Stigma in crisis: mental health, fear-mongering and murder

Opposition to having a charity-run mental health crisis centre in your street is both very telling and depressingly predictable.

Reading the objections to the Planning Permission application, you would think that they were proposing a hostel for unrepentant murderers, not a charity-run mental health centre. Rethink recently submitted an application to turn a house in Sheffield suburb into a “safe haven” crisis house for people experiencing mental health problems, and the opposition they have faced is both very telling and depressingly predictable.

The plan is to provide a place where a maximum of six people can stay for no longer than a week when their mental health is deteriorating towards a crisis point. The converted semi would offer a safe environment where they could receive intensive emotional support, and would also house a 24-hour helpline.

Along with complaints about increased traffic on the street, many local residents oppose the crisis house on the basis that children live on the street and walk to school, and the theme of “danger, danger” is seen throughout. One person complains that people who are unwell “will be frightning (sic) to local residents and may cause risk to children and other people in the area”, while another says that, “I would be reluctant to allow [my young teenager] to return from school unaccompanied if I thought there was a risk of her having to deal with difficult situations arising from this”.

Another uses carefully chosen (dare I say cherry picked?) statistics to prove just how likely residents will be to be murdered if this goes ahead (clue: there will barely be a survivor in the entire city), and the overall message is that those experiencing mental distress are to be feared, avoided, and ostracised. In short, they are most definitely “other”.

Many of those who object to the building's change of use do agree in principle that such facilities are worthwhile and important, they just do not think this one should be on their own street.

Some of the objections are also bewildering in their naïveté. When one woman explains that, “This is a quiet leafy suburb and I am not overreacting when I feel concern about the fact that we cannot be sure of who is coming and going”, I do wonder if she realises that this is the case, crisis house or not. The thing is, with the numbers of people experiencing mental health problems in the general population being so high this community, like all others, already has people experiencing mental distress in its midst anyway. They may not broadcast their difficulties but perhaps this is not surprising: the strength of feeling from those who commented on the planning application is pretty representative of the attitudes towards mental ill-health in our entire society.

So, let's start with the facts. 95 per cent of murders are committed by people who do not have a diagnosed mental health issue. Given that 25 per cent of the population can experience mental health problems, sane people appear to be statistically far more dangerous to be around. And people experiencing psychosis – those that the public seem to be the most afraid of – are 14 times more likely to be the victim of violent crime than they are to commit it.

Rethink are clear that nobody would stay in the house if they were thought to be a risk. They would be in hospital.

When somebody is in crisis they can either stay at home (where they are somebody's neighbour), go into hospital, or go into a crisis house for a few days. Kate Wareham, Rethink's regional Associate Director explained to me: “the intention is that we prevent people's illness escalating to the point where they require a hospital admission. We provide a safe, secure environment for people when they are experiencing a mental health crisis”. It will be used by people who accept that they need a bit of extra support for a while, and if Nether Edge residents (who are replicated the entire country over whenever mental health facilities are proposed) think that stopping the crisis house before it starts means they will have nobody experiencing mental distress living near them, they are seriously misguided. As Kate pointed out, “These people already live in Sheffield! These are people in the community”.

Planning permission has been granted to the facility, and Rethink really want to work with the local community, aware that many service users will not want to go to a crisis house where local people fear them. When someone needs a safe haven, they do not want to come up against this stigma and opposition to the care they need.

Stigma like this does have wide-ranging effects, all of them damaging. It means that the first response, when a horrific massacre takes place in the US, is instant speculation on the killer's mental health status; it means that people with mental health problems can't get a job when they want to work; it means that people feel isolated and excluded; it means people get physically and verbally abused; it means not getting physical health problems taken seriously; and it means that some people don't seek treatment that they desperately need because they are so afraid of what people will think.

Prejudice and bigotry are never pretty, and I'm more worried about children being taught to fear those who are distressed than I am about the statistically tiny threat from somebody who is undergoing treatment and receiving help. If they grow up believing that their own, or other people's, mental health problems will mean they will commit violent disorder and exhibit frightening behaviour, the stigma will continue to grow. Instead, we need to understand that many people experience mental distress, and that some of them will need more help than others. Putting barriers in the way of those people will only exacerbate their problems and their isolation. Society must move to a position of compassion and humanity towards this significant percentage of the population who currently experience it as anything but compassionate and humane.

How would you feel about having a mental health centre on your street? Photograph: Getty Images
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"Labour are as pro-Brexit as the Tories": what do Sinn Fein's MPs really want from Westminster?

Its seven MPs are much less sympathetic to Corbyn's party than popularly imagined, and won't ever take their seats.

Should the Conservative minority government fall, what is Jeremy Corbyn’s route to power? The counterfactual as popularly understood goes like this: Corbyn would pick up the phone to his old pal Gerry Adams and convince Sinn Fein’s seven MPs to abandon the habit of a century and take their seats.

There are countless reasons why this would never happen, most of them obvious. One is more surprising. Despite Corbyn’s longstanding links with the republican cause, the Labour party is not all that popular among a new intake, which is preoccupied with one thing above all else: Brexit.

No wonder. Sinn Fein’s long game is an all-Ireland one, and the party believe the UK’s departure from the EU will hasten reunification. In the meantime, however, its priority is a Brexit deal that gives Northern Ireland – where 56 per cent of voters backed remain – designated status within the EU.

Pioneered by the moderate nationalist Social Democratic and Labour Party as an antidote to Brexit, designated status would allow the six counties in the North to continue to enjoy the EU’s four freedoms. But the idea is anathema to unionists and the UK government, and Sinn Fein sees little evidence that the Westminster establishment will make it work – not even Labour.

