The only thing surprising about Dorothy Roberts winning a MacArthur Foundation “genius grant” earlier this month is that it took the organization so long to do it. Roberts, a law professor at the University of Pennsylvania, has long been a darling of the critical-theory Left for her writings advocating the abolition of the child welfare system. Since the 1980s, she has been arguing, in the words of a press release, that “systemic inequities threaten the wellbeing of Black children,” and that we should “reimagine a system that supports—instead of polices—families.” She denies that black children experience maltreatment and maltreatment fatalities at higher rates than children from other racial groups. And even if they do, she claims, such problems can be fixed by some combination of a supportive sisterhood and large infusions of cash from the government.
“If we cared about the welfare of children,” Roberts notes in her most recent book, Torn Apart, “we would dismantle the foster-industrial complex and send all the cash it sucks up directly to the family members who care for them.” Roberts never acknowledges that those family members may be suffering from severe substance abuse or mental illness. And again, she argues that, even if they were, it is the fault of slavery, Jim Crow, and systemic racism, which have created intergenerational trauma.
The idea of abolishing the child welfare system gained currency in 2020 as a kind of companion idea to defunding the police. Most of the original advocates of abolishing or defunding the police have claimed (sometimes belatedly) that they didn’t really mean “abolish” or “defund,” only that we should give more resources to other government entities. Regardless, the results were so terrible and so obvious to ordinary citizens that politicians had no choice but to backpedal.
No such backpedaling has taken place when it comes to abolishing the child welfare system. State child welfare systems have reduced the number of kids in foster care, discouraged teachers and doctors from reporting signs of child abuse and neglect, and even pushed hospitals not to tell child protective services about substance exposure in newborns. The number of child-maltreatment fatalities appears to be rising, and many children are experiencing longer periods of time living with abusive and neglectful families. These effects—unlike, say, the crime and disorder caused by defunding the police—are largely hidden from public view.
The relative invisibility of these child-welfare breakdowns is enabling abolitionist ideas to spread further. The Loyola University Chicago School of Social Work, for instance, recently advertised for two “nine-month tenure-track positions at the assistant or associate professor rank.” Responsibilities include a requirement to teach “Social work policy, (e.g., abolition of child welfare).” The plain statement that new hires are expected to teach the “abolition of child welfare” is shocking in itself; that this is the only element of child welfare policy mentioned is appalling. It is absurd that the job description contains no mention of risk assessment, child safety, or understanding substance use in the context of child welfare services. To be sure, the list of topics need not be exhaustive, though one would hope a job description already running more than two full pages might include something beyond just a call to scrap the system.
Every state is reporting a child welfare workforce shortage. It is all but impossible to get qualified people to work for the agencies. Some experience annual turnover rates above 40 percent. The problem is not only low pay or the stress of a job that involves severely abused and neglected children; it is also that the people who go into this field constantly hear the message that they are the problem—that they are propping up a racist system that began with slavery and extends to the present day. Who goes into social work to hear such things?
Public perceptions can have a major effect on the profession of social work, just as they do for law enforcement. Derision for police officers from both politicians and the public has discouraged future applicants and driven others to leave the profession. If you want good police officers, you can’t keep tarring them all as brutal and racist. The same goes for child welfare workers.
Years from now, when (God willing) the public begins to wake up to the terrible effects of current child welfare policies, we can give thanks to the MacArthur Foundation and schools like Loyola Chicago for one thing, at least: they’ve made it clear where to place the blame.