Kate Gosselin has decided not to take her estranged son Collin’s suggestion to undergo a lie detector test.

The 51-year-old addressed comments on TikTok on Monday, reacting to her son’s public appeal made to the US Sun in 2025—a year before he announced plans for a revealing memoir.

A social media user recommended, “If you’re convinced that the allegations against you are false, you should consider taking him to court for defamation!”

Gosselin responded, “I can’t because I’m a public figure. The rules are unfortunately different, or I definitely would!”

The former reality TV star further elaborated in another comment, stating, “Proving malice is one of the toughest things to do. I’ve tried. The rules just don’t favor those in the public eye.”

“I consulted a high power LA attorney (you’ve definitely heard of him) years ago when other ppl were putting crazy stuff out there and that’s what he said,” Gosselin continued. “The courts don’t honor it if you’re in the public eye :(”

When another fan asked whether she’d take the test, the “Jon & Kate Plus 8” alum quipped, “Ha!”

Gosselin’s back and forth with her followers, notably, took place in the comments section of a video documenting her rescue dog journey.

The “Kate Plus Date” alum did not mention Collin in the upload.

The 22-year-old announced last week that his tell-all, “In the Shadow of Eight: Surviving the Reality of My Childhood,” will come out in October.

“Writing this book forced me to revisit some of the hardest moments of my life, but it also gave me something I’ve been searching for for a long time: my voice,” he wrote at the time. “This isn’t the story people think they know. It’s the story I’ve lived.”

Collin went on to make a savage dig at Kate by calling his dad Jon Gosselin’s ex Colleen Conrad his “real mom.”

Additionally, he shared The Post’s Instagram upload about the bombshell book via Stories, highlighting a comment about how “what’s done in darkness will always come to light.”

Collin has been vocal in recent years about allegedly being abused by his mother, with his past quotes resurfacing in the wake of the memoir announcement.

In the October 2025 US Sun interview, Collin brought up lie detector tests as he alleged Kate zip tied his wrists and ankles together while keeping him locked in the basement.

“I would like to invite my mom to do a lie detector test,” he said. “That would be one of the questions, mom, if you’re listening to this. We would ask about the zip ties.”

Collin has lived with dad Jon Gosselin since 2018 and, besides sister Hannah, is estranged from their other sextuplet siblings — Aaden, Joel, Alexis and Leah — as well as 25-year-old twin sisters Madelyn and Cara.

In New Jersey, a man facing charges in the deaths of two young girls initially claimed he was a victim of carjacking. However, a criminal complaint, accessed by News Media, points to evidence from his own dashcam, contradicting his story by showing he drove to the location of the incident himself.

Both 17-year-olds, Maria Niotis and Isabella Salas, were tragically hit while riding an electric bike on September 29, 2025, in Cranford, New Jersey. Prosecutors accuse 18-year-old Vincent Battiloro of deliberately running them over, leading to him being charged as an adult as of Friday.

When questioned at the Cranford Police Department, Battiloro reportedly told detectives he encountered a carjacking earlier that day, claiming an unidentified individual with a red mask and a knife took his vehicle, as stated in the complaint.

Contradicting his claim, police acquired dashcam footage that reportedly negates his version of events.

“The defendant stated he was driving the Jeep Compass that afternoon when he was carjacked by an unknown individual wearing a red mask and armed with a knife,” the complaint states. “Search warrants were executed on the Jeep Compass, and dash camera footage was obtained from the vehicle. The footage from 9/29 showed the defendant getting into and driving the vehicle to the area of Burnside Avenue, where he parked. Shortly thereafter, both victims were seen on the e-bike heading in the opposite direction.”

According to police, Battiloro’s dash camera video showed him getting inside the Jeep Compass on Sept. 29, 2025, and driving to the area of Burnside Avenue in Cranford, near the home of one of the victims. Shortly after he parked, police said both teen girls were seen on electric bicycles headed in the opposite direction.

Detectives said Battiloro then made a U-turn in order to follow the victims while he accelerated. The dash camera video then allegedly shows both girls being struck at a “high rate of speed before the vehicle ultimately stopped,” according to the complaint.

Afterwards, according to the complaint, Battiloro fled the area by foot.

Brent Bramnick, who is representing Niotis’ family, told News Media they are thankful the case was moved to adult court.

“The decision to try the defendant as an adult is a welcomed sliver of justice. We are grateful to the Prosecutor’s Office for their efforts as well as the community at large for continuing to keep Maria and Isabella’s memories alive,” Bramnick said.

Battiloro’s identity was previously withheld because he was a minor when allegedly committing the crimes, but his case was transferred to adult court on Friday. He is now charged with two counts of first-degree murder.

Bramnick previously told News Media that the suspect allegedly swatted the family’s home in Cranford twice in September. He said both incidents took place between Sept. 1 and Sept. 15 in 2025.

After the two incidents, Bramnick said the Niotis family wants to know “what went on?”

“What investigation, if any, went on after all that the family reported and all the information that the police had in their possession. That’s the question. So we need those questions answered,” Bramnick said. “And that’s why we’re involved, because we’re doing our own investigations to try to get to the bottom of those questions.”

Foulla Niotis, Maria’s mother, previously told Fox News previously that the suspect “planned” the attack and thought he was “untouchable” because he had relatives working in law enforcement.

“I want justice for Maria and Isabella. That’s what I want,” she added.

News Media reached out to Battiloro’s attorney and father for comment.

