The March 25, 2026 jury verdict in Los Angeles against Meta and Google, paired with the $375 million New Mexico verdict against the same companies the day before, mark a structural shift in how courts conceptualize harm arising from social media platforms. These cases do not merely expand liability. They reframe the legal ontology of digital platforms from neutral intermediaries into potentially defective consumer products.

In this article, we will explore what this means for the way in which we look upon eating disorders … and what therapists and clinicians should know.

For eating disorders, conditions already deeply entangled with algorithmic amplification, body image distortion, and compulsive engagement, the shift in liability for digital platforms is particularly consequential. The emerging litigation theory may provide for the first time a coherent legal pathway to attribute causation and duty in eating disorder related harm.

The recent Meta/Google verdicts succeeded because plaintiffs changed the theory of liability. The old framing was, “You allowed harmful content to exist.” Federal statutes provided immunity for this reasoning. Case dismissed.

The new framing is now, “You designed a system that predictably causes harm.” This is the doctrinal pivot. The plaintiffs were able to bring forth evidence that the platforms knew about harm (e.g., to teens, body image, ED risk) but continued optimizing engagement anyway. This evidence supports claims of negligence, recklessness and malice. This also strengthens the argument that the wrongdoing lies in corporate decision making not user content.

Why This Matters Specifically for Eating Disorders

Eating disorder harm fits the “Design, Not Content” model argued in courtrooms. Eating disorders are not typically triggered by a single post. But by repeated exposure, escalating comparison and behavioral reinforcement. These are clearly algorithmic phenomena.

Unlike traditional media, social media platforms can identify users engaging with dieting and body comparison content. This increases the likelihood of exposure. This frames a plaintiff’s argument that harm is not incidental. It is systematically intensified. There is also substantial evidence that social comparison leads to body dissatisfaction and repeated exposure leads to disordered eating behaviors

This makes it easier to argue that harm was predictable, foreseeable and safer alternatives were available but disregarded.

The recent verdicts are also significant not because they establish a medical causation of eating disorders, but because they elevate platform design and algorithmic exposure into the realm of foreseeable mental health risk.

In effect, the verdicts reinforce three propositions that are directly relevant to clinical practice:

  1. Digital environments can function as risk-amplifying exposures, particularly for adolescents;
  2. Algorithmic curation is not neutral, but can intensify engagement with appearance focused or psychologically harmful content; and
  3. Harm need not arise solely from user intent but may be driven by product design features.

From a standard-of-care perspective, these propositions are likely to influence what constitutes “reasonable” clinical conduct.

Even in the absence of formalized guidelines, foreseeability plays a central role in negligence analysis. As juries begin to recognize social media design as a source of mental health harm, clinicians may be expected to:

  • Screen for social media use with greater specificity (not merely duration, but type of content and engagement patterns);
  • Identify platform-related triggers (e.g., comparison behaviors, exposure to body-ideal content, reinforcement loops);
  • Incorporate digital environment management into treatment planning; and
  • Provide anticipatory guidance to patients and families regarding online risk factors.

Failure to do so over time may be framed as a deviation from evolving professional norms even in the absence of codified standards.

Evolution of Standard of Care Through Litigation Rather Than Consensus

In fields lacking clear clinical standards, the standard of care often evolves through case law, expert testimony, and institutional practice patterns.

The Meta and Google verdicts may accelerate this process by:

  • Providing a judicially recognized framework for linking platform design to mental health harm;
  • Encouraging plaintiffs to incorporate digital exposure into causation narratives; and
  • Pressuring professional organizations to issue more explicit guidance in response.

In this sense, the verdicts may function as de facto catalysts for standard formation even if formal consensus lags behind.

Clinicians and treatment programs that proactively integrate digital-risk assessment may therefore position themselves more favorably relative to an emerging baseline of care.

Implications for Causation Frameworks in Eating Disorders

Historically, eating disorders have been understood through a multifactorial model, incorporating genetic predisposition, temperamental traits, family dynamics, trauma and sociocultural influences. The recent verdicts do not displace this model. However, they may recalibrate the weight assigned to environmental and systemic contributors, particularly those mediated through technology. Importantly, this shift may influence not only clinical practice, but also the narrative frameworks used in litigation and public discourse.

Anticipated Expansion of Social Justice and Structural Etiology Arguments

One of the more complex implications of these developments is the possible expansion of social justice based etiological frameworks, including arguments that locate eating disorders within broader systems of oppression.

