Psychological Warfare

It is too early to tell whether a physician’s report giving Gov. Michael S. Dukakis a clean bill of health will dispel the persistent rumors that he sought psychiatric treatment. Undoubtedly there is someone somewhere still investigating Dukakis’ mental health. But, amid all the rumors and the innuendoes and the planted stories, the only question really worth raising is: Should a politician who sought psychiatric care be considered unfit for high office? The answer, we submit, is no, that there should be no more stigma attached to seeing a doctor about depression than about shin splints or hernias or cancer.

The followers of Lyndon H. LaRouche Jr. who first circulated the rumors about Dukakis seem to have been operating on the assumption, shared by many journalists and politicians, that the American electorate has a phobia about psychiatry. Would an aide to Vice President George Bush have touted the rumors to a Times reporter unless he assumed that it would hurt Dukakis’ candidacy? And would Dukakis’ aides have counseled their man to produce his doctor at a press conference unless they shared that fear?

We have no idea whether American voters are any more willing to accept a politician with a history of psychiatric illness than they were in 1972, when Sen. Thomas F. Eagleton (D-Mo.) abandoned his vice presidential bid once his electric-shock treatment for depression was belatedly disclosed to Sen. George S. McGovern (D-S.D.), his running mate. The public-opinion polls are unclear, and no serious political candidate wants to be the guinea pig in gauging current attitudes toward psychiatry. Undoubtedly some voters still believe that admitting to emotional problems or seeking therapy is a sign of weakness. President Reagan seemed to be playing on such old prejudices when he made his ugly remark, almost immediately retracted, that Dukakis was an “invalid.”

It is encouraging, however, to note that Americans seem more willing than ever to seek counseling for their own problems. The National Institute of Mental Health reports that 15.5 million Americans were treated by professional therapists last year, and it estimates that millions more sought advice from other sources--including priests, ministers and rabbis. Phobias are the No. 1 psychiatric complaint, closely followed by depression. So common is clinical depression--a serious illness, not just a bout of the blues--that the American Psychological Assn. estimates that 25% of American women and 12% of American men will suffer from it at some point in their lives.

Americans are such confirmed addicts of self-improvement that when someone turns to a professional for help, whether it is to stop smoking or to lose weight, the tendency is to cheer him on, to applaud his initiative as a sign of maturity and resolve. That should be the response, we think, when someone, in politics or not, acknowledges his emotional problems and sees a counselor.

Mental illness, after all, is hardly unknown in politics. Both Winston Churchill and Abraham Lincoln suffered from episodes of depression, and President Andrew Jackson, after the death of his wife, grieved so deeply that friends and associates worried about his health. That such distinguished leaders were able to carry their heavy burdens and cope simultaneously with emotional ills is the best evidence that such illnesses should not disqualify anyone for high office.

Where psychiatry is concerned, the issue should not be whether someone once received treatment or not, but whether he or she is currently fit to hold office. As with physical maladies like cancer (which President Reagan weathered) or heart disease (which Presidents Dwight D. Eisenhower and Lyndon B. Johnson experienced), voters may want to know how severe the illness was and whether the candidate has recovered; those are legitimate concerns. But they might also keep in mind that therapists say that those who have undergone treatment are often healthier psychologically than those who haven’t.