Three million children endure the trauma of a child abuse investigation every year, almost always because of a false report. Now we know more about how the children of Pete Buttigieg became two of them.

Pete Buttigieg (Photo by Gage Skidmore)

TheWashington Post has done excellent work advancing the story of the malicious, false allegation of child abuse against Pete Buttigieg. A few points stand out: 

● What the Attorney General doesn’t seem to know 

The story notes that the Michigan Attorney General’s office is investigating the handling of the false allegation against the family – in other words, they’re investigating the investigation. That’s because, a spokesperson says, “Common sense would have shown that this targeted report plainly lacked credibility on its face. Before children are separated from their families, due diligence should be exercised to ensure some nexus exists between the source and the family, or that the complaint comes from a reputable, reliable, or verifiable source.” 

There’s just one problem. Michigan law prohibits the exercise of common sense. If an allegation even “minimally” meets the definition of child abuse or neglect in state law, it must be investigated. It doesn’t matter if there isn’t “some nexus … between the source and the family.” It doesn’t matter if the complaint doesn’t come “from a reputable, reliable, or verifiable source.” 

That is not unusual. It’s one reason that of the two million reports alleging child abuse that are investigated each year, more than 80% turn out to be false reports. That’s true even though in most states a report is “substantiated” if a caseworker simply checks a box on a form guessing that it is at least slightly more likely than not that the abuse or neglect occurred.  Among “substantiated” reports, the overwhelming majority allege neglect – which, of course, often means poverty. 

Because screening for credibility is not allowed, and for many other reasons, the process about which the Attorney General now claims to be upset - the process the Post story aptly describes as stemming from “a vague and unsubstantiated allegation …” is not unusual. It is the norm. 

It happens to nearly three million children every year, more than 145,000 in Michigan alone. That’s an average of more than 8,000 children’s families investigated nationwide every day. But those families are overwhelmingly poor and disproportionately nonwhite.  In fact, by the time they turn 18, more than one-third of all children and more than half of all Black children will endure what the Buttigieg children endured – and for many, if not most, it will be far worse. 

The only thing unusual about the Buttigieg case is that the children victimized by the police and by what should be called the family police were the children of a prominent public figure. 

● The only families the attorney general seems to care about are celebrities 

Although those most often affected almost always are unknown, almost always are poor and are disproportionately nonwhite, the Attorney General seems to have no interest in them. 

According to the Post story, the goal of the Attorney General’s office is to 

reduce the risk of false allegations of child abuse “against other well-known residents and elected officials as the newest form of threat or intimidation,” the spokesperson said. 

The rest of you – the other 397 children whose families are investigated on an average day in Michigan based on reports that are overwhelmingly false, don’t seem to count for much. 

● To make everything worse, just add Indiana 

When I first read about what happened to the Buttigieg children, I thought to myself: At least they don’t still live in Indiana. Because while the Michigan system is bad, the Indiana system is among the nation’s worst – investigating families and tearing them apart with a hair trigger. Details are here. 

But it turns out Indiana’s police and child welfare agency were involved – and, sure enough, they managed to make things worse. For starters … 

● It wasn’t an anonymous report after all – well, not at first 

(A note about the appearance of “appears": Though the Post has done superb work trying to trace how all this came about, because of the number of agencies involved and their ability to keep so much secret, some things remain uncertain – hence the frequent appearance of the word “appears” in this section.)

Up to now, everyone, myself included, has been writing that the initial call accusing  Buttigieg was anonymous. Apparently not. It appears that the first place the caller phoned was Indiana’s child welfare agency (or as it should be called, the family police agency), the Department of Child Services.  At that point, it appears, she did indeed identify herself. The Post even was able to track her down. 

It further appears that, as in Michigan, hotline screeners in Indiana are not allowed to screen out a 
report based on the credibility of the reporter. If the allegations meet the statutory definition of abuse and neglect, and if there’s enough information to find the family, it must be screened in. 

We don’t know how Indiana police got involved, but odds are it's because the allegations were heinous and lurid – involving allegations so severe that regulations may advise or even require law enforcement involvement. 

