A recent op-ed piece in the New York Times by Anthony D. Mancini reported surprising and disturbing preliminary findings from a military PTSD study soon to be published in the British Journal of Psychiatry. Mancini, an assistant professor of psychology at Pace University, and his colleagues set out to examine the stress responses of over 7000 United States service members, pre- and post-deployment to Iraq and Afghanistan. The verdict? “Fewer than 7 percent showed signs of PTSD following deployment”, and “among those with multiple deployments . . . only 4 to 5 percent” suffered from PTSD.
I don’t buy it. Those numbers are way too low.
While we must wait for the full study to be published before drawing firm conclusions, Mancini’s contention that “the prevalence of PTSD among veterans” is “substantially lower than is commonly believed” should be a cause for concern.
I want to see how the researchers set up the study, look at the guidelines and approach they used, and examine how they interpreted their data. Researchers always go into a study with a goal, something they hope to prove, and possibly even additional agendas they are not fully conscious of. These agendas can color the findings they report. The study results quoted in Mancini’s piece on the low prevalence of PTSD among returning service members are so counter to what I’ve seen in my work that I suspect some bias crept in.
Mancini states that “many assume that humans are inherently vulnerable to trauma”, but that “a growing body of scientific research is telling another story”. Only the first part of that statement is true. Our nature as human beings, our biology and psychology, program us to respond to traumatic events in patterns that ensure our survival. Almost everyone has heard of the “fight, flight, or freeze” responses, arising from our sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. These responses to danger make it possible for us to survive and then learn from threatening experiences.
Trauma, short-lived or lasting, arises when we fail to complete our natural trauma response. Because we can bury and refuse to deal with the painful and overwhelming events of our lives, the intense emotions aroused by trauma (leading to that fight-flight-freeze) may never be released. This happens all the time. We can go back and resolve past trauma, but we are always “inherently vulnerable” to it, and our vulnerability to trauma increases the more we bury our previous “invisible wounds”.
The authors of the British Journal of Psychiatry study defend their results by characterizing their respondents as “not seeking treatment” and “representative of the military as a whole”. They add that “[the participants’] reports were confidential and had no bearing on their military careers”.
I want to make a couple of points here. First, and most importantly, why didn’t the study include service members who were seeking treatment? How could the researchers’ study be “representative” without them?
Secondly, confidentiality is certainly an essential factor in getting accurate disclosure, but did the researchers take into account the lingering mindset of stigma within the ranks attached to a diagnosis of PTSD? Most service branches have campaigns in place to de-stigmatize the invisible wounds of combat, but that message hasn’t yet been fully embraced by the military culture as a whole.
Mancini reports that “about 83 percent of respondents showed a pattern of resilience: they exhibited a normal-range ability to cope with stress both before and after deployment”. What I want to know is, how did the study’s researchers define “normal-range ability”? I have first-hand experience with government agencies who work with veterans, and I can absolutely state that their baseline definitions of good coping function are set appallingly low. Their “good enough” is far from what I consider healthy, as a professional in the psychotherapy field for over 40 years. I believe the average person would agree with me, and wouldn’t want to see the men and women who have served our country limited to life on such unsatisfactory and unfulfilling terms.
I am particularly suspicious – convinced, even – that the study’s parameters or methods were flawed due to their finding that service member resilience went up with multiple deployments. This is absolutely counter to everything I’ve witnessed in my work and what many other professionals in my field have seen as well.
I also “do not want to stigmatize those with the disorder” of PTSD, as Mancini cautions. But I also don’t want to minimize or mislead the military or the public about the true dimensions of what I and many of my colleagues believe will be a hidden epidemic. I give Mancini credit for stressing that “even an estimate of 1 in 10 represents a public health issue of the first magnitude, requiring our full attention and resources”. How much more, then, will be required if the real prevalence of PTSD is closer to 30 percent, which is my opinion?
Mancini closes his piece with a truly alarming statement. He starts well by saying that “PTSD is a treatable condition and a realistic and informed understanding of our inherent coping abilities can only assist treatment”. But he goes on to propose that “perhaps one day, even prevention of this debilitating disorder” will be possible. That Mancini could make such a proposal betrays a profound misunderstanding of the nature of human beings and our innate, invaluable trauma response.
To prevent PTSD we would have to rid the world of cruelty, abuse, violence, and evil. Or we would have to develop into one of two kinds of people: impervious automatons, able to turn off our feelings at will; or psychological super-humans, able to easily experience and quickly and completely resolve every shock, crisis, and horror, from the cradle to the grave.
My take on this? Won’t happen anytime soon.