We’ve become a nation of armchair psychiatrists

Are we becoming a nation of amateur psychoanalysts and armchair psychiatrists? We all speak the language of therapy and are quick to diagnose and label friends, strangers and even loved ones. Prince Harry does it to his wife Meghan Markle in a forthcoming five-part series on mental health for Apple TV that he’s co-produced with Oprah Winfrey.

Discussing his wife’s suicidal state of mind during her pregnancy Prince Harry offers this diagnosis: ‘The thing that stopped her from seeing it through was how unfair it would be on me after everything that had happened to my mum, and now to be put in the position of losing another woman in my life with a baby inside of her, our baby.’

That’s a rather simplistic diagnosis. Anyone familiar with the reality of suicide knows that the truly suicidal are in a dark place way beyond any considerations of what’s fair or unfair to loved ones.

Still, when it comes to mental health we all like to play Dr Know-It-All. Consider the term ‘on the spectrum’. You hear it all the time. It’s a condition diagnosed and discussed just as much at dinner parties as in consulting rooms. So ubiquitous is the practice of declaring someone ‘on the spectrum’ that I wonder: is there anyone who isn’t ‘on the spectrum’ these days?

We hear the term and we dutifully nod in agreement, without the faintest idea of what it really means. Ask for clarification and you get something like: ‘Oh you know, he’s a bit… aspergy’ or ‘She’s a touch autistic’.

But shouldn’t we be a bit more careful about sticking these sorts of labels on people? Of course some people really do have Asperger’s, and it’s no joke. But I’ve noticed that ‘aspergy’ has become a catch-all phrase for people — particularly teenage males — who are just very shy or socially awkward and withdrawn.