Helping our neighbours makes us human
The video starts out grimly. A narrator tells us that a young woman named Sarah wrote a suicide note and left home with the intention to end her life. Ominous images flash across the screen. But then a surprise. The soft, British accented voiceover says, “I’m pleased to tell you she didn’t go through with it, because someone took the time to stop and talk to her.” “I know this because … I am Sarah,” she finishes.
The public service announcement released by the Samaritans, a non-profit mental-health promotion organization in the U.K., is intended to remind people that suicide is preventable, that so much more often than not, people find ways to survive and that even small gestures of human kindness save lives.
I show this video to audiences routinely as an example of a powerful and safe public message about suicide as part of my work as a psychiatrist and suicide prevention researcher. When it ends, I ask for people’s reactions. There is always a pause and a heaviness in the room because of the emotional weight of the material.
The video is effective. With some regularity, I have seen it bring seasoned mental-health care workers to tears. It does this like clockwork here in Canada. So I was enthusiastic to show it to a U.S. audience for the first time last year in a lecture I gave at the University of Michigan.
The crowd, a mix of students, researchers and mentalhealth experts, watched the video with polite interest. But it unexpectedly fell a bit flat. The comment that stuck with me came from a woman who identified herself as a clinician at a nearby hospital. She was surprised an advocacy group would call on people to intervene in this way, adding it wasn’t her responsibility to look after or help others on her way to work. She thought it was asking too much of busy commuters. I didn’t quite know what to say. After all, this was someone who chose a career providing care to people in mental distress.
I’ve been thinking about that exchange as COVID deaths have soared in the U.S. to more than double the per capita rate we have here in Canada. I’ve wondered if it could help to explain why public safety measures have been so much more controversial in parts of America.
A central message of the lecture I gave, and that video, is that we ought to feel empowered and hopeful that the health of our society can be protected if we all do our small part. That message is even more timely during a pandemic when we must all wear masks, practice physical distancing, and, yes, curtail some of our precious freedoms for the greater good of our communities.
I’ve always admired the fierce individualism at the core of American culture. It’s helped lead to extraordinary achievements and innovations in business, technology and science. But in my work as a psychiatrist, I am often reminded that our greatest strengths sometimes also get us into trouble. I’ve learned that balance is one of life’s most important virtues and one that can be surprisingly elusive. Extremist rhetoric from politicians, in any country, can make that reality even more fleeting. There are many reasons to be alarmed when leaders take the view that it is every person (or every country) for themselves.
As we approach the presidential election, I’d like to offer some unsolicited advice to our southern neighbours: My wish is that you have a serious conversation about how best to preserve the autonomy you cherish while also remembering to do your part to help your fellow citizens. That balance is the key to solving the quagmire of this pandemic, among other social challenges, like the provision of health care and sensible gun control measures. Taking a moment to help someone on our way to work doesn’t infringe on our human rights. It makes us human.
I am proudly Canadian, but I also love the United States and I care about Americans. You are my uncles, aunts, cousins, friends and colleagues. That’s why it’s important for me to take the time to stop and say something. I don’t want to stand by while my neighbours suffer and die. Deep down, I know you don’t, either.
The health of our society can be protected if we all do our small part