My expectation of the cast of Ted Lasso obviously wasn’t that they’d come to D.C. and, in the span of the day, deliver a mental health omnibus bill. And, to be clear, I’m deeply hopeful about a lot of the progress we’ve seen just in the last decade toward destigmatizing mental health struggles and opening up the cultural conversation around the issue. But now, I have to wonder whether we’ll ever move past this surface-level “awareness stage,” past celebrities and influencers—from Ariana Grande to your favorite podcasters—partnering with BetterHelp, launching their own apps, visiting the White House amid their TV show’s new season. Slapping the face of a popular celebrity or brand onto highly political issues is one way to get people talking, but then what?

Advertisement

With the arrival of the Ted Lasso cast at the White House, I feel like we’re trapped in an endless loop. Our conversations about mental health feel siloed into a wholly commercialized context, one that feeds the profitable pipeline of controversial therapy apps instead of addressing the policy-based conditions that are creating mental health struggles and mass suffering, in the first place. I don’t think I need to hear any more from Prince Harry—a literal price—on how much he recommends therapy. In fact, the last people who should be lecturing us about taking care of each other are the exorbitantly rich and powerful, who benefit from the very systems of inequality that are making the rest of us miserable.

Advertisement

Look—living under a government system so resistant to change, I get that we may never move beyond the “having a conversation” stage around mental health and reach actual policy change. I hate it, but I get it. Still, if your “mental health awareness” campaign doesn’t acknowledge that universal health care, living wages, affordable housing, sustainable environmental conditions, and fundamental human rights are part-and-parcel with supporting mental health, then I don’t want it.