Abstract
Since the early 1990s, techniques and technologies for
studying neurological and genetic causes of psychiatric illness have
increased rapidly, during which time bio-medicines have (re)defined the
relationship between personhood, the brain, body, and illness. Working
within a
sociological and geographical analysis of embodiment and mental health,
the paper explores
how emotions – forming from and emerging within psychiatric survivor
testimonials –
challenge scientific knowledge as the trump card to felt experiences.
The paper draws on the
work of R.D. Laing, Michel Foucault, and anti-psychiatry literature to
provide a social study of
psychiatry, a position that promotes embodied testimony as one avenue
for the politicization of
a psychiatrized situated knowledge.
Key Words: Anti-psychiatry, psychiatric survivor
testimony, situated knowledge, identity, sociology and geography of
emotion
Influenced in large part by the post-modern and/or
post-structuralist challenge to the rational
subject (Foucault, 1976; Deleuze and Guattari, 1987;
Haraway, 2004; May,
2005), many
sociological and geographical studies now recognize how bodies and
emotions are shaped by
and help shape experiences and being(s)-in-the-world (Laing, 1960;
Laing, 1967; Freund,
1990;
Williams and Bendelow, 1998;
Davidson and Milligan,
2004; Davidson et
al., 2005). Embodied
experiences are important for many reasons, and their theoretical,
epistemological, and
ontological significance has been studied in sociology (Freund, 1990;
Williams and Bendelow,
1998; Williams, 2000), feminist
theory (Haraway,
2004), cultural
studies (Butler, 1990),
geography (Valentine, 1998; Knopp, 2004; Davidson et al., 2005), and
more importantly for the
theme of this paper, mental health studies (Shimrat,
1997; Parr, 2000;
Burstow, 2004; Philo,
2005).
In this paper, I will demonstrate how mental health
policy in Canada often presents a purely
rational, scientific terrain of knowledge, an approach that manages
only a cursory mention of
the daily lives of psychiatric survivors. [1] The
paper will discuss how
psychiatric survivor
testimonials can be promoted as politicized challenges to the medical
model of biological
psychiatry, a field that largely dominates how mental health services
are defined and delivered
in Canada. [2] Working within a sociological and
geographical analysis of
mental health, this
paper will elucidate how feelings and emotions – forming from and
emerging within
testimonials – challenge scientific knowledge as the trump card to felt
experiences (Burstow
and Weitz, 1988; Parr, 2000; Burstow, 2004; Cresswell, 2005).
Psychiatric survivor
testimonials will be contextualized geographically by exposing how
survivors negotiate the
world in ‘de-institutionalized spaces,' through which the ‘mentally
ill' are supposedly free from
confinement (Parr, 2000; Philo, 2005; Burstow,
2004). Personal, and
often painful, testimonies
are one way of challenging biological and clinical diagnosis, which
rarely offer access to the
emotional world of the individuals scientific studies are said to
describe (Burstow and
Weitz,
1988; Shimrat, 1997). Adding to
what many theorists have said about the
existential world of
the ‘patient,' especially as they are situated in a social and
political world of ‘others,' this paper
concludes with a brief discussion of how exposing survivor-led,
embodied experiences help
politicize a ‘situated knowledge,' an important (non-science) expert
position within the broader ‘psychiatric survivor' social movement
(Haraway, 2005; Laing, 1961; Burstow and Weitz, 1988;
Kotowicz,
1997; Crossley, 1998; Burstow, 2004; Day,
2006).
Although the fundamental disease process seems not to be directly altered by psychosurgical procedure [lobotomy], the patient is relieved of abnormal emotion attached to morbid ideas, and his [sic] attention can be diverted to more realistic concepts and more constructive activities (Burlingame, 1949, p. 141).
Two
[theorists] contributed to the mythology surrounding schizophrenia. The
American psychoanalyst Thomas Szasz pronounced that schizophrenia, like
other mental
illnesses, is a set of behaviors, not a disease. The late R.D. Laing, a
British
psychiatrist, suggested that it is really a ‘healthy' response to an
‘insane' world. People
burdened with terrible stress act ‘crazy' in an effort to adapt.
Scientific research
and factual data have discredited these theories. Unfortunately, they
were all popular
enough at one time to have gained public attention (Schizophrenia: A
Handbook for Families, 1991, p. 5). [3]
This section will offer a brief overview of scientific
literature and Canadian governmental policies, two fields of knowledge
within which mental illnesses are defined. I will highlight
how biological psychiatry pathologizes emotion [4] and
commonly ignores how
bodies are shaped
by scientific knowledge that has historically objectified the lived
experiences of psychiatric
survivors. Although the science of mental health is very important and
extremely interesting,
this paper will, unfortunately, only be able to offer a brief reading
of the scientific literature.
In this section I would like to highlight two main
threads that are important for studies in mental health: 1) I do not
deny that our bodies are shaped, in part, by physiology, including
neurological and biological traits that continue to be investigated by
respected scientists; 2) I do,
however, challenge the scientific landscape that manages only a
perfunctory mention of how
emotions, experiences, and bodies are bound up in a rational/scientific
terrain, especially as the
social, political, economic, and normative world goes largely
unchallenged within mainstream
forms of psychiatric knowledge. The second aspect is of particular
interest, as purely
neurological or biological interpretations of mental illness largely
ignore felt experiences and
emotions as they shape and are shaped by one's embodied experiences
with ill mental health
(Laing, 1961, Cooper, 1967, Parr,
2000).
