Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Mad Liberation: The Missing Piece of The Puzzle

There are a lot of social movements now that are gaining awareness and support in new ways thanks to the global communication the internet has made possible. For example, feminism, Black Lives Matter, climate activism etc. And it’s very encouraging to see that more people are becoming aware of how these all link together too. There’s still a very very long way to go, that’s for sure, and in some ways the enormity can seem overwhelming. But there’s certainly movement happening in these movements, and a lot of passion. But what about mental health? 

When we think of the mental health movement we think of mental health awareness. And for the vast majority of people what they come in contact with under ‘mental health awareness’ is hotline numbers, slogans telling people to reach out, self care tips, and really very repetitive, surface level approaches. The general public does not seem to be aware of the deep issues and abuses in psychiatry, how we view mental health, and how it really impacts all of our lives. In all the fighting for a better future, mad liberation is overlooked, underestimated, misunderstood, or ignored. And that’s damaging for all of us. We cannot be fighting for racial justice, trans rights, and human rights without mad liberation. And yet so few people seem to be aware of it – in fact many people seem scared to approach the topic, which just shows how deeply the stigma and ignorance runs. Maybe, just maybe, mad liberation is the missing piece in the social justice fight. 

Take for example the language we use to describe other social movements – you are a climate activist, a civil rights activist, a human rights activist, but you are a mental health advocate. That’s not to say advocate is a bad word, it is absolutely not, and it’s a badge I’m proud to wear. But to call myself a mental health ‘activist’ sounds wrong. Why? Is it because advocacy feels more acceptable? Perhaps it connotes simply raising awareness within the status quo, continuing to adhere to systems already in place rather than radically opposing them and fighting for change. Maybe not, but I certainly think there’s something in the language.

 Furthermore, why is it always mental health advocate, and rarely mental illness advocate, or madness advocate? For me that sums up the major narrative surrounding the mental health movement, because it focuses on the palatable part that challenges less assumptions and less people, that appeals to everyone. Everyone has mental health, so everyone should care about mental health! Yeah – that’s not wrong. But a lot of people are deemed mentally ill. A lot of people deal with the consequences of madness in this society their entire lives. And the narrative focusing on the easily digestible, easily implemented parts of mental health awareness leaves them behind yet again. It silences and harms them. 

Psychiatry uses mental illness to uphold societal values. Always has. That’s why drapetomania was a proposed mental illness to explain why slaves wanted to escape slavery. That’s why being gay was classified as a mental illness until 1990, and being trans was classified a mental illness until 2019. And that is why one of the major diagnostic criteria for mental illness nowadays is disruption to a person’s ability to work – productivity and fitting into expectations of normality are societal values. 

But people are very rarely encouraged to consider this. They are encouraged to be aware of the signs of common mental illness in the context of deriving from the expectations placed upon us, and recovery in the context of making people be productive citizens again. The common mental health awareness narrative traps us. It does not allow us to redefine healing, to discover the socioeconomic factors in wellbeing, to find community, or to change the pace at which we live. It does not allow us to think about the deeper questions of why, and how can this really be better. 

But what would happen if we questioned? We would hear the voices of psychiatric survivors shouting about the abuse they have endured in the mental health system. We would discover how mental illness and criminalisation are deeply intertwined, and perhaps discover how to create true justice by supporting and liberating people in new ways. We would start to ask, what would happen if we didn’t sedate people into the same reality, but rather found ways to help people incorporate their own reality into their world? We would find new ways of sharing resources, kindness, connection, and changing the pace at which we live. We would find new language to define our human experience. We would free all of us to actually consider what happiness entails. Finally, we would find the link to all the other socioeconomic problems we are facing today, and in doing so find new solutions and progress towards all of them. 

We need to be kind and we need to be supportive, but we don’t need to be afraid to really ask questions about mental health, its presentation, and the treatment of madness as it is. Mental health activism is needed. Mad liberation is needed. But a deep held belief that mad people need protecting – or being protected from – has too often tried to stifle the missing piece in social justice movements. Mad people deserve to be heard, believed, and treated with respect and dignity in social action spaces just like anyone else. 

