Can politicians see their own vulnerability?

“I have been a practicing fruitcake for thirty-one years” claimed Conservative MP Charles Walker in a UK House of Commons debate, in 2012. This was Walker’s attempt to alleviate the stigma around mental health by publicly discussing his own condition in parliament.

Walker light-heartedly described his struggles with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), a condition that forces him to live his life by the ‘rule of four’. That is, he must always wash his hands four times. If he washes his hands five times, he must then continue to eight, and so on.

Labour MP Kevan Jones, meanwhile, opened up on his struggles with “deep depression related to work issues”, and the difficulty he faced in sharing his condition with others.

The debate was hailed as a watershed moment, paving the way for a future in which the mental wellbeing of parliamentarians was provided sufficient attention and support.

For UK MPs it worked, sort of, but you wouldn’t necessarily know about it, which is a problem.

Following this debate, a Parliamentary Health and Wellbeing service was established (2013) within the Westminster estate. This provided in-house occupational health services to members of parliament, including provisions for mental health counselling, psychiatry, and drug therapies.

Fast-forward to 2019, the British Medical Journal released a study into the overall mental health of UK MPs.

The study found two important things:

1.      That MPs were twice as likely to report mental health issues than a similar control group of high-income earners.

2.     77% of those surveyed were unaware of the in-house mental health services parliament provided.  

What does this mean?

If you’re a politician reading this, I know what you’re about to say, “parliament needs to advertise it better”.

It does not only mean that MPs are more vulnerable to mental health conditions than other successful professionals, although that is quite a big deal (the Silent MP deals with this elsewhere).

It means there is a serious disconnect between the reality of what a politician needs, and a politician recognising this.

So, why the disconnect?

See above.

As a generalised group, politicians struggle to come to terms with their own vulnerability.  

The Silent MP knows first-hand how challenging it is for a politician to think about their own mental wellbeing while serving zillions of others.

There is simply very little time to tend to it, even if the red light is flashing, which is typically less of a red light and more of quiet awareness that you’re sleeping less and drinking more etc.

Even when you see that red light flashing, it is never easy to get your car serviced, you are simply that busy, and you cannot get a replacement to nip around in no matter how many great minds surround you.

No one can step in for you, physically, that is the reality of elected office.

But that is the reality of many professions, such as being a singer, author or an athlete, and it feels that way for everyone doing something they care passionately about.

So, what is really blocking political self-awareness?

Obviously, every MP is different. Yet, the self-selected nature of this profession, as it is now, means that many politicians are still driven by personality traits that make it deeply uncomfortable for them to admit to having a personal challenge or indulge in thoughts of personal needs, let alone act on them.   

So, those who see the red light flashing, do so privately. Politicians frequent physiotherapists more than professional athletes, while struggling to get to the gym.  

This is partly their own personal shame response. But is also partly a response to the political system.

While public figures outside of politics, including large corporate CEO’s, are typically rewarded for daring greatly and sharing their shame story, we have yet to make politicians win at the ballot box if they admit to battling with depression. 

MPs must (re)discover their own limits, human capabilities, and vulnerabilities, something that is really difficult when you exist in a complex space between the ordinary and the extra-ordinary.

Yet, endeavouring to get in touch with your ordinary-ness and nurturing this while being an extra-ordinary human would go a long way in making your political career sustainable, which benefits everyone - not just physiotherapists.