In federal court, silence isn’t neutral. It’s strategy. And Thomas McHugh knew that better than anyone.
McHugh wasn’t just some overworked defense attorney handed a complex case. He was a former AUSA, a man who knew the system from both sides, and who claimed to know the judge better than the facts.
And still, he stood down.
He never objected to the wire fraud theory — even though the documents proved the Texas Veterans Commission required mailed applications, not emailed ones.
He never questioned why Wes Keeling’s testimony conflicted with federal discovery — or why the prosecutor never corrected it.
He never filed a single motion to dismiss — not even when the indictment contradicted the government’s own evidence.
You can’t call that advocacy.
You call that complicity.
And the proof isn’t just in the transcripts. It’s in the silence. The missed objections. The passive stance while his own investigator’s past relationships with DOJ and the FBI went undisclosed.
Thomas McHugh didn’t just miss the lie. He let it speak for him.