So I ask the question – is mad liberation the missing piece? 

Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I think it might be. I certainly think solidarity between oppressed, hurting, and caring people is necessary for progress. We won’t fix everything; we will get things wrong. But as long as we keep questioning, and keep learning, we can make a difference. It’s worth a try at the very least.

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Mental Health is Intersectional

Today is a blog reminding everyone of a certain point I try to illuminate all the time through my advocacy: mental health is intersectional. What does this mean? It means mental health is not a stand alone issue; it is connected to all other social justice issues, and all other parts of our lives. Intersectionality is about where these issues cross over, and how they cross over, and how if someone falls in the intersection of more than one (for example are faced with racism and ableism) it can create more problems for them that may be overlooked, ignored, or misunderstood by even the most well intentioned people – myself included. But intersectionality for me also is not just about these disadvantages and discriminations – which are of course very real and very harmful and deserve to be seen. It is also about problem solving, and hope. 

The systemic issue of mental illness and its manifestation in individual people’s lives is not a stand alone issue. So it can be overwhelming to consider in a wider context because how the hell are we supposed to solve everything? I get it. It can be overwhelming, scary, and sometimes makes me want to just give up. But what if we chose to see intersectionality as empowering and a source of hope? Because it means we’re not just isolated as mental health advocates, or people who care about climate justice, or people who are trying to solve poverty. It means we are united as people who care. Understanding intersectionality, and continuing to be aware of how our understanding and circumstances may shift, allows us to be more creative in our solutions and more effective in our actions. 

If we start to realise mental health care also means community care then we are not left helplessly shouting into an abyss; perhaps instead we are empowered to create a community event, or connect with friends in a more intentional way. If we realise mental health care also means food security, then we are empowered to donate to our local food banks and come up with innovative ways to share with our community. If we realise mental health care means antiracism then we are empowered to learn and be intentional in sharing this learning with the next generation. When we realise mental health care is intersectional, we actually create stronger bonds, stronger supports, and stronger futures. 

We cannot shut our eyes to the world around us. But we might have a little bit of power over how we choose to view it. This country is becoming more and more authoritarian, and I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say it is sliding towards fascism in many ways. 

From the 3rd May more laws restricting and criminalising protest – including union action! – will come into effect. Over the weekend over 50 people were arrested for protesting peacefully during the coronation ‘celebrations’ – which cost millions while more people than ever are below the poverty line. A country without protest is not a democracy. A country where the gap between rich and poor continues to widen with government support is not looking after its citizens. We cannot ignore this and we cannot allow this, and we have to recognise how it relates to all our social justice issues. How can we ever hope to see a country with good mental health if people do not have free speech and cannot afford to eat? 

The good news is, resistance isn’t one size fits all. And understanding intersectionality can allow us to fight back in an effective, loving way. If everyone who can supports their food bank and creates community driven initiatives to eradicate food insecurity, the government can’t ignore it. If the artists create art, and the people who can protest go to protests, and the workers all strike, then it sends a message loud and clear that they can try all they want, but we aren’t having it. We care about each other and we want to see a brighter future. And that big message starts with small actions. It starts with having a conversation, donating a can of beans, drawing a picture, and offering to help out a neighbour. Even if you’re only making a difference to one person, and even if that person is you, you are still making a difference. Never think you cannot make a difference; it’s at least worth a try. However that looks for you, even if it looks like rest right now. You matter. And it all intersects. 

Sending so much love and support to you all today xxx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Why Do We Pathologize Pain?

We’ve come to pathologize emotional pain and human distress. That’s to say, we’ve come to medicalise it – give it labels that make it into a medical problem. And of course this serves a purpose in our society and our systems; I personally am hugely grateful for my mental health diagnoses because they help me understand myself and how I view the world. But the term ‘pathologizing’ goes beyond just medicalising emotions. It defines the problem that ensues from medicalising our emotions. 

