July 2010 Archives
Previously, I have been quite critical of the DSM-5 suggestion to introduce a new diagnosis, Minor Neurocognitive Disorder, on the grounds that it would create a large false-positive problem and would lead to unnecessary worry and cost with no useful intervention. Even more ambitious and dangerous are the recently suggested diagnostic guidelines for Alzheimer's created by a panel jointly sponsored by the National Institute on Aging and the Alzheimer's Association. The proposal is a clear case of narrowly focused experts getting far ahead of the available technology to suggest what will be an enormously costly public health experiment with dire unintended consequences.
The goal of the proposed guidelines is laudable: to identify those at risk for Alzheimer's even before they have developed clinical symptoms and to intervene preventitively before the damage is done. The suggested guidelines would divide Alzheimer's into three groups of ascending severity and clarity of presentation: 1) preclinical (i.e. no symptoms, but positive laboratory findings); 2) mild impairment; and 3) classic dementia. The guidelines would recommend laboratory studies to make the diagnosis in the first two groups, neither of which is currently considered an official diagnosis.
If we had well established diagnostic tools to identify preclinical and mild presentations, the guidelines would make great sense. Unfortunately, however, we do not yet have proven tests, and guidelines that pretend we do are premature and reckless. Laboratory studies for Alzheimer's are of recent vintage, are tested only in small selected samples, will probably have huge false-positive rates in the general population, are expensive, and carry medical risks. None is near ready to be used in routine clinical practice, particularly in the general population.
To make matters worse (and the suggested guidelines even more ridiculous), there is no effective treatment for Alzheimer's in any of its stages. So, finding out that you are (only possibly) at risk for developing Alzheimer's would provide little or no benefit -- but would create needless worry, testing, treatment, expense, risk, and insurance and disability issues. The attempt to provide early identification with fallible tests and no effective treatment serves no useful purpose and can cause great harm not only to individuals, but also to public health policy. Scarce health dollars should not be wasted on what would amount to a frivolous public health experiment. First, let's do the research necessary to prove the tests are sufficiently specific and to find medications that work.
How could such a bad idea be forwarded by renowned experts sponsored by august organizations. I have in earlier pieces written on the tunnel vision of experts in any given area and their natural enthusiasm for pushing the boundaries of their disorder of interest. No doubt the premature emergence of these guidelines results from the great frustration we all feel at the slow pace of development of diagnostic and treatment tools for Alzheimer's. Most of us expected there to be a well established laboratory test by now and drug discovery has also been disappointingly slow. My guess is that the guideline makers hope to jumpstart the field by highlighting the potential of early identification. But this is definitely putting the cart before horse. Guidelines that will have great influence on how people live their lives and how the country will spend limited healthcare dollars must follow well established science and an inclusive public policy debate, not lead it.
I am convinced from my experience with experts that they act from naïve good faith and that they think expanding their field of interest will be good for patients. They tend to be blind to false-positive problems and societal costs because they are not trained to think in these terms, not because of conflicts of interest. But such naïve goodwill does not motivate the corporations that market drugs and diagnostic tests. There will be an explosion of testing and treatment if these guidlines are approved, much or all of it unnecessary and expensive, some of it downright harmful. The medical/industrial complex will have a field day.
The suggested guidelines for Alzheimer's are not yet official, so there is still hope. Given the great impact they will have on public health policy, they should not become official until there is a wide public policy debate with input and monitoring that reaches beyond the narrow group of experts in the field. Decisions on Alzheimer's are too important to patients, and public policy decisions should be made exclusively by experts on Alzheimer's.
Every month or so, someone (usually very smart and passionate) sends me a detailed proposal for a new diagnostic system offered as an alternative to the jumbled, pedestrian, atheoretical, and purely descriptive method used in DSM. The new system is invariably theory driven, clever, neat, and plausible. Surely, it is quite easy to be more coherent than a DSM that consists of a jumble of disorders gathered together largely through a historical accreting process based mostly on clinical observation and descriptive research -- without an underlying theory or deep knowledge of causality.
The new systems come in three types: 1) Brain biology: these used to be based on correlates with neurotransmitters, but recently neural networks of various kinds are much more popular; 2) Psychological dimensions: hundreds of scales have been developed and carefully tested; and 3) Systems based on psychodynamic, ethological, and developmental models -- less popular now than they once were.
Unfortunately, none of these approaches, however elegant, is remotely ready for inclusion in the official system of psychiatric nomenclature. DSM must by its very nature be a conservative document that follows and never leads the field. The problem with all of the suggestions to replace the admitted DSM jumble is that there are so many contenders, none of which has been proven or has attained wide acceptance from the field. It is also not possible to choose one from among so many plausible, but necessarily parochial systems, when most clinicians have absolutely no interest in any of them and the proponents of rival systems can make about equally valid claims for their respective pet methods.
The DSM-IV experience with the personality disorders was a rude and disheartening awakening. I very much hoped to include at least an optional dimensional personality rating scale. We were able to gather together in one room the proponents of all the competing dimensional systems to attempt the selection of one or some compromise among them. It didn't work; we could not forge a consensus because each participant remained wedded to his own scale (however minimally different it was from its near neighbors). Without wide agreement, it is impossible to force a field to accept changes that represent one necessarily narrowly defined perspective. The DSM-5 effort to include personality dimensions will also undoubtedly fail -- for this reason as well as for its unbelievably byzantine complexity.
I feel sure that our clumsy descriptive classification may not be the only, or even the optimal way, to sort things for future research. But I feel equally certain that DSM remains necessary to carry forth the current, everyday, practical clinical and administrative work that are its first priority. Once we have attained a widely accepted, etiological understanding of at least some forms of psychopathology, the new insights will gradually replace our clumsy, but nonetheless now still useful system.
