This kind of nonfiction relies on earning the privilege of entry into people’s lives and observing them closely and deeply; Hobbs excels at both. Describing environments and scenes, he is fluent and precise, with an eye for rich detail. Even better is his portrayal of the internal experiences of his subjects, showing the reader their coping mechanisms, loneliness and depression. Hobbs’s prepandemic access is formidable, as is his ability to reconstruct those scenes that occurred after in-person reporting became impossible.

Provides background on the evolution of America's juvenile justice system — but it is primarily about people, not statistics. Many of the statistics are grim and the outcomes depressing.

Hobbs spends a bit of time on the history of juvenile justice to provide a context, while the heart of the book is the stories of the individuals most impacted by the system. He focuses most compellingly on two young men...and two educators in California.

A well-argued case for a better approach to turning young lawbreakers to better paths..

Gripping and harrowing.