Disease/Illness: Messy and Unavoidably Normative
The concept of “illness” is
far more vexed and confusing than probably most people think. In the philosophy
of medicine literature, there are two major, fully independent (or ‘pure’) naturalistic (as opposed to normativist) accounts
of the nature of illness in biological organisms: the “biostatistical account”
and the disease-as-dysfuntion account. Both are massively unsatisfactory in
their own ways.
The biostatistical account
says, as the name implies, that an illness or disease is any kind of isolable physical
abnormality in an organism, where abnormality is defined as abnormality for the
relevant age-group and sex of that species, and for the kind of environment which
the organism inhabits (there is an unavoidable vagueness about all of the key terms in this definition
(the term “abnormality” and the specification of the reference class), which is
a problem we’ll explore in a minute).
Meanwhile, the disease-as-dysfunction
account says that we should understand illness as some kind of disruption of
the selected function of the organ or organs in question. As “Life history” theory
shows, many parts of the physiology of organisms have been selected to perform
different roles at different stages of life, so we may also need to look at
more specific reference classes than just the species according to this
account, too.
The main problems with the biostatistical
account are as follows:
1.) The word “abnormality” is extremely
vague (and making it more precise is doomed, for reasons we’ll see), and the
specification of the reference class is also (unavoidably) extremely vague. As
I make clear below, if we wanted a statistical account that fitted our concept
of disease best, it couldn’t lay down a general reference class for ‘abnormalities’:
it would sometimes have to take a very broad reference-class, and sometimes a
very narrow one. (This is another way of saying that the statistical account is
fucked.)
2.) The account implies that very
common diseases of aging like osteoarthiritis or dementia are not diseases for very
old people but are for people who get them prematurely. It implies, even more
strangely, that very unusually healthy old people (say, 80-year-olds without
any debilitative osteoarthritis and minimal cognitive decline) are diseased! This
evidently clashes violently with how the medical profession sees things (which ought
to be fatal for an account of disease).
3.) It simply cannot handle
epidemics, or times and places where a large slice of the population has had a
disease far less prevalent in other environments. It implies that the Black
Death was not a disease between 1346 and 1353, and that malaria isn’t a disease
in malaria-infested tropical regions. It seems to imply that the common lung
diseases in Victorian England weren’t diseases then, that cholera and dysentery
aren’t diseases in environments where they run rampant due to lack of clean
water, that having asthma or several allergies doesn’t make you pathological if
you are a contemporary First World child, and that being grossly overweight
doesn’t make you diseased if you are an American. This failure to handle environmentally-widespread
disease seems an immense flaw.
4.) Freakish athleticism or
freakish intelligence, or other beneficial mutations (in any organism), or unusual
psychological traits we say are worthy of respect, would be designated as
diseases on this account. More intriguingly, all forms of gender dysphoria
would be labelled a mental illness according to this account, simply because
gender dysphoria is still very rare; in recent times, such a view of ‘gender
non-conformity’ has come to be seen, among a certain very vocal and growing group
of young people, as a very reactionary position. The account may also designate
pure lesbianism as a sexual pathology, just as it designates (say) paedophilia
or extreme sexual sadism as sexual pathologies, seeing as pure lesbianism is
very rare (though presumably (one hopes) not quite as rare as paedophilia)). Contra
Steve Silberman and other advocates of the goodness of ‘neurodiversity’, it probably
implies that even high-functioning Asperger’s Syndrome is a disease for women
(and maybe men), and definitely implies that any more severe forms of autism
are a disease for men and women.
5.) It implies that wounds and
severe injuries are diseases. It implies that a man missing a leg from a
traumatic injury is diseased. Obviously, this is absurd.
6.) Most generally, it’s not explanatory.
In itself, the account doesn’t make sense of why disease is a bad thing.