Within certain academic and advocacy contexts, eating disorders have increasingly been linked to:

  • Eurocentric beauty standards,
  • Fatphobia,
  • Structural inequities in healthcare access, and
  • Cultural norms associated with what has been termed “White supremacy culture” (e.g., perfectionism, control, individualism).

The Meta and Google verdicts may indirectly reinforce these perspectives in several ways:

1. Externalization of Harm

By attributing liability to platform design rather than solely to individual behavior, the verdicts support a broader shift toward externalizing causation. This aligns with social justice frameworks that emphasize systemic over individual factors.

2. Validation of Environmental Influence

The recognition of algorithmic amplification as harmful lends credibility to arguments that cultural and media environments actively shape pathology, rather than merely reflecting it.

3. Expansion of Duty Beyond the Individual

If platforms can be held liable for contributing to mental health harm, analogous arguments may be advanced that cultural systems, institutional practices, and dominant norms also bear some responsibility for shaping risk.

As a result, Plaintiffs may increasingly incorporate cultural and systemic critiques, expert testimony on media ecology and sociocultural pressure, and arguments linking platform content to broader ideological frameworks as part of causation narratives.

Tension Between Clinical Rigor and Expanding Etiological Narratives

While these developments may broaden the scope of inquiry, they also introduce tension. From a clinical and evidentiary standpoint multifactorial models require specificity and measurable variables and overly diffuse causation theories risk diluting analytical precision.

From a legal standpoint courts require evidence that is not only plausible, but attributable and proximate. Expansive social frameworks (e.g., “White supremacy culture”) may be more difficult to operationalize in a manner that satisfies evidentiary standards. Accordingly, while social justice perspectives may gain rhetorical and academic traction, their translation into clinical standards or legal causation will likely depend on the development of measurable constructs, empirical validation, and clear linkage to individual harm.

Increased Eating Disorder Liability

For eating disorder related claims, liability may no longer depend on identifying specific harmful posts.  Instead, plaintiffs can target recommendation algorithms, engagement loops (likes, scroll, autoplay) and behavioral reinforcement systems. This aligns directly with how eating disorder pathology operates; repetition, reinforcement, and escalation, not isolated exposure.

Historically, eating disorder related litigation struggled with causation; eating disorders are multifactorial (genetics, trauma, culture) and Courts viewed platform influence as too attenuated.

The recent verdicts suggest juries are now willing to accept alternatives. The Los Angeles case framed harm through addiction mechanics; compulsive use, reinforcement loops and diminished control. This maps closely onto eating disorder pathology; compulsive restriction, bingeing, or purging, reinforcement through comparison and validation and escalating behavioral cycles.

Unlike traditional media, social media platforms learn user vulnerabilities and optimize content delivery accordingly. For eating disorder claims, this enables arguments that platforms did not merely expose users to harmful content. They systematically increased exposure based on detected susceptibility.

This is a qualitatively different form of causation, not passive distribution, but active behavioral shaping.

Among potential harm categories, EDs are uniquely positioned for litigation success due to a high predictability of harm. There is extensive internal and external research linking social comparison to body dissatisfaction to disordered eating. We now know that social media platforms can track repeated viewing of weight loss content, thinspiration and calorie restriction narratives. This creates a potential evidentiary record of foreseeable harm combined with continued amplification.

Courts are especially receptive to harms affecting minors and failure to implement protective measures. Eating disorder onset often occurs during adolescence, aligning directly with peak social media usage and peak psychological vulnerability.

Long-Term Structural Changes

As a result of these cases, we may see an emergence of “Digital Duty of Care” particularly for minors. Social media platforms may be held to standards similar to product safety law and pharmaceutical risk disclosure.  Courts may formalize liability tied to predictive amplification of harm. And we may see potential legislation impacting youth specific design standards, limits on engagement optimization and/or mandatory transparency for algorithmic systems.

We may also see evolving clinical implications for eating disorders. Eating disorders may increasingly be viewed not only as psychiatric conditions but environmentally induced or exacerbated disorders linked to platform design.

Clinicians should begin to document social media exposure patterns and incorporate platform use into diagnostic frameworks. This could strengthen litigation evidence and insurance coverage arguments.

In addition, eating disorders may be reframed as partially technology-mediated disorders. This parallels lung cancer (tobacco) and opioid addiction (pharmaceutical design and distribution).

The Meta and Google verdicts do not merely increase litigation risk, they signal a paradigm shift in how harm from digital systems is understood and adjudicated. For eating disorders, the implications are profound:

  • A viable legal theory now exists
  • Causation barriers are weakening
  • Platform design is becoming justiciable
  • Large-scale settlement frameworks are increasingly likely

Most importantly, these developments may redefine eating disorders not only as clinical phenomena, but as foreseeable outcomes of engineered environments optimized for engagement at the expense of psychological safety.

