Category: Policy

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Homelessness Medicine Nonfiction Policy Seattle Systems

More Reflections about COVID-19 from Seattle.

This is another unpolished post. Several physicians and nurses in other states have reached out to ask for suggestions and perspectives related to behavioral health and homelessness during this COVID-19 epidemic in Seattle. Here are some reflections:

Coordination with partners is not only essential for services, but also to maintain morale. No single agency is able to address this alone. Government partners need feedback and information about what the community needs (and, I’m sorry to say, sometimes the community ends up providing government officials with updates that government should be telling us). The actions and energy of partners can buoy others when it seems things are stuck.

There aren’t enough supplies. Clinics, hospitals, and agencies can’t get face masks, hand sanitizer, and other sanitation supplies. Vendors are all sold out. Local governments are appealing to the federal government to provide supplies; I understand that the US military protects a national stockpile of such items? Which is something I had never considered in the past. And, perhaps most importantly, there aren’t enough COVID-19 tests! It seems that most of our local publicly funded primary care clinics have, at most, 30 test kits on site with no replenishment coming. Some private labs are only now agreeing to provide COVID-19 testing.

Many employees don’t have enough paid time off accrued to take time off of work for self-quarantine. Thankfully, our state and federal governments have passed or will pass legislation to address this and ensure that people can still get paid despite having to take time off of work. HR departments everywhere would do well to look out for their employees, particularly those who provide direct service to people who are higher risk of experiencing illness due to COVID-19.

People may (or may not) bristle at the infringement of civil liberties. The Washington State Governor has banned gatherings of more than 250 people. The CDC has provided “mitigation strategies” specific to Seattle-King County for the next 30 days, some of which are about workplace behaviors and COVID-19, which includes checking temperatures for fever and screening for illness when employees show up to work. The CDC has also recommended prohibiting visitors to certain sites. These are extraordinary times, hence these extraordinary measures… and some people may bristle at having to follow these rules. So far, people have been voluntarily complying with these changes.

The balance of individual patient health information and public health wobbles. For the past two weeks, a local clinic and our shelter have gone back and forth (in a collegial way) about protecting an individual’s privacy versus protecting the health of other people staying in the shelter. In short, the clinic argued that if Mr. Doe, a person who stays in the shelter, gets tested for COVID-19, the shelter isn’t entitled to know (a) that the test occurred and (b) the test results. We have countered that the shelter should know about Mr. Doe’s testing and the results during this extraordinary time because we want to do everything we can to prevent or minimize a localized outbreak within our shelter. Thankfully, the State Attorney General issued guidance that sided with our view (to be clear, the clinic was sympathetic to our view and did not balk with the change in practice… and I completely understood where the clinic was coming from). However, this is something that the clinic and our shelter had to pursue on our own; this was not proactive guidance we received from our government officials.

Government bureaucracy is in full effect. In this instance, I’m referring to practice of government officials who are unwilling to send out official communication until numerous gatekeepers have vetted it. Thus, guidance is slow to come out, so everything slows down. I understand the reason for vetting—confusion isn’t helpful, either—but we also feel frustrated when we feel like we’re losing a race against an invisible enemy.

People staying in shelters are resilient. Many staff feel anxious about how COVID-19 will impact the people who stay in shelters and receive clinical services from us. I find that I have to remind myself that many of the people who stay in shelters have experienced traumas and horrors that we will never know or understand. Many of them have already experienced illnesses and pain that we cannot fathom. I do not mean to minimize the very real possibility that some of them, should they contract COVID-19, will develop severe illness and die. I don’t want that to happen, which is why we are in constant communication with our partners to coordinate services and care. However, many of them will either not get sick, or they will recover despite our anxiety and efforts. It is a privilege that these individuals even let us into their lives.

