San Diego Has More Than A Pepper Spray Problem, It Has A Police Pandemic: 361 Pepper Spray Deployments, Millions In Settlements And Growing Questions For San Diego Police Department

San Diego Police officers deployed pepper spray in the Gaslamp Quarter 361 times in 2025, a staggering spike that has transformed the city's entertainment district into the epicenter of an increasingly contentious debate over police tactics, public accountability and whether a growing list of controversies surrounding the San Diego Police Department are symptoms of a much deeper institutional problem.

A recent investigation by Times of San Diego reporter Dorian Hargrove revealed that SDPD officers deployed pepper spray in the Gaslamp 361 times during 2025, more than double the total from 2024 and more than triple the number recorded in 2023. According to use-of-force data obtained by the publication, pepper spray use in the neighborhood reached its highest level since at least 2017, the earliest year for which comparable data is available.

The numbers are striking on their own. They become even more difficult to ignore when viewed alongside viral videos, excessive-force lawsuits, multimillion-dollar settlements, allegations of departmental cover-ups, stalled civilian oversight reforms, federal criminal charges against an officer, public records denials, press-access restrictions, and continued budget increases that have expanded police funding even as other city programs face cuts.

The pepper spray controversy did not emerge in a vacuum. It follows multiple highly publicized incidents over the past two years in which SDPD's Gaslamp enforcement teams have been accused of using aggressive tactics against crowds, bystanders and individuals attempting to document police activity.
In August 2024, videos obtained by CBS 8 showed officers pushing, tackling and pepper spraying people in the Gaslamp after bars closed for the night. One video appeared to show officers deploying pepper spray into a crowd while ordering people to back up. Another showed a man being tackled while witnesses claimed he was not acting violently. SDPD defended the officers' actions, stating that those arrested had been involved in a fight, interfered with officers and attempted to batter police personnel.

The controversy intensified again in May 2026 when multiple videos circulated on social media showing SDPD officers deploying pepper spray into a large crowd near Tacos El Gordo at Fifth Avenue and F Street as bars emptied into downtown streets. Witness Dalton Tingle told NBC 7 he was sprayed directly in the face despite not being involved in any altercation.

"I wasn't near them. I wasn't doing anything," Tingle said. "I was looking over while I was crossing the crosswalk."

Police offered a dramatically different account. SDPD said officers had responded to a large fight involving more than 100 people, that a man had been beaten unconscious, that a woman suffered a stabbing injury to her face, and that officers were overwhelmed by multiple simultaneous fights while awaiting backup. The department said emergency vehicles could not access the area because crowds and vehicle congestion had effectively shut down nearby streets. According to SDPD, officers used pepper spray while attempting to control active violence, establish a medical perimeter around injured victims and prevent assaults on officers.

The conflicting narratives became significant enough that SDPD launched an Internal Affairs investigation after complaints were filed regarding the incident. The department confirmed that videos circulating online had triggered scrutiny of officers' actions, while also cautioning that social media clips often fail to capture the entirety of an incident. Two arrests were made, multiple felony battery investigations were opened, and police reported that one officer was struck by a metal trash can while another was allegedly tackled by a suspect during the chaos.

The May 2026 incident was not an isolated controversy. In response to complaints and widespread circulation of the videos, SDPD confirmed that its Internal Affairs Unit launched an investigation into officers' actions. The department maintained that officers were responding to extraordinary circumstances, including multiple violent fights, a stabbing victim, an unconscious assault victim and crowds that had effectively blocked emergency vehicles from reaching the scene. But for critics, the investigation itself underscored a growing concern: why does the Gaslamp repeatedly generate viral videos showing officers deploying pepper spray into crowds while the department simultaneously insists the force used was justified?
This is not merely a pepper spray problem. It is a public trust problem.

According to the Times of San Diego report, SDPD officers used pepper spray 361 times in the Gaslamp in 2025. The next highest neighborhood was East Village, with only 18 deployments. Core-Columbia and Mission Beach followed with 8 and 7 incidents, respectively. That means one entertainment district accounted for a level of chemical force wildly disproportionate to the rest of the city.

Police say the Gaslamp is unique. It is one of San Diego's densest nightlife districts, packed with bars, restaurants, hotels, convention crowds, Petco Park spillover and thousands of intoxicated people on weekend nights. SDPD says officers assigned to the Gaslamp face large crowds, active fights, high levels of intoxication and more assaults on officers than any other police beat. The department also reported 196 assaults on officers in the Gaslamp in 2025, more than double the prior year.