Although the disease-as-dysfunction account solves
many of the major problems that the biostatistical account – a bit of
reflection will make clear that it overcomes the environmentally-widespread-disease
problem, the severe-injuries-as-disease absurdity, and is explanatory (diseases
are bad because they represent a form of dysfunction) – the main problems with it
are as follows:
1.)
It seems to have morally difficult or even repugnant conclusions in the
case of mental illness, and clashes violently with the DSM. Although it has
been long been suggested that, given its prevalence in our species,
homosexuality may somehow be an adaptation in our species (and one or two
not-completely-absurd just-so stories have been proposed, the most popular of
which is the “gay-uncle theory” that homosexuality (in men) may have been
weakly selected for in ancestral populations because children with gay uncles
or other close, older gay relatives did better because they had an extra carer
in their early development, and those children also had genes more likely to
create gay men, even if the gay men didn’t themselves reproduce)), no-one can
claim with any confidence that homosexuality was selected for (in fact, I would
suggest that a Bayesian aware of the evidence and arguments could rationally
have negative-confidence that it was selected for). Thus, this account implies
that homosexuality may well be a mental illness; fixed homosexual orientation
may represent a strong disruption of the adapted sexual behaviour of humans.
The account may also imply that men with ‘anger-management’ issues are not
typically pathological, or that jealous rage in men is not typically
pathological, or that spouses who fall into deep depression when they are
widowed are not typically pathological. It may also imply, if Randy Thornhill
and Craig Palmer are right about male-on-female rape being a selected behaviour
for ‘low-status’ males (a classic example of an evo-psych hypothesis which it
may be entirely pointless to debate, because it is not clear that we will ever
be able to establish with any confidence that it is right or wrong, or how much
selection pressure was applied to this very particular kind of behaviour over
(recent? distant?) evolutionary history)), that young, ‘low-status’ men in the
right kind of environment (an important clause because many adaptive behaviours
in organisms do not get expressed in all environments (a proponent of the
disease-as-dysfunction account wouldn’t have to say that pacifist young men
raised in a pacifist environment are pathological, even if tendencies for
aggression have been selected for in young men, for various reasons, because
that presupposes a silly, genetic-determinist view of evolution which makes the
account ridiculous)) who do not have any urges to rape women are pathological,
and that young, ‘low-status’ men in the right environment who do have urges to
rape women (and perhaps do rape women) are not pathological.
2.) It’s
very hard to say what is required for a trait to be an adaptation and, as I
made clear in my parenthetical interjection about pacifist males above, some
traits can be adaptations while not being very strongly
developmentally/environmentally canalised (because of culture and language and
shit, probably many human psychological traits and behavioural tendencies are
not strongly developmentally/environmentally canalised). This means that, in
practice, ‘applying’ this account would be very difficult. Also, as everyone
learns in high school, humans actually have adapted responses to infections and
viruses, produced by our immune system (symptoms of disease are often
(usually?) symptoms of an adapted immune-system attack on the disease), which
makes it extremely difficult (if not impossible) to state this account in a
non-question-begging way. You can’t say diseases are disruptions of the optimal selected
function of an organ/organs for an organism of that phase in the life cycle, or
disruptions of the healthy selected function…. There may be a
way around this but it hasn’t occurred to me straight away, and thinking about
this stuff is very mentally taxing.