When I first set foot in the Netherlands back in 1992, it wasn’t the unpredictable weather or the unfamiliar tongue that caught my attention, but rather the evident affluence permeating Dutch society. Coming from a place marked by scarcity, the prosperity I witnessed in Western Europe seemed like a whole new world.

If I had to encapsulate the atmosphere of the 1990s in a single term, it would be trust.

People had faith in the integrity of their democratic systems. While elections were significant, they were not life-or-death battles. Generally, citizens felt that policies reflected their choices, especially when their preferred party garnered enough seats to influence the political agenda.

Expectations of absolute triumph were nonexistent; instead, consensus was the core of political life—so deeply rooted that many saw it as a national characteristic to be celebrated.

Transitions of power occurred with dignity, regularity, and a sense of inevitability, allowing everyday life to carry on seamlessly.

From my perspective, the entire exercise looked like a remarkably dull affair. Voters cast their ballots, the numbers were tallied and the politicians retired to backrooms to compromise. Elections were orderly acts of civic routine rather than moments of national crisis. This was not only true of the Netherlands but of all Western Europe.

Over time, however, I noticed subtle shifts. These were not dramatic ruptures of the kind I had known in parts of Africa, where an election could shatter a state overnight. Europe remained peaceful and prosperous. 

Yet beneath that orderly exterior, developments were unfolding that would eventually redefine the relationship between citizens and the state. The decisions that mattered most were becoming increasingly detached from the will of the people.

In the Netherlands, the country I had come to see as a sanctuary of institutional sanity, I watched a strange submission unfold. Its entry into the European Union did not come through a single clear democratic decision, but through a steady accumulation of concessions, each small enough to seem harmless on its own, yet together producing a structural change that few ever explicitly agreed to. Sovereignty was not surrendered in a single moment, but in increments.

The nation ceded its monetary policy to adopt the euro, opened its borders under the Schengen Agreement and gradually transferred more judicial authority to Brussels. Power was transferred to a distant, impenetrable bureaucracy, insulated from the public and justified by a cold logic that no ordinary citizen could challenge. Even as a Member of Parliament, it felt as if we were participants in a system whose destination had already been decided for us.

When I moved to the United States in 2006, I found a political culture that bore no resemblance to what I had known before. The democratic process in America was loud, intensely adversarial and driven by a fierce clash of opposing interests.

The scale alone was staggering. Elections were not confined to national parliaments but extended into every layer of public life: school boards, district attorneys, judges, governors, state legislators. I quickly realized that politics was a continuous, decentralized force shaping the republic itself and I rather liked it.

The strength of the American model is best understood by looking at two pivotal moments that occurred on opposite sides of the Atlantic in 2016. In that year, Britain held a referendum and America held an election. Britain’s vote lent the establishment a bureaucratic nightmare to manage. America’s vote handed the insurgents a presidency to wield: twice! The British system translated revolt into paperwork; the American system translated revolt into power.

In Britain, the Leave vote was a single referendum that then collided with parliamentary rule, party discipline and extensive international obligations. Ten years on, as anyone following British politics knows, voters did not get what they had voted for. The borders, the lighter regulation and the economic growth never arrived; instead, the verdict was managed, renegotiated and diluted into the same opaque, technocratic system the voters had rejected. It was, in miniature, the very pattern I had watched unfold in the Netherlands: sovereignty conceded not in one dramatic vote but through a creeping process, largely hidden from the electorate.

In America, that same insurgent energy found expression in a federal republic where recurring elections enable voters to reaffirm – or withdraw – their mandate at regular intervals. By re-electing Trump in 2024, American voters gave permanence to what had once been dismissed as a protest. And this time, the system produced the exact trifecta that eluded Britain: tighter borders, lighter regulation and renewed growth

The contrast captures my central point. Britain’s revolt was absorbed, while America’s was sustained. The republic offers no guarantee that voters will win on the first try, but it firmly ensures their verdict can never be buried or ignored. It keeps power contested, visible and recoverable until a free people can translate their choice into reality. That, more than any claim to calm or orderly perfection, is what still distinguishes the 250-year-old American republic from the world’s most established democracies.

The men who gathered in Philadelphia possessed a deep, almost scriptural understanding of human nature – recognizing both its capacity for greatness and its inherent fallibility. They understood that a lasting covenant must channel conflict, not outlaw it. It is that pragmatism that keeps the American experiment responsive, turbulent and remarkably adaptable.

While European systems increasingly manage their politics through closed-door governance, the American system keeps decision-making in the arena of public contestation. Where others demand efficiency and seamless alignment, America accepts friction, fragmentation and outright contradiction because it knows they are the price of distributed power.

This does not mean the American system is without danger. The very openness of the system can be exploited by those who would undermine it. But what makes it vulnerable is also what makes it strong. Its willingness to tolerate deep disagreement is precisely what safeguards its power of renewal.

Indeed, one of the most remarkable features of the American republic is its capacity for self‑correction. Over two and a half centuries, it has expanded the franchise, confronted internal injustices and navigated radical economic transformations, all while preserving the foundations of constitutional rule and popular sovereignty. 

To endure for another 250 years, America must ensure that neither the people nor their institutions become trapped by permanent power. Its future will be secured not by preserving every decision, but by preserving the freedom to revisit them.

Ayaan Hirsi Ali is a Research Fellow at the Hoover Institution, Founder of the AHA Foundation and Contributor to the Restoring the West Substack.