Review of Jacob Soboroff's Separated

Jacob Soboroff, an NBC News and MSNBC correspondent, has carved a reputation for incisive journalism, particularly on immigration. His work, recognized with the Walter Cronkite Award and the Hillman Prize for Broadcast Journalism, combines rigorous reporting with human empathy. His debut book, Separated: Inside an American Tragedy (2020), a New York Times bestseller and finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, delves into the Trump administration’s family separation policy at the U.S.-Mexico border. Adapted into a film by Errol Morris, the book draws from Soboroff’s firsthand reporting, exposing a humanitarian crisis that shocked the world.

The book’s thesis argues that the deliberate separation of migrant families, enacted as a deterrent, was a preventable catastrophe rooted in bureaucratic cruelty and systemic failure, causing lasting trauma. It contends that exposing such policies is essential to spur accountability and reform. This book is a must-read because it serves as a wake-up call, laying bare the ground reality of governmental inhumanity while urging readers to confront injustice. Its vivid storytelling and meticulous evidence make it vital for anyone seeking to understand the human cost of policy, especially in a world playing catch-up to ethical governance.

Separated begins with a visceral scene at Casa Padre, a former Walmart turned detention center in Brownsville, Texas. “This place is called a shelter, but effectively these kids are incarcerated” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 3) sets the tone for Soboroff’s investigation. The narrative traces the Trump administration’s zero-tolerance policy, implemented in 2017, which separated thousands of migrant children from their parents at the U.S. border. “The policy was ripping families apart” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 4) captures its brutality. Soboroff, among the first journalists to witness the children’s conditions, frames the book as both a journalistic exposé and a human story.

The central argument is that the policy was a deliberate act of cruelty, not a bureaucratic error. “It was an avoidable catastrophe” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 6) underscores this, supported by evidence from interviews, documents, and firsthand accounts. Soboroff details the policy’s origins, tracing it to Stephen Miller’s influence: “Stephen Miller loudly voiced vitriol for undocumented immigrants” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 87). The policy aimed to deter migration, but “U.S. officials intentionally carried out discriminatory actions that caused severe pain and suffering” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 112), as Physicians for Human Rights labeled it “torture.”

Key evidence includes the story of Juan and José, a Guatemalan father and son separated for months. “Juan agreed to share his story so that what happened to him and to his son would not happen to anyone ever again” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 156) highlights their trauma. Soboroff tours facilities like Casa Padre, housing 1,500 boys, where “there were set times for eating and sleeping and two hours of recreation allowed each day in a dirt field” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 3). He interviews Border Patrol agents, Health and Human Services officials, and whistleblowers like Commander Jonathan White, who warned of the policy’s harm: “Family separation would constitute a violation of the constitutional principle of fair treatment” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 90).

The policy’s chaos is evident in its lack of tracking: “No one in the government was keeping an accurate count of how many children were being separated” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 158). By June 2018, at least 5,556 children were separated, with “the Trump administration potentially creating thousands of immigrant orphans” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 159). Public outcry, fueled by Soboroff’s reports, led to Trump’s reversal, but “the government had no reunification plan in place” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 160), as Judge Sabraw noted. The book interweaves personal stories, like Juan’s, with bureaucratic failures: “Asylum-seekers like Juan and José were routinely denied the opportunity to claim asylum” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 157).

Solutions lie in accountability and reform. Soboroff advocates for transparent immigration systems: “A system of tracking the children for the purpose of relinking them with their parents” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 158) was absent but needed. He highlights heroes like White, who worked to reunite families: “Unsung heroes emerge, too” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 190). The book concludes with an afterword noting ongoing challenges: “At least a thousand children still hadn’t been reunited with their parents” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 267). Soboroff calls for policy overhaul, emphasizing compassion: “We are all God’s people and should be treated with compassion and respect” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 269).

The book’s strengths lie in its rigorous reporting and emotional resonance. Soboroff’s firsthand access, as in “the first glimpse any reporter would have of the living conditions of children detained” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 3), provides unmatched depth, akin to works like The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. The narrative balances policy analysis with human stories, making “the inhumanity and horror of the policy come through very powerfully” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 269). Interviews with officials across the chain of command, from Border Patrol to DHS leaders, reveal systemic flaws: “Whenever possible, he moves all the way up the chain of command” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 94). The use of primary sources, like emails and transcripts, strengthens its credibility.

The book’s emotional weight is a triumph. Juan and José’s story, where “the policy inflicted untold psychological harm” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 157), humanizes statistics. Soboroff’s prose, described as “sharp and succinct” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 269), ensures accessibility without losing depth. His critique extends to past administrations, noting “the Clinton and Obama administrations planted seeds that flourished under Trump” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 190), offering a balanced historical perspective.

Weaknesses include a sometimes narrow focus. The book, pitched as a comprehensive study, leans heavily on Soboroff’s personal journey: “Somewhat narrowly focused on author Jacob Soboroff’s personal experiences” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 92). This memoir-like approach, with details like his TV appearances, can feel extraneous, as when he notes James Corden’s tweet (Soboroff, 2020, p. 190). Intersectional analysis is limited; while race and migration are central, gender and class dynamics are underexplored, unlike works like Evicted by Matthew Desmond. The audiobook’s issues, with “endnotes divorced from their context” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 92), may frustrate some readers. The lack of broader immigration context, like asylum laws, limits its scope as a definitive reference.

The verdict is strongly positive. Separated is a compelling, essential exposé, recommended for readers of investigative journalism and human rights narratives. Its emotional and factual depth outweighs its flaws, making it a vital read.

Why Indian Youth Readers Must Read This Book

For Indian youth, navigating the pressures of rote learning and societal expectations, Separated resonates profoundly. The education system’s grind, with its focus on exams like JEE, mirrors the migrants’ struggle to conform to hostile systems: “Asylum-seekers like Juan and José were routinely denied the opportunity to claim asylum” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 157). The book is a wake-up call, exposing the ground reality of systemic injustice, akin to the pressure to secure top ranks at the cost of individuality.

The job market’s fierce competition parallels the migrants’ precarious existence. Like the children in “shelters” that “effectively incarcerated” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 3), youth face uncertainty in securing stable careers, often blamed for systemic failures. Societal norms—marrying within caste or pursuing “respectable” jobs—echo the policy’s rigidity. The book’s call for compassion, “We are all God’s people and should be treated with compassion and respect” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 269), inspires youth to challenge conformity through activism or empathy, whether in classrooms or communities. The emphasis on accountability, “a system of tracking the children” (Soboroff, 2020, p. 158), mirrors the need for transparency in India’s education and job systems, urging youth to demand fairness while playing catch-up in a flawed landscape. This book is a rallying cry for empathy and action.

Separated is a searing exposé of a humanitarian tragedy, blending rigorous journalism with human stories. Soboroff’s vivid reporting and moral clarity make it a powerful call to action. For Indian youth, it’s a lens on resisting systemic pressures and embracing compassion. This book demands attention, urging readers to confront injustice and build a more humane world.