Phil Scott’s 14-point Burlington plan repeats the same mistake Vermont has made for years: mistaking compassion for policy.
By Matt Swenson
Governor Phil Scott Scott just dropped a 14-point public-safety plan for Burlington. Looks busy — more treatment beds, more “community care,” another shelter. But walk Church Street after dark and you know the score: we’ve done this dance. It flopped.
The issue isn’t that Vermonters lack heart. We’ve just mixed up kindness with backbone.
Juvenile justice took the hardest hit. In 2020, the state killed Woodside — our only secure youth facility. Headlines screamed “outdated” and swore better fixes were coming. Never happened. Judges started stashing violent teens in motels. Car thefts blew up. Break-ins turned routine.
Woodside had problems — nobody denies it. But shutting it without a backup wasn’t progress. It was giving up.
Jump to 2025. Cops track tight crews of out-of-state kids running fentanyl and hot Kias like a side hustle. Recent homicides involved minors who shouldhave been locked down. Not random tragedies. Policy flops you could set a clock by.
Red Clover shows what clicks: single-sex units, real clinicians, locked doors at night. Kids hate the rules — exactly why they work. Structure saves lives.
Yet Montpelier keeps tossing pilot crumbs. Scott’s 15-bed youth wing? Adorable. Vermont needs regional secure centers — Rutland, St. Johnsbury, Northeast Kingdom. Anything less is window dressing.
Mental-health beds tell the same tale. Brattleboro Retreat’s packed, turning away crisis cases. Drive six hours south to Greystone Park in New Jersey — rebuilt 2008 with natural light, enclosed courtyards, open-ward security. Patient violence dropped. Long-term outcomes climbed. Jersey built its way out. Vermont cut its way in.
Public space is another casualty. Burlington taxpayers fund parks they can’t use. Enforce the loitering laws already on the books — yeah, even the ones that sting. Bring back public-drunkenness arrests. Give cops tools to head off trouble before it’s a crime scene.
Involuntary commitment: we’ve got the legal bar — just no beds. Set up secure transport teams (sheriffs or licensed outfits) that skip jammed ERs and deliver straight to regional stabilization units. Not cruelty. Triage.
Juvenile felons belong in adult court — full stop. Running the same 16-year-old through “restorative circles” after his third armed robbery isn’t mercy. It’s negligence.
Scott didn’t start this mess, but he’s kept it rolling. Vermont leaders keep calling tolerance progress. Real compassion builds walls — literal and figurative — so people can’t wreck themselves in public while we call it freedom.
Secure facilities. Enforceable laws. Long-term psych beds. These aren’t mean. They’re civilized.
Until we restore them, every new 14-point plan is just another press release.
Vermont’s crisis isn’t compassion. It’s capacity.
Matt Swenson lives in Chittenden County, Vermont. He has background in media, environmental toxicology, and currently consults on future security concepts.