According to the Cambridge dictionary, pathologizing means: ‘the act of unfairly or wrongly considering something or someone as the problem, especially a medical problem’. This is something we see in mental health spaces all the time, with very little awareness of it. The way we discuss mental illness is so often through an individual lens. We ignore how the modern world’s expectations affect what we see as disordered – for example a huge criteria for mental illness diagnosis is a lack of productivity. But productivity is defined by societal norms and expectations. We label someone as depressed, saying they have a chemical imbalance while ignoring the fact that they are living in poverty and perhaps if they weren’t their mental health would look very different. At best we say that these external factors are simply contributors and not an essential part of our human experience; we ignore how we define was is disordered or not entirely. 

There’s a million problems with this. It prevents us from trying to build a better world in a more informed way. It isolates sufferers and prevents them from getting the kind of care – like housing, community, less workload – that they actually need. I could go on and on about this (and I do quite often!) but today I want to answer the question – why do we do this?

Well pathologization stems in many ways from medicalisation. I think there’s benefits and issues within this itself, but it’s understandable why we do this. By giving clear criteria for diagnosis in a medical format it would seem we can more easily start a larger number of people getting treatment. Unfortunately this isn’t the case, but in theory this would seem to make that easier. It also allows us to have some kind of framework to understand ourselves and more easily find others who may have a similar experience – it has certainly helped me with this! And in theory it would help others have a doorway to understanding people with a mental illness by looking at it through a medical lens, so they would know how to start approaching the problem. Furthermore it also gives a structure for how we can syphon off funding for mental health care by making it a wholly medical service. All logical and on the surface optimistic reasons to medicalise emotional pain. 

But soon we see the problems come in such as trying to ‘fix’ people to medical standards too rather than to their own standards. We start seeing people as the medical problems rather than as people with diverse experiences. We try to fit people into one route for fixing the issue because that’s easier. Medical problems need medical solutions right? Medication and hospitalisation rather than community and economic support. We see them as scores and issues. And soon we are pathologizing them. The individuals become the problem they present with, and when the one-size-fits-all treatment doesn’t work, we assume it must be the individual’s fault. 

Maybe it’s just a natural progression from medicalisation then? But maybe it’s also a symptom of the way our western society functions as a whole. We are not exactly encouraged to see ourselves in the context of the world around us. We’re told we are individuals and isolated in many ways – so it would make sense that we see our problems as individual problems that need isolated solutions. So simply because of the way we have learned to exist in the world we don’t think to see our emotional distress as interconnected. 

Then of course, as already mentioned, we live in a society driven by productivity at ever increasing speeds. We have an intolerance for difference, for people who need different support or cannot fit themselves into the world’s expectations of them. So we need to label them as disordered rather than face the idea that the way the systems are running isn’t working. It negates society’s responsibility to change and accommodate. But the thing is as the world gets faster, the economy gets worse, pressures get bigger, more and more people are finding themselves with mental health issues. Do you really think this is a coincidence? The world is becoming more and more incompatible with human rhythms of nature, so more people are finding themselves in distress. But also if the expectations shift to demand more of us or different things from us, then whatever behaviour doesn’t fit those expectations ends up being labelled as disordered. 

And maybe it’s fear – we don’t want to face that we share emotions with someone with schizophrenia or bipolar. We don’t want to admit we relate to an autistic person, or can kind of see the sense in what that psychotic person is saying. We are scared that the difference lives in us too, maybe? And again – we have not learnt the skills to be able to conceptualise how others may live differently to us through their perceptions of the world. We have not learnt tolerance, nor we have not learnt to question the status quo – because it would threaten the status quo. 

I think we pathologize pain because it’s the easiest thing to do when everything else seems so overwhelming. But we can begin to change this simply by opening ourselves to compassion; opening ourselves to a different narrative. We are all human and we are allowed to have deeply painful, wonderful, beautiful human experiences. That means sobbing our eyes out or seeing shadows no one else can. Feeling does not make us the problem. 