If this trajectory holds, the next phase of litigation will not ask whether platforms contributed to eating disorders, but to what extent, and at what cost.

THE DANGEROUS FICTION OF EATING DISORDER COACHES

The complexities of eating disorders require medical monitoring, psychiatric oversight, nutritional rehabilitation and clinical judgment. Eating disorders demand the highest level of expertise and professionalism from medical and mental health providers.

And yet, in a rapidly expanding corner of the wellness marketplace, they are being addressed by people who are not licensed, not regulated and, in many cases, not clinically trained at all.

They call themselves “Eating Disorder Coaches.”

There is no statutory definition of that role. No minimum education requirement. No mandated supervision. No governing board. No uniform ethical code enforced by law. It is merely a name. A brand. A vacuous title.

And no reliable mechanism to stop them if they cause harm.

Now make no mistake … there are “Eating Disorder Coaches” who are compassionate, intelligent professionals whose services are invaluable in working with a cohesive treatment team. But, in a community which rarely imposes consequences or adverse ramifications for reprehensible conduct, the danger of incompetent eating disorder coaches is far too real.

A Title Anyone Can Use

In most US states and in the UK, the title “eating disorder coach” is not protected. Anyone can adopt it. There is no state exam. No residency. No clinical hours requirement. No continuing education mandate enforced by a licensing authority.

A former state licensing board investigator describes the situation bluntly:

“From a regulatory standpoint, ‘coach’ is a marketing term. It does not confer legal authority, and it does not trigger professional oversight.”

If a licensed psychologist commits misconduct, a complaint can be filed. A board can investigate. A license can be surrendered, suspended or revoked.

If a coach commits misconduct, unless they also hold a license and the conduct falls squarely under licensed practice, there is often no comparable public accountability mechanism.

In practical terms, this means individuals with minimal training can advise medically fragile clients about food exposure, weight restoration, purging behaviors, exercise patterns and relapse decisions … issues that in clinical settings, are handled by multidisciplinary teams.

The danger is not theoretical.

A psychiatrist who specializes in eating disorders warns:

“Improper intervention can reinforce pathology. Poorly managed refeeding can have medical consequences. Missing suicide risk is catastrophic. These are not coaching issues. These are clinical issues.”

Yet the marketplace does not reflect that distinction.

The Coaching Loophole

The structural problem becomes especially stark when licensed professionals move into the unregulated coaching space.

Karin Lewis, an eating disorder clinician and founder of the Karin Lewis Eating Disorder Center in Boston, surrendered her Massachusetts therapy license while under investigation following two pending ethics complaints … including one filed by the therapist who began treating a former client after that client left Lewis’s care.

Separately, that client filed a civil lawsuit against Lewis for Lewis’ alleged unethical business practices. That case was resolved for an undisclosed payment.

However, Lewis’ licenses in New York and Rhode Island currently remain active… at least for the time being.

More recently, Lewis publicly presented herself on social media as an “Eating Disorder Coach.”

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1DCba3vVBq/?mibextid=wwXIfr

The legal reality is striking: surrendering a license in one state does not prevent someone from operating as a coach. Coaching requires no license to surrender.  Instead, it is explained away as a personal and professional transition. In Lewis’ words, “I’m shifting to a coaching and consulting model.” Perhaps the rest of that sentence should have read, “Because I am prohibited from engaging in my chosen profession in my home state.”

Good Lord. From a profession where at least there is some oversight to a role that has no oversight, no requirements and no accountability. What could possibly go wrong?

Especially when you can belong to a community which will protect you no matter what so long as you hold the same idealistic, radical views espoused by others. Surrender your license? Not a problem. You can still serve on Advisory Boards of eating disorder treatment centers. No consequences. No accountability.

However, this is not a commentary on one individual alone. It exposes a systemic failure: professionals can exit regulated roles and continue working in adjacent, unregulated ones without a unified accountability framework.

This type of unregulated model is illustrated in a much larger context, that is, eating disorder board certification. [However, this article will not focus on certification. That is for a future date. It is only briefly included for context.]

Certification: The Illusion of Reform

Despite growing criticism, eating disorder certification programs have multiplied to an extent that would make rabbits blush. Like coaching, certification programs are unregulated, there is no oversight and anyone can create them. A person can include any private issue they like in a certification program … from Indigenous Person’s Land Use Acknowledgements to railing on White Supremacy Culture.

