Rough guess: between 2-5% of people writing about madness in the media and online know what they’re talking about. I don’t include myself in that figure, because I’m still developing my thinking and have quite a bit more to learn about the field, but I’m fast getting there. The thing is, if it’s only 2%, how come?
What with the fact that psychiatry is heavily about engineering conformity to norms along with what I wrote last time about the copycat element of ‘self-harming’ not to mention the placebo effect involved in anti-depressants’ successes, I can’t help but link in the success of orthodox psychiatry’s powerful position with studies pointing to poorly considered conformity to authority and status.
Indeed, the success of neo-Kraepelin psychiatry’s smoke and mirrors can be equated with the way the toothpaste brands used to sell us their products on TV, with an actor dressed in a lab suit using pseudo-scientific phrases about whiter than white. What with bio-reductionist psychiatry flying in the face of science, along with the disempowered helplessness of people persuaded by the constructed pathologizing of much ‘normal’ behaviour, not to mention more transgressive thoughts and acts, I have to wonder whether psychiatry’s success in pulling the wool over most people’s eyes is down to little more than disempowerment by misinformation and conformity to what’s seen as a higher order.
It’s easy to stereotype dissenters when you’re living within the confines of traditional psychiatry. They must be scientologists, they’re in denial, they’re dinosaurs compared with our modernity, and so on. But, because I’ve been on both sides, now, it should be easier to see the terrain of this debate in better ways. Going on my own experiences (and having transformed them), then, I’ve often rebelled against the system only to find myself, once medicated, at the disempowering extreme of complete conformity to the norms and values of the system and my locale – both fairly reactionary and conservative – which I’m not ordinarily instep with philosophically.
In your conformity, though, you also face abandoning any argument that risks true analysis and clarity of the true state of affairs by putting such questioning and doubt down to illness in the face of what can be the overwhelming opinion of those around you, especially on mental health wards, not to mention online, in the media and, well, in society in general. You fail to even begin to realise that there are many ways of perceiving and acting around popular conceptions of causal factors and mental states, pathologized and decontextualised or otherwise. Sometimes, in desperation and the absence of any understanding of the possibility of better alternatives, you may want to believe in something – anything – and traditional psychiatry increasingly fits the bill, backed by limited perceptions and blatant falsehoods almost everywhere you look.
You maintain what many in the system have long experience of – inadequate reasoning, poor problem-solving skills and other common features of problematic relationships – to reject good arguments and laud the bad, especially when these come in the form of the sales techniques of toothpaste manufacturers. You sacrifice empowerment over even information by surrendering your mind and senses to the wit of people who don’t tell you the truth about iatrogenic effects, causal factors, how psychiatry really conducts itself across the board from research to treatment, diagnostic irregularities, and so on, but instead give an air of authority and prestige in making many declarations about things of which there’s no certainty on the one hand and make-believe on the other.
This isn’t to say that people who advocate neo-Kraepelin psychiatry are bad people. I’ve yet to meet anyone in the system who, at some stage, I didn’t think went into the service of people to help them. But the fact that their work is based on a belief system that flies in the face of reliable science means that what you’ll often find – in the rare moments when there is the chance of effective debate – is the very type of reasoning errors and bogus stunts that can look so reasonable to those who often know little better because of their past exposure to similar ways of arguing: for example, shooting the messenger, giving incomplete evidence, not engaging with arguments when you don’t have the evidence so you don’t have to admit it, ‘Crucible’ logic and the prestige suggestion so heavily involved in also selling toothpaste.
That, by my very rough estimate, merely 2% of people in the media and online actually know what they’re talking about when they discuss madness, could say many things to many people. To me it isn’t a sign of an open and shut case according to popular opinion (though I could easily become derogatory in arguing that). Instead, it says that there’s a societal problem around norms, prestige and empowerment (not to mention professional, financial and political interests) which needs an overhaul in radical and creative ways.
Earlier today, I read a tweet by a prominent psychiatrist apparently debunking a theory about madness. He was wrong in fact and dubious in his casual populism. The temptation was to engage him. I didn’t bother, partly because of the reasons outlined in this post, but also partly because, despite everything, I didn’t want to just in case I was had, as I also buy toothpaste based on the dubious claims of actors in lab suits.