Munitz Promise Angered Board

A month before he resigned as chief executive of the J. Paul Getty Trust, Barry Munitz angered some board members by promising his controversial chief of staff a severance payment in excess of $350,000 without first informing the board, trustees said Monday.

Munitz promised Jill Murphy severance worth twice her annual salary at a time when he was under investigation by both the state attorney general and the Getty board, and despite a clear warning from the board that he should seek prior approval for any controversial moves, several trustees said.

By acting “unilaterally” to benefit a staff member who had come to symbolize his divisive administration, Munitz turned trustee sentiment against him as they were weighing his future at the Getty, several officials said Monday.

The board approved Murphy’s payment, agreeing with the recommendation of its outside attorney, Ronald Olson, who felt Munitz had made a legally binding agreement with Murphy that could be costly and troublesome for the trust to fight in court, an official said.

At least one trustee objected to the payment.

“There was no reason for any kind of severance,” said Getty trustee Ramon Cortines, who said he voted against the move. “I said, ‘I’m not going to be blackmailed.’ It had never been discussed with the board. Therefore, I did not think it was right.”

Cortines said the revelation was “the final straw” in his personal deliberations about Munitz’s continuing role at the Getty. One former Getty official said the tone of conversations on the board changed notably after the revelation, with several of Munitz’s supporters expressing frustration with his behavior.

Getty board chairman John Biggs acknowledged Monday that Munitz’s decision to reward Murphy with a lucrative severance package caused concern among board members and played a role in the board’s hardening position toward him. But the revelation was not “the final straw” in Munitz’s decision to resign last Thursday, days after the report of the findings of Olson’s team.

“It was the totality of everything,” Biggs said. “Let’s face it. Barry made the decision himself.”

Still, the decision came at a critical moment, and sent a signal that Munitz was not likely to change his behavior, officials said.

As the Getty’s chief executive, Munitz had the authority to offer severances to Getty staff members but had been cautioned that with a state attorney general’s investigation into trust finances, he needed to run everything by the board, Biggs said.

“We told him we wanted to see everything,” Biggs said Monday. “He went ahead and did it without coming to the board.”

Munitz could not be reached for comment.

With his abrupt departure last week, Munitz became the exception to the Getty’s frequent practice of paying departing officials generous severances. Rather than receive money, the embattled CEO agreed to forgo more than $2 million of severance, and pay the trust $250,000 to settle “unresolved disputes.”

But like most Getty severance deals, Munitz’s agreement contained a confidentiality clause that prevents the trust from detailing the findings of Olson’s report.

The Getty would not identify what those disputes were, but Munitz’s use of the Getty’s resources for personal benefit is the subject of the attorney general’s review.

Murphy is the latest of more than a dozen senior Getty officials to receive severance agreements under Munitz, records show. A wide range of Getty expenses are now being scrutinized by the California attorney general’s office.

The single largest severance payment was $3 million to former museum director Deborah Gribbon, who quit in 2004, citing differences with Munitz. The amount -- first disclosed by the New York Times -- is nearly seven times her annual compensation in 2004, records show.

Like Murphy’s severance, Gribbon’s appears to have come after she left voluntarily and was accompanied by a confidentiality agreement that prevents the Getty from discussing its terms or motive in detail.

USC business professor Kevin J. Murphy, an expert in executive compensation, said high-ranking executives in the private sector can generally expect to get three times their salary as a severance.

By comparison, Gribbon’s is a “tremendously high number,” especially for a nonprofit that is more akin to a university than a corporation, said Murphy, who is not related to Jill Murphy.

Getty spokesman Ron Hartwig said Gribbon’s severance was no secret to board members: “Ms. Gribbon’s agreement was approved by the board after lengthy discussions at two separate meetings.”

Cortines said that he supported Gribbon’s severance as an acknowledgment of her many years of service at the trust, and a recognition for the struggles she had had with Munitz.

“I thought it was the end of her career, and I felt we owed it to her based on the acrimonious relationship between Dr. Munitz and herself,” Cortines said, adding that the sum was based on about five years of her pay and perks.

Several officials said the board approved the $3-million payment unanimously.

Gribbon declined to comment.

Getty policy generally allows for employees to receive two weeks’ pay per year of service, but most of the agreements negotiated during Munitz’s tenure far exceed that, records show.

On average, they were paid about 150% of their salaries, records show -- well within what experts say is normal in private enterprise. The Getty also provided some of the executives additional expense accounts, individual tax assistance, moving expenses and outplacement help.

Like many large organizations, the Getty has included nondisclosure clauses in severance packages, which have forbidden those leaving the Getty to express themselves about Munitz and other senior Getty officials. Murphy’s agreement, among the highest of those reviewed by The Times, has come as a shock to some current and former employees, who harbor bitter memories of her eight years at the Getty.

Munitz met Murphy while eating at the Jammin’ Salmon, a Sacramento restaurant where she worked in the mid-1990s. Soon after, he hired her to work for him when he served as chancellor of the California State University system.

He brought her to the Getty shortly after he arrived, creating the position of chief of staff, a title more common in political circles. As the gatekeeper for Munitz, Murphy quickly became a powerful and feared figure among staff.

In her early 30s and with no background in the arts, she was perceived to have the power to make or break people’s careers at the Getty. That power increased as Munitz spent more time away from Los Angeles on trust business.

Munitz has acknowledged Murphy has “sharp elbows” but defended her as brilliant and effective.

Three years ago on a board retreat in London, Getty trustees confronted Munitz about Murphy’s increasingly divisive presence, Cortines said. Munitz promised to do something about it, but little changed, the trustee added.

Murphy announced in August she would leave the trust by the end of the year, saying she had been inspired by a book she had read about ending world poverty by 2025. “It is an inspiring goal, and I hope to find some way to contribute toward making it a reality,” she said in a statement.

She was due to leave the Getty by the end of December. But Biggs said the board agreed to let her stay until the end of January. She has been retained as a consultant to gather documentation for the Getty’s legal department, which is responding to the attorney general’s request, a Getty spokesman said.

“Jill Murphy is available if requested by the general counsel to work with the legal teams in connection with the ongoing investigation,” Hartwig said. “Any work she performs will be compensated at an hourly rate.”

Murphy did not respond to requests for comment.

Times staff writer Christopher Reynolds contributed to this report.