Project HEAL has expanded programming and provider networks while advocating for improved access to care. Inclusive Eating Disorder Education (IEDE) offers tiered credentials and training tracks. The Eating Disorder Institute (?) f/k/a The Institute of Contemporary Eating Disorder Education (ICEE) provides coursework and professional certificates. Iaedp’s certification program is undergoing broad changes because of litigation.

These initiatives often present themselves as raising standards in the field.

But certification is not regulation.

No state licensing board oversees these programs. No legislature defines their scope. No independent authority can revoke a certificate and legally bar someone from continuing to practice as a coach.

A healthcare policy scholar who studies professional licensure draws a clear line:

“A certificate means you completed a course. A license means the state has granted you legal authority to treat vulnerable people — and can remove that authority if you violate standards. They are fundamentally different.”

Certification programs may require coursework. They may encourage ethical guidelines. They may foster community norms.

But they do not create enforceable public protection.

And in some cases, critics argue, they risk compounding confusion.

“Consumers see badges, seals and credentials and assume oversight exists,” says a former hospital-based eating disorder program director. “But there is no disciplinary body behind most of these titles. It’s structural theater.”

These same issues exist with eating disorder coaching.

Coaching as De Facto Treatment

The most troubling development is not that coaching exists. Peer support has long played a role in recovery communities.

The problem arises when coaching becomes indistinguishable from treatment and therapy.

Coaches advertise meal plan guidance. Exposure support. Relapse prevention strategies. Accountability check-ins. Crisis navigation. Body image interventions.

These are not lifestyle adjustments. They are components of clinical care.

Eating disorders affect cardiac function, bone density, electrolyte balance and suicidality. Weight restoration can trigger refeeding syndrome. Purging behaviors can destabilize potassium levels to fatal effect.

In licensed treatment settings, these risks are monitored by medical professionals.

In coaching settings, oversight varies widely … and for the most part, does not exist at all.

A clinical ethicist frames the issue starkly:

“When someone markets themselves as capable of guiding recovery from a life-threatening illness, the absence of regulation is not an oversight. It is a policy failure.”

A Marketplace Built on Vulnerability

The expansion of coaching cannot be separated from systemic failures in access to care. Waiting lists are long. Insurance battles are common. Specialized treatment is expensive.

Desperate families look elsewhere.

The coaching industry has attempted to fill that void with polished websites, testimonials and social media authority. It operates largely outside insurance systems, outside hospital networks and outside state oversight.

In a traditional healthcare model, authority flows from licensure and statutory accountability.

In the coaching marketplace, authority flows from branding.

That shift should concern regulators.

As one former licensing official puts it:

“Regulation exists because vulnerable people cannot be expected to vet complex medical competencies on their own. When we remove regulation, we shift the burden of risk onto the patient.”

The Unanswered Question

Eating disorder coaching today exists in a regulatory grey zone that benefits providers more than patients.

Certification programs provide optics. Professional branding provides credibility. But neither substitute for enforceable oversight.

The core question remains unresolved:

Should individuals treating — or functionally treating — one of the most lethal psychiatric disorders operate without statutory accountability?

Until lawmakers address that question directly, through scope of practice laws, title protections or regulatory oversight, eating disorder coaching will remain what it is now:

A parallel system of quasi-clinical care, built on vulnerable populations, sustained by market demand, and largely immune from the guardrails that define the rest of healthcare.

And in medicine, immunity from oversight is rarely a virtue. It is a roadmap for catastrophic results.

Why we Acknowledge Awareness Week

It is Eating Disorders Awareness Week. A week in which organizations attempt to “raise awareness.” Presentations are made. The microscopically small niche on social media occupied by eating disorder advocates spout their messages using rote, familiar language while ignoring the most alarming statistic.

It is far easier to refine language than to examine outcomes. But outcomes are how we are judged. Outcomes determine our humanity. Our soul. Our fight for survival. And nowhere was this more apparent than in the incredible journey of Kaila Blackburn.

Everything I know about Kaila Blackburn I got from her strong, resilient, incredible mother, Debi and father, Tom. And what I read on social media.

Kaila was born on June 13, 1994, in Virginia, and on September 27, 2025, eating disorders took her life. Eating disorders took her from her family and her loving parents. But while she was with us, how she graced us with her strength.

Kaila was a natural student and athlete. She swam, dove, played softball, and ran with such breathtaking speed and grace that she earned the nickname “Flash.” Her dedication and talent carried her to Virginia Tech, where she proudly competed as a Division I runner.