Screening guidelines for COVID-19 are mushy. Some of our local infectious disease experts have taken to crafting their own screening guidelines because they are dissatisfied with the vague guidelines from the CDC. (This ties back to the lack of available tests—if we had more COVID-19 test kits, then we wouldn’t be wringing our collective hands about screening guidelines, particularly for vulnerable populations like people staying in shelters, which, no kidding, includes a significant proportion of people who are over the age of 60.)

The workforce shortage seems like it will only get worse. Social service and health care agencies often struggle with having a sufficient number of staff to address the clinical need. As people call out due to illness, whether COVID-19 or otherwise, this will turn into a vicious cycle: Fewer staff for a constant or growing need means that those staff will get tired and sick, which increases the likelihood that they will call out, and if the return to work rate doesn’t match the “attrition” rate, then soon there will be only minimum staffing at best. We also cannot expect individual people to successfully address systemic problems. It is not uncommon for people who go into social and health services to overwork (whether in quantity, quality, or both); this is unsustainable during usual times, let alone during an epidemic.

Social distancing seems like it will have the highest yield. The Institute for Disease Modeling published a paper specific to King and Snohomish Counties (the “epicenter” of the outbreak in the US) about the importance of social distancing. It is both compelling and disturbing. I don’t know how to successfully balance this with the clinical services that the medical team provides to the agency. Telehealth options are limited because of the population we serve (i.e., they generally don’t have telephones), though we plan to implement some creative ideas to at least try to keep people out of emergency departments.

It’s a weird time. We continue to do the best that we can, while recognizing that what comes next may knock us off our feet.

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Education Lessons Nonfiction Policy Reflection Systems

What I Learned in Government.

It’s been nearly four months since I posted something here. Don’t be fooled: The lack of words here did not mean an absence of word salads tossing about in my head.

I recently resigned from my job. (All The Things related to that contributed to my silence here.) My job had two parts: One involved administrative work as the behavioral health medical director for local government; the other involved direct clinical service in a jail. I was in that job for over five years. It took me about two and a half years to figure out what an administrative medical director does. (As the process of becoming a doctor involves frequently feeling incompetent, this discomfort wasn’t new to me.) Now that I’m on the other side of this job, here’s what I’ve learned:

I believe government can do good things. You know that stereotype that government employees are lazy? I did not find that to be true. Every organization has a proportion of staff who do not seem motivated or interested. The proportion, in my experience, does not seem higher in government. If anything, many of my colleagues came to government with eager hopes of improving the community. They came in early, stayed late, and worked on weekends. They convened groups with opposing viewpoints, advocated for different populations in the region, and expressed dissent to people in power. They sought out and willingly worked on complicated problems. They demonstrated the humility that comes with the realization that tax payers are funding their salaries.

I do not enjoy the game of politics. Some people love it! They enjoy the contests of status, flaunting their connections, and attacking perceived enemies in public forums with the brightest of smiles. Sometimes people asked me to speak, not because they cared about the content of my words, but because of my credential as a physician. (“Let’s trot out The Doctor.”) I grumbled about “perception management”; often it seemed that the surface sheen mattered more than the substance underneath. (On the other hand, it is likely that my glittery MD credential is what allowed me to say to superiors that poop will never develop a patina. It is unfair that systems often value specific people more simply because of the letters after their names.)

Government work has made me both more and less patient. It takes time to elicit ideas and information from “stakeholders”, community members, and others. People want to and should be involved if a policy or program will impact their lives. They share perspectives that government never thought to consider. I respect that process. I am less patient with the nonsense people and systems can generate to subvert fair processes. Some people are more prone than others to misuse power. That’s hard to watch in a system like government, which has access to and authority over so much money… and, in our current system, whoever has more money almost always has more power.

I learned a lot about laws and regulations. I came to appreciate the value of regulations, though they tend to address the lowest common denominator. Government spends most of its time aiming low to define the floor instead of inspiring people to elevate the ceiling. (I wrote more about this here.)