Mental illness is commonly conceived of as a negative
effect of abnormal physiological traits. The idea that mental illness
is shaped by neurological processes with biological origins is
certainly not a new one – the dispute was important when lobotomy was a
popular treatment in
the 1940s and 1950s (Valenstein, 1986).
More contemporary neurological
studies have been
able to isolate regions of the brain that shape or influence symptoms
of mental illnesses. However, how to define, classify or treat symptoms
of mental illness, whether neuro-chemical
or neuro-genetic, is still very much disputed (Breggin, 1994; Cohen,
1988).
In more contemporary literature, schizophrenia is
frequently referred to as a ‘shattered' personality, a condition that
involves disturbances of the brain's chemistry, anatomic features,
and physiology (Maxmen and
Ward, 1995; McGuffin, 2005).
Schizophrenia,
in short, is said to
be a distortion of perception and subjective experiences.
Neuroscientists are currently
examining genetic origins of mental illness (McGuffin, 2005), and how
the ‘disease' can be
located before it flourishes. Genetic and biological factors are
believed to be the root cause of
the illness, factors which are often compounded by particular
psychosocial influences. According to some scientific literature,
however, genes and neurobiological substrates are also
shaped by environmental influences, but precisely what ‘environmental'
means is ambiguous
and often deterministic (Hedaya, 1996; McGuffin,
2005). Nicholas Rose
is now calling the
study of genetic origins of mental illness the ‘sociology of
susceptibility' (Rose, 2006),
especially as governmental agencies are working with pharmaceutical
corporations to track and
treat individual citizens.
Etiological theories, reflected in governmental policies
on mental health, which I will discuss
shortly, are based on genetic and neurochemical causes. Children with
one schizophrenic
parent are ten to sixteen percent more likely to develop schizophrenia,
whereas the general
public has a likelihood of one percent (Maxmen and Ward, 1995, p.
184).
Neurochemical
influences are caused by "metabolic under activity of the frontal lobe
that decreases activity in
the basal ganglia" (Maxmen
and Ward, 1995, p. 184), which highlights
differences in the
nervous system causing sensory information to be processed abnormally.
Such disturbances are
said to cause impairment of attention and interactive abilities. While
much of the literature is
dedicated to psychopathological, neurological, and biological origins
of the ‘disease,'
psychosocial theories receive only a brief mention. Such explanations
often include
intrapsychic influences – or what has been ‘done' to the patient to
‘cause' the disease – and
vulnerability – or what ‘stress' has triggered the development of the
illness or disease. A main
theme, regardless of the etiology, depends on the term schizophrenia,
coined by Eugen Bleuler,
that often denotes a ‘shattered' personality. That is, whereas
‘"patients with other severe mental
disorders may have one or perhaps two symptoms of schizophrenia, the
curse of the
schizophrenic is to be plagued by most of them" (Maxmen and Ward, 1995,
p. 173). Suffice it
to note here that, building upon the historical categorization by
Blueler, the schizophrenic self is
not only diseased, but also unable to process her or his
thoughts/feelings as a result of ‘affect'
disturbances. While I would never deny the challenges faced by
individuals with symptoms of schizophrenia, I find it also important to
note how the pathology of the ‘disease' automatically
categorizes symptoms as necessarily an impairment of themselves in the
social world.
Reflected in the Public Health Agency of Canada (PHAC)
policy document: Schizophrenia: A
Handbook for Families (1991),
the ‘diseased' self is unable to have
access to her or his own
world. The document is one of three available on the PHAC website for
anyone interested in
knowing more about the etiology of schizophrenia, symptoms of behavior,
stigma attached to
being labeled, forms of treatment, and ways of ‘dealing' with
individuals with schizophrenia. While it would be difficult to fairly
and adequately summarize the document in this paper, I
would like to highlight how schizophrenia is defined. This section
tends to automatically
exclude or intentionally ignore how women and men with schizophrenia
may, at times, be able
to understand their own world better than scientific ‘experts.' This
exclusion is not to deny that
science can explain certain aspects of behavior, rather that
etiological theories are often
deterministic in their assumptions that genetic or biological factors
automatically means that
people with schizophrenia cannot know her or his own world.
Schizophrenia: A Handbook for Families
defines
schizophrenia as a neurological disease, basing its justification upon
biological psychiatry's broad definition of mental illness: "the
current evidence concerning the cause of schizophrenia is a
mosaic…these [factors] include
changes in the chemistry of the brain, changes in the structure of the
brain, and genetic factors"
(1991, p. 2).
Although the document acknowledges that there are
multiple factors for such a
complex ‘disease,' this complexity is reduced to a single
(tautological) definition:
"schizophrenia is probably a group of related diseases, some of which
are caused by one factor
and some by another" (1991,
p. 2). The document remains ambiguous in
its definition of
schizophrenia, certainly a result of the vagueness of the etiology. In
other words, while the
etiology is based upon multiple factors, the multiplicity of the
origins are narrowed to a single
point that defines schizophrenia as a single disease and an "altered
sense of self" (1991,
p. 3). The symptoms of the ‘illness,' of
ambiguous etiology, rely on external patterns of behavior to
classify an internal disease, resulting in a self that cannot, by
definition, know itself.
