Going all-in on mental health
It was a casual question, asked quietly whilst we were preparing food over the Christmas break:
“So why are you interested in mental health?”
I’d answered the question lots of times. But this time felt different, asked with genuine curiosity, and it made me pause. I’d always presented a clear story to others, but I hadn’t really asked myself.
Honestly, I fell into the space. I happened to do a short pro bono project with Mind, the mental health charity, early in my career and loved it. This snowballed into a published report, which got me digging further. It wasn’t until I looked back a few years ago that I saw mental health and technology as a common thread across so many of my personal and professional projects.
As we start the second phase of the Zinc Academy and I start a new role with Big Health, I wanted to share why this topic resonates so much, and why I’m excited about technology as a tool to improve population-wide mental health.
It’s human
“The opposite of addiction is human connection.” Johann Hari
Every so often, on a Tuesday, I’d check the time and find myself scrambling to leave the office early. As I jumped on the tube, I’d open my laptop to finish the email I was halfway through, hoping three stops would be enough. This was my usual routine to get to NHS Trust meetings, learning about and discussing the front lines of mental health services as a Governor. My favourite part of these meetings was hearing from patients. Patients with raw and honest stories that reminded me of our shared humanity, and why we have the services and support that we do. Every time I left the room, I realised that hearing peoples’ stories was the most valuable thing I’d done in my day.
1 in 4 people will experience a problem with their mental health each year, which means if it’s not personal for you, it’s personal for someone you love. At the start of the Zinc Academy, everyone in our cohort described their ‘rocket fuel’; the thing that drove them to have an impact in mental health. In truth, I’d not prepared for this (sorry, Zinc!). But as I heard people talk of their stories, or those of others, I realised that the motivation I felt couldn’t be pinpointed in one example. The best way I can describe it is a growing understanding — with every story and expression of vulnerability — of the true extent of the ups and downs we all face. For many, talking about mental health means stripping away conceptions of what we ‘should’ present about ourselves and instead, unapologetically embracing our humanity.
It’s messy
“Fall in love with the problem, not the solution, and the rest will follow.” Uri Levine
Four years ago, my team grabbed a whiteboard, armed with a big challenge. We wanted to visually represent months of research around the case for investing in mental health. Something which made our points so clear that it was impossible to ignore. As part of the discussion, we talked about how mental health isn’t binary — present or absent, or good or bad — but how it’s on a spectrum. This way everyone could relate, because everyone can feel the impact of a good or bad day. I nodded sagely at this insight. So you can imagine my shock when one of our first speakers at Zinc talked about the myth of the spectrum of mental health. We should be thinking in two dimensions — your mental health and also whether you’re thriving. Ten sessions and countless speakers later, any elegant frameworks I might have built collapsed into pieces as we uncovered more and more complexity.
If you asked me today to draw what I know about mental health, it’s messy, with big gaps. For example, we still don’t have objective ways to measure our mental health- instead relying on the answers to questions like “How often have you had trouble relaxing in the last two weeks?”. These gaps aren’t being closed as quickly as I’d like. Mental health research receives 25 times less funding per person affected than physical conditions, such as cancer. Even then, the majority of funding goes into the biology of mental health, even though other factors like experiences in childhood, or traumas, play a huge explanatory role. The more I learn, the more I’m humbled by the complexity of the space.
For me, working in mental health is creative problem-solving on steroids as you need to think openly, creatively and across multiple dimensions every day. You can’t tackle everything, but you’ve got a better chance at improving one element if you can understand the systems and nuances around it.
It’s urgent
“My level of care was suddenly cut off and I was told counselling services were further delayed because of lockdown.” Quote from Young Minds
I’m going to keep this one short because we’re living through a mental health crisis right now (and I want you to reach to the more optimistic next section!). But I will say this: the demand and supply imbalance for mental health services is heartbreaking. In the UK, antidepressant prescriptions are at an all-time high whilst referrals for psychological therapies are falling despite significant levels of mood disorders, and waiting lists continue to grow.
One of our speakers at Zinc, Akiko Hart, memorably described waiting lists as a form of neglect — something that any service user can relate to. Waiting for help, whilst your condition worsens, is painful. There are wonderful services like Shout and the Samaritans who provide support to people in crisis, but these simply can’t replace the role of long-term support and treatment. As hard-working clinicians face risks to their own mental health during the pandemic, helping scale the supply side of mental health care couldn’t feel like a more timely mission.
It’s hopeful
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” Margaret Mead
I’m writing this after completing a short digital detox. I think a lot about the net impact of technology on our mental health and part of the detox was to test what I could do if I spent less time on a screen (spoiler: lots). I did keep using a few apps though: Audible, Calm, Spotify and Daylight, which seamlessly fit into a more calm and purposeful period.
I don’t think the solution is to reject technology to improve our mental health: in fact, I’m more hopeful than ever about technology’s role as a supportive tool. It can help us express our vulnerabilities, collect evidence to help better-understand conditions, and provide a scalable, blended model of care where we bring together the best of health professionals and evidence-based software.
What next?
I’m delighted to be shifting my focus to mental health and tech full time by joining Big Health, a company whose mission is to help millions back to good mental health. They do this through digital therapeutics (evidence-based software as medicine) for insomnia and poor sleep, and anxiety and worry. I’ve been following their progress for years (the origin story is a great read) and couldn’t be more excited to join the team and help us partner to scale access to their products.
If the mission speaks to you, as a healthcare worker, patient, carer or digital health enthusiast I’d love to hear from you! Do drop me a message, and I look forward to continuing the conversation.
