The subjective nature of psychiatric diagnosis

Medicalising natural and normal responses to life experiences is a dangerous game.

This may be the year that makes you mad. A new psychiatrist’s bible will be published in May and already it’s mired in controversy. Many see it as a pretext for scandalous over-diagnosis and drug-pushing.

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), published by the American Psychiatric Association, has enormous influence in shaping the way mental health research is carried out worldwide. It was first published in 1952 and the most recent edition appeared in 2000. It has taken over 12 years to agree on the contents of the fifth edition, DSM5.

One problem that people have with DSM5is that it will be oldfashioned: it will make no attempt to link behaviour or feelings to what is known about the physical states of the brain, in an era when neuroscience has made enormous advances in relating physiological issues with behavioural issues.

Take grief. Functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) studies show that grieving people have higher activity in various regions of the brain, including the cerebellum and the posterior brainstem. We’ve all seen the results of this in ourselves or others: low mood, low motivation, loss of appetite.

Here’s the next problem: DSM5 will make it easier to medicalise natural human experience. After the new manual is published, psychiatrists will be able to diagnose people who have had two continuous weeks of this as suffering from depression, even if they are recently bereaved. What was normal behaviour last year will become a medical crisis.

The British Psychological Society and the American Psychological Association are among the mental health organisations that have raised concerns about such moves. Medicalising natural and normal responses to life experiences is a dangerous game. So far, more than 14,000 people have signed an open letter to the team drafting DSM5, expressing concern about some of the proposed changes “that have no basis in the scientific literature”. The letter argues that the changes “pose substantial risks to patients/clients, practitioners and the mental health professions in general”.

The pharma says

Particularly vulnerable, they argue, are children and the elderly. That’s because they are most at risk of having pharmaceutical solutions – many of which can have severe adverse side effects – foisted on them. And there’ll be more people and more conditions for which to prescribe drugs. DSM5 will lower the threshold of what it takes to get diagnosed with a disorder and will offer some new disorders, such as “disruptive mood dysregulation disorder”, a diagnosis for children who exhibit temper tantrums and get upset out of proportion to a situation.

Each positive diagnosis will be a candidate for drug treatment, which makes it particularly worrying that a study published in March last year identified strong ties between the pharmaceutical industry and those drafting DSM5.

The subjective nature of the psychiatric diagnosis has always been a problem. Freud knew this but his 1895 attempt at a “project for a scientific psychology” failed miserably. Back then, science had told us very little about the physiology and function of the brain. In 2013, it has revealed a lot more but there are still far too many gaps to claim that subjective analysis is redundant. Neuroscience is advancing fast; let’s hope we won’t need DSM6.

Michael Brooks’s “The Secret Anarchy of Science” is published by Profile Books (£8.99)

The new psychiatrist's bible is seen by many as a pretext for drug-pushing. Photograph: Getty Images

Michael Brooks holds a PhD in quantum physics. He writes a weekly science column for the New Statesman, and his most recent book is At the Edge of Uncertainty: 11 Discoveries Taking Science by Surprise.

This article first appeared in the 07 January 2013 issue of the New Statesman, 2013: the year the cuts finally bite

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Find the EU renegotiation demands dull? Me too – but they are important

It's an old trick: smother anything in enough jargon and you can avoid being held accountable for it.

I don’t know about you, but I found the details of Britain’s European Union renegotiation demands quite hard to read. Literally. My eye kept gliding past them, in an endless quest for something more interesting in the paragraph ahead. It was as if the word “subsidiarity” had been smeared in grease. I haven’t felt tedium quite like this since I read The Lord of the Rings and found I slid straight past anything written in italics, reasoning that it was probably another interminable Elvish poem. (“The wind was in his flowing hair/The foam about him shone;/Afar they saw him strong and fair/Go riding like a swan.”)