Government administrators forget what happens in direct service. Though many people in government once provided “front line” services—as attorneys, social workers, counselors, activists, whatever—many of them seem to forget the challenges of systems that are intended to help people. This includes the thousand little cuts of too much paperwork and the major crises of people dying due to missing or underfunded services. My opinion that all medical directors should routinely provide direct clinical service has only gotten stronger with this experience. Someone has to inform the others at The Table what’s going on outside.

Systems are made of people. Contemporary discourse often focuses on systems, not people… but people make up systems (i.e., individuals create, operate, and maintain systems). As such, single individuals can still have significant impacts on systems. This includes grinding things to a halt… or breathing life into new programs. (This is where political gamesmanship can be useful.) The hierarchical organizational chart can lead people who are “lower” to think that their efforts don’t matter, but that’s simply untrue. Systems can change because people can change… whether that’s because people actually change their ideas and behavior or people in certain positions leave.

I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to work in government. I never thought I would work as a civil servant (and, in fact, there was a time when I said I’d never work for government… which is why I’ve stopped making five-year plans). If for nothing else, now that I’ve been on the inside, I can use that experience and knowledge on the outside.

The outside suits me better. So it’s time to go back.

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Policy Reflection Systems

Belonging in Psychiatry.

I recently finished reading The Art of Community: Seven Principles for Belonging by Charles Vogl. He starts the book with this definition of “community”:

a group of individuals who share a mutual concern for one another’s welfare.

He continues:

[A community] is distinct from a group whose members may share ideas, interests, proximity, or any number of things but lack concern for one another.

He argues that communities (as he defines it) have “shared values”, “membership identity”, “moral proscriptions”, and “insider understanding”.

The American Psychiatric Association (APA) held its annual meeting this past week in San Francisco. I did not attend.

I have never been a member of the APA. There was a time when I took some oppositional pride in this, though I was aware of how this attitude is problematic: I cannot help change an organization if I do not join it.

Why do I resist the APA, even though it is the organization that represents the work I do?

This excellent post over at Slate Star Codex captures many of my reasons: All of the pharmaceuticals! The overt and covert intersections with politics (which can lead to overmedicalization of life and underrecognition of psychiatry as an agent of social control)! And while I know that there are members of APA who care about people, families, and communities that experience severe psychiatric symptoms (e.g., schizophrenia, bipolar I disorder, co-occurring mental health and substance use disorders), I’ve never gotten the impression that these are priority populations for the APA.

If we use Vogl’s definition, the APA, to me, doesn’t feel like “a group of individuals who share a mutual concern for one another’s welfare”.

Maybe professional organizations aren’t intended to be spaces where people have mutual concern for the welfare of others.

In the past I wondered if my lack of affinity for APA had to do with how different my clinical practice is compared to other psychiatrists. There are other psychiatrists who work with people living on the streets and do housecalls for people who live at or near the poverty line… but we are few and far between. I live in the largest county in Washington State. There are hundreds of psychiatarists here. Yet I know of only two other psychiatrists who share my work experiences!

Consider emergency physicians. They all work in generally the same setting and thus have similar clinical practices. I don’t know the membership of their professional organization (American College of Emergency Physicians), though it at least seems that their specialty organization is more cohesive and united. Because their clinical practice is more uniform, perhaps it is easier to have mutual concern for the welfare of their fellow physicians.

Meanwhile, how much does my work have in common with the private practice psychiatrist who provides psychoanalysis? I’m just trying to get the guy who lives outside due to relentless paranoia to look at me long enough so I can say hello in a manner that won’t scare him off.

A few years ago a local psychiatric association contacted me. They anticipated an upcoming vacancy in a committee involved in government relations.

During the phone call, I learned that most of the members were psychiatrists in private practice. The leadership expressed a desire for the association to get more involved in government affairs (e.g., local and state legislation). Because of my role in local government, they highlighted the value I could contribute to the association.

“You’ll have a lot of influence,” they said several times.

They also commented that they were trying to increase the diversity in their organization. In addition to the “influence” I could bring, I could also bring my non-white, non-male self.