It appears that both Indiana DCS and Indiana police passed on the information to their Michigan counterparts, who then rushed to the Buttigieg home. None of these four agencies did any checking beforehand. In the case of the CPS agencies, they probably were not allowed to, and the police likely followed their leads. But that doesn’t explain why it was days before anyone from Michigan even bothered to try to get more information from Indiana. 

● How did it become an anonymous report? 

In Indiana, according to DCS, “State law requires DCS to protect the identity of those reporting abuse or neglect allegations. DCS keeps the name and contact information of all report sources confidential.” 

According to the Post: 

Ron Green, a spokesperson for the Indiana Department of Child Services, said the agency followed “established procedures,” including not sharing information about callers. After this article first published, Green said the agency’s policy does allow for caller information to be shared with other child welfare agencies and law enforcement. [Emphasis added.] 

So why didn’t that happen? 

If the agency’s own flack could make that mistake in a newspaper interview, is it possible that whoever sent the report from Indiana to Michigan made the same mistake? 

What is clear is that none of these four agencies seemed to have much interest in tracking down the reporter or checking her credibility. It’s one more indication of the extent to which these agencies are inured to the harm their investigations do to the children they’re supposedly protecting and to their families, and the extent to which they treat those families with contempt. 

Except now, maybe, when they’re famous.

Child welfare in New Mexico: Which metrics matter when it’s YOUR child?

 

New Mexico has a child-confiscation-at-birth policy, in which newborns who test positive for certain substances are automatically taken away instantly and held for at least 72 hours and often far longer. A prominent proponent of the policy loves to claim that, since it took effect, no child has died. And, she says, “there is no other metric that matters.” 

The first thing to know about the claim is that it needs a huge qualifier: No child has died yet. Because the research is overwhelming that, between the high rates of abuse in foster care and the emotional trauma that will lead to all sorts of rotten outcomes, in typical cases placement in foster care actually increases the odds that a child will die.  It’s even possible to calculate the odds. It won’t necessarily be right away; it may be years from now. That will make it easy for those advocating for policies like confiscation-at-birth to avoid accountability. But it won’t make the children any less dead. 

And yet some New Mexico media love that “only metric that matters” line. But then, journalists in New Mexico, like everywhere else, are overwhelmingly middle-class and disproportionately white. That makes them largely immune from intervention by agencies that should be called the family police. 

But what if that were not the case? Suppose, hypothetically, you’re a New Mexico journalist, or lawmaker, or other prominent public figure and you’ve found yourself in the position of, say, Pete Buttigieg. Suppose someone who didn’t like one of your bills, or one of your stories, decided to file a false, malicious child abuse report accusing you of the most vile crimes against children. And now, suppose New Mexico had an analogous policy for these kinds of cases: Suppose that policy said: If the allegation is sufficiently heinous, we take the child first and investigate later. 

So now, it’s happening to you, and the caseworker is at your door. The dialogue might go like this: 

YOU: But I’m innocent. You can see the children are unharmed!

CASEWORKER: It doesn’t matter. We don’t evaluate case-by-case; it’s a blanket policy. The allegations are heinous, so we take the children. That way, no child will die, and that’s the only metric that matters.

YOU: But there’s abuse in one-quarter to one-third of foster homes; the rate in group homes and institutions is even worse. And this is New Mexico, where children get moved from home to home at one of the highest rates in the nation. Think of the chances they’ll be abused.

CASEWORKER: That metric doesn’t matter.

YOU: But if it drags on long enough, they’ll fall behind on their education.

CASEWORKER: That metric doesn’t matter.

YOU: They’ll be more likely to wind up in the juvenile justice system.

CASEWORKER: That metric doesn’t matter.

YOU: They’re more likely to be unemployed.

CASEWORKER: That metric doesn’t matter.

YOU: They’re more likely to wind up in jail than to graduate from college.

CASEWORKER: That metric doesn’t matter.

YOU: They’re more than four times more likely to die before age 20 than even comparably maltreated children left in their own homes!

CASEWORKER: That metric doesn’t matter. 

So what do you say then? Do you say: Oh, well, you’re right. Whether children die – right away – is the only metric that matters, so of course I’ll sacrifice my child to this policy and let my children suffer all those other consequences. Or do you fight like hell? And do you start to wonder how many scores, maybe hundreds of other children have been taken needlessly and subjected to the harm from all those other metrics – because those metrics – and those harms – don’t matter? 

