SALT LAKE CITY, UT — Utah built a statewide domestic violence screening system to help police spot danger earlier and connect victims with confidential advocates before a situation turns deadly. But data reviewed by the Utah Domestic Violence Coalition shows that many people flagged as high risk are still not getting that immediate handoff.
Over a yearlong period ending in June, police sent 6,458 high-risk referrals to domestic violence organizations. Only about 28% included a phone call from the scene to an advocate, even though supporters expected that step to be part of the process. Advocates say the missing call can leave survivors waiting for help that never comes.
How Utah’s 11-question screen is supposed to work
The program requires officers to ask 11 questions when they respond to domestic violence calls. If the answers show a heightened risk, police are supposed to refer the case so a confidential advocate can step in quickly and help with safety planning and next steps.
That process was meant to keep victims from falling through the cracks during a dangerous moment. In practice, however, the law does not explicitly require officers to make the phone call that many advocates say is the most important part of the handoff.
When that call does happen, the advocate can respond while the incident is still fresh and the survivor may be most open to help. When it does not, the referral often arrives later through an email generated by a state portal instead.
Why many cases reach advocates only by email
Advocates say the state portal often sends them only basic assessment data, and in most cases it does not include a phone number for the survivor. Ashley Daniels, a victim advocate at YCC Family Crisis Center in Ogden, said that makes timely follow-up difficult from the start.
Even when a number is listed, privacy rules limit how aggressively staff can reach out. Daniels said the result is a system that can document risk without always delivering direct help.
She said that gap matters because survivors may have been told by police that help is coming, only to hear nothing more. In those cases, advocates worry the silence can reinforce an abuser’s message that nobody will believe the victim or step in to protect them.
Ogden sees better coordination than many departments
Whether the handoff happens by phone often depends on a department’s size, staffing and relationships with local domestic violence groups. Advocates said some agencies have stronger systems than others, which creates uneven results across the state.
Ogden was described as one of the brighter spots. Daniels said the crisis center works with Ogden police officers daily, and the department has welcomed continued training from the center. That kind of routine contact makes the referral process more likely to happen as intended.
Ogden Police Capt. Matt Ward said the handoff helps officers stay focused on enforcement while someone with specialized training can provide longer-term support. He said police are not trained to act as therapists, especially in cases where a survivor may not want to press criminal charges.
High-profile deaths helped drive the statewide law
The statewide protocol came after several tragedies that drew public attention in Utah. One was the 2021 death of Gabby Petito, who was stopped by police in Moab after bystanders reported a fight with her boyfriend during a road trip.
The other was the 2022 killing of Mandy Mayne in Taylorsville. Mayne, a cousin of Lt. Gov. Deidre Henderson, was shot by her ex-husband after he had shown up uninvited at her job two days earlier, prompting a call to police.
Petito’s family and Henderson pushed lawmakers to require the lethality assessment statewide. They said officers had not used the screening tool in the cases involving their loved ones, even though many Utah agencies were already using it in some form.
Supporters say the law needs fixes, not abandonment
Petito’s mother, Nichole Schmidt, said the unanimous 2023 approval showed how quickly lawmakers acted. She also said the state now needs to examine why the program is not working as well as intended in some places.
Schmidt said she believes her daughter would have been flagged as high risk if police had asked the 11 questions. She has also been urging other states to use similar screening tools that ask about guns, prior threats and choking history.
Henderson called the protocol a life-saving intervention and said it has helped protect Utah families. She did not address the problem advocates identified, but said the process has caught dangerous situations that might otherwise have gone unnoticed.
Lawmakers, researchers and police weigh next steps
Sen. Todd Weiler, the bill’s sponsor, said he believed the original intent was for officers to make the call to shelters or advocates. He said he plans to talk with police chiefs and others about whether the law should be changed or whether better training and compliance would solve the problem.
Weiler said the system is still better than it was before, though he would like to see the share of calls climb much higher. A researcher who briefed lawmakers earlier this month said the program has improved collaboration, but some areas still show what she described as unenthusiastic participation.
State officials say there are practical obstacles, including officers without department phones and poor cell coverage in some regions. Utah public safety officials also say the protocol has improved access to criminal history, sometimes within 15 minutes, helping officers better gauge danger.
That broader data access can matter: officials said the system has uncovered prior attempted homicide cases in other states and helped raise the risk level quickly. Even with those gains, advocates say the missing live connection remains the weak point that leaves victims exposed.
Local news that matters, from Dulaney Griffin.