At this stage in this arena, the wisdom of the philosopher Vico trumps the much greater and better-known Descartes. Descartes sought to use what we now call Cartesian rationality and mathematical order to sort what were previously seemingly disorderly phenomena. This turned out to be a screaming success in the mathematical, physical and chemical worlds, but has (as Vico predicted) much less purchase in understanding the sloppy complicatedness of human affairs, including psychiatric diagnosis.
The recently posted first draft of DSM-5 has suggested a whole new category of mental disorders called the "Behavioral Addictions." The category would begin life in DSM-5 nested alongside the substance addictions and it would start with just one disorder (gambling). None of the other "behavioral addictions" suggested for DSM-5 would gain official status as a stand-alone diagnosis. But if a clinician felt that the patient were "addicted" to sex, or to shopping, or to the Internet, or to working, or to video games, or to credit card spending, or to surfing, or to suntanning, or (my own personal favorite) to blogging on blackberries, to whatever else (the list is long and could easily expand into every area of popular activity), it could be diagnosed as "Behavioral Addiction Not Otherwise Specified" and thus receive the dignity of an official DSM code.
The rationale for this category is that compulsive behaviors follow the same clinical pattern and may even derive from the same neural network as compulsive substance use. The criteria set for pathological gambling developed for DSM-IV was modeled in close imitation to the criteria for substance dependence. Similarly, the DSM-5 draft criteria set for "hypersexuality" also uses the same items as define substance dependence and would seem to fit nicely as a "behavioral addiction" -- although for some reason it has been proposed instead for the section on sexual disorders (one placement or the other, this is a bad idea for reasons detailed in a previous blog).
The notion that underlies the "addiction" concept is that the substance use (or behavior) originally intended for pleasurable recreation is now compulsively driven. Although the act is no longer the source of much pleasure, it has become so deeply ingrained that the person continues to perform it in a repetitive fashion despite great and mounting negative consequences.
The evidence supporting the idea that someone is "addicted" would consist of the continuation (or even increase) of seemingly autonomous and driven behaviors despite the ever-diminishing gain and the ever-increasing cost. Subjectively, the person feels an escalating loss of control over the act and instead comes to feel increasingly controlled by it.
The rationale for a "behavioral addictions" category is that the subjective experience, clinical presentation, neurobiological substrate, and treatment indications for it are equivalent to those for substance addiction. But the proposal has one fundamental problem and an assortment of negative unintended consequences that should be more than sufficient to disqualify it from further consideration.
The fundamental problem is that repetitive (even if costly) pleasure-seeking is a ubiquitous part of human nature, while compulsive behavior that is not rewarding is relatively rare. But on the surface it is extremely difficult to tell the two apart. The "behavioral addictions" would quickly expand from their narrowly intended, (perhaps) appropriate usage to become a popular and much misused label for anything that people do for fun but causes them trouble. Potentially, millions of new "patients" would be created by fiat, medicalizing all manner of impulsive, pleasure-seeking behaviors and giving people a "sick role" excuse for impulsive irresponsibility.
We, all of us, do short-term pleasurable things that can be quite foolish in the long run. It is the nature of the beast. The evolution of our brains was strongly influenced by the fact that, until recently, most people did not get to live very long. Our hard brain wiring was built for short-term survival and propagating DNA, not for the longer term planning that would be desirable now that we have much lengthened lifespans. Salience was given to the short-term pleasure centers that encouraged us to do things that give an immediate reward. This is why it is so difficult for people to control impulses toward food and sex, especially when the modern world provides such tempting opportunities.
Thus our massive collective societal weight gain comes from an enduring sense of facing famine that makes it hard to say no to the attractions offered by refrigerators and supermarkets. Pleasure at the mall satisfies survival motivations based on gathering and nesting, and so on (I will leave sex to your own individual imaginations). This type of hard wiring was clearly a winner in the evolutionary struggle when life was "nasty, brutish, and short." But it gets us into constant trouble in a world where pleasure temptations, whose long-term negative consequences should count for more than our brains are wired to appreciate, are everywhere. The late-blooming insight of the new discipline of behavioral economics is that we are not rational animals (they would figure this out sooner had they read Darwin or Freud). We all make bad short-term decisions because it is hard to resist the immediate fun at the time. Then we suffer the long-term consequences.
In a better world, our forebrains would do a more efficient job controlling impulses and long-term planning and would anticipate and/or avoid those pleasures not worth the price. But we live in this world and exist within an inherently imperfect human condition -- the stuff of tragedy, comedy, and melodrama. In a statistical sense, it is completely "normal" for people to repeat doing fun things that are dumb and cause them trouble. This is who we are. It is not mental disorder or "addiction," however loosely these much-freighted terms are used.
Instead "addiction" would imply that there has been an override of our average expectable impulsive pleasure system. The individual performs the behavior over and over and over and over again despite a lack of reward -- much negative reinforcement -- in a way that does not have (and never could have had) any survival value.
In a previous blog on the sexual disorders, I discussed the difference between the commonplace fun-loving philanderer and the rare, tortured "sexual addict." The philanderer enjoys his sexual activity so much that he keeps doing it despite the external trouble he gets into or any internal moral qualms he may have. The immediate pleasure it brings has more salience than the eventual pain. This would be in sharp contrast to that rare person who compulsively repeats the sexual act without experiencing much or any pleasure, even in the face of great risks or punishments.
The parallel would apply to all of the possible "behavioral addictions." If a person shops till she drops because it is fun, it should not be called "addiction" no matter how much trouble it causes. People who prefer the Internet or video games to other life pleasures are not addicted so long as the activity remains pleasurable.
NIMH vs. DSM 5: No One Wins, Patients Lose