When you ignore people who already are stereotyped and stigmatized (using the same tactics Trump uses to stereotype and stigmatize immigrants, by the way), it’s easy to dehumanize them. When you dehumanize them, it's easy to convince yourself that they don’t love their children the way you love yours, and to convince yourself those children don’t love their parents the way your children love you. So it’s easy to convince yourself that all those other metrics – about all the harm done by separation – don’t really matter for them. You can even wrap yourself in the self-righteous conviction that you’re saving the children instead of putting them at greater risk. 

Perhaps the New Mexico journalists and lawmakers most keen on confiscation-at-birth and the whole take-the-child-and-run mentality should try speaking to families who’ve gone through needless removal (families with all perspectives, not just one parent put forward by proponents to confess her sins and express her gratitude for having her child taken). Then they might reconsider their love for an approach that only applies to people like them and not to people like us. They might even find out that the people like them are full-fledged human beings who typically love their children as much as people like us love ours. 

And then they might even ask those who say fatalities are “the only metric that matters” why they support approaches that, in addition to all that other harm, actually make it more likely that children will die.

NCCPR news and commentary round-up, week ending July 28, 2026

● The Washington Post has done a lot to advance the story of the trauma inflicted on Pete Buttigieg’s family as a result of a malicious false report of child abuse.  Among other things, the Michigan Attorney General’s office has announced it will be investigating the investigation. That’s because, a spokesperson says, “Common sense would have shown that this targeted report plainly lacked credibility on its face.” 

Well, yes. But apparently the Attorney General doesn’t know that Michigan law prohibits the exercise of common sense. If an allegation even “minimally” meets the definition of child abuse or neglect in state law, it must be investigated – something we pointed out in this commentary for Bridge Michigan 

● There’s another excellent commentary on the Buttigieg case from Viviana Bonilla López of the ACLU Women’s Rights Project in The 74. Bonilla López points out: 

What set Buttigieg apart was not that his family was treated unjustly, but that he had the money, legal representation and public support that families with fewer resources will never have. 

● People often ask for a formula for successfully reducing needless foster care, as though there is a checklist of interventions that fits every case. But the places that succeed know that the actual formula is: “whatever it takes.” Case in point: this story from The Imprint on how the Osage Nation dramatically reduced foster care, at one point even going six months without a single child being taken. 

● There is fury, as there should be, over the New Mexico family police agency effectively abandoning a 15-year-old at the Mexican border. But some of those screaming loudest may have helped create conditions that set the crisis in motion. I have a blog post about it. 

● The Imprint reports on some good news from Santa Clara County. In that county, children have been ripped from their families at a pace so frantic it’s been the worst foster-care panic anywhere in America in decades. The new cases so overloaded the agency providing family defense that they said they’d have to shut down. But the County is stepping in with additional funding to save most of the work. Most, but not all. One of their strongest programs, providing defense counsel before a case ever reaches court, won’t be funded unless someone else steps up. 

● The news is uglier in San Bernardino County. There, two lawsuits filed by victims of horrific abuse are a reminder of why private agencies should not get virtual immunity from such suits. Nor should they get a bailout to help pay their insurance premiums. I have a blog post about it. 

● One of the children allegedly abused in these cases, in her case fatally, was disabled. The Imprint reports on efforts by the Trump Administration to make sure we all know less about how disabled children and parents fare at the hands of the family police. Mother Jones also has a story. 

In this week’s reminder that The Horror Stories Go in All Directions: 

From WSOC-TV: 

The family of a 13-year-old Chester boy is demanding answers after investigators said he was stabbed and held underwater by two older teens at a South Carolina lake. Daryl Lowry, who was in foster care at the time of his death, was killed during a confrontation near a boat dock in McCormick County, according to state authorities.

UPDATED: Child abandonment in New Mexico: Was a crucial opportunity missed?

This is the Bridge of the Americas border crossing - where the New Mexico 
family police agency reportedly told a 15-year-old to cross the border alone
to reunite with his mother. 

Did the New Mexico child welfare agency fail to offer help when extended family (or maybe it was godparents) couldn’t cope with a child’s behavioral problems? Or were the godparents willing, but blocked by a hospital and the child welfare agency? Did that set off an awful chain of events? These are not rhetorical questions. Maybe it didn’t happen that way. But New Mexico media should be asking. 

