We’ll live to regret trying to cure ‘naughty’ children with drugs

JaNe has a high-powered job in human resources. Felix, her husband, is an architect. and until recently, their nine-yearold son, Percy, was one of the worst-behaved children I have ever met.

He was shouty, rude and defiant. He never sat still and couldn’t buckle down to any activity for more than two minutes before throwing it aside and racing round the room, screaming his head off.

It won’t surprise you that he was diagnosed with attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (aDHD). like thousands of other children thought to have aDHD, he was prescribed methylphenidate hydrochloride — known as ritalin.

Just one problem. ritalin didn’t cure his symptoms. In fact, they got worse. So much worse that Percy’s teachers couldn’t cope and he had to be sent to a special school.

Jane was at her wits’ end when she asked for my advice — and was astonished when I told her: ‘Why not take him off the drugs?’ She thought this would plunge her family deeper into misery.

But it didn’t. Percy grew calmer. and at my suggestion, Jane and Felix took him to a family therapist, who helped untangle the real cause of his behaviour.

The poor little chap felt totally out of control because he almost never saw his parents, who worked round the clock and left him in the care of a clueless nanny. Percy was rudderless, confused and scared. It was enough to make anyone act up.

So what had modern medicine done? Drugged him.

History is littered with treatments that any decent doctor would be horrified by today. We used to treat schizophrenia by overdosing patients on insulin so they went into a coma. Migraines were ‘cured’ by drilling holes in people’s heads.

Frankly, I think the way we treat aDHD will look every bit as appalling to our successors.

What few people realise is that ritalin is actually a stimulant. yes, perversely, we prescribe a stimulant in a condition where sufferers are hyperactive. The idea is that it produces a paradoxical effect and quietens the child, allowing their attention to improve.

Sounds unlikely? I think so, too.

Nearly a million prescriptions for ritalin and other aDHD medications were written last year — double the amount handed out a decade ago. yet there’s very little proof it does any good.

This week, a review by the Cochrane organisation — the gold standard in medicine — warned it should be prescribed with caution because the evidence of benefits is so poor.

It seems almost unbelievable that we are pumping our children full of these pills when they are known to have serious side-effects — such as affecting growth, causing sleep problems and increasing the risk of self-harm. and there’s a broader worry about the aDHD label itself. Parents are coming into schools telling mystified teachers that their child has just been diagnosed and has to take a mindaltering substance every day.

yet the teachers have not noticed any behaviour problems in school — which suggests it’s something that only happens at home.

aDHD is a complex condition, with genetics, environment and social factors all playing a part. But the World Health Organisation states that it can be a symptom of dysfunction or inadequacies within a family, rather than a problem with the individual child.

Too often, that’s ignored. It is easier to whack a label on a child than to accept there might be a parenting problem that needs to be addressed.

I say this not to blame parents in any way. The most loving, caring families can have a child diagnosed with aDHD. I’m just not sure that medicalising a child’s disruptive behaviour really helps them because once a child is labelled with aDHD, every aspect of their behaviour is seen through this prism.

THe child no longer receives discipline or punishment because they are deemed sick, not naughty. and so bad behaviour can escalate.

I fear that by giving behaviour-changing drugs to young children —whose tender brains are still developing — we’re letting down an entire generation and missing the chance to help families with real, deep-rooted problems.

I also find it disturbing that adults are muscling in on aDHD. It’s become a popular diagnosis among private patients, who pay doctors big money to be given a get- out- of-jail card for their own wayward behaviour.

Some people are talking of an ‘adult aDHD epidemic’. as ever, america seems to be leading the way — but we’re not far behind.

I’m unconvinced. It’s too easy to jump on the aDHD bandwagon and use it to justify being easily distracted or bored in a manner other adults can’t get away with. Claiming to have a medical condition absolves you of responsibility to fix your behaviour.

Someone I know who is in his 30s was recently diagnosed with aDHD. He was a bit fidgety and flighty, but basically perfectly normal until he started on ritalin. Now he can’t sit still and can barely hold a conversation. It’s like talking to someone on cocaine.

and that’s no surprise. It’s a stimulant, after all. I have a chilling sense that in years to come we will look back at this mess and hang our heads in shame.