The New York judge who ordered Donald Trump to pay more than $450 million in a civil fraud case is talking publicly about the experience for the first time, describing death threats, round-the-clock security, and a level of public attention he never sought and says he does not miss.
Justice Arthur Engoron of the New York Supreme Court sat down with CBS News for a wide-ranging interview that aired in late June 2025. It marks his first extended public comments since the trial concluded in early 2024. Engoron, now 77 and recently retired from the bench, reflected on the personal toll of the case, the legal reasoning behind his decisions, and the bizarre celebrity that followed him into grocery stores and onto city sidewalks.
For conservatives who watched the trial as an example of politically motivated lawfare against a sitting presidential candidate, the interview raises a pointed question: Does Engoron's post-retirement media tour reinforce concerns that the case was always as much about spectacle as about law?
New York Attorney General Letitia James brought the civil fraud suit against Trump, his adult sons Donald Jr. and Eric, and the Trump Organization. The state alleged that the defendants inflated the value of real estate assets on financial statements used to secure favorable loan terms and insurance rates. The case was not a criminal prosecution. No jury was involved. Engoron presided as the sole finder of fact in a bench trial that stretched across several months in late 2023 and into early 2024.
In February 2024, Engoron issued a sweeping ruling. He found Trump liable for persistent fraud under New York Executive Law Section 63(12), a statute that does not require proof of criminal intent. The judgment imposed a disgorgement penalty of approximately $355 million, plus pre-judgment interest that pushed the total beyond $450 million. Engoron also barred Trump from serving as an officer or director of any New York corporation for three years and imposed similar restrictions on Donald Trump Jr. and Eric Trump.
Trump and his legal team have appealed the ruling. They have called the case a politically driven attack orchestrated by James, a Democrat who campaigned on investigating Trump. A New York appellate court heard oral arguments earlier this year, and a decision remains pending. The appeal challenges both the size of the penalty and the underlying finding of fraud, arguing that no bank lost money on the loans in question and that financial statement disclaimers shifted due-diligence responsibility to lenders.
Engoron told CBS News that the threats against him began almost immediately after the case gained national attention. He described receiving death threats serious enough to require a full-time security detail provided by the New York State court system. Armed officers accompanied him throughout the trial and for months afterward.
The judge said the security presence changed his daily life in ways he found disorienting. He could not walk to work alone. Officers screened his mail. He described one threat that specifically referenced his home address. Engoron told CBS News he did not consider stepping aside from the case despite the threats.
"I was not going to let anyone bully me off the bench."
He acknowledged that Trump's public criticisms of him during the trial, including social media posts and comments to reporters outside the courtroom, contributed to the volume and intensity of threats. Trump repeatedly called Engoron a "rogue judge" and described the proceedings as a "witch hunt." Engoron said he tried not to read Trump's posts but conceded that staff and security briefed him on statements that contained language they considered threatening or that could incite others.
Engoron described the sudden fame with a mix of bemusement and discomfort. He told CBS News that strangers recognized him on the street, in restaurants, and at the gym. Some approached to thank him. Others cursed at him. He recalled one encounter at a Manhattan grocery store where a woman told him he was "saving democracy." Another person, he said, called him a "disgrace" in the checkout line.
"I was the most famous judge in America, for a while. I didn't want to be."
The judge said he understood that the attention was a byproduct of the defendant's identity, not his own. He noted that he had served on the bench for more than two decades before the Trump case and had handled thousands of matters without anyone outside the legal community knowing his name. The contrast, he said, was jarring.
Engoron pushed back on the perception, popular among Trump supporters, that he relished the spotlight. He said he declined interview requests during the trial and for more than a year afterward. He described the CBS interview as a decision he made only after retiring, partly to address what he called mischaracterizations of his conduct and reasoning.
A central criticism from Trump's defense team and conservative legal commentators has focused on the size of the penalty. Trump's lawyers argued at trial and on appeal that the disgorgement figure was grossly disproportionate because Deutsche Bank and other lenders were repaid in full, on time, and with interest. No lender testified that it was defrauded or suffered a loss.
