Hunter Biden’s sworn claim of having no assets, set against a history of high pay and heavy bills, is at the center of a legal fight over a $17 million law firm tab and who should actually pay for his defense.
Hunter Biden told lawyers under oath that his family “doesn’t have any money” and that he owns nothing of value beyond paintings he created himself. That declaration appears in a deposition transcript released by his legal team as a dispute with the law firm Winston Taylor over a roughly $17 million bill moves toward litigation.
The firm says those invoices covered years of representation across criminal cases, congressional probes, and defamation suits tied to his public messes. Winston Taylor also tried to tap Democratic donors to help with bills, a move that would have meant party allies subsidizing a president’s son.
The deposition includes a blunt exchange captured in reporting: the passage reads exactly as it was stated in the transcript. “My family doesn’t have any money, and it’s not their debt anyway. I don’t own anything of any value other than, and I don’t know the value of it, my paintings which I painted myself. So, that’s it. And I don’t even have any other assets at all, stocks, bonds, anything like that, savings accounts.” That is a sworn statement and a hard one to square with his past earnings.
“My family doesn’t have any money, and it’s not their debt anyway. I don’t own anything of any value other than, and I don’t know the value of it, my paintings which I painted myself. So, that’s it. And I don’t even have any other assets at all, stocks, bonds, anything like that, savings accounts.”
He added later, also under oath, “I don’t have any assets. I don’t own a car. I don’t own a phone.” Those exact words leave prosecutors and creditors with a stark choice: accept his claim or contend that he lied under penalty of perjury. If the latter, consequences would reach beyond an unpaid invoice.
“I don’t have any assets. I don’t own a car. I don’t own a phone.”
Winston Taylor says it took on a messy, high-profile client and expected payment for top-tier legal work. The firm points to repeated invoices and to attempts it made to find funds, including pursuing a $1.7 million defamation judgment that might be collectible, though enforcement looks complicated if the debtor is overseas.
From a Republican viewpoint, the situation spotlights double standards and costly consequences. Hunter’s seven-figure Burisma board salary, his public spending on drugs and luxury living, and later legal protections like the presidential pardon raise questions about accountability and who ultimately pays the tab.
The family’s broader finances complicate the picture. Reports note former President Joe Biden earned more than $400,000 a year in post-service pensions and faced property taxes on a $2.7 million Delaware home, plus personal debt the press pegged at roughly $800,000 after leaving office. Those numbers underscore why creditors would expect family support, even if Hunter denies it.
Hunter’s attorneys argue Winston Taylor knew he could not pay when the firm signed on and that both sides agreed to “work something out.” That defense shifts blame to the lawyers who accepted the work on credit, but it does not explain how a man who once commanded seven figures could now claim nothing at all.
The federal pardon from his father removed criminal exposure but left private obligations untouched, and litigation over unpaid legal fees will now test how far financial protections extend in practice. A deposition on the record forces answers under penalty of perjury, and courts will sort out whether invoices or veracity carry the day.
This fight also illustrates how political connections get monetized in lawyering decisions. Winston Taylor saw value in Hunter’s ties and tried to leverage them for funds, and the firm now seeks to recover fees in court. The outcome will matter for creditors, political operatives, and anyone tracking whether accountability reaches the powerful.
The transcript itself does not settle where historical income went or how assets were spent, but it does make a stark claim part of the official record. Either the former Burisma board member burned through a fortune and now owns nothing, or he faces the serious legal problem of a sworn falsehood. Creditors and the public will be watching which story the courts accept.