For instance, the document defines the altered sense of
self as a positive symptom of schizophrenia, a disease that "is a
blurring of the ill person's feelings of who he or she is. It may
be a sensation of being bodiless, or non-existent as a person. The ill
individual may not be able
to tell where her or his body stops and the rest of the world begins.
It may be as if the body is
separated from the person" (1991, p. 4). Of
particular interest is how
the policy document
always already excludes the possibility of an ‘ill' person to know his-
or herself; the ‘diseased,'
‘bodiless' brain is always an object of medical diagnosis and
treatment.
Another common pathologized symptom of schizophrenia,
which will be challenged in the following section, is what The Handbook
describes as ‘blunted feelings' or ‘blunted affect' (1991, p. 4).
So-called ‘blunted affect,' reflected in the DSM-IV, is the ‘flattening
of emotions':
While the document acknowledges that people diagnosed
with schizophrenia have the ability
to be emotional, the fact that this document denies that people with
schizophrenia understand
and derive meaning from emotions is of particular interest. Peter Breggin (1994) argues that
simply because patients do not show emotions, or seem resistant or
docile, does not necessarily
make them ill or diseased. He argues that instead of seeing emotion as
a symptom of an illness,
can emotion (blunted or not) be seen as a response to the system of
psychiatry, rather than as a
classifiable symptom of a disease in the brain?
Schizophrenia
needs to be defined in positive terms. ‘Dissociation,' ‘autism,' and
‘loss of reality' are convenient terms for those who wish to silence
schizophrenics...‘loss
of reality' – how can we say this about someone who lives in an almost
unbearable
proximity to the real (‘this emotion, which communicates to the mind
the shattering
sound of matter,' writes Artaud in the Nerve Meter)? (Deleuze, 2006, p.
27).
Rather
than psychiatry, why not the schizophrenics, the crazies themselves? It
seems to me that those who work in the field of psychiatry, at least
right now, are hardly
on the cutting edge! (Felix Guattari, as cited in Deleuze, 2004, p.
237).
For embodied knowledge to matter, it is important to
understand that women and men living
as ‘mentally ill' [5] are, in part, experts of their
own world, one that
scientific knowledge can only
partially explain. An embodied, situated knowledge is about the telling
of stories at a particular
point in time from a particular – often oppressed – position. As
healing and good mental health
have been commodified, individualized, and characterized within the
mind/body distinction,
embodied knowledge, conversely, challenges the political, economic, and
social conditions in
which one experiences mental illness through
the body. [6] This method does
not suggest that
experiences of illness can expose an essential category that can be
used to define a single
identity, nor that a ‘truer' healthy self can be set free in later
stages of material conditions or
discursive practices. [7] On the contrary, because
emotions have
historically been pathologized, the
political force of situated knowledge exists in the ability to
contextualize, emotionally, the field
of knowledge and material living conditions psychiatric survivors roam
daily. That is, situated
knowledge – defined through testimony – can be seen as the interplay
between space and
emotion invoked by and within different social spaces. Our access to
‘the world' is never
impartial; embodiment affects the outcome of our interaction in and of
the world. Hester Parr
(2000) refers to embodiment as a fluid state of being, but does not
deny that bodies negotiate
dominant constructions of differences defined by psychiatric knowledge.
Understanding
emotions, therefore, helps us to situate the social geographies that
many people with mental
health problems live out on a daily basis.
Emotions are important for an embodied knowledge, as
Freund has argued, because the way
one feels is always linked to material and social conditions. This
relationship highlights
"different modes of emotional being [that] are, in effect, different
felt ways of feeling
empowered and disempowered" (Freund, as cited in Williams and Bendelow,
1998, p. 143). Testimonial responses to psychiatry acknowledge a
particular agency within the act of speaking,
which necessarily links emotion and bodily being(s)-in-the-world with
social relations. Such a
relationship to the world is always felt and emotionally embodied
(Williams and Bendelow,
1998).
Gill Valentine, who writes in the area of emotional
geographies, argues that personal testimony should be promoted in the
social sciences. Testimonies aid in interpreting situated
and felt responses to social and cultural forms of oppression. In her
article Sticks and Stones, Valentine
(1998) recounts her experiences of overt and violent acts of
homophobia within
academia.[8] By using her own testimonials to make
explicit the embodied
and situated nature of
knowledge, her powerful narration of the material events of everyday
life exemplifies the need
to understand how violence is shaped in and through the spaces of
academia. In this particular
paper, Valentine uses her own experiences to outline an emotional and
embodied geography of
what it means to be harassed, particularly relevant within the
post-modern concern with
difference that has highlighted a need to understand ‘othered' voices
(see also Day, 2006). The
importance of personal testimony, therefore, is its methodological and
theoretical influence on
the situated (embodied) nature of our knowledge. Situated knowledge
attaches the author or
speaker to the embodied experience, which highlights often painful,
traumatic, and destructive
forms of harassment, be it homophobic, psychiatric, or intersecting
forms of oppression.
