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Consult-Liaison Education Medicine Observations Policy Reflection

Why I Agree with the Goldwater Rule.

The New York Times and NPR recently published articles related to the Goldwater Rule. In short, a magazine sent a survey to over 12,000 psychiatrists in the US with the single question of whether they thought Presidential nominee Mr. Barry Goldwater was fit to serve as President. Few psychiatrists responded. Of those that did, more than half—still over 1,000—said that he was not. Mr. Goldwater ended up losing the Presidential race, but he sued the magazine over this… and he won. Thus, the American Psychiatric Association has advised that psychiatrists should not diagnose public figures with psychiatric conditions. Some psychiatrists have felt otherwise for the current Presidential election.

There is a hypothetical concept in psychiatry called the “identified patient“. It is most often applied in family systems. For example, consider a family that consists of a mother, a father, a son, and a daughter. The parents bring the daughter to a psychiatrist and say that she has worrisome symptoms. Maybe they say that she is always angry, doesn’t get along with anyone in the family, and does everything to stay out of the house. The parents and the son argue that there must be something wrong with her.

As the psychiatrist works with the family, the psychiatrist learns that the parents have the most conflict. The daughter may have developed ways to cope with this stress in ways that the parents don’t like. Because the parents have the most authority in this system and do not recognize how their conflicts are affecting everyone else, they assume that the daughter is the problem. To oversimplify it, the daughter becomes the scapegoat. The daughter is the identified patient.

Presidential nominees don’t become nominees through sheer will. There is a system in place—putting aside for now whether we think the system is effective or useful—where the American public has some influence in who becomes the ultimate nominee. Candidates are eliminated through this process.

Does the Presidential nominee actually have psychopathology? Could a nominee rather reflect the public that supports him or her? Could it be more accurate to describe the nominee for a specific party as the “identified patient”?

Erving Goffman presents an argument in his book The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life that has similarities with the monologue in Shakespeare’s As You Like It:

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts

Goffman and Shakespeare are both commenting on the presence and importance of performance in our daily lives. Goffman argues in his text that context matters[1. I agree that context matters. See here, here, and here.]. We all do things within our power to alter ourselves and the contexts to present ourselves in certain ways.

Some mental health professionals have argued that we can diagnose public figures with psychiatric conditions because of “unfiltered” sources like social media. While it may be true that some people are more “real” (or perhaps just more “disinhibited”) on social media than others, that does not mean that people are revealing their “true selves”. Do you think that people are always eating colorful vegetables in pleasing arrangements? or that people are always saying hateful things, even while waiting to buy groceries, attending a church service, or folding laundry? or that their cats are always cute and adorable, that hairballs and rank breath have never exited their mouths?

Lastly, the primary purpose of diagnosis is to guide treatment. There is no point in considering diagnoses for someone if you’re not going to do anything to help that person.

People have commented that psychiatric diagnoses often become perjorative labels. Unfortunately, there are those who work in psychiatry who will use psychiatric diagnoses as shorthand to describe behavior they don’t like. Instead of saying, “I feel angry when I see her; I don’t like her,” they will instead say, “She’s such a borderline.” That’s unfair and often cruel. If you’re not going to do anything to help improve her symptoms of borderline personality disorder, then why describe her that way? (We’ll also put aside that such a sentence construction reduces her to a diagnosis, rather than giving her the dignity of being a person.) If we are serious about addressing stigma or sanism, then we should only use diagnosis when we intend to help someone with that diagnosis.

I agree with the Goldwater Rule, though not because of the exhortations of the American Psychiatric Association.[2. I’m not a member of the APA. The reasons why I am not a member are beyond the scope of this post.] Diagnosis should have a specific purpose. We often do not have enough information about public figures across different contexts to give confident diagnoses. Presidential nominees are often appealing to various audiences, which can both affect and shape their behaviors. Most importantly, giving a diagnosis to a public figure without any intention of helping that person doesn’t help anyone, especially those who would ultimately benefit from psychiatric services.


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Education Medicine Policy Systems

Inspiration from the Surgeon General.

Somehow people knew he was about to enter the room. The thirty or so people in the room were seated, though people began to stand up.