By the end of the phone call, I said that I wanted time to think about it. What I actually thought about was the responsibilities I had to myself versus those I would have to the organization. I cannot help change an organization if I do not join it. Could I bring issues related to underserved communities to the association? Would the membership find these issues compelling? Would they have interest in legislation that did not focus on their own patient populations?

A few weeks later, I told them that I wouldn’t join. This decision stemmed chiefly from the substance of the work. However, it was also a reaction to their recruitment methods: They thought I would respond favorably to an appeal to my vanity. “You’ll have so much influence!!!” Perhaps the corollary to that was that my influence would help get stuff done, but the emphasis was on the vast amounts of influence I could wield over the group. That didn’t interest me.

And while I did appreciate the blunt commentary about how my participation would help increase the diversity of the association, it made me tired just thinking about it. Increasing diversity doesn’t just mean increasing the amount of color in a photograph. There’s a lot of work in introducing and maintaining various perspectives in a group. I didn’t want to be the only person responsible for that simply because of my non-white, non-male status.

The association certainly had concern for its own welfare. I wasn’t convinced that the association members had concern for mine.

To be clear, this doesn’t mean I’m great.

At least once a week I wonder if I would be more effective in my medical director role if I were involved in more associations and groups. What if I could bring the “forces” of the local medical society and psychiatric association to my job? What if I could use my status as a medical director in government to influence the priorities of these organizations? Would my “success” in each sphere be greater?

What responsibilities am I shirking? I believe one function of government is to convene people so we can figure out how to collaborate with each other. How many opportunities am I missing to improve the community because I am not participating in these other organizations? If I really care that much about underserved populations, don’t I have some responsibility to persuade these organizations to support initiatives that will serve the the underserved? Isn’t there more strength in numbers?

What would it be like if I shared and coordinated ideas, plans, and concerns with these big organizations with large audiences instead of here on my blog?

This has been true from the very beginning: I am a reluctant psychiatrist. I was never supposed to become a psychiatrist.

But, for reasons known and unknown, people experiencing psychotic symptoms feel comfortable talking to me.

So, here I am, working as a psychiatrist.

And, perhaps because of my affinity for complex problems, this is also why I am more comfortable working at the boundaries of fields. Yes, it is possible that the APA will create and disseminate the cure schizophrenia.

I doubt it.

I don’t think a pharmaceutical product will cure schizophrenia. But, at the intersection of nutrition science and psychiatry we can maximize the likelihood that pregnant women will have access to foods that will decrease the risk of their babies developing schizophrenia. At the intersection of legal systems and psychiatry we can reduce (if not eradicate) the use of solitary confinement so that jails and prisons do not worsen psychiatric symptoms. At the intersection of education and psychiatry we can teach kids and their parents skills to better cope with the adversity that life throws at all of us.

I will continue to struggle with joining APA and other organizations. But I already know that I’m not alone. Those of us—and not just psychiatrists—who care about the welfare of people with severe psychiatric symptoms are already part of a community. Sometimes we’re just harder to find.

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Medicine Policy Reading Systems

The Word is Not the Thing, And…

This past week I finished reading McCloud’s Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art.[1. I purchased Understanding Comics to learn a different perspective about storytelling. I am not a routine reader of comics. Regardless, I do recommend this book. It is a thoughtful and fun read, and it’s a comic book.] The second chapter, “The Vocabulary of Comics”, reiterates a major point in Hayakawa’s Language in Thought and Action:

The first of the principles governing symbols is this: The symbol is NOT the thing symbolized; the word is NOT the thing; the map is NOT the territory it stands for.

McCloud uses René Magritte’s “The Treachery of Images” to welcome the reader to “the strange and wonderful world of the icon”:

I’m using the word “icon” to mean any image used to represent a person, place, thing or idea.”

