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and suppression of the sexual deviant are examined in Chapter 1. The narrative of the ways in which homosexuals and transvestites have been regarded and treated by British society are explored and the introduction of aversion therapies for sexual deviance considered. The mixed and muddled messages nurses were receiving about these individuals are also discussed. During the 1930s–1950s, mental health care witnessed a spirit of ‘therapeutic optimism’ as new somatic treatments and therapies 27 ‘Curing queers’ were introduced in mental hospitals. Chapter 2 examines
requires the woman to navigate risks; both for herself and for the child she is gestating. Many women acting as surrogates lack follow-up physical and mental health care after delivery. This increases their health risks and bodily vulnerability (Khader, 2013 ). Together with the lack of informed consent, the ignoring of medical rights, the lack of information provided to the surrogates and the requirement to comply with any requests for foetal reduction, this illustrates how the surrogacy process reduced the women to their reproductive capacity and womb, rendering
bitterly fought against dilution schemes throughout the period under discussion. The early years of the NHS were marked by contentious debates about the necessary skill mix on the wards as assistant or enrolled nurses were introduced into mental health care. In 1943 the Nurses’ Act had provided a legislative framework that legitimated ‘a lower stratum of nursing labour, that would then free the student nurse to pursue an educationally orientated form of training’.60 Then, building on the recommendations of the Athlone Report (1945), experienced nursing orderlies and
leaders. If they expected a bland ministerial delivery of the sort that was written for ministers by civil servants, they were in for a shock. Powell was concerned by the amount of beds taken up by mental health care and had been influenced by the mental hospitals that he had visited.18 He delivered a rallying call for the closure of the mental hospitals and their replacement by care in the community for those needing services: Now look and see what are the implications of these bold words. They imply nothing less than the elimination of by far the greater part of this
preventive intervention especially in families and schools, repeating the familiar argument that earlier is almost always better, and early intervention services are key. ‘Close treatment gaps’ by providing mental health care provisions locally in every community and thus improving access and impact, although a lot of the specific actions concern homelessness and opioid addiction. ‘Partner with communities’, embracing the wisdom and strength of local communities, to create effective and culturally competent solutions, which seems to amount to trying to create
health care costs – little attention has been given to pain in economic theory and practice.2 Cultural histories of pain analyse the phenomenon in the context and terms of science, religion, politics, law, language, literature, arts, etc., but they seem to have little interest in the way pain might have functioned in the realm of commerce and trade, nor how economic discourses might have informed discourses on pain.3 This chapter will explore the role pain played in stock trade discourses in the early modern Dutch Republic. Did stock trade always hurt as much as it did
feared – the abandonment of moral treatment, a purely clinical approach to patients, huge custodial hospitals, and a sharply class-differentiated system of mental health care – all came to pass in the late nineteenth century. What might be styled a ‘cult of pessimism’ thoroughly supplanted the old cult of curability.26 The eclipse of moral therapy In the last two decades of the nineteenth century, the era of moral therapy ended in America. This happened as the spirit of the Kirkbride-style hospital was replaced by the custodial ethos of asylum bureaucracies, depriving
(Bethlehem: Lehigh University Press, 2006), pp. 108–29; Steven Cherry, Mental Health Care in Modern England: The Norfolk Lunatic Asylum/St. Andrew’s Hospital c. 1810–1998 (Suffolk: Boydell Press, 2003), pp. 53–82; Ellen Dwyer, Homes for the Mad: Life Inside Two Nineteenth-Century Asylums (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1987); Nancy Tomes, A Generous Confidence: Thomas Story Kirkbride and the Art of Asylum-Keeping, 1840–1883 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), pp. 188–263, passim; James Moran, Committed to the State Lunatic Asylum: Insanity and
Manning, The Therapeutic Community Movement: Charisma and Routinisation (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1989). 34 Vicky Long, ‘Rethinking post-war mental health care: Industrial therapy and the chronic mental patient in Britain’, Social History of Medicine, 26:4 (2013), 738–58. 35 Maxwell Jones, ‘Industrial therapy of patients still in hospital’, Lancet, 2 (1956), 985. 36 Diane Waller, Becoming a Profession: History of Art Therapy in Britain, 1940–82 (London: Tavistock, 1991). 37 Nancy Wansbrough and Agnes Miles, Industrial Therapy in Psychiatric Hospitals (London
illustrated above (often mobile) technologies, platforms, software and applications in particular have been transformed into essential agents in the maintenance and implementation of mental health care. COVID-19 has enacted the agency of mundane, everyday objects in remarkable ways ( Sikka, 2021 ) and this also is evident in teletherapies. However, the increased reliance on