“Are we supposed to stand up for the Surgeon General?” I asked the person sitting next to me.

She shrugged. If we remained seated, everyone would have noticed. So we stood up.

“I’ve been in this position for a year and a half,” Dr. Murthy said, “and I’m still not used to people standing up for me. Please sit down.”[1. I learned later that the Surgeon General has the rank of a Vice Admiral, as the role oversees uniformed health officers. That’s why people stand up for the Surgeon General.]

We were all in that room for about an hour, but Dr. Murthy said little. After some opening remarks about the Turn the Tide initiative related to the opioid epidemic, he asked the audience to tell him what was going well and what could use improvement.

I had never met him before, but I was immediately struck with his listening skills. It was as if he was taking a history from a multi-person patient. He made and held eye contact. He didn’t fidget. He spoke in a quiet yet firm voice. Though he didn’t come across as warm, it was clear that he was interested in and paying attention to whoever was talking to him. His thoughtful follow-up questions indicated that he was listening to what people were saying to him.

He seemed like a good doctor.

As I had never met a federal official before, I later learned that Dr. Murthy was also unusual in that he took notes. (Fun fact: He’s left handed.)

“These are usually publicity events without a lot of substance,” a more seasoned co-worker commented.

By the time the meeting was over, he had covered a sheet from a yellow notepad with copious notes. He expressed what seemed like genuine thanks to us for our time and perspectives.

It was through luck only that I was there. A colleague told me a few days prior that the Surgeon General was scheduled to speak to a local task force related to the opioid epidemic.

“The Surgeon General?” I blurted. “I’d love to hear what he has to say.”

“Then you should come.”

“What?”

Afterwards, as the Surgeon General’s staff were trying to hustle him out the door, the same colleague who invited me to this event gave me A Look. Only I could see the thought bubble above his head: “Go ask him for a photo!”

Though I appreciated Dr. Murthy’s humility, thoughtfulness, and professionalism, I was also grateful and amused with his willingness to stop for a photo.


Earlier that day I was seeing patients.

“Do you know how much longer you’re going to be jail?” I asked.

“Ten or eleven days.” He looked at my left hand. “You’re married?”

“Yes.”

“I should start going to NA meetings again. I’m never gonna meet a woman in here and I get so depressed about not having a family. I want a wife and kids, like my brother. I don’t know why he got so lucky and I got screwed. The TV doesn’t talk to him, he’s got a wife and three kids, God blesses him, but I will wait because the meek shall inherit the earth—”

“What do you think will help you not pick up when you get out?”

He shrugged. “I still don’t have a place to live. Dope helps me feel better.”

We looked at each other and said nothing.


The reality is that the Surgeon General (or any other public official) is just one person. Though he has a grand title, he alone cannot make improve health care. He is part of a system. We can only hope that he and his office will be able to shift the system—even if only just a bit—so that it works better to serve the US population.

What the Surgeon General can do and, at least for me, has done, is inspire physicians to get involved and do better. He could have swept into the meeting and spoke at length about his accomplishments and his status within the federal government. He instead presented himself as a humble ambassador and servant. He demonstrated interest in what our locality has witnessed and experienced. He recognized that, even though he was an academic physician, he is now too far removed from clinical care to speak first as an expert. He solicited and accepted feedback, some of which was discouraging. He was professional. He wasn’t defensive. He acknowledged that it may seem like our feedback would disappear into a void in Washington, DC, though everything else he was actually doing during the meeting gave us hope otherwise. It’s quiet leadership.

There are a lot of problems with health care. Physicians and patients both know this. Physicians are trained to take care of people, not to create and manage financial systems that should only support the relationships between physicians and people. However, if physicians are not involved in the conversations about these systems, then we are not advocating for the patients we serve and the profession that gives us the privilege of doing so. Yes, I know we’re too busy taking care of patients to participate in these conversations that can seem bloated and irrelevant. However, if we don’t get involved to define the problems and solutions, how could we ever expect these systems to improve?


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Education Nonfiction Policy Reflection Systems

A Review of the National Council for Behavioral Health Conference.

