Google Books preview here.
“1961 was a significant year in the history of psychiatry because
 it spawned a proliferation of critical books by psychiatrists, 
sociologists, and philosophers in both the United States and 
Europe—launching psychiatry into crisis.” (Pols, p. 16)
Call it a coincidence, but Mad Magazine was right: with the publication of The Myth of Mental Illness, the world turned upside down in 1961. The author of that book, Dr. Thomas Szasz
 (1920-2012), was one of the greatest thinkers and prose stylists of the
 last 100 years. Has it really been seven years since he died? It has, 
and enough time has passed that we can start to take stock of his 
legacy.
This important new collection of essays by former colleagues, psychiatrists, philosophers, and legal experts does just that.
I should make two disclosures before proceeding. First, the editors 
of this new book were colleagues of Szasz’s at SUNY Upstate Medical 
Center in Syracuse, New York, and they have hosted me in their speaker 
series several times. Second, theirs is the second book to examine 
Szasz’s legacy, and I contributed an essay to the first.
Of course, the editors make important disclosures of their own. 
First, as Dr. James Knoll remarks, psychiatry is “a hybrid profession of
 clinical science and humanities” (104). Second, as Dr. Haldipur states,
 “Szasz’s own writings are best read as philosophy rather than as 
psychiatry. . . . His true métier was that of a philosopher 
rather than of a psychiatrist” (278). This explains why I, a professor 
of Classics—a branch of the humanities, including philosophy—venture to 
review a book dedicated to an appraisal of Szasz’s legacy.
What is that legacy? In a 1998 manifesto, Szasz himself put it the following way:
- Mental illness is a metaphor (metaphorical disease).
- Psychiatry and the State ought to be separated by a “wall.”
- We ought to presume that psychiatric “defendants” are mentally competent.
- Involuntary mental hospitalization is imprisonment under the guise of treatment.
- The opinions of experts about the “mental state” of defendants ought to be inadmissible in court.
- We seek to replace involuntary psychiatry (psychiatric slavery) with contractual relations between care givers and clients.
Szasz undergirded these six contentions with an enormous apparatus of
 books, articles, and media appearances. How do they hold up under 
scrutiny?
Readers familiar with The Myth of Mental Illness will 
recognize the first point as his main contention there (it is accurately
 summarized by Church’s essay here). And on the evidence of this book, I
 can only conclude it emerges brighter and more solid than before. The 
authors all concede the point either implicitly or explicitly. For 
example, in 1994 Dr. Allen Frances
 led the group that revised the DSM, the official book of psychiatric 
diagnoses. In 2019, however, Dr. Frances writes (171): “I agree 
completely with Szasz that mental disorders are not diseases and that 
treating them as such can sometimes have noxious legal consequences.” 
And although they will disagree, other authors implicitly concede the 
point by simply contesting the definition of disease or health
 (Wilson, Pies, Torrey). But since Szasz had always defined those words 
in biological terms, contesting his premise simply changes the debate 
rather than resolves it.
The second five points all relate to Szasz’s policy ideas. Most 
chapters in this book engage with them in one form or another, and 
several are devoted to them exclusively:
- What should we do to or for someone contemplating suicide? (Knoll)
- What are the best practices for therapists in clinical settings? (Dewan and Kaplan)
- Should we keep the insanity defense? (Pickering)
- How should psychiatric research funding be prioritized and directed? (Gupta)
Suffice it to say that most authors shrink from Szasz’s commitment to
 libertarianism and the utopian schemes that cold creed tends to dream 
up.
Other essays provide absorbing context to the development of Szasz’s 
thought or rhetorical strategies (Pols, v.d. Luft, Radden), or they 
extend Szasz’s legacy by looking at “psychopathy” (which, to my 
surprise, is not considered a mental illness) (Ciaccio). Still others, 
such as Sadler, examine the relationship between mental illnesses and 
value judgments; and since, in my view, Szasz’s greatest books—The Theology of Medicine, The Manufacture of Madness, and Coercion as Cure—hew closely to this theme, I would have liked to see more along these lines.
The six points Szasz himself enumerated, however, are not the only 
points the editors consider part of Szasz’s legacy. As Haldipur 
emphasizes in an important epilogue, Szasz’s writings did play some role
 in deinstitutionalization, and Szasz himself succumbed to the unethical
 temptation of retroactive diagnosis on at least one occasion (viz. in 
his 2006 book on Virginia Woolf).
Surely the most maddening aspect of Szasz’s legacy, however, was his 
decision to partner with Scientology to achieve his policy ambitions. 
That decision continues to confuse many people, but aside from one nod 
to it by Haldipur and another by Torrey, no one chose to kick that 
hornet’s nest. Someone should. As Torrey notes, “Szasz’s association 
with Scientology has probably done more to undermine his reputation, and
 thus lose the benefit of his many useful ideas, than any other factor” 
(101). I agree.
Silver tarnishes in your china cabinet, whereas scouring and buffing 
restores its gleam. The editors’ decision to take that approach in this 
collection—tough love, not unconditional love—makes Thomas Szasz: an appraisal of his legacy an important assessment of his thought. It deserves to be read, discussed, and debated widely.
 

 
  
 
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