
The conversation sparked by Andrew Tate’s claim on twitter that “depression” isn’t real continues. In this video, he is interviewed on the subject by Paul Joseph Watson. Tate’s attack on the myth of the “disease of depression” rattled more than few cages. A few days ago, I weighed in with this post. As I have reflected more on the subject, several thoughts have surfaced. Here they are in no particular order.
One: Sadness exists. Extended periods of sadness and inner misery may characterize life for some people. I don’t think Andrew is questioning these obvious realities. I certainly am not. Rather, we must draw a distinction between the symptoms of what we call depression– a persistent feeling of sadness, lack of interest in and energy for life, feelings of low self-worth– and the idea of “depression” as a disease.
The fact that people struggle with some or all of those symptoms does not mean “depression” exists as a disease. No one is questioning whether those qualities we think of as symptoms of “depression” exist. What we question is the biomedical model of “depression”, the notion that “depression” is a disease like malaria that instead of creating a high fever in its victims creates an imbalance of neurochemicals.
Someone on twitter asked me, in an obvious attempt to discredit my observations on this topic, if I were a neuroscientist. I am not, but I am a person who knows how to use Google. Had my critic taken the time to perform a few simple Google searches, she’d have seen that many experts are questioning the biomedical/ disease model of “depression.” Here is an article about the topic from Scientific American. Here is a relevant post from a psychologist at Psychology Today.
Once we separate the cluster of symptoms of “depression” from the notion of “disease”, we can easily see that the notion of depression as a disease of neurochemistry is only a kind of folk tale. Like a lot of folk tales,this one too doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. Also like most folk tales, this one gets traction in our culture not because it’s true, but for other more dubious reasons.
Two: The fact that “depression” does not exist as a disease of neurochemistry doesn’t mean that there is no connection between what we call “depression” and the brain. Yes, sometimes people who are “depressed” have a lack of serotonin or some other brain chemical. Other brain conditions might be correlated with what we call “depression”. But, correlation is not causation.
That the brain changes in response to our repeated patterns of thought and action is well established. Just think about learning to play the piano. Learning to play the piano is not just a matter of learning to move one’s fingers. It is also a matter of changing one’s brain.
The neurological conditions we associate with “depression” then, can just as easily be a result as a cause. After a long period of sadness, for example, it may be that the brain changes in a way that makes ceasing to be sad more difficult than it would otherwise be. Perhaps, then, it would be better to talk about depression not so much as the kind of thing one “has”, but as the kind of thing one “practices.”
Since the brain conditions correlated with “depression” can just as easily be a result as a cause, we must ask why so much of our culture insists, without grounds, that they are causes. There are two reasons.
First, our materialistic culture privileges the material. The bias of our scientistic approach to life simply assumes that the causes of problems are physical. We assume that whatever our machines can detect and measure must be the basis of whatever problem we are trying to solve.
Still, a deeper motive applies: our cultural dream of amorality. The modern world is obsessed with the fantasy that all human actions, except for those that are “discriminatory”, are morally neutral. The argument that brain conditions alone are behind the “disease of depression” eliminates the possibility that the consequences of immoral, unwise actions might be loneliness, sadness and low self-esteem–exactly that group of symptoms we call “depression.” Casting “depression” as a matter of impersonal chemistry, shields people from the thought that actions have moral consequences and thus allows the daydream of amorality to continue.
Three: The biomedical model of depression ignores and thus protects from criticism a cultural context in which all unhappiness is pathologized. Modern people generally operate on the notion that happiness is the default mode of living. When people experience something else, they assume it’s a deviation from the norm.
Honest and reflective adults, few of whom, admittedly, are walking around these days, know this is not the case. For most people, emotional life involves a constant thread of sadness and anxiety. These strains of sadness and anxiety grow stronger at some times and at others fade into the background. But, they are always there. Certainly, it may be the case that for some people the role sadness and anxiety play in their emotional lives is more pronounced. The distribution of such things probably falls on a bell curve with a few people who experience little sadness or anxiety on one end and people for whom these things are debilitating on the other. Most of us fall in between.
Yet, we ignores this reality. Our materialistic, atheistic values tell us that this life is all there is. If we believe that, we are inclined to think suffering of any type is a problem to be avoided since it compromises our only chance at fulfillment. And thus, we are eager to cast internal suffering as a “disease” to which we can apply a technological cure.
Four: Our society wants to call “depression” a disease in order to avoid changing. We live in a society that inflicts trauma. Through our casual attitudes about divorce and sex, as well as our worship of wealth, career and pleasure we do untold damage. This is our open secret, what everyone knows that no one is supposed to say. I mean, when you are told that your dad can stop being your dad and instead become a second mom, and that your duty is to be nothing but affirming when he does, that’s traumatic.
To protect our moral-free-for-all of a culture, we cast “depression” as an individual, psychological problem rather than as the predictable consequence of moral and social decay. All the energy that goes into seeking treatment for “depression” could just as easily go into, say, reforming divorce laws to prevent the trauma and the subsequent “depression” divorce brings about in its victims. The “depressed’ are a huge group who, should they ever see their “disease” as stemming from the structure of our society, would be politically unstoppable. In short, we cast “depression” as an individual problem to avoid a revolution.
All these observations point to the same conclusion: that “depression”, at least as a simple biochemical “disease”, does not exist. Curing it is not a simple matter of correcting the chemistry at play in the brain. Most people who react strongly to these ideas do so either because they are suffering, or because they fear increasing the suffering of others. No good person wants intentionally to increase the suffering of others.
But, the truth hurts. Fortunately though, unlike the falsehoods our society pedals, it doesn’t hurt forever. Rather, when the initial sting passes, it heals like no medicine ever can.