UPDATE, AUGUST 1, 2026: The New Mexico Attorney General is suing the state family police agency, the Children, Youth and Families Department, demanding that the agency return the child from Mexico. The Complaint the agency has filed may shed new light on what happened. This Associated Press story does a good job of summarizing the Complaint. But, like CYFD itself, the Attorney General’s office is an unreliable source, resorting to Trump-style tactics to demonize families. That’s why we call our analysis of the Attorney General’s April report about CYFD Two Epic Fails.

So, for example, the Complaint alleges that, at one point, CYFD workers yelled at the child for returning from Mexico. At another point, CYFD workers allegedly told the Border Patrol that the child was now “Texas’ problem.” Indeed, if the Complaint is to be believed, the Border Patrol treated this child more humanely than CYFD. But is this Complaint to be believed?

Further complicating the matter: At key points the Complaint is redacted. Is that legally required? Is it done to protect the child’s privacy? Or would an unredacted version call into question some of the claims? Given how much the Attorney General postures about others’ failure to be transparent, at a minimum there should be an explanation.

So with those caveats, the post below (and the headline above) have been amended to add the new information where it appears to be reliable. In these places, new information is in red, the original version is crossed out.

There is fury in New Mexico, as there should be, over how the state family police agency, the Children, Youth and Families Department, handled the case of a 15-year-old boy. They got a court to award custody to his mother, whom the child had not lived with for at least nine years and who had just been deported to Mexico. Then they took him to a border crossing and said: Go cross the bridge – alone – and meet your mother. 

The 15-year-old didn’t want to go. But he went into Mexico, and when he couldn't find his mother, Instead, he crossed several lanes of traffic, went back to the United States. When CYFD refused to take him back, the Border Patrol took him to fled to Texas, was held in a shelter in Texas. The Texas child welfare agency ultimately reunited him  there and then, ultimately, reunited with his mother in Mexico. 

In short, CYFD committed child abuse and child abandonment.  

There were three crucial blunders here; the third of which, perhaps the most important, has gotten no attention. 

1.     1. It shouldn’t be necessary to even say this one: You don’t abandon children at an international border and, in effect, throw them away. Whether placement with the mother is right or wrong, this is inexcusable. 

2.     2. The child did not want to return to his mother in Mexico. The return to the mother apparently was approved by a court. But where was the child’s lawyer? In New Mexico, children age 14 and over are entitled to their own lawyers. Those lawyers are supposed to tell the judge what the child wants. It’s not clear how vigorously they are required to advocate for the child’s wishes. 

What should have happened is that the child’s lawyer should have fought tooth and nail for the child’s wishes, making the best possible case on the child’s behalf. That’s not because the child was necessarily right. It’s because deciding what’s best is what judges are for, and they are most likely to make the right decision if all sides are allowed to make the strongest possible case for their positions. 

Did that happen here? We don’t know. In New Mexico, these court hearings are supposed to be open, but this one reportedly was closed. 

Is there a vital failure no one is talking about? 

There are two versions of what happened here, each of which reflects a failure by CYFD. Version 1, as originally published here: 

3.     3. The most important failure may have happened a month or two earlier. News accounts vary, but it appears that this child was living either with relatives or family friends acting as godparents. According to one story: 

The boy was hospitalized in May because of behavioral health issues. When he was discharged in June, however, no one was able to take him in.

According to another account, which refers to the caretakers as godparents, those godparents were willing to keep the boy’s siblings, but not him.

Why?

We don’t know. But there are many cases in which caretakers, whether parents, extended family, foster parents or adoptive parents, simply find a child’s behavioral problems so difficult, they feel they have no choice but to surrender the child. That’s what happened, for example, to a child in Baltimore, Kanaiyah Ward. Her mother was desperate to get her help. Instead, Maryland’s family police agency dumped her in a hotel where she committed suicide. In the New Mexico case, the child also has a heart condition. 

If, in fact, this was the case here, if this was another case of overwhelmed family/guardians who felt they could no longer care for the child, CYFD might have avoided this entire crisis by offering Wraparound services – intensive help in which the family is provided whatever it needs to cope with any behavioral and medical conditions. Yes, sometimes caretakers are so overwhelmed, and so rightly distrustful of family police agencies, that it takes some convincing. Once again, I give you my favorite example. 