Hopefully that made some kind of sense, my little brain ramblings on the internet. Sending so much love and support xxx

Posted in Advocacy, Managing Mental Health, Mental Health

Reframing Healing

We receive a lot of messages, consciously and subconsciously, about what healing is. I have my own opinions, some of which will be evident in this post, but I think one of the most important things to keep in mind is what does healing mean to you? There may be limitations to our ideas of a dream life, because we don’t live in a vacuum, but only you get to decide what your healing actually means and looks like. Unfortunately it’s something that is quite overlooked in a lot of mental health spaces, and we’re not often encouraged to really define it for ourselves. But that doesn’t mean we can’t. 

Personally, an important part in redefining healing for myself has been understanding what I’ve been taught about healing. A lot of what I’ve learnt is to see ‘getting better’ as this hyper-individualistic thing. We’re told that ‘getting better’ is about becoming a productive member of society again, going back to work full time, having more output, and living up to the expectations placed on us. A lot of therapy is often about this idea – it’s about mitigating the factors that get in the way of productivity rather than fostering genuine happiness. The idea of compliance and non-compliance in the mental health system is a huge part of reinforcing this and getting in the way of anyone who needs to stop and question whether this striving for efficiency under societal norms is actually what they need. 

We don’t live in a vacuum, so I think it’s only logical to suggest that we don’t heal in a vacuum either. And yes it is possible to have personal peace without those around you experiencing the same, but that’s not to say our healing is entirely individual. We are connected; we are even a part of nature. When bears hibernate or trees shed their leaves we don’t look at them and say they should be doing more, they should be doing better; we understand that they are in a season of their life. Yet we so often fail to extend this same understanding and grace to ourselves. We are a part of nature too, and so we are connected to those around us and every part of the world around us. It is only logical to think we should lean into this connection and these seasons to find peace. So I would say healing is community. Healing is working together. Not in order to fix or mend one broken individual, but to recognise what in our living, breathing system of life contributed to their pain in the first place, and to heal all of us. I’ve found that when I am held by a community, only then am I able to find my own inner peace. 

We also seem to see healing as this end destination – we arrive at ‘healed’ and then we continue there as before… until maybe we need to be healed again. But I don’t see it like this. Healing is an ongoing, every day process for me. Just like I see myself as a continually ‘recovering’ alcoholic, I also see myself as a continually ‘healing’ person. Partly because there are new challenges to life every day; partly because I have chronic mental illness; and partly because I see healing in a larger sense too, one of societal healing. That can be hard to conceive sometimes, or to not get wrapped up in. But I see it as a source of hope rather than a drain of hope. A source of power. That healing, as an ongoing, everyday practice, also means trying to help others and be connected with their struggles. Trying to learn how we can all work together to do better, to build better infrastructure, to break the chains and patterns of the past, to move forwards.

So what does healing mean to you? Does healing mean connection? Does healing mean going back to the life you had before? Or is that just the easiest life to imagine? Does healing mean productivity, or does it mean inner happiness and peace? What do you need to see that realised? Is healing individual, or collective, or aided by the collective? Is healing a destination or a journey? 

I’m not saying there’s one right way to redefine healing. It is personal in how it manifests in our lives, but the very fact that so many out there are healing and recovering shows that while it is personal, it is not individual. And I think the mental health system needs to recognise that too. 

Sending all of my love and support to you today xxx

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Write to MP About Mental Health System

Writing letters to our MPs about important issues can feel like hitting our heads against a brick wall. I get it. Our government is failing us in about every way possible at the moment while continuing to introduce increasingly more constricting and draconian laws that limit our freedoms and right to democracy. Nonetheless, I still maintain that there may be hope to be found in raising our voices. The more people that stand up against issues the harder it becomes to ignore – and it could even be argued that it’s up to us to believe in hope even when they aren’t giving us much reason to. One of the easiest ways to raise your voice is by writing to your MP. They may not be able to do anything directly or immediately, but they are our representatives and can bring our concerns to the table. Imagine if every person in your district wrote in about the same issue – it would be pretty hard to ignore. Anyone of any age can write to their MP, and you can even email them. 