This idea that “the word (or icon) is not the thing” is relevant to a recent opinion piece, “Beware the Word Police“, in the academic journal Psychiatric Services:

Frequent calls for changing diagnostic labels to decrease stigma may result in unintended consequences. Condemning incorrect language by policing word choice oversimplifies the depth of work involved to increase opportunities for people with mental illness. This Open Forum reviews three unintended consequences of using scolding language.

The author of that opinion piece, Patrick Corrigan, lists these three unintended consequences:

  1. the word police’s focus on “just changing terms” misrepresents the depth and persistence of bias and bigotry
  2. word police are a major barrier to the essential goals of stigma change
  3. word police may undermine stigma change at the policy level

I’m One of Those People who avoids using the words “addict”, “schizophrenic”, or “diabetic”. I instead say “individual with a substance use disorder”, “person with a diagnosis of schizophrenia”, or “someone with diabetes”.

While I agree with all the authors above—words and icons aren’t the thing, they only represent the thing; the use of different words does not equate to actual reduction in discriminatory behaviors—I also believe that, as a society, The Royal We have come to agree that certain words have certain meanings.

For example, if I describe a person as a “diabetic”, what comes to mind? Perhaps you think of a family member who has diabetes and has excellent management of her blood sugars. Maybe you think of the person who goes to the emergency department multiple times a month due to high blood sugars and non-healing wounds. Or maybe you’re thinking about the growing number of people who struggle to pay for insulin to treat their diabetes. The range of ideas that come to mind with the word “diabetic” is broad.

But if I say someone is an “addict”, what comes to mind? Maybe you think of a senior vice president of a major business who wears tailored suits, but most people don’t. When I teach and ask audiences—comprised of health care professionals or otherwise—to list what comes to mind when I say “addict”, the list always includes things like

  • dirty
  • mean
  • desperate
  • selfish
  • etc.

(When the audience is comprised of health care professionals, I remind them that, right now, they are likely working with someone with a substance use disorder… and that person won’t disclose how much s/he is suffering because they feel shame about the presumed characteristics of “addicts”.)

It is true that the word “addict” is NOT the person with a substance use disorder. However, we, as a society, have somehow arrived at the agreement that the word “addict” describes someone who is dirty, has no self-control, etc.

Even though a different word doesn’t change the actual thing, the different word can change the idea about the thing. A different word can have a different definition, different associations.

Again, if I describe someone as “schizophrenic”, what characteristics comes to mind?

But what if that person with schizophrenia is your neighbor? works as a barber? works at Microsoft? is raising two kids? just earned her graduate degree? volunteers at the animal shelter? is the owner of that plot in the community garden that is overflowing with flowers and vegetables?

If different words can change the idea about the thing, then different words can help people change their behaviors about the thing.[2. To be clear, insight does not always result in behavior change. Even if the psychoanalysts argue otherwise.] In regards to the “word police” piece above, shifts in ideas and behaviors can drive improvements in health and social policy. This can lead to a reduction in stigma. The Royal We can develop new agreements for these different words. And using different words is sometimes easier than changing definitions for the same word (e.g., consider racial slurs).

Maybe I am falling into the “word police” camp. However, I do agree that behavior change is the ultimate goal, since what we do matters more than what we say. As with many things, the solution is somewhere in-between: Let’s work on word choice to help shift ideas and behaviors, but also remind ourselves that the word is not the thing.

Categories
Policy Reading Systems

About that APA Statement on “Toxic Masculinity”…

Several people asked me about the American Psychological Association’s (APA) statement about “toxic masculinity”. You can find the statement, which is actually a practice guideline, here.

I read the entire guideline. My reactions and opinions follow:

1. The title of the practice guideline is not “Toxic Masculinity”. The title is “APA Guidelines
for Psychological Practice with Boys and Men”. The word “toxic”, let alone the phrase “toxic masculinity”, does not appear anywhere in the document.

