Lots of things make me feel unhappy, agitated or super-stressed. Sometimes it’s as simple as lousy weather, people who cancel appointments, self-checkouts (surely the devil`s work) and being told to “exit through the gift shop”. On other occasions it’s a little more hardcore: frustrations with work, lack of loyalty, betrayal or the distressing behaviour of those from whom you expected more. All of which can lead to feeling overwhelmed and in utter despair.
Does this mean I have issues with my mental health? Of course not.
Yet too easily we over-medicalise such feelings when they are simply the stuff of the human condition. And by over-diagnosing mental health we gift a work-shy demographic a shiny new get-out-of-the-office card. What was once regarded as the normal range of human experiences — in old money, what we used to call “life” — is now regarded as an illness. For the sake of our young people in particular it has to stop.
So we should applaud Labour for declaring today that it intends to get people back to work (though, as always, not explaining how). Not least because while unemployment stands at almost 1.5 million, the number of people classed as economically inactive — not employed or actively looking for work — has jumped to more than nine million. The breadth of systemic sluggishness is breathtaking. Meanwhile, a report by the University of Kent revealed 20-somethings are now more likely to be off work sick than adults in their 40s amid soaring rates of depression, anxiety and bipolar disorder.
Bad enough, this is overburdening resources, straining the economy and diverting resources from those who are truly in need — as well as diluting the anguish of genuine cases. But more significantly it is creating a society of febrile snowflakes who regard normal disappointment or unhappiness as an excuse to duck responsibility and stay in bed. While the rest of the world goes to work, they stay behind closed curtains scrolling TikTok.
The irony is that work can be such a tonic for those fighting unhappiness. It creates a sense of purpose and identity. It’s a place to make friends, network and — yes — create a support network. And, of course, it pays the bills. Medicalising every disappointment as “mental health” is entirely counterintuitive. It is, in short, a prescription for a cop-out.
Before I’m termed a heartless monster, a few caveats. To be clear, of course there are those who suffer with severe depression and other deeply rooted psychological conditions which demand medical or therapeutic support. Indeed, it’s precisely because there are genuine cases that we cannot have a system clogged up with those who take refuge in mental health because life isn’t spinning out the way they had planned.
I should also point out that I’m not immune to how it feels as a young person, to be an audience to huge domestic upheaval and profoundly shocking events. The very fact that I don’t choose to write about them is precisely because — and it`s a personal choice — my view has always been that I don’t want to be labelled. Or secure pity — however retrospective. At the time I chose instead to be an ostrich and seek sanctuary in my studies. The irony is that it could have impacted on mental health if I hadn’t instead embraced the alternative. To focus on what I wanted out of life — to pass exams, be with friends, get a good job. Be happy.
Of course, not everyone can do that. But equally we need to make young people who feel in despair understand that building resilience, the joy and dignity of work and the pure distraction of looking outward not inward can only be a help. While flushing out those who are simply riding the gravy train.
Labour in this sense aren’t helping themselves. Alison McGovern, the Employment Minister, has said of those who make such comments about mental health issues: “I don’t think having a go at people and blaming them is the right approach.”
She misses the point. This is not about blame. It is about recognition that with one in eight young people out of work something is seriously wrong. They are rotting in a quagmire of sluggish indifference because society has allowed them to do so.
Labelling everything as a mental health issue is a self-fulfilling prophecy. It roars that nothing is expected of you — not least materially in terms of supporting yourself, contributing to society — and that it is okay to retreat.
Mental health is complicated — being human is complicated. But if we excessively medicalise the issue then we create a culture of helplessness. It’s time to take away the crutch — and in some cases the DWP benefits — and get those who use this argument back to work. Otherwise, what will prevail is failure and frustration. Not least amongst those of us who are watching this happen.