Those of you who follow me on Twitter already know that I spent much of last week in Las Vegas. I attended the National Council for Behavioral Health Conference, “featuring the best in leadership, organizational development, and excellence in mental health and addictions practice.” Here are my reflections about the experience:

It was large. I have never attended a conference with 5000 other people. I already find Las Vegas overstimulating. Not being able to get away from thousands of people for hours on end was draining for me.

There were many sessions I wanted to attend, but could not. This, of course, was a function of the size of the conference. Humans, thus far, can only physically be in one place and mentally elsewhere. During this conference I often wished I could physically be in two places at once.

The sessions that most inspired me often had little to do with formal behavioral health. Nora Volkow, the director for the National Institute of Drug Abuse, gave a talk about the neurobiology of addictive behaviors. Did I learn anything new? No, only because I had learned this while in medical training. Did she present the information in an engaging and compelling way? Yes.

Charles Blow, an opinion writer for the New York Times, authored a memoir about his youth and past sexual abuse. During his talk he read from his book and shared his reflections about his experience. Did I learn anything new? Nothing obvious that would affect either my clinical practice or policy considerations. He won me over with his personal perspective, grace, and vulnerability.

Susan Cain spoke about introversion and leadership. Did I learn anything new? No, because I had already read her book. Was it nonetheless worthwhile to hear her speak in person? For me, yes.

The conference featured a large session called “Uncomfortable Conversations”. The intention was for Big Names in the field to discuss controversial topics. These included involuntary commitment, confidentiality laws that are specific to substance use disorder treatment that can interfere with clinical care, and the concept of cultural competency. Each pair, however, had less than ten minutes to discuss their issue. The moderator also seemed to speak more than each member of the pair. The session could have been thoughtful, though ended up feeling underdeveloped and unfocused.

Where were my psychiatrist colleagues? I understand that this is my own issue—after all, this was not a physician conference. The National Council, however, is supposed to be the leadership conference for community behavioral health. Are psychiatrists involved in leadership in community behavioral health? If not, why not? [1. As I have noted elsewhere: “Physicians, as a population, don’t advocate for ourselves as much as we should because we’re “too busy taking care of patients”. This is true. However, our busy-ness creates a vacuum where non-physicians step in and make decisions for us. We then express resentment that we have to follow the edicts of people who have never done the work. If we did a better job of regulating and advocating for ourselves, we might not be in this position.” Advocacy in this case is leadership.]

Only two “small” sessions I attended featured physician presentations. One involved the introduction of trauma-informed care into primary care settings. The other discussed a concrete integration of mental health, substance use, and primary care services. In both cases the physicians were family practice physicians. Which, to be clear, is fantastic. We must work across systems to provide good care for individuals and populations. I nonetheless felt both puzzled and disappointed with the lack of psychiatrist representation. [2. To be fair, Nora Volkow and several of the panelists for the “Uncomfortable Conversations” are trained as psychiatrists.]

There was a “medical track” meant for medical professionals. Few of those sessions discussed systems issues or leadership. I had planned to attend one that discussed guidelines for benzodiazepine use, though there was no room by the time I arrived. (One of my colleagues, a psychiatrist, later told me that many attendees were not doctors.)

The conference will be in Seattle next year. My colleagues and I are already discussing what we can present.

A lot of people want to do good. I often comment, “Life is terrible… and life is wonderful.” That people have done good work to help others and want to share what they learned in the process is remarkable. That people continue to strive to provide useful services to people who are suffering is humbling. That people are creating new programs to help solve problems, often rooted in inequality, a variety of disparities, and the randomness of existence, is inspiring.

When we have our heads down in our own work, we often forget that we are part of a system. Though I have critical opinions about the conference, I am grateful that I could attend. May we all seek inspiration and always learn from others.


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Policy Systems

Guns, Mental Illness, and Background Checks.

To my knowledge, I’ve only had one “long-term” patient attempt suicide with a gun. [1. I have worked with other people who have tried to kill themselves with guns. They usually report that these attempts had occurred years ago. Other people told me that they owned guns, but had no desire to kill themselves in the time we worked together. Still others owned guns and were struggling with ideas of suicide. Thankfully, we were able to work through this together and these people chose life. Then there are people who own guns and want to kill themselves, but share neither detail with me. I don’t know who they are because I either (1) never meet them in the first place or (2) I never see them again.]