Basically, all this should
make it clear that our concept of illness is not one which can be defined
according to sufficient and necessary conditions; instead, it is a vague,
‘family-resemblances’-type notion which combines ideas of rareness and
defection and deformity, and yet is also firmly conceptually distinct from
‘injury’ (diseases are forms of defect which aren’t brought about by physical
force). That’s why neither pure account is fully satisfactory. The above
discussion also made it very clear that there is a very significant normative
element to diagnosis of mental illness. In 2015, I tentatively came to the
conclusion that there was nothing objective about the move in modern times of
the psychiatric community to declare gender dysphoria (any kind of gender
dysphoria, whether the ‘homosexual-transsexual’-type or the
‘autogynephile’-type) a normal personality trait, rather than a mental illness,
because: a) it is extremely rare to have an overpowering
feeling that one has been ‘born in the wrong body’, or to be an autogynephile;
and b) to be gender-dysphoric is dysfunctional both in the sense that being
gender-dysphoric is likely to lead to social exclusion and censure (social
dysfunctionality is very relevant to the intuitive concept of mental illness),
and also seems to represent a big disruption of adapted sex-specific
psychological and behavioural tendencies (as anyone who’s read any of my other
posts on sex and gender would know, I don’t believe that none of the
psychological/behavioural sex differences that appear across multiple cultures
were selected for, and in fact I think that’s incredibly implausible). At the
time, the following question struck me as quite important: if you are not
thinking of mental illness in heavily normative terms, what makes gender
dysphoria a form of psychopathology? What I have realised is that you are thinking
of mental illness in heavily normative terms, and that this is unavoidable.
Mental illness is not objective; an intelligent alien species couldn’t pick out
which people our psychiatrists say are mentally ill and which aren’t without
becoming just like us, and understanding all of the details of our
psychological make-up and the culture in which we are embedded. There’s no way
an alien could possibly work out the difference between a serially
self-aggrandising person and someone with “narcissistic personality disorder”,
or between a “psychopath” and someone with low-empathy, or an “eccentric
genius” and a total weirdo, without seeing the world in almost exactly the way
we do (‘becoming us’, as it were). In fact, as the main discussion of this
essay made clear, an intelligent alien species couldn’t pick out physically
“diseased” versus “non-diseased” organisms in the same way we do it, even if
they had developed a strong understanding of earth biology. No doubt they would
have a similar concept to our “disease” but, seeing as our concept of “disease”
is so messy, it surely wouldn’t be the same.
To be clear, I'm not denying
that there are unambiguous cases of (even) mental illness (let alone denying
that there are unambiguous cases of non-mental illness): if a big movement
started up declaring that it was morally admirable to be delusional, it still
wouldn’t make sense to declassify schizophrenia. Obviously, if
a specific gender-dysphoric person has a more generalised anxiety on top of
their gender-related anxiety, or also has schizophrenia, we can definitely say
they’re mentally ill (and maybe, as controversial as this may sound, speculate
that their gender dysphoria is bound up with their general mental ill-health).
But there’s a fucktonne of fuzziness in the way we conceptualise illness and
disease, and that’s where our ethics comes in to try to make things a little
more sharp. That's my point.
It may have occurred to you
that this conclusion seems to raise some interesting questions about the
fashion among certain popular scientists and commentators (speaking on behalf
of the psychiatric community) to 'internalise' common mental illnesses like
depression and anxiety - a fashion symbolised by the refrain that such pathologies
are really "chemical imbalances in the brain". This
talk could be interpreted as simply a way of expressing the truism that the
mind supervenes on the brain: that is, that mental states can't change without
something changing in the brain. More often, though, it is a way of expressing
commitment to a theory about the instantiated signature of such common mental
illnesses which is, despite the rhetoric, not settled science. The following
extract from Marcia Angell's June 2011 article in The New York Review
of Books explains the origin of this theory, and the problems with it:
"When it was found that
psychoactive drugs affect neurotransmitter levels in the brain, as evidenced
mainly by the levels of their breakdown products in the spinal fluid, the
theory arose that the cause of mental illness is an abnormality in the brain’s
concentration of these chemicals that is specifically countered by the
appropriate drug. For example, because Thorazine was found to lower dopamine
levels in the brain, it was postulated that psychoses like schizophrenia are
caused by too much dopamine. Or later, because certain antidepressants increase
levels of the neurotransmitter serotonin in the brain, it was postulated that
depression is caused by too little serotonin. (These antidepressants, like
Prozac or Celexa, are called selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)
because they prevent the reabsorption of serotonin by the neurons that release
it, so that more remains in the synapses to activate other neurons.) Thus,
instead of developing a drug to treat an abnormality, an abnormality was
postulated to fit a drug.