Further to this, Davidson and Miligan highlight that an
understanding of mental illness "[Acknowledges] the important place of
emotions when it comes to conceptualizing and faithfully re-presenting
subjects' experiences" (2004,
p. 525). R.D. Laing and Esterson support
this claim in their existential challenge to the clinical model of
diagnosis and treatment:
While to ‘discover' individual perspectives should not occupy a single or true definition of experience, survivor testimonials elucidate and challenge how bodies are objects of biological analysis and clinical diagnosis. Promoting emotional responses to the mental health world can create new ways of understanding, feeling, and interpreting the meaning of illness as embodied subjects (Foucault, 1961; Laing and Esterson, 1964; Cooper, 1978; Parr, 2000; Philo, 2005).
Mark Cresswell (2005) succinctly
summarizes why
testimony is a productive feature of resistance to the power of
modern-day psychiatry. [9] He outlines the distinction
between patients
and survivors of psychiatry, the latter representing individuals who
have survived a supposedly
helping system. Ironically, or intentionally as one part of a
liberal-democratic state and
privatized pharmaceutical industry, the psychiatric system often works
to oppress and/or
highlight existing inequalities without addressing the social,
cultural, and economic factors that
lead to and perpetuate marginalization in our society (Burstow, 2004).
While many would
argue that the psychiatric system is a helping one, which to some
extent it is, testimony,
conversely, offers multiple ways for the ‘mentally ill' to speak their
minds; speaking her or his
mind is always already happening, but not often heard. Bonnie Burstow
highlights this silence
in the context of the over-represented medical expert and/or
clinician's voice. Therapeutic
hegemony operates such that "the opinions of survivors are generally
under-represented and
often downright dismissed" (Burstow, 2004,
p. 149). Friedenberg
furthers Burstow's point that
conventional psychiatry and psychoanalysis treat patients assuming they
are hampered by
defects in their perceptions of their own reality:
Conventional forms of biological psychiatry and psychoanalytical theories, according to much of Laing's philosophy, perpetuate the notion that the inner self, the speaking subject, is not able to share itself with a world that is perceived to be more accurately interpreted by medical professionals. Laing suggests:
Conversely, speaking from a particular subject position – be it schizophrenic or a survivor of multiple forms of psychiatric oppression – means creating a politics of self-advocacy: "Psychiatrists have paid very little attention to the experience of the patient. Even in psychoanalysis there is an abiding tendency to suppose that the schizophrenic's experiences are somehow unreal or invalid" (Laing, 1967, p. 90). Self-advocacy through testimony, therefore, can be defined as an expression that is not only uttered, but is an action that runs across and emerges from experience (Cooper, 1978). Rather than seeing ‘patients' as helpless consumers of a health care system that serves, testimony becomes an embodied engagement with the system itself; survivors themselves organize and lead the planning, delivery, and focus of getting through her or his own suffering (Burstow, 2004). [10] This does not mean that recovery happens alone. [11] Burstow has further argued that recognizing suffering happens through the creation of ethically and politically aligned networks of survivors, advocates, and progressive mental health care professionals (see also Breggin, 1994). Recognizing the need for a space in which testimonies can be heard is simply the beginning.
Through psychiatric survivor testimonials, an embodied,
emotional knowledge is defined by
and how a survivor has witnessed and experienced harms associated with
the psychiatric system
(Cresswell, 2005). However, according
to Cresswell, testimony can take
two forms: 1) negative
experiences of the mental health world, through which will emerge
emotional and situated
responses to legends of oppression; and 2) positive alternatives to
experience demonstrates how
survivors are in effect experts, even more so than medical
professionals (Cresswell, 2005; see
also Burstow and Weitz,
1988; Shimrat, 1997). Advocating
for a space in
which testimonials
can emerge, survivors can be recognized as experts by experience as
psychiatric survivors, not
objects of clinical practices. An embodied experience can reveal
countless ways in which
situated knowledge equals a claim to expertise about ‘being ill.'
Embodied knowledge
necessarily adds to the on-going critiques that emotion and other
mental illnesses are always a biological disease (Burstow, 2004;
Cresswell, 2005).
In order to challenge the hegemonic function of
psychiatry, Cresswell (2005) argues,
testimony
can be enacted as a ‘truth-claim,' a process through which survivors
bring into being current,
embodied ‘state of affairs,' rather than report past or present
occurrences. Cresswell defines
psychiatric hegemony as the political process by which dominant forms
of medical knowledge
work to produce subjects within a broader normative order. As a
political
performance of surviving, "testimony is a ritual discourse in which the
speaking, suffering
subject is also the subject of the statement; and in which the
suffering of which she speaks is
inscribed by herself upon or within her body" (2005, p. 1674).
Testimonies, enacted as
counter-hegemonic, support the critiques of psychiatry and the
practices of self-advocacy and
self-determination, and expose countless ways of how, within power
relations, survivors have
been denied access to their own world (Laing,
1960; Cooper, 1978).
Bonnie Burstow and Irit Shimrat, in a Canadian context,
continue to advocate for an embodied
understanding of institutionalized and medicalized identities,
especially in that personal
experience has largely been violated in the psychiatric system (Burstow
and Wietz, 1988; Parr,
2000). Irit Shimrat's book Call
Me Crazy (1997) is largely
dedicated to
the topic of how
psychiatrized others have been violated, among other things, in and by
the psychiatric system. The book can easily be characterized as a space
and place for testimonies to emerge and be
heard.