“They are as pro-Brexit as the Conservatives are,” says Mid Ulster MP Francie Molloy. “We’re anti-Brexit. We want to see the right of the people in the North who voted to remain in Europe respected.”

Simmering resentment over what the party perceives to have been broken promises on Tony Blair’s part – especially over legal protection for the Irish language, a key stumbling block obstructing the resumption of power-sharing – makes the already implausible deal even less likely.

“The Irish language act was something that Blair agreed to,” says Molloy. “So when people talk about us taking our seats, they don’t realise we would be backing a Labour government that wouldn’t be living up to its commitments either, and would be just as pro-Brexit as the Conservatives are."

That criticism may well surprise a lay audience whose working assumption is that Adams and Corbyn work hand in glove. But it is perhaps the best illustration of Sinn Fein’s parliamentary priorities: its seven MPs will not in any circumstances take their seats but use their Westminster presence to lobby ministers and MPs of all stripes while running constituency offices at home (they are unsalaried, but claim expenses).

Crucially, its MPs believe abstentionism strengthens, rather than weakens their negotiating hand: by their logic other parties need not and do not fear them given the fact they do not have voting power.

They will use their leverage to agitate for special status above all else. “Special status is the biggest issue that we are lobbying for,” says Molloy. “We feel that is the best way of securing and retaining EU membership. But if we get a referendum on Irish unity and the people vote for that, then the North will automatically join the EU.”

But that wasn’t always the received wisdom. That assurance was in fact secured by Mark Durkan, the former deputy first minister and SDLP MP beaten by Sinn Fein last week, after an exchange with Brexit secretary David Davis at the leaving the EU select committee. The defeat of the three SDLP MPs – two of them by Sinn Fein – means there will be no Irish nationalist voice in the commons while Brexit is negotiated.

Surely that’s bad news for Northern Irish voters? “I don’t think it is,” says Molloy. “The fact we took two seats off the SDLP this time proves abstentionism works. It shows they didn’t deliver by attending. We have a mandate for abstentionism. The people have now rejected attendance at Westminster, and rejected Westminster itself. We’ve never been tempted to take our seats at all. It is very important we live by our mandate.”

If they did, however, they would cut the Conservatives’ and Democratic Unionist Party’s working majority from 13 to a much more precarious six. But Molloy believes any alliance will be a fundamentally weak one and that all his party need do is wait. “I think it’ll be short-lived,” he says. “Every past arrangement between the British government and unionist parties has always ended in tears.”

But if the DUP get its way – the party has signed a confidence and supply deal which delivers extra cash for Northern Ireland – then it need not. Arlene Foster has spoken of her party’s desire to secure a good deal for the entire country. Unsurprisingly, however, Sinn Fein does not buy the conciliatory rhetoric.

“They’ve never really tried to get a good deal for everybody,” says Michelle Gildernew, who won the hyper-marginal of Fermanagh and South Tyrone back from the Ulster Unionists last week. “The assembly and executive [which Sinn Fein and the DUP ran together] weren’t working for a lot of groups – whether that was the LGBT community, the Irish language community, or women...they might say they’re going to work for everybody, but we’ll judge them by their actions, not their words.”

Molloy agrees, and expresses concern that local politicians won’t be able to scrutinise new spending. “The executive needs to be up and running to implement that, and to ensure a fair distribution. If there’s new money coming into the North, we welcome that, but it has to be done through the executive.”

On current evidence, the call for local ministers to scrutinise the Conservatives’ deal with the DUP is wishful thinking – Northern Ireland has been without an executive since February, when the late Martin McGuinness resigned as deputy first minister and triggered a snap election.

The talks since have been defined by intransigence and sluggishness. James Brokenshire, the Northern Ireland secretary, has had to postpone the talks deadline on four separate occasions, and has been criticised by nationalists for his perceived closeness to the DUP.

The final deadline for the restoration of an executive is 29 June 2017. Sinn Fein has called for Brokenshire to recuse himself in favour of a neutral chair. “His hands are tied now, completely,” says Molloy. “The Conservative party were always questionable on where they stood – they’ve always been unionists. The issue now is whether they can act neutrally as a guarantor to the Good Friday Agreement.”

He believes that question is already settled. “Legally, they have to act to ensure that nothing happens to damage that agreement – but we’ve already breached it through Brexit. There was no consultation. The people of the North voted to remain and it hasn’t been recognised. It totally undermines the consent principle.”

Just how they and Brokenshire interpret that principle – the part of the Good Friday Agreement that specifies the constitutional status of the North can only change by consent of its people – will be key to whether they can achieve their ultimate goal: Irish unity.

Molloy and Gildernew say the fact that 11 of Northern Ireland’s 18 constituencies voted to remain in the EU is enough for Brokenshire to call one within the next five years (though polling consistently shows that a clear majority of the province’s electorate, including a substantial minority of nationalists, would vote to stay in the UK). They are confident they can win, though, failing that, Molloy envisages it as the first in several referenda on unification.

But beneath the optimism lies the knowledge that the British government are unlikely to heed their calls. And, willingly absent from the Westminster chamber, they say the UK government’s discussions about Brexit are illegitimate. They see their real powerbase as elsewhere: in Dublin’s Dail Eireann, where Sinn Fein is the third largest party, and the chancelleries of Europe.

“That’s where most of the negotiation will actually happen,” says Molloy. “The EU27 will make the decisions. They won’t be made in Westminster, because the British have already set out what they’re doing: they’re leaving.”

But with seven MPs already lobbying ministers and a united Ireland unlikely to happen in the immediate future, Sinn Fein itself won’t be disappearing anytime soon.

Patrick Maguire writes about politics and is the 2016 winner of the Anthony Howard Award.

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