Our mental health system is in crisis; it’s built on harm and it is perpetuating that harm. And it cannot be fixed just by increasing its funding – you can’t fund a broken system and expect it to fix itself. So we need to raise the alarm and raise our voices. Below I have written a very short template for writing to your MP about the mental health system. To use simply:

  1. Use this website to find out who your MP is and what their email address is: https://www.writetothem.com/
  2. Copy and paste the template below into an email 
  3. Replace the generic details in italics with your MP’s name and your own information 
  4. Add in your own message or questions 
  5. Hit send 

It’s that simple. And it may seem small, but you never know if the small individual actions we take will add together as a collective. It’s worth a try if nothing else. And remember, if they don’t reply or give a satisfactory reply, you can keep writing to them! Don’t let this be an issue that goes unheard. So here’s the template (just a general content warning for topics relating to mental health here such as suicide):

Dear [insert MP’s name],

I am writing to you today because I am incredibly concerned about the state of our mental health system. It is clear to me that the mental health system continues to fail all of us, especially the most vulnerable in our society. As I’m sure you’ll understand this is an incredibly serious issue, with people’s lives at risk. 

The suicide rate in England and Wales was 6.9% higher in 2021 than in 2020, a trend that has been continuing over many years despite supposed attempts by the government to address mental health issues. For example – the rollout and continued expansion of IAPT that is meant to provide early and easy access to psychological therapies but has since been found to be skewing their own data by several studies. The University of Chester found their actual recovery rate to be just 23% by their own measures (which can include clinically insignificant improvements) as opposed to their claimed 46%. However a large meta-analysis found that 23% of patients with depression spontaneously overcome their symptoms in three months anyway which would render IAPT irrelevant. Despite this it continues to be heralded as a success with no one speaking up about the failures and the people it leaves to the wayside. 

That is the most basic level of treatment and doesn’t even begin to reveal the long waiting times, criminalization of mental illness and failures of the Mental health act, abuse within inpatient treatment, how risk of suicide actually increases after inpatient treatment, lack of appropriate and individualised care, lack of any support for young people, or obsession with productivity instead of personal happiness in recovery. Even within the last six months we have heard about the cases of more young people who have died while in inpatient care –  Christie Harnett, Nadia Sharif, Emily Moore, Charlie Millers, Beth Matthews, and Lauren Bridges. People are falling through the cracks, and being actively harmed by the system. People are dying. It is unacceptable and it cannot be allowed to go on. 

[Insert any personal experience or thoughts here]

Therefore I implore you to research more into the truth of the mental health system and the harm it has caused to so many. And I ask you – what will you do, as representative of this community, to raise the voice of our concern about the mental health system? What will you do to push for change? What will you do to support the mental health of young people in this community? What will you do mitigate the compounding and intersectional issues with mental health (ie. racism, food insecurity, transphobia, poverty)? 

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter and I look forward to hearing your response, 

Kind Regards, 

[Insert your name, address, and contact information here – remember, without an address you will not receive a response!]

Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health, therapy

Issues with IAPT

Disclaimer: Before I dive into the issues with IAPT I just want to clarify that this blog is in no way intended to discredit anyone’s positive experience with IAPT or discourage anyone from using the service. IAPT could still be a piece in the puzzle of helping you find the right support. I am purely highlighting issues that some people face because everyone deserves to have a positive experience of mental health care – if the mental health system can’t adapt to different needs, then it needs to change. This post is about raising awareness of the gaps within that system, and the plaster solution that IAPT has become. Because we all deserve better – it could be you or any of your loved ones needing a more comprehensive, long term and personal care plan. And I would hope that the door was always wide open for you to receive the support you need.

With that said, let me give you an introduction to what IAPT is. IAPT stands for Improving Access to Psychological Therapies. If you are an adult and go to the doctor with a mental health concern, you are likely to be referred to this service as one of the first ports of call. It was rolled out in 2006 and there are now around 220 IAPT services in the UK. It offers patients a limited number (usually 6, up to 12) of sessions with a counsellor using CBT – Cognitive Behaviour Therapy. And it’s true that rolling out this service greatly reduced the 8-12 month waiting time for psychological therapy in 2005, which is great, but that doesn’t mean it provides a greater level of care. 

