Across France, something deeply uncomfortable is being exposed. Not just individual cases of harm, but patterns.

Children as young as three, attending école maternelle (state nursery schools), have come forward describing experiences that range from sexual abuse to something that is often dismissed, but just as damaging: cruelty. Cruelty in the way they are spoken to. Cruelty in how they are handled. Cruelty in the environments they are left in. And crucially, this isn’t only about men. In several cases, women – trusted, familiar, everyday figures in these settings – have also been named by children. That matters, because it challenges a dangerous assumption: that safeguarding risks come from a particular ‘type’ of person.
They don’t.

They come from systems that allow harm to happen.

One of the most important details emerging from Paris is that in many cases, those accused were not trained early years practitioners. They were staff brought in to cover lunchtimes, after-school care, breaks, and supervision.
Often low-paid. Often undertrained. Often moving between settings. This is not a criticism of individuals trying to do a job, it’s a reflection of a system that places people into positions of responsibility with too little preparation, too little support, and too little oversight.

Some of the most shocking accounts involve sexual abuse.
But many don’t. They describe something else, something quieter, but deeply harmful. Children being shouted at, threatened, humiliated. Children being forced to eat, even when they are distressed or unwell. Children being isolated, frightened, or made to feel unsafe. And in some cases, very young children being told things like “If you don’t stop crying, you won’t see your parents again.” To an adult, that might sound like poor practice. To a three-year-old, it is terrifying.

This is what gets missed when the conversation focuses only on extreme cases.
Because harm in early years settings often sits on a spectrum and cruelty sits right in the middle of it.

What is perhaps most concerning is not just what is happening, but how it is being handled.Parents raising concerns. Complaints not being shared. Investigations delayed or closed. Staff quietly removed, but not always prevented from working elsewhere.

Again and again, incidents are treated as isolated. But when multiple children, in multiple settings, describe similar experiences, that is not coincidence. That is pattern, and patterns point to systems, not exceptions.

Why this matters for the UK

The UK is currently expanding childcare at pace. More hours. Younger children. More reliance on wraparound care. But expansion raises a simple question – who is actually caring for these children and under what conditions?
Because if provision grows faster than training, pay, safeguarding, and oversight, then gaps appear, and it is in those gaps that harm happens. Not always dramatically, not always visibly, but consistently enough to matter.

Most people working with children care deeply about what they do. But good intentions do not replace training, structure, or accountability.
And they do not protect children from systems that are stretched too thinly.

If anything, stories like those coming out of France should prompt us to look more closely, not look away.

When very young children change their behaviour, withdraw, become fearful, or start saying things that don’t quite make sense, they are communicating something. The question is whether the adults, and the systems around them, are willing to listen, because what we are seeing in France is not just a scandal, it’s a warning, and the UK needs to decide whether it is going to take that warning seriously or wait until it has its own version of the same story.