From what I read, Kaila’s faith was the foundation of her life. From an early age, Kaila loved Jesus, and through her 31 years she remained steadfast, often teaching others through her wisdom and grace. Even in her hardest battles, she clung to her Savior with courage and unwavering trust.

Kaila’s parents wrote this about her, “We will not say that Kaila is “resting in peace.” Instead, we proclaim that she is Running in Paradise—whole, free, and forever embraced by the love of her Savior. That is exactly what Kaila would have wanted.”

I did not know Kaila. I never had the chance to meet her. But, I do take comfort knowing that my Morgan is probably showing her the ins and outs of the next plain of existence. And they are smiling, laughing and at peace.

This week, a Virginia television station did a story on Kaila. It can be found here:

https://www.wtvr.com/on-air/virginia-this-morning/observing-eating-disorder-awareness-week-kaila-blackburns-story

My heart goes out to Debi and Tom and her family. We belong to a horrific club that no parent should ever have to join.

Maybe this week, eating disorder awareness week, we should take just a moment, close our eyes, remember and honor those who have been taken. And in that moment of silence, perhaps we should reflect upon what our priorities should be going into the future.

As a parent who had a loving child taken by eating disorders, I hope and pray every day that Morgan’s life, that Kaila’s life, and the lives of many others, were not extinguished in vain. That perhaps the memory of them will inspire us all to do better. To set aside our petty differences. To pledge to strive forward together … with intelligence, wisdom, grace and collaboration.

So that in the future, there will be fewer Morgans and Kailas and Kellys and many others.

We parents remember. We mourn. We grieve. And yet, we continue to hope. And we continue to love.

And love should be the overriding message of awareness week.

The Illusion of Normal: Why Eating Disorder Mortality Remains the Quietest Fact in the Room


The most recent iteration of the iaedp symposium just concluded in Baltimore. Speakers, many of whom are the same familiar faces appeared giving similar presentations as in years past. And many people will go back to their practices secure in the feeling of a job well done. And the normalization continues.

We know that eating disorders are among the deadliest psychiatric illnesses in medicine. That is the uncomfortable truth that very few are willing to discuss.

That is not debated in the literature. It is not speculative. It is not marginal data. And yet the urgency one would expect around a lethal psychiatric disorder is conspicuously absent from the professional culture that surrounds it.

There are no sustained national funding drives proportionate to mortality risk. Federal research allocations remain disproportionately low compared to other psychiatric and medical illnesses with lower fatality rates. The disparity between lethality and attention is measurable.

So is the normalization.

Inside treatment systems, the language feels technical and reassuring:

Levels of care.
Step-down programming.
Compliance metrics.
Utilization review cycles.
Coverage determinations.

The vocabulary signals coordination. It implies rigor. It suggests that decisions are anchored in standardized expertise. How wrong that is.

On the surface, the system does not appear malicious. It appears procedural. Structured. Measured. Confident. Each provider can justify decisions within guidelines. Each insurer can defend criteria. Each organization can cite consensus statements.

The illusion is not cruelty.

The illusion is normal.

Normal treatment duration.
Normal discharge criteria.
Normal reimbursement ceilings.
Normal consensus frameworks.

Individually, nothing appears aberrant. Collectively, the structure produces outcomes that mortality data have been warning about for decades.

Which raises an uncomfortable question:

If eating disorders carry one of the highest mortality rates in psychiatry, why is that reality not the organizing principle of our professional gatherings?

The Silence Around Mortality

At major symposiums, such as the recent iaedp symposium in Baltimore, the agenda is full. Panels are polished. Continuing education credits are awarded. Networking flourishes.

Eating disorder awareness week is upon us. It will be acknowledged by a crowd measuring in the tens. Some media outlets will pay lip service to it. Again, the same faces will talk about the same messaging. Events will be broadcast on social media attended by the same people, again, measuring in the tens. At the end of the week, the community will pat itself on the back and go back to bickering about social justice issues being allowed in treatment rooms.

But where is the sustained, central, data-driven reckoning with mortality?

Where are the plenary sessions that open with longitudinal survival curves?

Where are the transparent discussions of long-term relapse and death rates across levels of care?

Where are the public audits of whether treatment durations align with neurobiological recovery timelines rather than insurance reimbursement windows?

Mortality is referenced, occasionally acknowledged, sometimes framed as a reminder of seriousness. But it is rarely dissected structurally.

Why?

Because a full confrontation with mortality data does not just indict illness. It forces scrutiny of systems.