But did CYFD even try? 

It doesn’t look that way. And no wonder: CYFD is deluged by false reports, trivial cases, and cases in which poverty is confused with neglect, so the agency lurches from crisis to crisis. That, in turn, is caused by advocates of a take-the-child-and-run approach who use Trump-style smear tactics to encourage the needless separation of more and more families. 

In other words, by so deluging the agency, some of the very people screaming most loudly about what happened to this 15-year-old, such as the state Attorney General, may have worsened the conditions that set this latest crisis in motion in the first place. 

But the Attorney General’s Complaint offers a different version. In this version, the godparents themselves sent the boy to live with relatives in Mexico, but he ran away, back to New Mexico.

That’s when he was hospitalized. When he was ready for discharge the godparents did want him – but, according to the Attorney General’s Complaint, the hospital refused to discharge him because the godparents weren’t his formal legal custodians. Even after the godmother got a signed letter from the mother authorizing her to take the child, the hospital allegedly refused.

Then, the Attorney General says, the hospital filed a child abuse report – claiming there was no one legally allowed to take him!

So what did CYFD do? They, too, apparently wouldn’t give him back to his godparents, and placed him with strangers in foster care instead.

So not only is there no indication CYFD helped the godparents, if this version is correct (and again, we have only the Attorney General’s word for it) they actively thwarted the godparents.

The only thing we know CYFD actually did was to ship the boy off to a foster home, after which the mother expressed interest in custody, after which CYFD got a court to award custody, after which they dumped the child at the border. 

Should the child live with his mother? 

Most New Mexico media certainly don’t seem to think so. They point out that the mother had two “substantiated” allegations of child abuse against her, most recently in 2021. But substantiated means only that a caseworker checked a box on a form. There were many more allegations, but those were unfounded, meaning they couldn’t even meet that minimal standard. So, what did the mother allegedly do in those two “substantiated” cases? Did the mother allegedly beat and torture her children? Was her poverty confused with neglect? Or did her behavior fall somewhere in between? 

It’s easy to miss in the news accounts, but the mother actually was living in the United States until June, when she was deported to Mexico on “drug-related charges.” What charges? Was she convicted? Did she have a meth lab in the basement? Was she dealing fentanyl? Or was she smoking pot – which, though legal in New Mexico, is still grounds for deportation. Or, again, was it something in between? 

The one thing we do know is that CYFD is guilty of at least one unconscionable failure – abandoning a child at the border. It may be guilty of much more. And some of those pointing their fingers at CYFD may share responsibility.

Foster care in California: Your tax dollars at work

 

Private foster care agencies in California want nearly total immunity from 
lawsuits by survivors of abuse in placements they oversee. But they'll settle
for a taxpayer bailout.

Private foster care agencies in California and elsewhere have been trying to get near-total immunity from lawsuits by survivors of abuse in homes or institutions they oversee – or at least a taxpayer bailout for their insurance costs. Here’s an example of who could be shut out. 

This is what allegedly happened to six children in a foster home in San Bernardino County, California, according to a story in the San Bernardino Sun: 

The children, according to the lawsuit, were routinely beaten with belts, cords, wooden sticks and other objects; bound with duct tape; and punched, kicked and choked until the point of unconsciousness. Socks were stuffed into their mouths to prevent anyone from hearing their screams, the suit alleged. And the children were deprived of food and water, forced to stand for hours holding books or lie in dark rooms, and sexually abused and coerced into sexual acts under threats of violence, it further alleged. 

The suit also alleges that county social workers, the foster family agency and school district employees repeatedly missed or ignored warning signs, including visible injuries, disclosures of abuse, missed welfare visits and complaints from the children. [Emphasis added for reasons discussed below.] 

This is what allegedly happened in another San Bernardino County home where a four-year-old autistic child died: 

The lawsuit filed July 7 by the family of 4-year-old Avery Habelitz alleges San Bernardino County Children and Family Services, two foster family agencies and multiple social workers ignored repeated warnings that Avery, who was autistic and nonverbal, required specialized care unavailable in her foster placements. 