Testimonies are important for a politics of voice and
for the construction and maintenance of
psychiatric survivor communities (Shimrat,
1997; Burstow, 2004). While
survivor communities are not monolithic, and many intersecting
oppressions such as race, class, ability,
and gender continue to complicate our understanding of community,
testimonies become a form
of speaking from the locus of the psychiatrized suffering self. Mark
Cresswell refers to this as
knowledge forged from the direct experience of surviving (2005). Hester
Parr (2000) takes a
similar position in her studies of mental illness in post-asylum
landscapes, similar in analysis to
Burstow's work on de-institutionalized spaces (Parr,
2000; Burstow,
2004). Parr's analysis
breaks down assumptions that ‘communities' of survivors are monolithic,
loving spaces free of
stigma and encoded knowledge, and is important for complicating and
unpacking what she calls
geographies of exclusion (2000). The main
theoretical force of her work
is how she questions
our understanding of sameness and difference for studies in emotional
geography. While
communities allow ‘mad' behavior to exist in different ways, there are
certain norms and
boundaries maintained by larger social, cultural, and material levels
of acceptability. Just
because we have ‘de-institutionalized' spaces for the ‘caring' of the
mentally ill, does not mean
that stigma and cultural understandings of difference do not still
perpetuate social and bodily (acceptable) boundaries.
Vanessa Pinfold (2000) similarly argues
that personalized,
emotional perspectives of mental health
can contribute to an understanding of the journeys that are traveled in
community care facilities
in the UK and beyond. She argues that giving voice is an
important concept when
working with (and hearing) psychiatric survivors. Although she prefers
consumer to survivor, a
distinction that needs much more unpacking, Pinfold highlights how the
voices of those
suffering have been censored within dominant, scientific forms of
knowledge. To challenge dominant forms of knowledge,
voices of survivors offer new interpretations of
what it means to be ill (see also Davidson,
2003). Self-determination
does not endorse the
biological model of mental illness, but counter-poses the hegemonic
function of medical science
with the lived and emotional reality of survivors – as they are defined
and produced as objects
of medical knowledge (Cresswell, 2005).
Bonnie Burstow (2004) has written
extensively since the 1980s
about why a shared critique of institutional psychiatry is important.
While etiologies of mental illness range from biological,
neurological, and/or psychoanalytical origins, a shared critique of
psychiatry opens up a space
for what Burstow calls the psychiatrized ‘other' to speak for
self-determination. Speaking
from a psychiatrized other position is often full of pain, alienation,
suffering, and loneliness –
but can at times be very joyful as well (Porter,
1985). It is precisely
that traditional forms of
psychiatric diagnosis and treatment – especially within the biological
model – have been
incompatible with emotion, however, that makes the act of speaking
against psychiatry so
powerful. In order to make such claims to situated self-determination
more powerful and
politically forceful, Burstow has allied herself with progressive
medical professionals in the
mental health field. For instance, Peter Breggin and David Cohen, whose
work I will return to
shortly, have joined the psychiatric survivor movement in order to
demand survivor
self-actualization and self-determination, a goal largely at the heart
of testimony and the politics
of voice (Burstow, 2004). Joining the
survivor movement does not mean
speaking for
survivors. Rather, joining the movement means understanding that
survivors have more to say
than has historically been heard.
A main feature of the disciplinary/controlling features
of psychiatric knowledge can be summed up by what Nicholas Rose has
referred to as the "expertise of subjectivity" (as cited in
Lupton, 1998, p. 93). Within dominant
forms of medical knowledge,
emotion has always been
considered an aspect of the ‘sick self' that needs improvement – that
is, emotion is pathologized
within psychology, psychiatry, social work, and more recently,
neurobiologies. Within
psychoanalytical forms of therapy, talking about experience is often
reduced to the removal of
emotions, or coming to terms with how best to manage emotions: "the
discourses of humanistic
psychology and psychoanalysis . . . have had an increasing influence on
the
ways in which self
and the emotions are conceptualized in late modern societies" (Lupton,
1998, p. 93). Conversely, testimony, or providing a space to
discuss
embodied responses to psychiatry, does
not pathologize emotions, but promotes the need to live them through.
In Burstow and Weitz's
collection of survivor testimonials from the late 1980s, they argue
that spoken and written
psychiatrized experiences are an important avenue through which
oppressions can be
highlighted, a theoretical thread commonly ignored within mainstream
scientific literature. Their anthology, according to Burstow and Wietz,
"is a creative and liberating response to the
‘treatments' which robbed many of us of our creativity, individuality,
and freedom" (1988,
p.
31). Allowing a space for survivors to speak demonstrates that many, as
has been illustrated in
Burstow and Shimrat's work, feel the many de-humanizing aspects of the
psychiatric system,
how drugs are often permanently brain-damaging, and how psychiatry is
largely "obsessed with conformity and social control" (Burstow and
Weitz, 1988, p. 30).
Peter Breggin and David Cohen's work is often cited in
survivor literature, especially since the
two are committed to support survivor's paths to self-determination.
The affinity between
medical doctors, activist academics, and survivors themselves aids in
promoting empathetic
support – rather than simply handing out medication. Not all
psychiatrists hand out medication
without empathy, but Breggin and Cohen argue that throughout the 1990s,
also known as the
‘decade of the brain,' the diagnosis and treatment of mental illness
has moved further away from
patient perspectives with caring paths to recovery. Often, as Breggin
notes, those suffering
from mental illnesses are ‘swept away' by the biological model of
psychiatry, where many
survivors end up with permanent brain damage from drugs and shock
treatment (1991). Langian in many ways,
his analysis begins with
listening to how women and men struggle with
the stress of illness and pain of an unstable, misunderstood identity.