Those facts matter. Any honest analysis has to acknowledge that the Gaslamp is a difficult policing environment. But difficulty is not a blank check.

SDPD policy permits pepper spray use against people engaged in active resistance, assaultive behavior or life-threatening behavior. The policy also restricts use of chemical agents in crowded areas for crowd dispersal unless authorized by a supervisor.

That policy language makes the Gaslamp numbers harder to ignore. If pepper spray is being used hundreds of times in one neighborhood, either the Gaslamp has become a nightly zone of extraordinary violence, SDPD officers have become far more willing to rely on chemical force, or both.

Recent legal claims and lawsuits suggest critics believe the department has crossed the line. Times of San Diego detailed claims involving George Medina and Araceli Ubina Viveros, who allege that SDPD officers used unnecessary force during a July 2025 incident near G Street and Fifth Avenue. According to the claim described by the publication, Medina was tackled, punched, pinned and pepper sprayed, while Ubina Viveros says she was pushed down after attempting to record the incident.
A separate lawsuit filed by Bryanna Andrade alleges she was pepper sprayed in October 2025 after verbally questioning officers during an unrelated encounter.

Those allegations remain claims, not findings of liability. But they now exist alongside videos circulating widely online showing SDPD officers deploying pepper spray in crowded Gaslamp scenes, reinforcing a perception that chemical force has become part of the department's nightlife management toolkit.

The concern becomes even sharper when viewed alongside other Gaslamp use-of-force cases. In January 2025, 40-year-old Gabriel Jesus Garza died outside Star Bar after an encounter with SDPD officers during what his family describes as an apparent mental health crisis. The San Diego County Medical Examiner later ruled Garza's death a homicide, citing cardiopulmonary arrest while physically restrained. Surveillance footage later published showed officers handcuffing Garza, placing him face down on the sidewalk, and maintaining body-weight pressure on him for nearly eight minutes before paramedics arrived and found him unresponsive without a pulse.

Garza's family filed a federal wrongful death lawsuit naming the City of San Diego, SDPD, Officer Jacob Phipps and Officer Noah McLemore as defendants. The complaint alleges the officers violated Garza's constitutional rights, used a dangerous restraint technique, and failed to de-escalate or medically assess him. The allegations remain pending in court, and the city has not admitted liability. But the case has become another major example cited by critics who argue that SDPD's problems in the Gaslamp extend well beyond pepper spray.

Officer Phipps has since become a recurring figure in public scrutiny over downtown policing. In July 2025, it was reported that local DJ Chad Allen accused Phipps of repeatedly stopping him over vehicle-modification violations that Allen said were later dismissed as baseless. Days later, Phipps appeared in another viral Gaslamp incident involving members of Sex Appeal Clothing Co., who alleged officers followed them, blocked their attempts to park, escalated the encounter, deployed pepper spray into a crowd and tackled one member face-first into a curb. The group said no criminal charges were ultimately filed.
Those incidents matter because they raise a basic supervisory question: when the same officer or same enforcement unit repeatedly appears in viral controversies, lawsuits or public complaints, what does SDPD do with that information?

The bigger problem for SDPD is that the pepper spray spike is landing amid one of the most damaging stretches for the department in recent memory.

Last week, federal prosecutors announced that San Diego Police Officer Brandon McGibbon had been indicted on five federal child sexual abuse counts involving three minor victims. Prosecutors allege McGibbon attempted to receive and produce child sexual abuse material and attempted to entice and coerce minors into sexual conduct. Reports have described potential victims as young as 13. McGibbon has pleaded not guilty and is presumed innocent unless proven guilty in court.

Still, the charges are catastrophic for a department already struggling with public confidence.

In December, the San Diego City Council approved a $30 million settlement to the family of 16-year-old Konoa Wilson, who was shot and killed by SDPD Officer Daniel Gold near the Santa Fe Depot in January 2025. Wilson had been running from gunfire when he emerged from a corridor and encountered Gold, who shot him twice. Attorneys for Wilson's family said he was shot in the back without warning. Surveillance and body-worn camera footage showed Wilson was fleeing a separate gunman; police later said a handgun was found concealed on him, but there was no indication in the released footage that he pointed or fired a gun at officers.

