The Rise of Mental Health America

There was a fascinating opinion piece in the New York Times this weekend titled “ “Doing the Work” and The Obsession with Superficial Self-Improvement” by Jessica Grose. Unfortunately, it may be behind the subscriber pay-wall—and so I’ll crib portions of it as quotes here. I knew I had to read the piece the minute I saw the title, especially the “Superficial Self-Improvement” part. SO MUCH of what one sees today in the news and social media is little more than vapid self-affirmation and calorie-free navel-gazing under the guise of (as Grose puts it) “doing the work”. I found her skepticism appealing:

I confess a visceral aversion to “doing the work” used in this particular way. My gut reaction is: I simply decline to do more work. My life is already filled with many kinds of labor. I work full time; I cook dinner every night; I shuttle my children to and fro. I’m not asking for a medal here. This is just what’s in many people’s inboxes. But does tending to my mind and soul have to be framed as yet another job, another box to check, another task to optimize and conquer?

She continues:

I asked Waldman over email what she made of my aversion. She also finds “doing the work” a “uniquely annoying phrase” and explained that it “can come off as patronizing.” It implies that our big issues in life “are simple and clear-cut, that everyone agrees on what they are and that the only reason a problem hasn’t been solved is because somebody isn’t working hard enough.”

But the part I loved best was this:

And when you notice something like this on social media, it’s a safe bet that there’s an aspect of performance at play: “Do the work” isn’t just about doing the work; it’s about being perceived as a person who does the work. This kind of superficial therapeutic halo was noted by Mychal Denzel Smith in an Opinion guest essay last year titled “Why Do People Think Going to Therapy Makes You a Good Person?” Smith interviewed therapists who “confirmed the idea that people are going to therapy without a goal broader than ‘working on themselves’ and sometimes to show others that they are working on themselves. This, they said, can sometimes make sessions slightly confusing or rudderless.”

Man, does she put her finger on it. We are a nation addicted to self, to the point where we believe that not only are our individual pathologies worth celebrating, but that our attempts to deal with them are rightfully public spectacle, worthy of acclaim. The irony of all this is that while generally quite mentally healthy people fixate for public acceptance on their bad habits and social challenges, truly mentally ill people are roaming the streets and slaughtering fellow citizens due to our collective decision that their privacy and freedom was more important than public safety. We have fetishized everyday fears and anxieties formerly housed within one’s own mind, even as we ignore true mental illness.

We overshare, we confuse chatter with improvement, and we expect hosanas when a hearty “STFU” might be more appropriate. Social media connects us with others that share our pathologies creating echo-chamber affinity groups amplifying worthless affirmation.

All of this—all of it—seems to me to be born of the continuing breakdown of community as we pursue empty self-actualization. Don’t get me wrong—I believe our society would prosper if each of us spent time dealing with our own demons. But there is more to life than living in one’s own head, and sharing one’s internal life far and wide is not it.

Shaking My Damn Head