So let’s look at the information I’ve just noted. CBT focuses on changing thought patterns and behaviours of individuals – which by definition is not suitable for anyone who’s mental health is being impacted by the situation they are in. It’s true that CBT skills can be incredibly useful in helping us cope with day to day life, giving us the tools to reframe our experience so it becomes bearable and our thoughts less consuming. But that doesn’t mean it’s perfect by any means, nor suitable for everyone. For example many autistic people have likened the approach of CBT to gaslighting; it just isn’t suitable for application with neurodiverse thought patterns in many. For many others too it simply doesn’t provide the all round support they need – the therapy sessions are not designed to hold space for the person, explore route causes that will continue to be present, or brainstorm ways to change the situation they are in. It can provide people with a quick fix to a singular problem, but lacks a long term approach. 

However, it’s the only framework offered with IAPT, already excluding many from the help they need. Especially because if someone goes through with IAPT treatment they may be seen as already having support and having to face longer waiting times; likewise if they refuse to continue this raises the issue of non-compliance. Non-compliance is a complicated label used in the mental health system sometimes that essentially labels patients as unwilling to try and help themselves and makes it harder for them to access support, simply because the support they refused was not suitable or accessible to them. This is a systematic issue of not providing individualised care, but instead it is labelled as a personal fault and the burden is borne by the individual. 

Even for the people CBT framework does suit, the IAPT programme offers such limited sessions that it’s arguable how much long term support and healing they actually offer. 6 sessions is simply not enough in my eyes. What about the people with more complex issues? The people that learn slower? The people that need time to build a secure relationship with a therapist before they feel confident to start working with them? They are all being left behind by the existing IAPT service. 

None of this is surprising when we look at the roots of how the IAPT service came to be. In 2005 Lord Layard – an economist by trade addressing the economic costs incurred due to mental health crisis – and David Clark – a professor of psychology championing CBT – pitched their idea for IAPT to a board room full of government officials. They pitched it through the economic benefits that providing a cheap service that got people back to work could reap, easing the £12 billion cost of depression each year. Though I understand why so often proposals have to be pitched through an economic lens rather than a moral or social one, I do think it’s very sad. And I think in many ways shows why this system isn’t working. We’re approaching the issue of the mental health crisis wrong if we’re approaching it from a perspective of getting people back to work. Mental health doesn’t exist in a vacuum and is deeply intertwined with all aspects of society which we cannot simply ignore addressing when looking to help mental health. Furthermore, healing is not actually about productivity – this is considering healing through the eyes of someone else looking in on a life trying to define quantifiable proof of them getting better in a way that is palatable to society. Healing is internal and personal; our current mental health system does not recognise or allow space for this in our society. 

Nonetheless IAPT was heralded as an astounding success in the mental health sector worldwide for its quick rollout and wide reach. But in 2010 Dr Micheal Scott – a clinical psychologist at the University of Manchester – began to question the success of IAPT when assessing its patients. He was hearing many stories of patients with bad experiences of the programme who found it useless, dropped out, or pretended to be better to make it end quicker. He decided he needed to look further at how the effectiveness of IAPT therapy was being assessed in order to discover if it was really as great as it was claimed to be. 

The first thing of interest he discovered was that IAPT was responsible for collecting all the data on its own performance – there were no external reviews or assessments taking place. I think many of us will know that this is a bad scientific practice for collecting and understanding data – there should always be peer reviews. So he conducted an assessment to discover the true recovery rates. 

He began by reviewing the cases of 65 people. I’ll admit that’s not a lot, but stick with me here. Scott used various procedures for a robust review including in-depth interviews, diagnostic assessments, and evaluating medical records. His results showed that no matter the condition, only 16% could be considered as recovering. This is woefully below the 46% reported by IAPT themselves – and with good reason. IAPT’s method of assessing recovery rates only included those that completed treatment with them and neglected to count the half of patients who dropped out of treatment. The fact that half of patients drop out of treatment at all is a huge indicator that the programme is failing anyway, but the correct way to conduct research would be to include them in the data. By omitting them IAPT are artificially increasing their recovery rate. I would also add here that even their self-proclaimed 46% could be much higher with proper individualised, socio-culturally aware treatment plans. 

