a solution:
Andrew Mancilla: We were up against a prosecution and a court that had stopped listening. The case wasn’t about law anymore — it was about optics, politics, and power. Decisions felt driven by legacy, not justice. After the plea, I built an AI litigation platform called OurFirm.ai to analyze decision-makers’ behavioral patterns and shape more effective advocacy. It worked. OurFirm AI drafted the first version of our pardon application that ultimately led to the commutation.”
You don’t have to like George Santos — and plenty don’t — to admit he’s a uniquely American character: audacious, adaptable, allergic to shame. From Congress to conviction to commutation, his story reads like a civics lesson crossed with a reality show. He insists he’s focused on reform. His critics say he’s chasing relevance. His lawyers call him a survivor. Maybe he’s all three.
In an era when truth itself seems negotiable and public trust is on life support, Santos may not be the hero democracy asked for — but he’s a vivid cautionary tale about what happens when law, politics, and performance art collide. Because if Washington is a stage, George Santos is proof that even after the curtain falls… some actors still find their spotlight.
(When asked by amNew York Law to comment on Murray’s about the Nassau County DA’s office about the possibility of state charges being brought against Santos, a spokesperson referred to a statement that District Attorney Anne Donnelly issued after Santos’ Oct. 17 pardon:
Cary London is a civil rights attorney in New York City.
