When someone first falls ill our automatic response is to think ‘there should be someone to help with this’ but increasingly, as cuts hollow out social protections – regardless of whether they are provided by the private, public or voluntary sector – people are finding that the help that every thought should be there just isn’t.
People with long term mental health difficulties are some of the most vulnerable in society. And we hate it. We hate feeling that so much of our life depends on policy made in Whitehall or discussed in No. 10. We can’t pull off a magic trick and become not-unwell.
Even when we’re doing well it’s often because we’re getting the right help. That isn’t an argument for the removal of that help; it’s an argument for its continuation. The Liberal Democrats in coalition tried to lay a legacy of mental health change during the last Parliament. Some treated that with cynicism, but I’ve not reason to think it wasn’t heartfelt. Whether that sticks or not is based on whether our new government cares enough about mental health to do the one thing that government can do apart from trying to pass laws. It depends on whether they are prepared to spend money. It’s easy to look like savings are being made if you find ways of shifting costs off the balance sheet. It’s always possible to shift the costs of not investing in mental health off the balance sheet; to say that it’s individuals fault for not getting better, not making the best of what is on offer.
If the scale of cuts suggested is to put into action; the human cost of those cuts aren’t collateral damage. The human costs of those cuts are the core business of any government: the duty to protect its citizens or subjects. And for many who feel close to those cuts, the prevailing wind is bringing not a warm breeze of spring but a harsh chill of a never-ending winter.