Former Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg recently sparked a conversation about adoption with comments that described “a list for white kids” and “paying a deposit on a fetus.” While he offered some thoughtful reflections on parenting, these particular remarks — and the media response they generated — highlight a dangerous trend: the use of adoption as a proxy in broader cultural battles, often without context or accuracy.
As someone who has worked with hundreds of adoption agencies and professionals across the country for decades, I can confidently say that these terms misrepresent how private adoption works. More importantly, when media narratives confuse or conflate key facts, the real harm falls on children and families.
One of the most common forms of misinformation happens when conflating private domestic adoption with statistics from the U.S. foster care system. This conflation leads to false conclusions about racial disparities. Private domestic adoption, which typically involves the voluntary placement of infants by their birth-parents, is a fundamentally different system from foster care, where children are placed due to abuse, neglect, or other issues.
The motivations, processes, and challenges differ profoundly between the two. Using data or dynamics from the foster care system to critique private adoption is not only misleading — it’s comparing apples to oranges.
Even more concerning are recent assertions that some adoption agencies have begun to lower the cost associated with adopting Black children. This is an unfounded and damaging claim. No credible agency bases its fees on the race of a child. To suggest otherwise is to malign the ethical professionals who work tirelessly to ensure every child is placed in a loving home.
The comments demonstrate ignorance on two essential aspects of private domestic adoption: First, in most cases, birth parents are choosing the adoptive parents; and, second, there are far more hopeful adoptive parents waiting than there are newborns placed for adoption each year. Both of these points are worth a brief examination.
Adoption has changed dramatically in the last few decades, from past practices where expectant mothers had very little, if any, role in choosing the adoptive parents, and even whether or not to place the child for adoption. Historically, her parents or other authority figures often made those decisions. That has shifted dramatically, with most moms now choosing the adoptive parents and usually maintaining a relationship with their child and the adoptive family after the placement (an “open adoption”).
For mothers who do place for adoption, fewer than one-third say race is an important factor in choosing adoptive parents, but for those who want, they can factor racial considerations, or any other preferences, into their decision-making.
In the U.S., only about 25,000 private domestic adoptions happen each year, yet hundreds of thousands of parents would be thrilled to grow their families this way. Because of this mismatch, there is no shortage of qualified families who are eager to adopt children of any race, ethnicity, and other attributes.
These two factors — the birth parents being in the decision-making role of choosing the adoptive parents, coupled with the overabundance of hopeful adoptive parents relative to the number of newborns placed — create a dynamic in which birth parents can be choosy about who they want to be the parents for their child. It also means that adoption agencies would have no reason or incentive to charge less money for the placement of a Black child.
It is true that private domestic adoption, like all aspects of child welfare, faces real challenges, ranging from inconsistent pre- and post-adoption support to the need for stronger oversight and accountability. There is an essential place for conversations about race in adoption as well. Constructive criticism is welcome and necessary, and reform efforts are needed. For example, the Federal Trade Commission recently sent warning letters to 31 entities suspected of predatory practices such as misleading adoptive parents about their success rates and suppressing negative reviews online. Such actions deserve public scrutiny and reform.
But reform must begin with facts, not fiction. Mischaracterizations and sensational headlines about racial adoption lists both distract from real problems and stigmatize the people who have navigated the adoption process with good faith and integrity. Reducing adoption to a subject for culture-war shorthand risks alienating families who deserve understanding and support.
If we want to improve adoption in the U.S., we must pursue thoughtful, informed dialogue grounded in reality, not rhetoric. The lives and futures of children and families are too meaningful for anything less.
Ryan Hanlon is president of the National Council For Adoption.