Alright, let’s get into it—because this isn’t just courtroom drama, this is a full-on ethics episode that has the whole Florida legal system sitting up straight. Judge Stefanie Moon, a polished Broward County circuit judge who cruised to reelection last year with nearly “65 percent of the vote”, is now caught in a very public reckoning. The allegations? Ethical lapses serious enough to prompt a formal disciplinary recommendation from the state’s “Judicial Qualifications Commission (JQC)”—and that’s no small deal.
The moment that launched this scandal was captured not on hidden tape or a private email, but in “open court”. Picture this: it’s February 2024, and Judge Moon, still in her robe after dismissing a case, turns to attorney Michael Jones and presses him about not returning a voicemail she’d left weeks earlier—asking him to join her “reelection committee”. Now, that voicemail itself? Technically legal. She made the call off-hours from her personal phone. But what she did next—”raising it inside her courtroom”—was a direct shot across the judicial ethics bow.
Jones says he felt *intimidated*. The JQC called it ““inherently coercive””, noting the power imbalance when a sitting judge questions an attorney about campaign involvement. And remember, this came moments after Moon ruled in his case. The optics? Not good.
But it didn’t stop there. Turns out, Judge Moon also donated over “$2,000” to partisan political groups—”Kamala Harris, Joe Biden, ActBlue”—which is a “big no-no” for sitting judges in Florida. That’s not just frowned upon, it’s “flat-out prohibited”. Judicial canons exist to keep politics out of the courtroom, and contributing to candidates violates the trust that judges will remain impartial arbiters—not backers of any one party.
Moon has now agreed to a “$2,115 fine” and a “public reprimand”, essentially a formal scolding on the record. She also expressed ““deep regret”” and has been cooperating with the investigation. But the final decision now rests with the “Florida Supreme Court”, which can accept or alter the JQC’s recommendations.
Unfortunately, there’s more. Moon also admitted to “improperly contacting a mental health counselor” who was set to testify in a stalking case before her. She called the witness “outside the presence of attorneys”, which the commission said “undermined procedural fairness” and could have compromised the integrity of the case. Again, the JQC didn’t recommend suspension or removal, citing her cooperation—but they made it clear: this is serious.
Supporters like attorney Valerie Small-Williams insist Moon is a “methodical, ethical judge”, suggesting her actions were more about “lapses in judgment” than malicious intent. But critics—including her former campaign rival Johnny Weekes—say the courtroom under Moon lacks “professionalism and fairness”. Weekes even cited an incident where Moon demanded he attend a Monday hearing, which *she herself* missed due to travel delays. Oof.
And for attorney Jones, the tension hasn’t faded. He’s now vowed to ask Moon to “recuse herself” from any of his future cases. “Not returning a judge’s call who’s looking for your help puts me in a bad situation,” he said. “I felt intimidated.”
Moon remains on the bench—for now. If the Supreme Court agrees with the JQC, she’ll be formally reprimanded but allowed to continue serving. If they go further, she could face harsher penalties. Either way, the damage to “public confidence in the judiciary” has already taken root.
What we’re witnessing here is more than one judge’s career on the line—it’s a sobering reminder of how “fragile judicial integrity really is”, and how quickly the perception of impartial justice can be clouded when ethics and ego collide.
