California’s ambitious mental health initiative, touted as a lifeline for thousands, has stumbled out of the gate with staggering inefficiency.
Launched in March 2022 by Governor Gavin Newsom, the CARE Court program aimed to assist up to 12,000 individuals with severe mental illness, particularly those trapped in cycles of homelessness and incarceration. With a hefty $236 million in taxpayer funding, the program was designed to provide court-ordered treatment. Yet, only 22 people have been ordered into treatment out of roughly 3,000 petitions filed statewide, with most approvals resulting in voluntary agreements rather than mandatory care.
Critics have raised alarms over the program’s dismal results, arguing that it fails to address the urgent needs of California’s estimated 170,000 to 180,000 homeless individuals, between 30 and 60 percent of whom suffer from serious mental health issues. This gap between promise and delivery has sparked frustration among families and advocates. They question whether the state’s massive spending, including $24 to $37 billion on homelessness, is yielding any meaningful impact.
Let’s do the math: $236 million for just 22 court-ordered treatments comes out to over $10 million per person, the Daily Mail reported. That’s a jaw-dropping figure for a state where families are begging for help while watching loved ones spiral into despair.
Governor Newsom himself acknowledged the emotional toll on families, saying, “I've got four kids. I can't imagine how hard this is. It breaks your heart.”
Yet, heartfelt words ring hollow when the system he champions leaves so many behind. If up to 50,000 people could be eligible, as a State Assembly analysis suggested, why are we stuck at a measly 22?
Ronda Deplazes, a 62-year-old mother from Concord, knows this failure firsthand with her 38-year-old son, who has battled schizophrenia since his late teens. Her son’s life has been a cycle of jail, homelessness, and violence—jailed roughly 200 times. Her petition to CARE Court was rejected by a judge who claimed her son’s needs exceeded the program’s capacity.
Deplazes vented her frustration, stating, “I was devastated. Completely out of hope. It felt like just another round of hope and defeat.”
Her story isn’t unique—countless parents, even high-profile ones like the late Rob and Michele Reiner or the family of former child star Tylor Chase, face the same bureaucratic maze.
The roots of California’s mental health crisis stretch back decades to the Lanterman-Petris-Short Act, signed into law about 60 years ago, which ended involuntary confinement in state hospitals. While intended to protect individual rights, it left many chronically ill individuals without adequate support, contributing to today’s street-level struggles. Newsom’s initiative was supposed to be a modern fix, but the results suggest otherwise.
Even recent 2025 data, cited by the governor’s office, showing a 9% drop in unsheltered homelessness, feels like a small victory against a backdrop of systemic failure. Spending billions with questionable outcomes isn’t progress—it’s a taxpayer-funded mirage.
Deplazes and her network of mothers aren’t buying the excuses, nor should they. If the state can’t navigate its own complex, multi-billion-dollar programs, how can it expect desperate families to do so?
Perhaps the most damning critique is the suspicion of misuse surrounding CARE Court’s funding. Deplazes didn’t mince words, accusing the system of profiteering while families suffer.
The numbers don’t lie—22 helped out of thousands in need, despite a quarter-billion-dollar budget, raises serious questions about accountability.
With California’s history of bloated programs and minimal oversight, it’s hard not to wonder if the focus is on helping people or padding payrolls. This isn’t just about policy failure; it’s about ensuring taxpayer dollars aren’t squandered on empty promises.
