CSN professor threatens essential fabric of Southern Nevada society

College of Southern Nevada psychology professor Gary Solomon seems harmless enough, but take my word for it: He's the most dangerous man in Las Vegas.

I know this city has a history of scary characters. Heavyweight knuckle-draggers and shark-eyed contract killers have been known to call this place home. They're choirboys compared to this Solomon fellow.

Those lesser tough guys might have rearranged your face or even sent you to an early grave, but they never threatened to change the troubled soul of Sin City. That's precisely what Solomon did recently.

After missing a week of classes for personal reasons, Solomon returned to school and offered his students a refund on their tuition for the time he'd missed. His action was praised by his students, some of whom e-mailed me to communicate their admiration.

It's not every day -- or any day, as far as I know -- that a college professor takes such a stand. Most universities only offer tuition refunds if classes are canceled for the full semester, and they'd never dream of plucking pay from the pocket of a professor.

"When their professors are unable to attend class, the students suffer, so I offered all my classes the amount of money equal to the amount of tuition they paid," Solomon says. "It speaks for me to the concept of morals."

He was trying to practice what he preaches in class. With no one to cover for him when he's gone, classes get canceled, students lose instruction time and wind up behind. Although no students have yet taken him up on his offer, they must appreciate his lesson in responsibility.

"That, to me, is worth the money that it would cost me," Solomon says.

Before you get carried away applauding Solomon for his selflessness, be aware that what he's done threatens Las Vegas all the way to its colorfully rotten core. He must be stopped.

I mean, what would happen if others around here started giving refunds for promised services they failed to render?

There would be a lot of lap dancers looking for work -- and a bunch of politicians, too. (As a rule, lap dancers are distinguishable from local politicians because they actually wear G-strings when customers flash the cash. Politicians, well, let's just say they aren't as modest.)

Solomon's act of lamentable morality strikes at the heart of the concept of "honest services," the quaint Victorian notion public servants and others ought to give the people what they pay for. It's old-fashioned, but for public officials and professionals such as doctors and lawyers it also can be a federal offense.

Those notorious ex-Clark County commissioners currently on an extended vacation at government expense were guilty not only of taking bribes, but of betraying their oath of office by failing to provide their honest services to local taxpayers. They paid a hefty price for doing essentially what generations of Southern Nevada politicians have gotten away with.

But the taxpayer doesn't get a refund. The U.S. attorney's office calls it a fine.

Down at U.S. District Court, attorney Noel Gage is on trial, in part, on allegations he failed to fulfill his lawyerly duties for a client. In cutting deals with the government, physicians John Thalgott and Benjamin Venger have already admitted gaming the system they took an oath to uphold.

While Gage's fate remains uncertain, the doctors figure to cough up a hefty "refund" in the form of settlements or forfeitures before they continue their careers.

And there's former University Medical Center CEO Lacy Thomas, accused of steering lucrative contracts to his friends, some of whom did next to nothing for the thousands they received. It's no crime to be mediocre in government. Even incompetence barely blips on the radar screen. But to deprive taxpayers of honest effort, well, that's unforgivable.

If we started asking for refunds, how much would we demand from the brain trust that designed Southern Nevada's roadways? I'm guessing it's in the millions.

Now you see why Solomon is the most dangerous man in Las Vegas. He must be stopped before his idea catches on.

Finally, some might wonder whether I should give refunds to readers who suspect me of slacking.

Never happen. That assumes I actually work for a living.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0295.