The United States is currently grappling with a significant mental health crisis, marked by a sharp increase in psychological issues such as depression and anxiety. Recent reports highlight a troubling trend: in the Netherlands, there has been a 60% annual increase in cases of euthanasia motivated by a desire to end psychological suffering. Of the 10,000 patients who died by euthanasia in Holland last year, one in 10 did so out of mental anguish. This alarming statistic underscores the severity of the mental health challenges faced by individuals worldwide.

Discussions about the rise in anxiety and depression often point to the COVID-19 pandemic as a primary cause. However, a more accurate assessment would attribute this surge to the lockdowns implemented during the pandemic. The long-term psychological effects of enforced isolation have played a more significant role than the virus itself. The lockdowns of 2020 and 2021 were imposed on a society already experiencing increasing levels of isolation, disappointment, and failure—emotions that had long been medicalized and established as semi-permanent ‘conditions’. This trend has been developing over decades and has culminated in the crisis we see today.

Over 20 years ago, in his book, “Therapy Culture,” Frank Furedi observed that “virtually every challenge or misfortune that confronts people is represented as a direct threat to their emotional wellbeing.” He wrote of the widespread “belief that we lack the emotional resources to cope with disappointment and adverse circumstances.” He also warned that, invariably, “the role assigned to people becomes a passive one.” These insights remain highly relevant today, as the transformation of Western culture into one that prioritizes feelings above all else was well underway by the early 2000s. The aftermath of the death of Princess Diana in 1997 made this shift particularly evident. The self-styled ‘caring’ Nineties, with its rhetoric of ’emotional intelligence’ and ‘getting in touch with your feelings,’ set the stage for the current state of mental health in society.

While lockdowns were imposed on a younger generation who had been taught to see themselves as fragile, they were enacted by politicians who also believed that human beings were incapable of resilience and fortitude. This belief in human fragility has been evident in various policies and societal attitudes. For instance, the increasing reliance on disability benefits among young people reflects a broader trend of disengagement from the workforce and a retreat into dependency. This shift not only affects economic productivity but also has profound implications for mental health, as prolonged idleness can deepen feelings of uselessness and worthlessness.

Now, we see the most gruesome consequence of the idea that individuals are fundamentally helpless: young people in Holland, in the growing belief that they can’t cope with life, are now asking the state to kill them. Our therapeutic culture has a lot to answer for. This situation raises critical ethical and moral questions about the role of society and the state in addressing mental health issues. It also highlights the need for a more robust support system that empowers individuals to face life’s challenges without resorting to extreme measures.

The Vileness of the Virtue-Signallers

According to a report in the Telegraph, followers of taxpayer-funded charity Stop Funding Hate have been involved in spreading anti-Semitic messages online. The campaign group recently called for a boycott of Israeli-sourced goods and encouraged people to sign a petition urging Marks & Spencer to stop advertising on GB News. It purports to challenge ‘all forms of discrimination without exception.’ However, some of its allies clearly haven’t got the memo. Followers have used Stop Funding Hate’s Facebook page to claim that Marks & Spencer—a retailer established by a Jewish immigrant—supports ‘Nazis’ and ‘genocide,’ and is ‘run by misogynistic fascists.’ One signatory to its Marks & Spencer petition referred to ‘Jew vermin’ and said Israel is a ‘Jewish terrorist state.’ There is a double irony here. A group that claims to stand against hatred now stands accused of ‘amplifying’ hatred. What’s more, Stop Funding Hate was given £100,000 in January from a foundation that receives grants from the state. The same British state that, in recent years, has become obsessed with tackling hatred. None of this should really surprise us, however. Those who boast loudly of their benevolent motives, as Stop Funding Hate’s name implies, think this gives them a licence to be vile. The ‘anti-fascism’ advocacy group, Hope Not Hate, has form in this regard. In its mission to rid Britain of ‘fascism’ and ‘Islamophobia,’ it has casually smeared everyone from Tory MPs to gender-critical feminists to free-speech campaigners as far-right-adjacent threats to democracy. ‘Anti-hate’ activists, like all people convinced of their compassionate intent, are usually trouble. Those possessed with iron-clad self-righteousness, and a moral mission to rid the world of evil, will act in whatever hateful and despicable manner they see fit.

A Life Lived Virtually Is No Life at All

There has been much reflection about the lessons to be learned from the COVID-19 lockdowns. One conclusion, as many have written on spiked over recent days, is that the diktats of politicians and opinions of experts should never be unthinkingly accepted, and that individuals deserve more trust: people often react sensibly rather than recklessly when danger appears. There is a further, more abstract lesson. The lockdowns should teach us that a life lived virtually is no life at all. When lockdowns arrived, many of us seemed to have forgotten that we were embodied human beings. By 2020, the digital revolution had ingrained the myth that our bodies were merely fleshy encumbrances, that we are, in essence, mind and thought. Our ‘true’ selves could be represented and transmitted online. What made the lockdowns so shocking was the revelation that this was a delusion. When deprived of bodily contact—from meeting each other, shaking hands, touching, hugging, even having sexual intercourse—we were made aware once more that to be human is to have a mind and a body. So much dissatisfaction and dysfunction today continues to stem from people living more online and less outside. Loneliness, envy, mistrust, insecurity, polarization, intolerance, feelings of invisibility: all these emotions have been accentuated by a retreat into the less-than-real world. In this ersatz domain, our full humanity is brutally diminished. All tone of voice or facial cues denoting sarcasm, irony, jocularity, self-deprecation, and doubt are absent. Nuance vanishes. What might otherwise be understood as constructive criticism or qualified disagreement in the pub, café, or office is, by default, interpreted as hostility or

What are some of the most common mental disorders globally?