Anyone who writes about politics encounters this; I call it Subclause Syndrome. Smother anything in enough jargon, whirr enough footnotes into the air, and you have a very effective shield for protecting yourself from accountability – better even than gutting the Freedom of Information laws, although the government seems quite keen on that, too. No wonder so much of our political conversation ends up being about personality: if we can’t hope to master all the technicalities, the next best thing is to trust the person to whom we have delegated that job.

Anyway, after 15 cups of coffee, three ice-bucket challenges and a bottle of poppers I borrowed from a Tory MP, I finally made it through. I didn’t feel much more enlightened, though, because there were notable omissions – no mention, thankfully, of rolling back employment protections – and elsewhere there was a touching faith in the power of adding “language” to official documents.

One thing did stand out, however. For months, we have been told that it is a terrible problem that migrants from Europe are sending child benefit to their families back home. In future, the amount that can be claimed will start at zero and it will reach full whack only after four years of working in Britain. Even better, to reduce the alleged “pull factor” of our generous in-work benefits regime, the child benefit rate will be paid on a ratio calculated according to average wages in the home country.

What a waste of time. At the moment, only £30m in child benefit is sent out of the country each year: quite a large sum if you’re doing a whip round for a retirement gift for a colleague, but basically a rounding error in the Department for Work and Pensions budget.

Only 20,000 workers, and 34,000 children, are involved. And yet, apparently, this makes it worth introducing 28 different rates of child benefit to be administered by the DWP. We are given to understand that Iain Duncan Smith thinks this is barmy – and this is a man optimistic enough about his department’s computer systems to predict in 2013 that 4.46 million people would be claiming Universal Credit by now*.

David Cameron’s renegotiation package was comprised exclusively of what Doctor Who fans call handwavium – a magic substance with no obvious physical attributes, which nonetheless helpfully advances the plot. In this case, the renegotiation covers up the fact that the Prime Minister always wanted to argue to stay in Europe, but needed a handy fig leaf to do so.

Brace yourself for a sentence you might not read again in the New Statesman, but this makes me feel sorry for Chris Grayling. He and other Outers in the cabinet have to wait at least two weeks for Cameron to get the demands signed off; all the while, Cameron can subtly make the case for staying in Europe, while they are bound to keep quiet because of collective responsibility.

When that stricture lifts, the high-ranking Eurosceptics will at last be free to make the case they have been sitting on for years. I have three strong beliefs about what will happen next. First, that everyone confidently predicting a paralysing civil war in the Tory ranks is doing so more in hope than expectation. Some on the left feel that if Labour is going to be divided over Trident, it is only fair that the Tories be split down the middle, too. They forget that power, and patronage, are strong solvents: there has already been much muttering about low-level blackmail from the high command, with MPs warned about the dire influence of disloyalty on their career prospects.

Second, the Europe campaign will feature large doses of both sides solemnly advising the other that they need to make “a positive case”. This will be roundly ignored. The Remain team will run a fear campaign based on job losses, access to the single market and “losing our seat at the table”; Leave will run a fear campaign based on the steady advance of whatever collective noun for migrants sounds just the right side of racist. (Current favourite: “hordes”.)

Third, the number of Britons making a decision based on a complete understanding of the renegotiation, and the future terms of our membership, will be vanishingly small. It is simply impossible to read about subsidiarity for more than an hour without lapsing into a coma.

Yet, funnily enough, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Just as the absurd complexity of policy frees us to talk instead about character, so the onset of Subclause Syndrome in the EU debate will allow us to ask ourselves a more profound, defining question: what kind of country do we want Britain to be? Polling suggests that very few of us see ourselves as “European” rather than Scottish, or British, but are we a country that feels open and looks outwards, or one that thinks this is the best it’s going to get, and we need to protect what we have? That’s more vital than any subclause. l

* For those of you keeping score at home, Universal Credit is now allegedly going to be implemented by 2021. Incidentally, George Osborne has recently discovered that it’s a great source of handwavium; tax credit cuts have been postponed because UC will render such huge savings that they aren’t needed.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

This article first appeared in the 11 February 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The legacy of Europe's worst battle