2. This APA practice guideline, like other clinical practice guideline, is a “statement[s] that suggest or recommend specific professional behavior, endeavor, or conduct for psychologists”. Psychologists are the intended audience. On page one of the document, it states:

These guidelines serve to (a) improve service delivery among populations, (b) stimulate public policy initiatives, and (c) provide professional guidance based on advances in the field. Accordingly, the present document offers guidelines for psychological practice with boys and men.

3. The introduction to the document includes a section of definitions. Language is how we communicate with each other, but, wow, can words get in the way. I suspect some readers had strong reactions to the definitions (and, perhaps, to the legitimacy of some of the words defined). And if those readers do not agree with the definitions (or question the validity of the words themselves), then the rest of the document will seem like a pile of poo.

My guess is that the phrase “traditional masculinity ideology”, tucked into the “masculine ideology” section, and the accompanying definition made some people clutch their pearls. I myself did not react one way or another to the phrase “traditional masculinity ideology”, which the APA defines as

anti-femininity, achievement, eschewal of the appearance of weakness, and adventure, risk, and violence.

This phrase has apparently been in use since 2007. This definition gets more attention later in the document, which may have caused the strands holding the pearls to rip, thus sending hundreds of pearls clattering to the floor.

So many words. So many opportunities to develop heartburn over words.

4. The practice guideline includes ten specific guidelines. Here they are:

Psychologists…

  1. strive to recognize that masculinities are constructed based on social, cultural, and contextual norms.
  2. strive to recognize that boys and men integrate multiple aspects to their social identities across the lifespan.
  3. understand the impact of power, privilege, and sexism on the development of boys and men and on their relationships with others.
  4. strive to develop a comprehensive understanding of the factors that influence the interpersonal relationships of boys and men.
  5. strive to encourage positive father involvement and healthy family relationships.
  6. strive to support educational efforts that are responsive to the needs of boys and men.
  7. strive to reduce the high rates of problems boys and men face and act out in their lives such as aggression, violence, substance abuse, and suicide.
  8. strive to help boys and men engage in health-related behaviors.
  9. strive to build and promote gender-sensitive psychological services.
  10. understand and strive to change institutional, cultural, and systemic problems that affect boys and men through advocacy, prevention, and education.

Lots of striving happening here.

While I can understand why some people might hurl spittle at their electronic screens at a few of these guidelines, most of them are reasonable and want to improve the well-being of boys and men. Don’t we want boys and men to successfully integrate various aspects of their identities? Who objects to helping men become better fathers? Why would anyone get upset about reducing the problems that boys and men are more likely to encounter in both behaviors and health?

4. I took the most notes for the first three guidelines:

Guideline 1: Psychologists strive to recognize that masculinities are constructed based on social, cultural, and contextual norms.

And this is where the pearls spilled all over the floor.

Recall that the APA’s definition of “traditional masculinity ideology” refers to “anti-femininity, achievement, eschewal of the appearance of weakness, and adventure, risk, and violence”. In this section, APA asserts that this ideology “can be viewed as the dominant… form of masculinity” that “strongly influences what” people in a culture assume is normal.

APA goes on to assert that this “dominant masculinity” has historically excluded men “who were not White, heterosexual, cisgender, able-bodied, and privileged”.

So many words in there that induce emotional reactions, right?

I argue, however, that this definition is fair. Let’s go through a thought experiment together:

In the United States, the image of a cowboy easily comes to mind upon hearing the word “masculine”. Picture a cowboy in your mind’s eye, if you will:

  • What color is his skin? Does he look like this or this?
  • When he is riding off into the sunset, who does he want to make sweet love to? Why was Brokeback Mountain so scandalous?
  • Did you even consider that your cowboy could be a trans man?
  • Does your cowboy wear glasses? hearing aids? a prosthetic limb?
  • And does your cowboy push the saloon doors open with bravado? Or does he brush off all the dust from his face and clothes, ensure that he has proper identification on him, and knock on the wall of the saloon?