It forces questions about whether reimbursement structures shape clinical standards, whether “medical necessity” criteria are actuarial compromises rather than survival-based thresholds, whether discharge decisions are tethered to coverage limits rather than durable recovery, and whether professional consensus has been influenced by economic sustainability of treatment centers.

Where are the public questions and demands about how a credit card company is now going to oversee and operate an eating disorder residential treatment center? And how is that even legal? Let alone in the best interests of our families.

Those are not comfortable conference topics.

For that matter, why wasn’t that topic discussed at the REDC meeting which took place in Baltimore in a public forum with families who are suffering ? What matters more? Families and the mortality rate? Or protecting one of your fellow REDC members from public scrutiny? Profit margins or saving lives?

It is far easier to discuss innovation in therapeutic modalities than to ask whether overall mortality has shifted meaningfully in decades.

It is far easier to host panels on emerging frameworks than to ask why families still encounter rationed care for a disorder with documented lethal risk.

It is far easier to refine language than to examine outcomes.

If symposium speakers are drawn repeatedly from the same professional circles, presenting iterations of the same frameworks year after year, the ecosystem becomes self-reinforcing.

Professional consensus carries weight. But consensus is not formed in a vacuum. It is shaped by committees, insurers, funding realities, dominant voices, and organizational politics.

If dissenting clinicians, particularly those who challenge reimbursement norms or treatment duration standards are marginalized rather than platformed, scrutiny narrows.

If social positioning and internal professional politics consume oxygen that should be directed toward structural reform, then optics begin to substitute for outcomes.

Meanwhile, mortality remains stubborn.

And rarely centered.

The most powerful stabilizing force in the treatment ecosystem is not bad intention. It is normalization.

If revolving door admissions are normal, no one is failing.

If truncated treatment is normal, no one is responsible.

If mortality is described as “multifactorial or complex” urgency diffuses.

But when a system designed to treat a known lethal disorder operates for decades without materially altering lethal outcomes, and that fact does not dominate its most visible professional forums, something deeper is occurring.

The silence itself becomes data.

How is it possible that a field organized around a disorder with one of the highest psychiatric mortality rates can gather annually without centering that mortality as the primary measure of success or failure?

If mortality is not the headline metric, what is?

Attendance numbers?
Program growth?
Expanded diagnostic inclusivity?
Brand alignment?

Those may matter. But survival matters more.

Progress should be visible in survival curves.

Progress should be reflected in transparent long term remission and mortality data published without marketing filtration.

Progress should include open debate about reimbursement models, discharge standards, and treatment duration norms.

Instead, the field risks mistaking activity for advancement.

The same speakers.
The same frameworks.
The same consensus language.

And the mortality rate remains among the highest in mental health.

How Is That Progress?

If a system repeatedly fails to prevent lethal outcomes and still considers itself structurally sound, normalization has replaced urgency.

The institutions may be populated by compassionate individuals. Many clinicians care profoundly. But compassion operating within a misaligned architecture cannot compensate for structural design.

When families trust that care is calibrated toward survival, and insurers trust that criteria are defensible, and professional organizations trust that consensus equals correctness, scrutiny diminishes.

And when scrutiny diminishes, reform stalls.

The question is not whether people inside the system intend harm.

The question is whether the system is calibrated toward survival … or toward its own stability.

Until mortality is treated not as a sidebar statistic but as the central accountability metric, at symposiums, in reimbursement negotiations, in guideline committees, the illusion of normal will persist.

And children, adolescents, women, and men with eating disorders will continue to face a lethal illness inside a system that rarely speaks about death loudly enough.

That is not progress.

It is normalization of unacceptable outcomes.

Soul Hearted … or Soul Sold?

There is a peculiar alchemy in modern healthcare marketing: mix equal parts corporate speak and earnest platitudes, stir in some pastel graphics, and poof! … you’ve created the illusion of transformation. Trying to cover up a tarnished past with a new logo and glossy verbiage has a name: reputation laundering.

The latest to attempt this reputation laundering is Castlewood/Alsana. Marketed as a “Soul Hearted” renaissance rooted in “clinical integrity” and “whole-heartedness,” Castlewood/Alsana’s bumbling attempt is as follows:

“Today, we’re honored to share a letter from Jordan and Keesha:

For the past year, we have been writing a new story for Alsana. We have been listening hard and leaning in. Thinking and planning, building and dreaming. Connecting, collaborating, and creating change within our organization. We have been working together with our teams as well as with our trusted mentors to build what we believe is most needed in the eating disorder field — and honestly, what is needed in the world.