His approach, conversely,
opposes biological psychiatry's position that often says, "you can't
talk to disease" (Breggin, 1994, p.
23). The communication and hearing of stories by doctors from
survivors makes "no
sense to doctors who want to control symptoms, such as hallucinations
and delusions, with
drugs, ECT, and incarceration" (Breggin,
1994, p. 23).
The idea that extreme instances of ‘irrationality'
(emotion) are due to diseases in the brain, Breggin continues, is
inseparable from the profession of psychiatry. If schizophrenia was not
a
disease, psychiatry would have little justification for its treatments:
"the search for biological
and genetic origins keeps many people employed and are well funded…the
notion that patients
have sick brains justifies psychiatry's unique power to treat patients
against their will" (1991, p.
23). Not only does psychiatry maintain itself by searching for
biological origins to abnormal
symptoms of behavior, but also the organic approach to mental illness
automatically excludes
voice. How can we, as Breggin asks, listen to a diseased brain? How
could a diseased brain
ever know its own world more than medical experts, many of whom have
financial ties to the
pharmaceutical industry?
Cohen and Breggin both suggest that if people who
express ‘seemingly irrational ideas' are understood mechanistically, as
they are in biological psychiatry, then these people are necessarily
broken, disordered, and defective (Breggin,
1994; Cohen, 1988).
Conversely, if a
survivor approach replaced a mechanistic approach, recovery would be
possible through
opening up emotional dialogue for an understanding of those who seem
mad, crazy, or
dangerous: "if we are human beings rather than devices, then our most
severe emotional and
spiritual crises originate within ourselves, our families, and our
society" (Breggin, 1994, p. 25). In a
similar vein to Bonnie Burstow's
work on testimony, Breggin acknowledges that
self-determination happens through the expression of passionate
emotion, which avoids being
thrust back into the diagnosis as another symptom of a pathological
illness.
Conclusion
Many scientists continue to reject the notion that
symptoms of mental illness can
be explained
solely by biological or genetic origins, especially when the breadth of
such origins are still
ambiguous to scientists. For instance, classifying mental illness in
the 1940s, as Jack Pressman
(1998) highlighted, did not endorse a specific label supported by a
diagnostic model, but the
psychological behavioral and emotional features of their individual
patients. In other words,
mental illness was ‘diagnosed' by signs and symptoms of an illness –
often irrational and
emotional – while presupposing the origins of psychosis in the diseased
brain. Even though
medication and/or electroshock therapies treated the illness, the
procedure and the diagnostic
tools to define illness always did and continue to depend upon the
physical behaviors of patients
(Duffin, 1999; Breggin, 1994).
In the words of R.D. Laing, the diagnosis of individuals
as ‘mentally ill' is a "social prescription that rationalizes a set of
social actions whereby the labeled person is annexed by
others, who are legally sanctioned, medically empowered, and morally
obliged, to become
responsible for the person labeled" (Laing and Esterson, 1964,
p. 18).
In other words, while
‘abnormal' social behaviors appear to be a result of an ‘illness,' such
behaviors may be more
closely related to larger political, economic, and social factors that
are internalized by the
individual diagnosed as ‘ill.' In short, more important questions
emerge when critiquing
biological models of mental illness through testimonials: how can we
take what we call ‘mental
illness' out of its clinical context, which has contributed to the
degradation of individuals? Can
the clinical biology that attempts to derive concepts from the
multiplicities of human beings be
more harmful or dangerous than the ‘illness' applied to those said to
be suffering?
According to R.D. Laing, in the clinical world,
individuals diagnosed as mentally ‘ill' are not
only subsequently treated as sick in need of a cure, but are also
invalidated as human beings by
the medical world and beyond (Laing and Esterson, 1964).
He argues that
it is important to
consider the ways in which the medical world necessarily places a
(hypothetical) disease of
unknown etiology and undiscovered pathology onto individuals as a
result of ‘signs' and
‘symptoms' of ‘abnormal' behavior. Gilles Deleuze eloquently sums this
up: "…the very nature
of the symptoms makes them difficult to systematize, to combine in a
coherent and readily
localizable entity. They come apart at the seams. Schizophrenia is a
syndrome in disarray at
every point, ceaselessly retreating from itself" (2006, p. 22). Laing
and Esterson, in a similar
vein, argue that the problem with psychiatry, biological and
psychoanalytical, is found in the
idea that patients, ill or otherwise, are in need of a ‘cure.'
According to David Cooper (1967),
this means working towards debunking the unfortunate
social/political/economic/medical myth
that the ‘abnormal' brain is automatically ‘diseased.'