APA never states that this definition of “dominant masculinity” is “toxic”. Instead, APA asserts that the “ideal, dominant masculinity is generally unattainable for most men”. As a consequence, men “who depart from this narrow masculine conception by any dimension of diversity… may find themselves negotiating between adopting dominant ideals that exclude them or being stereotyped or marginalized”.

Because it’s too hard to reach that ideal, “men not meeting dominant expectations often create their own communities”.

APA then recommends that psychologists work with individuals in their care to “become aware of how masculinity is defined in the context of their life circumstances”. More importantly, APA advises that “psychologists strive to understand their own assumptions of, and countertransference reactions toward, boys, men, and masculinity”. Because if I think Mr. Doe should be like a cowboy and refrain from crying after the death of his child, Mr. Doe is going to pick up on that, even if he wants to weep. And, thus, I’m a jerk and I’m not helping him.

Guideline 2: Psychologists strive to recognize that boys and men integrate multiple aspects to their social identities across the lifespan.

This guideline delves more into the intersection of things like race, age, sexual orientation, etc. and being a boy or man. And these intersections aren’t limited to these “social justice warrior” flavors: A man who has served in the military has a social identity that many others lack. Military service is its own culture and affects how men interpret and define masculinity.

As such, APA recommends that psychologists “working with boys and men strive to become educated about the history and cultural practices of diverse identities” and

[w]hile attempting to understand, respect, and affirm how masculinity is defined in different cultures, psychologists also try to avoid within-group stereotyping of individuals by helping them to distinguish what they believe to be desirable and undesirable masculine traits and to understand the reasons upon which they base these beliefs”.

This recommendation is easiest to understand through a lens of race or ethnicity (e.g., a black man or a refugee from Somalia), though has other applications.

Guideline 3: Psychologists understand the impact of power, privilege, and sexism on the development of boys and men and on their relationships with others.

More words that have the power to launch spittle across the screen.

My overall read of this guideline suggests that the ostensible privilege that boys and men have can also trap them. If boys and men are trying to fit into a masculine ideal that is unattainable, and that masculine ideal includes behaving in ways that are intended to restrict resources and power from others, that pursuit impairs their abilities to have effective and meaningful relationships with human beings. This leads to suffering for all involved. This ties into Guideline 4:

Psychologists strive to develop a comprehensive understanding of the factors that influence the interpersonal relationships of boys and men.

The recommendation is that psychologists

can discuss with boys and men the messages they have received about withholding affection from other males to help them understand how components of traditional masculinity such as emotional stoicism, homophobia, not showing vulnerability, self-reliance, and competitiveness might deter them from forming close relationships with male peers.

For me, the punchline of the practice guideline is actually tucked in the section that defines “masculine ideology”. The last sentence in that section is:

acknowledging the plurality of and social constructionist perspective of masculinity, the term masculinities is being used with increasing frequency. (emphasis mine)

If there are multiple definitions of “masculinity”, and knowing that those definitions can change over time, even within the same person, then we can use those changing definitions to help improve the psychological and physical health of boys and men.

Do I think the moral fiber of our nation will disintegrate if a boy or man chooses to wear nail polish? No.

Do I want boys and men to stop trying to achieve things? No.

Do I want them to avoid risks and adventure? No. (Do I want them to avoid stupid risks and pursue noble adventures to make great achievements? Yes.)

Do I want boys and men to engage in less violence? Yes, because I want everyone to engage in less violence. I value cooperation over conflict… and that’s the only way we’re going to survive as a species.

Do I think men should feel comfortable crying in public when they feel heartbroken? Given what some (many?) of them have experienced, yes. I want them to know we don’t think less of them when they need help… because we all do.

The “anti-femininity, achievement, eschewal of the appearance of weakness, and adventure, risk, and violence” of “traditional masculine ideology” is not “toxic” or evil. There were assumptions behind that definition and it’s outstanding that we can now challenge those assumptions. It means that we’re growing and learning, and don’t we want people and societies to change for the better as time passes?