Based on our collective 35 years of experience in the field — countless hours treating clients and working alongside providers — this new beginning for Alsana is our offering to each of you. A love letter of sorts to this work we all hold so dear. It is equal parts an homage to the grassroots efforts of the field’s founders and aspirational intentions for a brighter future.

The way we want to approach this privileged work of healing clients and partnering with providers is something we call Soul Hearted.

We value clinical integrity, whole-heartedness, mutual respect, thoughtful engagement, and rooted reliability. Today, and in the coming weeks, you will see the visual manifestation of this change: a new brand experience, including a new website with updated information on our mission and vision, as well as the new clinical framework that we’ve implemented this past year.

We invite you to follow along. Use our link in bio to visit our new website or read more about our Soul Hearted story.

With this new beginning, we aim for every person who encounters Alsana to feel seen in their authenticity and to know their worth. This is our way to give flowers to those who have come before us, those who will come after us, and all the souls we have the honor of supporting in between. Because each of you deserves flowers. This field deserves flowers.

With Gratitude,

Jordan Watson, Chief Executive Officer, Keesha Amezcua, LMFT, CEDS-C, Chief Clinical Officer” and [Unattributed, Chat GPT]

Castlewood/Alsana is so clueless, it required ChatGPT to craft its message. You may be wondering how we know it was a ChatGPT creation? Simple enough.  Look at the overuse of the “em dash.” ChatGPT frequently overuses the em dash (—), often mistaken for a “long hyphen” or “ChatGPT hyphen” to simulate natural rhythm, add emphasis, link clauses, and replace commas or parentheses. It serves as a stylistic shortcut to mimic human spontaneity and structure thoughts. 

In the public announcement, hyphens are used four (4) times.  Needlessly so. But what better way to mimic human compassion than by having a soulless program draft your heartfelt announcement. While pretending it was “soul hearted.”

Chat’s messaging apparently attempts to include a new logo … a soft beige square with a delicate serif “A” and the soothing promise “You deserve flowers.”

But, if logos could tell the truth Castlewood/Alsana’s new logo would not be a soft beige square with a delicate serif “A” and the soothing promise “You deserve flowers.”

Instead, Castlewood/Alsana’s logo would be a cracked castle, its stones crumbling, sitting uneasily at the edge of the woods … because Castlewood/Alsana is not a new entity at all. Alsana merely remains as an assumed name, a pasteboard mask, a coat of paint applied to an old, failed structure whose legal name remains Castlewood Treatment Center, LLC. And its owner, The Riverside Company, desperately attempting to meet the needs of the investors behind this failed financial experiment.

As for its rebranding?

It is almost poetic how the rebrand leans hard into aspiration: “Because each of you deserves flowers.”

That’s lovely … until you realize that flowers are not a substitute for meaningful clinical outcomes, transparent safety data, and ethical accountability.

“You deserve flowers” is a lovely sentiment.

But flowers are not:

  • peer-reviewed treatment modalities
  • transparent adverse event reporting
  • independent oversight
  • staffing ratios
  • informed consent
  • ethical discharge planning

Flowers do not stabilize electrolytes. Flowers do not reverse medical neglect. Flowers do not replace cognitive behavioral therapy, family-based treatment, or medically competent monitoring.

Sure, everyone loves flowers. But the people truly harmed by substandard care don’t need floral metaphors, they need accountability.

When a treatment provider leans harder on aesthetic reassurance than clinical proof, the public should ask why.

Because in medicine, feelings are not outcomes.

And so, let us move on from the basics of that which the marketing materials disclose to that which they omit.

“Alsana” is not a standalone organization. It remains an assumed business name used by Castlewood Treatment Center, LLC, a company long associated with controversy in the eating disorder treatment space, particularly tied to its former Missouri operations.

If you review the Alabama Secretary of State’s business organization site for any mention of “Alsana” you will find … nothing. But, if you include Castlewood Treatment Center, LLC … bingo! Its registration as a Missouri based limited liability company appears.

This effectively means that Alsana cannot stand alone without Castlewood. The two are inextricably intertwined.

Castlewood’s legal entity did not disappear. The liabilities did not evaporate. The allegations did not dissolve into pastel tones. Only the branding changed.

That distinction matters to patients, families, clinicians, insurers, and regulators, because accountability follows the entity, not the font.

In its rebranding announcement and on its new website, Chat GPT on behalf of Castlewood/Alsana’s leadership describes the transformation as a “love letter,” rooted in “Soul Hearted” values: authenticity, worth, gratitude, and flowers for everyone involved. What’s striking is what the letter does not include. It does not include:

  • Acknowledgment of past harm
  • No discussion of documented controversies
  • No explanation of why multiple senior leaders left
  • No data on outcomes, safety, or reform

In healthcare, especially eating disorder treatment, language without evidence is not healing. It is mere marketing.