This Person Who Attempted Suicide with a Gun did not show up for an appointment one day. For reasons I could not explain, I had great concerns that This Person had attempted suicide. After leaving several phone messages, I got a phone call from This Person, who was in the hospital.

“I swallowed a bullet,” This Person said.

“What?”

“I don’t know how it happened, but I swallowed a bullet.”

When I later spoke to This Person’s hospital physician, I learned that This Person had not swallowed a bullet. A bullet had gone through This Person’s chest wall, through a lung, and out the back.

I told This Person what I had learned.

“It was my friend’s gun,” This Person said. “I went over when no one was at home.”


The New York Times has a short article about “Why People With Mental Illness Are Able to Obtain Guns“. [2. While the title of this article, “Why People With Mental Illness Are Able to Obtain Guns”, is simply an accurate description of the piece, I still feel annoyed with it. I think my reaction is due to the pairing of “mental illness” and “guns”. There is no reference that most deaths from guns are due to suicide. Where are the articles that pair guns with other conditions? “Why People With Substance Use Disorders Are Able to Obtain Guns”? “Why People With Incurable, Painful Diseases Are Able to Obtain Guns”? “Why People in Financial Ruin Are Able to Obtain Guns”?] One reason offered is “Their Mental Health Records Are Not Accessible”. The author, unfortunately, does not provide much elaboration on this, which alarmed me. Just what records would the FBI National Instant Criminal Background Check System have access to? If it is accurate that about one in five Americans will experience any mental illness in a year, how much private health information will the FBI have access to?

The government released a document, “Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) Privacy Rule and the National Instant Criminal Background Check System (NICS)“, that clarifies some of this. The summary from the document notes:

Among the persons subject to the Federal mental health prohibitor established under the Gun Control Act of 1968 and implementing regulations issued by the Department of Justice (DOJ) are individuals who have been involuntarily committed to a mental institution; found incompetent to stand trial or not guilty by reason of insanity; or otherwise have been determined by a court, board, commission, or other lawful authority to be a danger to themselves or others or to lack the mental capacity to contract or manage their own affairs, as a result of marked subnormal intelligence or mental illness, incompetency, condition, or disease. (emphasis mine)

Thus, three populations of people will have their “mental health records” accessible to the FBI National Instant Criminal Background Check System:

  1. people who have been hospitalized against their wills for psychiatric reasons
  2. people who are deemed by a court to be incompetent to stand trial, or the court ruled that they are not guilty by reason of insanity
  3. people who are deemed by a lawful authority to be a danger to themselves or others, or are “gravely disabled” (unable to care for themselves)

The summary adds:

The disclosure is restricted to limited demographic and certain other information needed for NICS purposes. The rule specifically prohibits the disclosure of diagnostic or clinical information, from medical records or other sources, and any mental health information beyond the indication that the individual is subject to the Federal mental health prohibitor.

This offers partial relief, though I still have concerns:

  • What is the “limited demographic” information? Name? Age? Sex? Race?
  • What is the “certain other information”? Country of birth? Political party registration? Contacts with law enforcement in the past year? Religious affiliation?

This Person who “swallowed a bullet” was ultimately “involuntarily committed to a mental institution”. Under Washington State law, This Person lost the right to own a firearm because of the involuntary detention.

As such, I generally agree with the three populations described above in the “mental health prohibitor”. There is data that argues that people who own guns are more likely to complete suicide. There is also data that argues that people are more likely to complete suicide in the first few weeks after discharge from a psychiatric hospital. I would not want This Person to purchase a gun and attempt suicide again.

However, This Person used someone else’s gun in the suicide attempt. Neither Washington State law nor this new Federal rule has relevance.


I don’t know what the answer is.

Increasing the amount of data in background checks may help reduce suicides and homicides. The current implementation, however, may only increase stigma for people with mental health conditions. We want to increase the awareness and acceptance of mental health conditions. We don’t want to increase fear.

It does not appear that banning guns outright is possible. I am also not totally convinced that an outright firearm ban would result in less gun homicides due to some of the reasons listed here. Would a ban on guns decrease suicides? Maybe, as states with firearm registration and licensing regulations seem to have less suicides.