That was a great leap in
logic, as all three authors point out. It was entirely possible that drugs that
affected neurotransmitter levels could relieve symptoms even if neurotransmitters
had nothing to do with the illness in the first place (and even possible that
they relieved symptoms through some other mode of action entirely). As Carlat
puts it, “By this same logic one could argue that the cause of all pain
conditions is a deficiency of opiates, since narcotic pain medications activate
opiate receptors in the brain.” Or similarly, one could argue that fevers are
caused by too little aspirin.
But the main problem with
the theory is that after decades of trying to prove it, researchers have still
come up empty-handed. All three authors document the failure of scientists to
find good evidence in its favor. Neurotransmitter function seems to be normal
in people with mental illness before treatment. In Whitaker’s words:
"Prior
to treatment, patients diagnosed with schizophrenia, depression, and other
psychiatric disorders do not suffer from any known “chemical imbalance.”
However, once a person is put on a psychiatric medication, which, in one manner
or another, throws a wrench into the usual mechanics of a neuronal pathway, his
or her brain begins to function…abnormally.”
Carlat refers to the
chemical imbalance theory as a “myth” (which he calls “convenient” because it
destigmatizes mental illness), and Kirsch, whose book focuses on depression,
sums up this way: “It now seems beyond question that the traditional account of
depression as a chemical imbalance in the brain is simply wrong.” "
As Angell also implies in
the above, some have gone so far as to claim, not merely that these common
pathologies are instantiated in terms of neurotransmitter imbalances, but that
the general cause of these pathologies is some kind of largely
genetically determined imbalance of this kind. My view, which I think ought to
be uncontroversial, is that some cases of mental illness can
only be explained on the biochemical or neurophysiological level - those cases
of sparked by no identifiable social or experiential cause must be sparked
instead by some unknowable web of chemical causes, something to do with the
chemical environment and the way it affects the expression of certain genes -
but that many other cases of mental illness clearly do warrant an experiential
and social explanation in combination with a 'lower-level' one. In fact, that
puts my case too weakly: I think it would be completely softheaded to
say that the cause of the mental illness of someone who develops PTSD after
going to war, or someone who develops psychosis after years of abusing drugs,
or someone who develops depression after the death of a loved one, or some
young girl who develops anorexia after fixating on the body shape of a famous
model, or some teenage boy who develops anxiety and suicidal tendencies after
consistent bullying and social ostracism, is merely something internal and
chemical. This is evidently not only softheaded, but false. The relevant, explanatory level
of causation in these cases is the social level. To be clear, this is not to
say that we should not talk about brain chemistry and genetics if we want a
thorough explanation for the development of psychopathology in these cases. I
do not believe this, because, clearly, some people have a greater predisposition to
developing these illnesses than others, and, clearly, some people may
experience more severe derangement after certain traumatic
events than others would. The explanation for these differences lies in
differences in genetics and brain differences, so such things evidently are
always at least a little relevant to a complete exposition of the causes of a mental
illness. But the point is that being overly reductionistic about this is
totally idiotic.
I suppose I'm sceptical of
the assumption of modern psychiatry (I don't want to generalise - I don't know
how dominated by this attitude psychiatry is) that the mental pathologies
"depression" and "anxiety", defined vaguely in terms of
behaviours and habits in response to certain social environments (if they
weren't defined vaguely, there wouldn't be borderline cases of depressed and anxious
people, though there clearly are, and there are very different degrees of
depression and anxiety also), would each reduce to their own simple chemical
signature. This seems highly unlikely on the face of it; I would have thought
the more likely scenario would be a constellation of different chemical
correlates, with each depressed or anxious person having a pattern differing in
a multitude of subtle ways.
Here's the thing: we cannot
ignore the massive fissure between the social and the neurobiological. Don't be
a Churchland.
No comments:
Post a Comment