Scott’s admittedly small study isn’t the only one either. The University of Chester’s larger study found a 23% recovery rate, still much lower than IAPT’s claim. And that’s before even considering what IAPT deems recovery to mean. I’ve already explained that IAPT was built around the idea of getting people back to work, and so it’s unsurprising that the programme focuses on getting people back to what are viewed as functioning members of society rather than personally happy with their healing journey. 

This is seen reflected in how IAPT reviews patients progress. At the start of the therapy questionnaires are conducted that rate how depressed or anxious you are, and then again at the end of the therapy. If at the end of the therapy you score lower you are considered to have improved. If you scored just above the clinical threshold for depression at the start of the therapy (let’s say the threshold is 10 and you scored 11) and by the end of the therapy you score just below (let’s say 9) then you are considered recovered by IAPT. But in reality you’ve only dropped 2 points and are likely still experiencing emotional complications in your life! They’re now just not considered inconvenient enough to others to be clinically notable, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t hugely significant to you. You might not feel ‘recovered’ at all. And the scale is really sensitive anyway – you can move around 5-7 points simply by sleeping and concentrating a little better. 

Furthermore , IAPT doesn’t even conduct a control group meaning there’s no way to know if the 23% ‘recovering’ would have improved slightly without IAPT at all. In fact a recent meta-analysis (meaning examination of lots of data from different individual studies) showed that a total 23% of people suffering with depression spontaneously overcame their symptoms within three months without receiving any treatment. Which aligns with the 23% recovering from IAPT exactly, suggesting that the service is totally irrelevant. Yet it is often the only service offered to those struggling, many of whom will continue to struggle unsupported. Real lives are in the balance, and the system is trying to stick a plaster over the issue that doesn’t even work. 

This doesn’t even begin to touch on the deep issues for workers within the IAPT services, who are struggling hugely themselves and being crushed under a culture of form filling and goal hitting heralded above actually providing support. An ex-IAPT lead said, in an interview with James Davies: “To hit the waiting list targets we’d offer people some minor intervention but it was not what they really needed – it was what we could offer to get higher results”. And there lies the problem in a nutshell – people are not being offered the help they so desperately need. And how could they in a system that values goals, productivity and economy above people’s lives? How could they in a system that is built on societal expectations, harm, and conformity? How could they in a system that isn’t working to face the deep intersectional issues of the day? How could they in a system that is underfunded and in desperate need of reform? 

I recognise that criticising the mental health system is a complicated thing to do, because it’s where we hope to find help. But the reality is that it falls short. I do have hope it can improve; I have hope in our communities and our efforts to see better care. And I do know that despite a failing system people can recover – by their own standards – and live bright lives. But I know too it shouldn’t be so hard to get support, for anyone. 

So here are some calls to action! What you can do to help: 

  1. Most of the information in this post comes from James Davies’ book ‘Sedated: How Modern Capitalism Created Our Mental Health Crisis’. I would recommend that everyone read this book to educate themselves further 
  2. Sign up to Mind’s newsletter to find out about their campaigns for better mental health care 
  3. Write to your MP about the failing mental health system and demand care that is individually tailored, socio-culturally aware, and focuses on personal healing not productivity 
  4. Share this post and have conversations with people in your life about the mental health system – all change starts with a conversation 

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know any thoughts or questions you have in the comments below. Sending so much love and support to you all today 🙂 

Sources:

https://www.nice.org.uk/about/what-we-do/our-programmes/nice-advice/iapt#:~:text=What%20is%20IAPT%3F,with%20anxiety%20disorders%20and%20depression.

‘Sedated: How Modern Capitalism Created Our Mental Health Crisis’ by James Davies 

https://www.madinamerica.com/2022/06/uk-iapt-abject-failure/#:~:text=We%20identified%20a%20series%20of,of%20misdiagnosis%20and%20inappropriate%20treatment.

Layard, Richard (2005), ‘Mental Health: britain’s biggest social problem?’, paper presented at No. 10 strategy unit seminar on mental health, 20 January 2005 

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