As I have noted elsewhere, a psychiatric diagnosis alone does not explain why people kill other people, whether with guns or other means. Yes, there are sociopaths who kill people, but they are extremely uncommon. Does the mental health of a society affect and shape the mental health of an individual? Does context matter?

If so, how can we as a society help change the context?


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Consult-Liaison Education Funding Medicine Policy Systems

The Value of Psychiatrists.

While slogging through a crappy first draft of a document about the value of psychiatrists in mental health and substance use disorder services, I did a literature search for supporting evidence.

I found nothing.[1. Physicians, as a population, don’t advocate for ourselves as much as we should because we’re “too busy taking care of patients”. This is true. However, our busy-ness creates a vacuum where non-physicians step in and make decisions for us. We then express resentment that we have to follow the edicts of people who have never done the work. If we did a better job of regulating and advocating for ourselves, we might not be in this position.]

“So how exactly are we helpful?” I mused out loud. Maybe we aren’t: There are groups out there who do not believe that psychiatrists can or do help anyone.

I am an N of 1. Therefore, this post is an anecdote, not evidence. Nonetheless:

Psychiatrists provide psychiatric services. These are increasingly limited to only medication management, which is unfortunate. Psychiatrists need psychotherapy skills—or, abilities to connect with people to build trusting and respectful relationships—to do effective medication management. I can write dozens of prescriptions and change doses as much as I want, but if the person I am working with doesn’t trust me, none of my tinkering matters.

When people think about medication management, they often think only of adding medications or exchanging one for another. Medication management also includes helping people come off of medications. This “deprescribing” also requires the use of psychotherapy skills: Some people feel great discomfort when coming off of medications. Sometimes the reasons are physiological; sometimes they’re psychological. Psychotherapeutic interventions and education are necessary in helping people cope with and overcome these discomforts.[2. For any psychiatrists out there: You could build an entire practice around “deprescribing”. This is one of the most common clinical requests I receive through my blog. I don’t have a private practice, so I turn all these people away. To be clear, deprescribing isn’t limited to private practices; I deprescribe in my clinical work in the jail.]

Psychiatrists often have the most clinical expertise. Most have had exposure to the spectrum of psychiatric services (in residency training) and thus have perspective about how systems work (or fail). Thus, psychiatrists can provide clinical consultation about specific patients and program design, implementation, and improvement. One example is the use of medication assisted treatment for substance use disorders. Certain programs or agencies may believe in abstinence only and will view medications as another misused substance. That perspective is not invalid, though giving people more options may help someone reach the goal of abstinence.

Psychiatrists can provide education to other staff to improve their clinical skills, which can elevate the quality of care clients receive across the agency. Psychiatrists can also provide leadership and influence the direction and ethos of a clinical service. For example, you can imagine how a psychiatrist might influence a service if he believes that the only way to help patients is to convince them to take psychotropic medications forever. A different psychiatrist who believes that employment or housing may be more effective than medication for some patients would provide a different influence.

Psychiatrists can triage patients who are in crisis. A roving psychiatrist on the streets or visiting people in their homes often can’t do things like draw blood, but they can assess people and circumstances to determine whether a visit to the emergency department can be avoided. Psychiatrists can also provide strong advocacy: Psychiatrists can work with law enforcement so that people who would be better served in a hospital actually go to the hospital, and not to jail. Similarly, if someone who has a significant psychiatric condition requires medical attention, psychiatrists can talk with hospital staff to advocate for this. Too many of us have stories about our patients who needed medical interventions, but others thought their symptoms were entirely due to psychiatric conditions.

Psychiatrists go through medical training and often have ongoing contact with other medical specialties. They are thus familiar with the practical realities of communication about and coordination of care for patients across systems. While overcoming the financial and policy hurdles to integrate care are important, the reason why integration matters (or, at least why I hope it matters) is to improve the experience for the patient. Administrators should consider the interaction and experience between the physician and the patient as paramount. The system should not sacrifice that relationship to make administration easier.

This is the message that all physicians, psychiatrists or otherwise, need to communicate to administrators. We don’t do ourselves any favors by assuming that people know what value we bring to patients or to the system. Sometimes it also helps to remind ourselves, too, so we can improve our work for the people we serve.