Engoron told CBS News that the penalty reflected the ill-gotten benefit Trump received by using inflated valuations, not the losses suffered by counterparties. He explained that New York's Executive Law 63(12) allows disgorgement of gains obtained through fraudulent practices regardless of whether a victim suffered a direct financial loss. The statute, he noted, is a regulatory enforcement tool, not a compensatory damages framework.
He said the calculations were based on expert testimony presented by the attorney general's office, which estimated the savings Trump entities realized through more favorable interest rates and insurance premiums. Engoron acknowledged that reasonable legal minds could disagree about the appropriate figure but said he applied the law as written.
Trump's appellate team has argued that the statute was never intended to produce penalties of this magnitude in a case with no victim losses. They have also challenged Engoron's pre-trial summary judgment ruling, in which he found fraud as a matter of law before the trial began, leaving only the question of penalties and additional findings for the trial itself. Critics called that procedural move an indication of predetermined outcome.
The trial itself became a daily cable-news event, driven in part by Trump's decision to attend in person on multiple occasions and to use the courthouse steps as a platform for political messaging. Engoron described the courtroom atmosphere as tense but said he worked to maintain order.
He addressed several flashpoints directly. One involved his principal law clerk, Allison Greenfield, who became a target of Trump's social media posts after Trump published a photo of her with Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer at an unrelated event. Trump suggested the photo proved bias. Engoron imposed a gag order restricting Trump from making public statements about court staff. Trump violated the order, and Engoron fined him $15,000.
Engoron told CBS News that the attacks on Greenfield were "completely out of bounds" and that she had no role in his judicial decision-making beyond the standard duties of a law clerk. He said the gag order was narrowly tailored to protect staff safety and did not restrict Trump's ability to criticize him or the case itself.
Trump's team challenged the gag order as a First Amendment violation. An appellate court upheld it during the trial but the issue remains part of the broader appeal.
Engoron retired from the bench at the end of 2024, when he reached the mandatory retirement age for New York Supreme Court justices. He told CBS News he had no plans to write a book or pursue further media appearances beyond the interview. He described retirement as quiet and said he spends time reading, walking, and playing guitar.
Asked whether he had any regrets about how he handled the case, Engoron said he did not. He said he followed the evidence, applied the statute, and issued a ruling he believed was legally sound. He acknowledged that the appellate court might modify or reduce the penalty but said that prospect did not trouble him.
"That's what appellate courts are for. I did my job. They'll do theirs."
He declined to comment on the broader political debate about whether the case constituted lawfare. He said judges should not engage with political characterizations of their work and that his ruling spoke for itself.
The case now sits with the New York Appellate Division, First Department. Oral arguments took place earlier in 2025, and legal observers on both sides expect a decision in the coming months. The appellate panel could affirm Engoron's ruling in full, reduce the penalty, modify the corporate officer bans, or order a new trial on certain issues.
Trump's legal team has signaled that if the appellate division does not grant meaningful relief, they will seek review from the New York Court of Appeals, the state's highest court. The defense has also raised the possibility of federal constitutional challenges, though no federal filing has been made as of the interview's airing.
For Trump, the financial stakes remain enormous. The bond he posted to pause enforcement of the judgment during appeal reportedly cost tens of millions in fees alone. A full affirmance would require payment of the judgment plus accumulated interest. A reversal or significant reduction would hand Trump a major legal and political victory heading deeper into his second term.
Engoron's decision to speak publicly, even in retirement, is unlikely to quiet conservative critics who viewed the trial as a coordinated effort to damage Trump politically. Letitia James campaigned explicitly on holding Trump accountable. The case moved through a New York City courtroom before a judge in a jurisdiction where Trump is deeply unpopular. No jury weighed the evidence. And the penalty dwarfed anything previously imposed under the same statute.
None of that means the ruling was wrong as a matter of law. But it does mean the institutional credibility questions will persist until the appellate courts have their say. Engoron can retire to his guitar and his books. The system he served still has to answer for whether this case was law enforcement or something else entirely.
When judges become celebrities, the courtroom has already lost something. The appeals process will determine whether the law lost something too.