The settlement, which the city described as not an admission of liability, has been reported as one of the largest police killing settlements in American history.
That alone should have triggered a citywide reckoning over training, tactics, split-second shooting decisions, accountability and the cost of police mistakes. Instead, it became one more entry in an expanding ledger of SDPD controversies.

Then came the amended lawsuit from U.S. Department of Homeland Security agent Chu Ding, who alleges San Diego police engaged in a cover-up after an off-duty SDPD officer, Jonathan Ferraro, allegedly used a racial slur and body-slammed him in a Costco parking lot in July 2024. The lawsuit alleges witnesses called 911 to report that an off-duty officer had slammed someone to the ground, but SDPD's response quickly shifted into a department-protection posture. Ding says he was handcuffed, denied medical care for hours and forced to write an apology to the officer he says attacked him.

The city has not admitted wrongdoing. The District Attorney's Office declined to file criminal charges. But the allegations are explosive because they do not merely accuse one officer of excessive force. They accuse a department of circling the wagons.

That theme keeps recurring.

San Diego voters approved Measure B in 2020 to replace the old Community Review Board on Police Practices with a stronger Commission on Police Practices. Nearly six years later, a recent San Diego County Grand Jury report concluded that the commission has still not been fully implemented as voters intended. The report found the commission continues operating under interim rules, lacks independent investigators, lacks sufficient legal support, lacks access to SDPD internal affairs databases, lacks subpoena power and lacks a permanent executive director.

In other words, San Diego voters asked for stronger police oversight. Years later, they still do not have it in full.
Transparency concerns also extend to public records. SanDiegoVille previously filed a California Public Records Act request seeking internal affairs files, complaint history, body-worn camera footage, dispatcher records and related materials concerning Officer Phipps and the Garza incident. The City denied the request in full, invoking broad investigative exemptions and declining to provide redacted records or segregable factual content. SanDiegoVille challenged that determination, arguing that California law mandates disclosure of records involving police uses of force causing death or great bodily injury. The City's response was brief: "The San Diego Police Department stands by its determination of the exemptions cited."

That refusal matters because public trust collapses when the city asks residents to accept official explanations while withholding the records that would allow the public to test those explanations. When a man dies after being restrained by officers, when the Medical Examiner classifies the death as a homicide, and when the public asks for records involving the officers and incident, blanket nondisclosure only deepens suspicion.

At the same time, SDPD is receiving more money. Mayor Todd Gloria's proposed Fiscal Year 2027 budget would give the San Diego Police Department more than $700 million, a more than $15 million increase over the current year. The proposal comes as the city has warned of budget shortfalls and considered painful cuts elsewhere, including arts and culture funding, public services and community programming.

The department's defenders will argue that more money is needed because staffing is strained, officers are overworked and public safety demands are growing. But that argument becomes harder to accept when viewed beside recent overtime revelations.

A Times of San Diego investigation last month found that SDPD Officer Jason Costanza earned $285,741 in overtime in 2025 alone, amounting to 144 percent more than his annual salary. From 2021 through 2025, Costanza collected more than $1.28 million in overtime. SDPD paid $47.7 million in overtime in 2025.

A police department that produces historic settlements, viral use-of-force videos, officer criminal indictments, stalled oversight, excessive force lawsuits, public records fights and staggering overtime payouts is not simply underfunded. It is structurally troubled.

San Diego residents are being asked to accept a familiar bargain: give police more money, more discretion, more technology, more overtime and more institutional deference, and safety will follow. But the public is entitled to ask what it is actually buying.

Is it buying safety when pepper spray deployments in the Gaslamp reach 361 in a single year? Is it buying accountability when the civilian oversight commission still lacks the tools voters expected it to have? Is it buying professionalism when an officer is federally indicted in a child exploitation case? Is it buying public trust when taxpayers pay $30 million after a teenager is shot while running from gunfire? Is it buying transparency when journalists and bystanders are increasingly forced to rely on viral videos, lawsuits and public records requests to understand what happened?
That transparency problem became more pronounced earlier this year when SDPD abruptly discontinued its longstanding Media Identification Card and press parking placard program. The department framed the move as an administrative update, but the practical effect was less access, more friction and a new discretionary landscape in which on-scene decision-making can tilt against the press, especially when coverage is critical.

