Have We Pathologized Being Human?
My thoughts on the ambiguity of mental health in the age of diagnosis.
Understanding psychology has been a major focus in my life, not only in my educational endeavors, but for the improvement it brings to my daily life. If you are or know someone part of generation A, or Z, you’ll know I am not alone in this. What might have been considered a niche interest to generations prior is now mainstream knowledge. Psychological language has become increasingly common in my and my peers’ everyday conversations. Terms that once belonged primarily to clinicians now casually come up in social settings. It’s changed how people connect within their relationships as they express their emotions and identities. This shift has no doubt added to the visibility of mental health challenges, along with accessibility to the treatments of them. The ever-growing awareness, diagnosis, and treatment has led to broader scales of diagnosable mental illness. Up until this point, I’ve considered this a positive change, but I wonder just how broad those scales will become? How slight a mental challenge will one need to experience in order to receive diagnosis and treatment, and should that be the goal? Our society’s count of people with neurotypical brains is shrinking. Is this beneficial, or are we beginning to pathologize what it means to be human?
On one hand, the expansion of psychological knowledge has allowed more people to recognize their struggle, and seek out help. On the other, the broadening of diagnostic categories as well as the normalization of clinical language may be changing how we interpret what used to be considered ordinary emotional experiences. All that to say, I am here to question the ideal of psychological normalcy in the age of diagnosis. To do so, I will dive into four major perspectives: the benefits of expanded diagnosis and access to care, the evolving definition of recovery and remission, the rise in diagnosis and its possible explanations, and the role of pharmaceutical treatment in shaping the modern understanding of mental health.
The first perspective considers the clear advantages of increased awareness and diagnosis. This is where most of my prior knowledge on this subject lies, since I witness the benefits in this growth amongst my peers and community everyday. Especially since historically, mental health conditions were so often misunderstood, stigmatized, or even ignored outright. Many individuals who struggled with depression, anxiety, or attention disorders had little or no access to treatment. Not only that, but the language to describe or comprehend their experience was lacking. Today, diagnostic frameworks provide validation as well as routes to care. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, nearly one in five adults in the United States experiences a mental illness each year. When I first read this, I found it a bit astounding, but it reflects a modern system that is more capable of identifying such psychological distress. Some scholars argue that diagnosis, when used appropriately, can be protective, helping individuals access necessary treatment and reducing the risk of untreated conditions worsening over time. With this in mind, the rise in diagnoses could be seen as progress, and not excessive.
But the second perspective adds nuance to this optimism by examining what it means to “recover.” The Sequenced Treatment Alternatives to Relieve Depression study provides a useful case diving into this term. This study followed over 4,000 participants through multiple levels of treatment. The study found that many individuals could reach remission through the supplied treatment plans. This challenges the current frameworks where mental illness are strongly tied to identity, and often considered chronic, and instead frames it as something that is treatable. However, the concept of remission and recovery is not always straightforward, especially in relation to mental health. This makes me wonder: if this “recovery” requires continuous medical intervention, should it even be considered recovery? That would be like a broken bone being considered healed, but only if the injured person continues to wear a cast. Yes this example is only somewhat related, but it brings up the major point that I am curious about here. What should we consider to be healed or recovered, when it comes to mental health?
The third perspective addresses the noticeable increase in diagnosis and asks whether this reflects a genuine rise in mental illness, or merely a shift in how it is defined. Over time, diagnostic criteria have expanded, specifically with revisions of the Diagnostic and Statistical
Manual of Mental Disorders. Some critics, argue that some conditions, particularly depression, may now include responses to normal life stressors that were not previously considered pathological. From this viewpoint, grief, anxiety, and sadness risk being reclassified as disorders rather than recognized as what they used to be considered, just aspects of life and the human experience. At the same time, others argue that increased reporting and awareness, not over diagnosis, actually explain the rise in numbers. Increased cultural awareness, reduced stigma, and better screening tools may just be shedding light on conditions that were always present, but not recognized. This creates a gray area between what could be considered expanded understanding, and expanded pathology.
The fourth perspective considers the role of pharmaceutical treatment as well as the broader medical system. The growth of the pharmaceutical industry, particularly in the area of mental health medications, cannot go unnoticed. The pharmaceutical market in the U.S. has reached hundreds of billions of dollars, with antidepressants and related medications comprising a substantial portion of that. Some critics say that this economic context could influence how mental health is defined and treated, and could lead to an encouragement in the medicalized view of distress. However, it is just as important take note of the undeniable benefits many individuals have experienced with the increase in availability of treatment. The process of medicalization often reflects both social needs and institutional structures, rather than a single intentional force. This suggests that the relationship between diagnosis, treatment, and industry is nuanced, and cannot be assumed as purely exploitive.
Taken together, my understanding of this nuanced question is now more informed, but even so, leaves me unresolved. Increased diagnosis can be validating, but potentially limiting. Treatment can be effective, but conceptually ambiguous. Rising statistics can indicate both improved awareness and shifting definitions. Pharmaceutical involvement can represent both innovation and influence. So rather than pointing at an obvious answer, these contradictions may come together to represent the evolution of mental health alongside cultural changes.
Ultimately, the question may not be whether or not we have apathologized being human, but rather how our definition of being human is changing. Emotional experiences that were once considered private are now named, shared, categorized, and treated within a clinical context. This shift has undeniable benefits for those who have been historically overlooked or misunderstood. At the same time, it challenges us to consider where we draw the line between disorder, and experience. As our language and ideas continue to evolve, so will our understanding of what it means to be mentally ill or mentally well—or more simply, what it means to be human.
xo,
A.Song