Since the 1960s, the psychiatric survivor movement has
been through multiple transformations
and struggles, and has ranged in critiques of both the biological and
psychoanalytical models of
psychiatry (Laing, 1961; Cooper, 1967; Deleuze and Guattari, 1987;
Deleuze, 2006). [12]
While it
is beyond the current scope of the paper to discuss the climate of ‘the
movement,' [13] suffice it to
say here that in Canada, at the very least, many continue to view
psychiatry as problematic and
are committed to combating its problems. While the mental health system
in Canada helps
many, testimonial responses to the practices of psychiatry highlight
the need to build more
affective and loving communities, to support the telling and publishing
of personal stories (see
Burstow and Weitz, 1988;
Shimrat, 1997), and to lobby for
survivors'
rights (Breggin, 1994;
Cohen, 1988; Burstow,
2004). The significance of ‘the movement' and the
(emotional) voices
of the survivors, according to Burstow
(2004), is the interconnection
of values and political
commitments.
It is important to recognize that the voices of
survivors come from positions of oppression, often intersecting with
racialized, gendered or class-based inequalities, among others.
Politically committing to why emotional voices matters, by affinity,
invites those from a position of privilege to hear and act. While the
concept of affinity as an ethical approach to
activism has been around for some time, Richard Day develops the
concept in his new book
Gramsci is Dead (2006). Affinity, as
opposed to counter-hegemonic forms
of politics (which
are often, but not always, totalizing), can be defined as
"non-universalizing, non-hierarchical,
non-coercive relationships based [on] mutual aid and shared ethical
commitments" (Day, 2006,
p. 9). Bonnie Burstow and Don Weitz, both anti-poverty and
anti-psychiatry activists in the
Toronto area, can generally be described as sharing such political and
ethical commitments in
their work.
While I cannot say for certain that all form of
anti-poverty/anti-psychiatry activism can be defined as affinity-based,
Burstow and Weitz's work, in particular, fits with Day's observation
that progressive social change "responds to the need and aspirations of
disparate identities
without attempting to subsume them under a common project" (2006, p.
10). Hester Parr's
work shares similar political undertones, especially in her discussion
of interlocking issues in
the UK related to poverty and mental health. Her analysis of ‘othered'
voices within
marginalized communities is important for a politics of affinity,
especially in that it is based on
a commitment to difference of disparate identities, not essential
categories based on gender,
race, ability or illness/health (Parr, 2000).
The psychiatric survivor
movement is seeking
community, a space and place to speak from the positions of
psychiatrized ‘others.' It is
important for allies to recognize the need for life narratives "in
which survivors reclaim and
celebrate ways of being that psychiatry has reduced to diseased [like]
symptoms" (Burstow,
2004). This includes challenging governmental policies that promote
forms of psychiatric
treatments such as electroshock and private, industry-based
pharmaceutical treatment, forms
that have historically denied – and continue to deny – the voices of
psychiatrized ‘others' to
speak and be heard.
Atkinson, M. and Zibin,
S.
(1996).
Quality of life measurement among
persons with chronic cental Illness:
A critique of measures and methods. Prepared for Systems for
Health
Directorate, Health Promotion and Programs Branch of Health Canada.
Boyle, M. (1990).
Schizophrenia: A scientific delusion?
London and New York: Routledge.
Breggin, P. (1994). Toxic psychiatry. New York: St.
Martin's Press.
Burlingame, C.C. (1949).
Psychosurgery – New help for the
mentally ill. The Scientific Monthly,
Vol. 68 (2), 140 – 144.
Burstow B. and Weitz,
D.
(Eds.). (1988). Shrink resistant:
The struggle against psychiatry in canada. Vancouver: New Star
Books.
Burstow, B. (2004).
Progressive psychotherapists and the psychiatric survivor movement.
Journal of Humanistic Psychology,
44(2), 141 – 154.
Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble. New York and
London: Routledge.
Cohen, D. (1988).
Forgotten millions: The treatment of
the mentally ill – A global perspective. London and Toronto:
Paladin-Grafton.
Cooper, D. (1967). Psychiatry and anti-psychiatry.
London and New York: Tavistock.
Cooper, D. (1978). The language of madness. London:
Penguin.
Cresswell, M. (2005).
Psychiatric survivors and testimonials of self-harm. Social Science and
Medicine, 61,1668 -1677.
Crossley, N. (1998). R.D.
Laing and the British anti-psychiatry movement: A socio-historical
analysis. Social Science and Medicine,
47(7),
877 –
889.
Davidson J. and
Milligan, C. (2004). Editorial: Embodying emotion sensing space:
Introducing emotional geographies. Social
and Cultural Geography, 5(4),
523 – 532.
Davidson, J., Bondi, L.
and Smith, M. (Eds.) (2005) Emotional
Geographies. Burlington VT and Aldershot:
Ashgate Press.
Davidson, L. (2003).
Living outside mental illness:
Qualitative studies of recovery in schizophrenia. New York and
London: New York University Press.
Day, R. (2006). Gramsci is dead: Anarchist currents in the
newest social movements. London
and
Toronto: Pluto Press and Between the Lines.
Deleuze G. and Guattari,
F. (1987). A thousand plateaus:
Capitalism and schizophrenia.
Minneapolis: University of Minneapolis Press.
Deleuze, G. (2004). Desert island and other texts. New
York: Semiotext.
Deleuze, G. (2006). Two regimes of madness: Texts and
interviews 1975 – 1995. New York:
Semiotext.
Dreyfus, L. and Rabinow,
P. (1982). Michel Foucault: Beyond
structuralism and hermeneutics.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Duffin, J. (1999). History
of medicine: A scandalously short introduction. Toronto and
Buffalo:
University of Toronto Press.
