There is a persistent belief in divorce and custody cases that goes something like this:
“If I can make the court view my spouse as dangerous, dishonest, or morally repugnant, the court will subconsciously punish them—by believing me more, scrutinizing them harder, and giving me the benefit of the doubt.”
“If I can make the court fear or loathe my co-parent, I will win.”
That belief is widespread. For a reason.
The Uncomfortable Truth: Sometimes It Works
Let’s start with honesty. Sometimes the demonization gambit does pay off, at least in the short term.
Not because it is righteous or persuasive, but because the cost of being wrong feels asymmetrical. Courts, custody evaluators, and PGALs are human and risk-averse. Faced with stark allegations—especially those invoking abuse, instability, or danger—the temptation to err on the side of caution is strong.
If the court overreacts, a parent loses time, money, or leverage. If the court underreacts and harm occurs, the consequences are far worse. So temporary orders get entered. Generous support is awarded “for now.” Parent-time is restricted “for now”—a phrase that often means much longer than advertised.
So yes, demonization can work. That is exactly why it is tempting—and why it is corrosive.
When and How Demonization Backfires
Demonization rests on a quiet assumption: that there is no cost to being wrong. In reality, the cost is deferred, not avoided. The strategy often survives its opening act—but not its second. Once it becomes clear the court has been asked to fear a parent or spouse without sufficient cause, attention shifts. The issue is no longer whether the other party is dangerous, but whether the accuser can be trusted.
Here’s why it usually unravels:
Credibility Decay
Extreme claims demand proof. As allegations multiply, shift, or escalate, decision-makers notice. Severity lowers tolerance for “trust me.” The more serious the claim, the more external, verifiable confirmation is expected. That isn’t unfairness; it’s proportional reasoning.
Judicial Fatigue
Judges see this tactic constantly. Over time, exaggeration becomes background noise. That skepticism can spill over and prejudice real victims—but that is the institutional consequence of routine misuse.
Collateral Damage to the Child
Falsely portraying a fit parent as dangerous is not victimless. Children are half of each parent. Teaching a child that one parent is “bad” teaches the child that part of themselves is bad. That cognitive dissonance warps their sense of self and family.
And when abuse language is misused, it degrades the signal courts rely on to identify genuine danger—making real victims harder to hear.
Record Permanence
Pleadings, evaluations, and transcripts don’t disappear—but they don’t enforce themselves either. Today’s convenient allegation becomes tomorrow’s forgotten footnote unless someone forces the inconsistency into focus. The record matters not because courts always revisit it, but because it remains available when credibility finally becomes unavoidable.
Limited Blowback
When the narrative cracks, the fallout is rarely dramatic. Courts tend to disengage rather than punish, quietly recalibrating credibility. But once trust is lost, it is rarely regained. Future claims—even legitimate ones—carry less weight. The cost is not justice denied or delivered, but influence forfeited.
An Essential Distinction: Abuse vs. Demonization
None of this minimizes real abuse. When abuse exists, it must be raised, documented, substantiated, and addressed—decisively.
But not every accusation is protective.
There is a clear difference between protective disclosure and cynical demonization. Protective disclosure is concrete, specific, and anchored to events. Demonization relies on labels, accumulation, and timing. Courts do not always spot the difference immediately. Sometimes they act first and sort it out later. But once the distinction becomes clear, the focus shifts from what happened to why this story was told this way.
If You’re Tempted to Demonize
If you are exaggerating, fabricating, or selectively distorting facts to gain leverage, call it what it is: lying. Not advocacy. Not strategy. Lying.
Lying to take time with a child, control of a home, or credibility before the court is deliberate harm. You would howl if it were done to you. Telling yourself a story about why you are justified doesn’t change the act; it just dulls your conscience.
The idea that “preventative mistreatment” is defensive collapses on contact with reality. If mistreatment is wrong, it is wrong when you do it first.
Short-term gains purchased through distortion almost always cost more than they deliver. They cost credibility. They cost real victims, whose claims are diluted. And they cost children, who learn a pernicious lesson: that lying and that exploiting others is acceptable when it is useful.
This tactic is not clever. It is not defensive. It is destructive—and it leaves wreckage whether or not the court ever names it.
If This Is Being Done to You: Defend Yourself—Properly
One of the worst mistakes falsely accused parents make is believing that “the truth will speak for itself.” It won’t. Courts evaluate what is placed in the record, how it is framed, and whether it is presented with discipline. Silence reads as confusion or absence of proof—not dignity.
The second worst mistake is panicking—responding emotionally, over-arguing, or fighting fire with fire. That reaction doesn’t rebut a false accusation; it supplies it. Chaos and indignation are easily mistaken for instability.
The correct posture is procedural clarity and restraint: respond promptly, correct the record precisely, and let documentation—not emotion—do the work. This does not require denying how you feel. As Disraeli put it, “Never apologize for showing feeling, my friend. Remember that when you do so, you apologize for truth.” The mistake is letting those feelings speak in the wrong forum, in the wrong form, at the wrong time.
Truth does not need to be dramatized. It needs to be protected.
High-level principles. To the extent that you can:
Respond early. Silence hardens narratives.
Stay factual. Emotion fuels the other side.
Document everything, contemporaneously.
Assume every communication will be read by a third party.
Concrete tactics.
Preserve texts, emails, school and medical records, calendars.
Correct falsehoods narrowly; don’t relitigate the relationship.
Cooperate fully, but never casually. Evaluators and PGALs vary widely in skill and neutrality. Answer only the question asked, anchor responses in verifiable facts, and keep your own contemporaneous record of every interaction. Their notes are not transcripts—and your version will not otherwise exist.
Escalate procedurally, not theatrically.
Resist counter-demonization. Two wrongs do not make a right.
A Final Warning—to Both Sides
Demonization persists because it sometimes works and is rarely punished cleanly. That should sober, not embolden. Courts and evaluators manage risk under pressure and imperfect information. They will sometimes get it wrong. That does not excuse exploiting the weakness.
Utah Family Law, LC | divorceutah.com | 801-466-9277