The BBC’s recent piece quoting a GP that “Life being stressful is not an illness” may sound like common sense. But like a lot of statements trumpeted as “common sense,” it’s an over-generalisation that lacks any empirical basis and is profoundly damaging.
By framing mental distress as mere “stress,” it risks implying that severe mental reactions to life events are somehow not medically valid or responsive to treatment. That simply isn’t true. Evidence-based guidelines recognise and advise treatment for conditions precipitated or intensified by adversity. These may include post‑traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), major depressive episodes, and anxiety disorders among them. NICE explicitly recommends trauma‑focused psychological therapies for post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and matched‑care approaches for depression, underscoring that symptoms can be reduced and functioning restored when people get timely, appropriate help.
The harm caused by the attitudes used in the headline and described in the article isn’t only theoretical. When this attitude leaks into practice, people who could benefit from care are pushed away because their distress is linked to bereavement, violence, job loss, financial strain, or wider social pressures.
The APMS – England’s gold‑standard Adult Psychiatric Morbidity Survey – does not rely on NHS recorded diagnoses; it assesses symptoms directly in the household population through interviews and clinical assessments. Its latest findings show a clear rise in poor mental health: the proportion of 16–64‑year‑olds screening positive for a common mental health condition has increased to 22.6%, up from 18.9% in 2014 and 17.6% in 2007. Young adults are particularly affected, with one in four now meeting criteria for diagnosis. This data captures untreated as well as treated need, so cannot be dismissed as “diagnostic inflation.”
The idea that we are ‘over-diagnosing’ or ‘over-treating’ mental health problems isn’t backed by the data. The APMS reports that one in seven adults with severe mental health symptoms reported requesting a treatment in the past year which they did not receive. A quarter of those with symptoms and an unmet treatment request were receiving no other form of mental health medication or therapy.
Locally, our own mental health needs assessment in Worcestershire echoes the national picture: residents report sustained declines in wellbeing linked to isolation, economic pressures, and disrupted access to support during and after the pandemic. Those lived experiences matter; they align with clinical presentations and should drive service planning rather than be waved away as “ordinary stress.” Indeed, our suicide prevention team regularly review cases in which the preceding mental distress relates to life events or circumstances.
The BBC article itself is based on a BBC News questionnaire completed by 752 GPs and includes the headline remark, “Life being stressful is not an illness.” Whatever the intention, the effect of such messaging is to conflate normal hassle with disabling distress – and, worse, to nudge clinicians and commissioners towards minimising need rather than meeting it. That is a risky narrative at a time when many GPs simultaneously report deep frustration about how hard it is to secure talking therapies or specialist support for patients.
Of course, it’s true that society must avoid medicalising every bump in the road. But the current rise in symptom burden and impairment (the overall weight of symptoms and degree of physical and psychological distress they cause) can’t be solved by arguing we’re simply “over‑diagnosing.” Label scepticism doesn’t make suicidal ideation, panic attacks, dissociation, or profound anergia vanish; it makes people feel unseen.
Nor will this rhetoric help our economy. When serious distress is dismissed, people stay ill longer, relationships strain, productivity falls, and the costs of crisis care and lost participation mount.
In short: the symptoms reported in the APMS are real and disabling, whatever their cause. Pretending the rise is merely “over‑diagnosis” won’t make the problem go away; it will entrench it. The smarter strategy is two‑pronged: invest in prevention that tackles social determinants and ensure equitable access to NICE‑recommended care so people recover earlier and more fully.
So, let’s drop the minimising headlines and build services, and a public conversation, that match the evidence and the lived reality. There’s no point in saying we can’t afford to do it when we clearly can’t afford not to.
Lisa McNally is Director of Public Health for Worcestershire County Council and Honorary Professor at University of Birmingham.
