When my son was two years old, he had an accident at the zoo, chipping his tooth on a metal lizard. The incident resulted in a lot of blood, prompting us to quickly seek dental care. The dentist initially reassured us that everything seemed fine. However, thirty minutes later, a follow-up call from the dentist raised concerns about a potential tooth fragment embedded in his mouth tissue based on the X-ray. Despite the urgent recommendation to take him to the emergency room for further investigation under general anesthesia, I hesitated. It was a Friday afternoon around 4 p.m., and I was in the process of getting him an ice cream treat.
This phone call marked a pivotal moment for me as a parent. It was the first time I found myself questioning the advice of a medical professional when it came to my child’s well-being. Despite my usual deference to authority figures, the idea of subjecting my young son to anesthesia on a Friday evening due to a tiny speck on an X-ray seemed unreasonable. I made the decision to monitor him for any signs of infection instead of proceeding with the recommended procedure, and fortunately, no complications arose.
I share this personal anecdote to highlight a broader societal trend that Abigail Shrier explores in her latest book, “Bad Therapy: Why the Kids Aren’t Growing Up.” Shrier, a well-educated author, argues that we have become too quick to medicalize and intervene in normal childhood experiences, turning everyday challenges into causes for alarm. Drawing on a mix of anecdotes and research, she criticizes therapists, school counselors, and the language of therapy for potentially harming children.
Shrier’s critique resonates with a wide audience, including liberal parents, who may also see merit in her observations about the current parenting landscape. However, Shrier’s approach tends to be confrontational rather than engaging with differing perspectives. She portrays a culture where parents strive for their children’s constant happiness, avoiding any form of discomfort, failure, or trauma. This relentless pursuit of perfection, she argues, has led to an overreliance on therapy and interventions for children.
One central theme in “Bad Therapy” is the notion that children may benefit more from less therapy and more independence. Shrier points out the alarming rates of diagnosed mental, behavioral, and developmental disorders among young children and questions whether our tendency to pathologize normal emotions and experiences contributes to this trend. She highlights the risk of young individuals internalizing diagnostic labels and turning to substances for relief.
While Shrier raises valid concerns about the current approach to childhood development, particularly in terms of emotional resilience and independence, her sweeping generalizations about therapy and social-emotional learning (SEL) warrant scrutiny. She critiques SEL programs for potentially amplifying emotional distress and fostering helplessness instead of resilience. However, she overlooks the potential benefits of SEL in promoting healthy emotional expression and interpersonal skills.
Moreover, Shrier’s portrayal of therapy and parenting practices, such as gentle parenting, often veers into caricature and condemnation. By painting a picture of well-meaning parents as overly permissive and ineffective, she overlooks the nuances and challenges of modern parenting. While she raises valid points about the need for boundaries and resilience-building, her portrayal of certain parenting approaches lacks depth and empathy.
In navigating the complex landscape of child development and parenting, it is crucial to recognize the diverse perspectives and challenges that families face. While Shrier’s critique of certain trends in parenting and therapy raises important questions, a more nuanced and inclusive approach to these discussions is essential for fostering understanding and supporting children’s holistic growth and well-being.