Foucault, M. (1961).
Madness and civilization: A history
of Insanity in an age of reason.
New York: Vintage.
Foucault, M. (1963). The birth of the clinic: An archaeology of
medical perception. New
York:
Vintage.
Foucault, M. (1990). The history of sexuality volume 1: An
introduction. (Robert
Hurley, Trans.).
New York: Vintage (Original work published 1979).
Foucault, M. (1994).
Essential works of Foucault vol. 1:
Ethics, subjectivity and truth. (Paul Rabinow, Ed.). New York:
The New Press.
Foucault, M. (2003). Society Must Be Defended: Lectures
at the Collège de France, 1975-1976. (M. Bertani and A. Fontana Eds and
trans.). UK:
Penguin.
Freund, P. (1990). The expressive body: A
common ground for the sociology of emotions and health and illness. Sociology of
Health and Illness, 12(4), 452 – 466.
Friedenberg, E. (1973). R.D. Laing. New York: Viking
Press.
Guattari, F. (2004). Five propositions
on psychoanalysis. In G. Deleuze (Ed.) Desert Islands
and Other Texts. Los Angeles: Semiotext (Original work published
1973).
Hacking, I. (1991). How
Should We Do the History of Statistics? In G. Burchell, C.
Gordon, and P. Miller (Eds).The
Foucault effect: Studies
in governmentality: With two lectures and an interview with michel
foucault. Chicago:
University of Chicago
Press.
Hacking, I. (1998). Mad
Travelers: Reflections on the Reality of Transient Mental Illnesses.
Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Haraway, D. (2004). The
Haraway Reader. New York and London: Routledge.
Hardt, M. and Negri, T.
(2000). Empire. Boston:
Harvard
University Press.
Kirk, S. and Kutchins, H.
(1992). The selling of DSM: The
rhetoric of science in psychiatry. New
York: Aldine De Gruyter.
Knopp, L (2004).
Ontologies of place, placelessness, and movement: Queer quests for
identity and their impacts on contemporary geographical thought.
Gender, Place, and
Culture, 11(1), 121 – 134.
Kotowicz, Z. (1997). R.D.
Laing and the paths of anti-psychiatry. London and New York:
Routledge.
Laing, R.D. (1960). The divided self: An existential study in
sanity and madness.
London:
Penguin Books.
Laing, R.D. (1961). Self and others. London: Penguin
Books.
Laing, R.D. (1967). The politics of experience and the bird of
paradise. London: Penguin
Books.
Laing R.D. and A.
Esterson
(1964). Sanity, madness, and the
family: Families of schizophrenics.
London: Penguin Books.
Lupton, D. (1998). The emotional self. London and
Thousand Oaks: Sage.
Maxmen J.S. and Ward,
N.G.
(1995). Essential psychopathology
and Its treatment, 2nd ed., revised
for DSM-IV. New York: Norton and Company.
May, T. (1993). Between genealogy and epistemology:
Psychology, politics, and knowledge in the thought of Michel Foucault.
Pennsylvania: Penn State University
Press.
May, T. (2005). Gilles Deleuze: An introduction.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
McGuffin, P. (2005).
Molecular genetics of schizophrenia.
In M. Reveley and J.F. Deakin (Eds.) The
psychopharmacology of schizophrenia. London: Arnold.
Parr, H. (2000).
Interpreting the ‘hidden social geographies' of mental health:
Ethnographies of inclusion and exclusion in semi-institutional
settings. Health and Place,
6, 225 – 237.
Philo, C. (2005). The geography of mental
health: An established field? Current
Opinion in
Psychiatry, 18, 585 – 591.
Pinfold, V. (2000).
Building up safe havens . . . all around the world: Users' experiences
of living in the community with mental health problems. Health and Place, 6, 201 – 212.
Porter, R. (1985). The patient's view:
Doing medical history from below. Theory
and Society, 14, 175 – 198.
Pressman, J. (1998). Last resort: Psychosurgery and the limits
of medicine. Cambridge:
Cambridge
University Press.
Public Health Agency
of
Canada (1991). Schizophrenia: A
handbook for families. Retrieved April
2006 from http://www.phac-aspc.gc.ca/new_e.html.
Rose, N. (2006). Lecture:
Sociology of susceptibility. London: London School of Economics,
February 28, 2006.
Shimrat, I. (1997). Call
me crazy: Stories from the mad movement. Vancouver: Press Gang.
Szasz, T. (1961). The myth
of mental illness: Foundations of a theory of personal conduct.
New
York: Delta.
Valenstein, E. (1986).
Great and desperate cures: The rise
and decline of psychosurgery and
other radical treatments for mental illness. New York: Basic
Books.
Valentine, G. (1998).
Sticks and stones may break my bones: A personal geography of
harrassment. Antipode. 30(4):
305 – 332.
Williams, S. and
Bendelow, G. (Eds.) (1998). The
lived body.
New York and London: Routledge.
Williams, S. and
Bendelow, G. (1998). The emotionally expressive body. In S. Williams
and G. Bendelow (Eds.) The lived body.
New York and London: Routledge.
Williams, S. (2000).
Reason, emotion, and embodiment: Is ‘mental health' a contradiction in
terms? Sociology of Health and
Illness, 22, 559 – 572.
Notes