This book is well-organized and its points are well-argued, and as a geneaology of mental health practices, it is useful. However, its ideological angle is still evident, despite what seems to be an attempt at neutral language in many instances. While the utility of discrete disease entities in editions of the DSM for financial and political purposes is clearly demonstrated in Horwitz's arguments, the other side of the argument is missing. Horwitz argues, for example, that reimbursement for psychiatric services and medications by insurance companies was an important factor in the delineation of a panoply of mental disturbances as distinct disease entities. I have no quarrel with this assertion. However, the need of patients to use insurance to cover treatment they wouldn't otherwise be able to afford for problems that have simply not reached a particular research threshold to qualify as biological diseases with proven biological causes, but which cause the patients themselves considerable suffering, isn't discussed.
Similarly, the formulation of the DSMs to encompass any mental disturbances already being treated in the field, allowing their use by various potentially competing schools of psychiatric theory and practice, is presented primarily as an unscientific unwillingness to cause mental health professionals to lose clients. Again, the argument misses a different perspective. WOULD these mental health professionals lose clients as a result of a DSM becoming more exclusive? Or would their practice simply become less standardized? In other words, if ADHD, for example, were removed from the DSM, some practitioners would continue to treat it; others would diagnose the symptoms as something else; and still others would be freed to stop treating sufferers of ADHD, validated in their disbelief that ADHD is "real," and ADHD symptoms, lacking a medical definition, would fall back into the quasi-religious realm of moral failings, or lack of self-discipline. The standardization of the broad array of conditions helps to protect patients, as well as practitioners, which Horwitz fails to account for. I'm happy to accept that the more cynical angle is the primary driver; but I think it's important to discuss the other aspects as well.
Finally, Horwitz argues that "mental disorders arise when psychological systems of motivation, memory, cognition, arousal, attachment, and the like are not able adequately to carry out the functions they are designed to perform. These functions are not social constructions but properties of the human species that have arisen through natural selection" (12), but fails to recognize that even conceptions of how human bodies are designed to perform is culturally designated. By this criterion, homosexuality, along with asexuality, pansexuality, bisexuality, and all other non-strictly-heterosexual desires, could legitimately be considered mental disorders, since sexual arousal is still considered in most cultures to primarily facilitate reproduction. Arousal in a situation that could not result in reproduction, or lack of arousal in a situation that otherwise could, would be classified as mental un-health in a social context (most of them) in which reproduction is considered to be the primary, if not sole, purpose of sexual desire and arousal. Conversely, acute stress disorder might NOT be considered a mental disorder in people in active conflict zones or abusive domestic situations, despite its adverse and deleterious physiological effect, because it is not caused by psychological malfunctions, but is actually the brain responding appropriately to extreme stimuli.
Many of these discrepancies arise from the fact that there is still comparatively so much to be learned about human brains. What is the distinction between "biological" causes of a disorder and "life events" as a cause? The distinction, in my view, arises from a belief in "rationality" that is independent of actual neurological processes. If genes and life experiences both physically impact a human brain, then what is the distinction between a "biological" disorder and one that results from life events? The distinction seems to be a moral one, which attempts to distinguish between a "legitimate" disorder and....whininess? Overall, the book seems to be overly focused on the perspective of professionals, while ignoring the needs of sufferers themselves. (I know that's not the best way to refer to people, I just don't have an easier term, I'm sorry.) If depression is causing significant disturbance in a person's life, for example, does it matter if they inherited it at birth, or if it's because of a breakup? While exploitation by mental health practitioners of their suffering patients is certainly something to be vigilant about, sufferers have a right to try to feel better. Why is it the right of someone else to say, "Sorry, lots of people feel upset when they get divorced, this isn't the kind of thing you need professional help with"? An overhaul of our understanding of mental health/unhealth, I think, is crucial, moving our society toward a more holistic approach to treatment (therapy, diet, life coaching, and, yes, pharmaceuticals, all as components that may or may not be useful in a given situation), as well as an understanding that individuals should be the authority on what they themselves are feeling and what is causing them problems in their own lives.