For decades, the credential and blue parking placard helped local journalists cover breaking news, emergency scenes, protests, fires, police activity and major incidents in real time. SDPD's own prior procedures recognized that approved media representatives could be permitted through police or fire lines when safety and investigations were not jeopardized. Eliminating the program, without replacing it with a clear standardized alternative, leaves access more dependent on individual officers at the very moments when independent reporting is most important.

That decision matters because police departments should not be the primary narrators of their own controversies. Independent reporting is one of the few remaining tools capable of piercing official statements, curated body camera releases and carefully managed press conferences. Encouraging journalists to follow SDPD's own social media channels for incident updates is not a substitute for reporters being able to safely reach and document scenes themselves.

Now, as Gaslamp pepper spray videos spread online, the department's relationship with public observation is again at issue. Recording police in public is not interference. It is a constitutional safeguard. When bystanders are pushed, sprayed or intimidated while documenting force, the issue is no longer only the force itself. It is whether the department accepts public accountability in real time.

SDPD says officers face increasingly volatile conditions in the Gaslamp. That may be true. But if conditions have deteriorated to the point that chemical force is being used hundreds of times in one neighborhood, 361 times in 365 days, then city leaders should not simply defend the department. They should demand an independent review.

How many of the 361 deployments involved active assaults on officers? How many involved people already restrained? How many involved bystanders? How many occurred after verbal criticism or filming? How many were reviewed by supervisors? How many resulted in discipline? How many officers account for the largest share of deployments? Are the same officers also generating complaints, lawsuits or use-of-force reports? How many deployments occurred near bars with repeated calls for service? What role do alcohol-serving establishments, private security and Gaslamp crowd-management strategies play?

The public should not have to guess.

San Diego also needs to confront whether the Gaslamp has become a containment zone for chemical policing. A downtown entertainment district cannot function as a place where tourists, service workers, residents and bystanders are routinely exposed to pepper spray because the city has allowed nightlife management to devolve into force management.

Police will say pepper spray is a lower-force option. Compared with batons, tasers or firearms, that is true. But "less lethal" does not mean harmless. Pepper spray causes burning, coughing, temporary blindness, respiratory distress and panic. In crowded areas, its effects can spread beyond the intended target. For people with asthma, medical vulnerabilities or limited ability to move away, chemical agents can be dangerous.

When used appropriately, pepper spray may help officers avoid more severe force. When overused, it becomes a chemical shortcut. San Diego is now at the point where the shortcut appears to be the system.

The city's political leadership cannot keep treating SDPD controversies as isolated flare-ups. A department does not face this many simultaneous scandals by accident. Pepper spray spikes, overtime extremes, federal criminal charges, fatal shooting settlements, in-custody death lawsuits, allegations of cover-up, public records refusals, stalled oversight and narrowed press access all point toward a deeper institutional problem.

That does not mean every officer is corrupt, abusive or unprofessional. Many are not. Many officers do difficult work under dangerous conditions and are themselves placed in impossible positions by political leaders who refuse to address root causes of disorder, addiction, untreated mental illness, nightlife chaos, homelessness and downtown safety.

But defending individual officers does not require ignoring institutional failure. A healthy police department welcomes oversight because it strengthens legitimacy. A healthy city demands data before writing larger checks. A healthy democracy protects journalists and bystanders who document government power. A healthy public safety system does not require taxpayers to repeatedly finance the consequences of preventable force.

San Diego is not there.

Instead, the city has a police department asking for more money while generating more questions. It has a mayor and council willing to expand police funding while the oversight body voters demanded remains incomplete. It has a nightlife district where pepper spray has become statistically abnormal by any citywide comparison. It has legal claims alleging force against people who were recording or questioning officers. It has a $30 million settlement that should haunt every future budget hearing. It has a federal child exploitation indictment involving one of its own officers. It has an in-custody death case in the Gaslamp involving prone restraint and a homicide finding by the Medical Examiner. It has a department that ended a media credentialing system during a period of heightened scrutiny.

That is not a series of unrelated headlines. It is a pattern.

San Diego has more than a pepper spray problem. It has a police accountability crisis, a budget priorities crisis, a transparency crisis and a leadership crisis. The Gaslamp numbers merely make the fumes impossible to ignore.

Originally published on June 1, 2026.