The lawsuit alleges Avery was removed from her parents’ home and placed in foster care in Apple Valley, despite an individualized behavioral treatment plan calling for 32 hours a month of one-on-one behavioral therapy, 50 hours of social skills training, 20 hours of supervision and 15 hours of oversight by a board certified behavior analyst. 

Those services ceased after she entered foster care and were never resumed despite repeated warnings that interrupting treatment could worsen her self-injurious behaviors and other developmental challenges, according to the lawsuit. [Emphasis added.] 

Why the emphasis on the fact that those sued include a total of three “Foster Family Agencies” (FFAs)? Because these private agencies, which oversee many group homes and institutions and some family foster homes, have been waging a campaign to slam the courthouse door in the faces of survivors of abuse and their families. The same is true in several other states. Too many news organizations have bought the snake oil that the FFAs have been selling. 

At the heart of the issue is the fact that insurance companies have realized there is so much abuse in foster care that it’s a high risk – for them. So they’ve raised premiums. 

So the FFAs went running to the California Legislature seeking either or both of two things: near-total immunity from lawsuits by those who say they were victimized on their watch or a bailout in which taxpayers would chip in a whole lot of money to help them pay their insurance premiums. 

They did not get the immunity. They did get a bailout – to the tune of $31 million that could have been spent actually helping families. And now they’re after another. Private foster care agencies are seeking much the same in New York, Illinois and elsewhere. 

What is most shameful in all this is the credulous complicity of many news organizations. In story after story, private foster care agencies have been portrayed as God’s gift to children, and their closing supposedly would be some sort of catastrophe. That’s the agencies’ party line. One expects them to make such claims. But one news organization after another has accepted those claims without question. 

But, for reasons discussed in detail in the columns to which I’ve linked above, none of it is true. On the contrary, the closing of such agencies should be seen as an opportunity to rethink a system over reliant on their group homes and institutions and the foster families they supervise. 

So please, California journalists, and those dealing with this issue in other states: Before you write your next OMG-the-sky-will-fall-if-the-FFAs-don’t-get-relief story, take a moment to think about those six former foster youth who survived and the family of Avery Habelitz who did not. Then think about the thousands of others across the country who have been abused while under the “care” of FFAs and their counterparts in other states. Who really deserves our attention, our sympathy and our compensation, the children or the agencies?

Illustration by ChatGPT

NCCPR in Bridge Michigan: Can Michigan learn the right lessons from two child welfare cases?

Two cases involving Michigan’s child welfare system have been in the news lately. So far, Michigan lawmakers are ignoring one and learning the wrong lessons from the other.

Read the full commentary in Bridge Michigan.

NCCPR news and commentary round-up, week ending July 21, 2026

● The child welfare establishment loves to tell us that there is no racial bias in the system and children are never taken because of poverty alone – they claim there must have been something like drug abuse. This story from The Marshall Project exposes both those lies. And see also their story about one state – New Jersey – that has reformed its practices. 

● NCCPR’s commentary in Bridge Michigan: Two cases involving Michigan’s child welfare system have been in the news lately. (You’ve heard about one of them.) So far, Michigan lawmakers are ignoring one and learning the wrong lessons from the other. 

● In Arizona, where foster children are institutionalized at a rate more than quadruple the national average, there’s been another expose of widespread problems at two of the institutions. But the only solutions authorities can think of are to blame the kids and make the places more like jails. I have a blog post about it. 

● Meanwhile, The Imprint reports that Utah finally is shutting down one of the state’s notorious “troubled teen industry” institutions. 

● There’s still another study out showing the transformative power of cash. This one concludes: 

We find that a $1000 annual increase in total expected state safety net support is associated with a 4% decline in state-year CPS investigations among children of all ages and those under age 5, with similar associations for neglect and physical abuse investigations.

● And ABC News reports that 

A new bill in Washington, D.C., would allow foster youth to help define their own families — and it's crafted by the very young people it seeks to serve. 

Former and current foster youth helped create the Support, Opportunity, Unity and Legal Relationships Act, known as the SOUL Act. It's a Washington, D.C., bill that would allow teens -- ages 16 and up -- to legally enlist multiple guardians, blood relatives or other trusted adults for support without having to completely cut legal ties to their birth parents. …