Eating disorder patients are uniquely vulnerable to authority, suggestion, and coercion. That is precisely why the field should emphasize evidence-based care, transparency, and ethical restraint. Replacing those guardrails with inspirational language is not soulful. It’s dangerous.

And this specific danger was disclosed by former officers.

While Castlewood/Alsana’s press release paints a warm and fuzzy picture of healing, flowers, and listening deeply, bubbling up beneath the surface are sworn allegations from Castlewood/Alsana’s former high-ranking officers that paint a far grimmer picture. One of prioritizing growth and revenue above clinical care. Of threats, vindictiveness, and internal intimidation tactics that a credible clinical community would find alarming.

One cannot help but wonder if those former officers who came before will be receiving flowers? Or another subpoena.

Let’s be clear about something: it is one thing for critics on the outside to claim a treatment provider is more focused on profit than patients. That may be dismissed with a knowing smile and social media posts. It is quite another when former executives, the people who once ran the place, say the same thing under oath.

In sworn declarations multiple former officers, including its chief operating officer and chief clinical officer resigned or were terminated because they objected to the company’s direction, specifically its shift toward revenue targets at the expense of clinical quality and ethical integrity.

These aren’t anonymous critics with an axe to grind. These are the very people once entrusted with leadership. Under the penalty of perjury, they swore their concerns were met not with reform, but with threatening letters and what they describe as vindictive conduct from the company, conduct that made them fear for their own future if they voiced dissent.

Castlewood/Alsana’s former CEO, Jennifer Steiner, under oath, testified as follows: “As its CEO, I reported to the Company’s Board of Directors (the “Board”). The Riverside Company (“Riverside”), a private equity company, has been the majority owner of Alsana since December 2016, and it was the majority owner during my tenure as Alsana’s CEO.”

“Despite all of my success, however, significant issues with Alsana, its Board and Riverside developed over time, which ultimately caused Alsana to terminate me. Specifically, I became concerned with the direction of the company and what I considered to be Alsana’s decision to maximize growth and revenue above all else. When I refused to go along with certain decisions of Alsana’s Board, including decisions that I believed would jeopardize patient care, I was terminated.”

“Alsana’s bad faith and tortious conduct, which I believe was intentionally designed to frustrate my business and unfairly compete with me, has caused me to suffer both monetary damages and adverse mental health consequences.”

Multiple officers stated under oath that Alsana was prioritizing growth and revenue above all other goals to the detriment of patient care and the integrity of the business. Alsana was sending threatening letters to those former Officers. Alsana was directing aggressive and vindictive courses of conduct against former Officers. Alsana was not providing its officers with the information they needed to do their jobs. That an atmosphere of fear and not collaboration had been created. Alsana was engaged in tortious and bad faith conduct. That when the highest ranking Officer refused to abide by decisions of Alsana’s Board, decisions which she believed would jeopardize patient care, she was terminated. Creating fear and anxiety.

Again, these words are NOT mine. But former Officers.

And that is the same organization now promising every visitor to feel “seen in their authenticity.” It is amazing how visibility becomes selective.

And yet, Castlewood/Alsana’s sordid story gets richer.

The now closed Missouri residential treatment center, originally known as Castlewood Treatment Center had a long and reprehensible history. This history included:

  • Multiple malpractice and injury lawsuits alleging traumatizing psychological practices and harmful conduct at the facility.
  • Investigations and press reports of alleged inappropriate conduct by staff and internal complaints about practices that led to halting admissions.
  • Advocacy groups and former patient coalitions detailing a troubling legacy of psychological harm and exploitation at the same physical location that Alsana claims as part of its continuum of care.

This isn’t folklore, it’s part of the public record associated with the entity they now claim is reborn with “soul and heart.”

The eating disorder field is one where evidence-based practice literally saves lives. Compassion matters, but it is not a replacement for clinical rigor. When a provider’s most senior clinicians quit over ethical concerns, then get sued and threatened with additional legal action, that is not a “slow shift” toward quality, it is a red flag.

And yet Castlewood/Alsana’s public face leans into “connecting” and “creating change” without ever acknowledging the change that insiders say was needed but dismissed. Compliments and brand mantras do not a quality program make.

The eating disorder community doesn’t need another corporate monologue about authenticity and worth. It needs transparency about outcomes, commitments to evidence-based standards, and answers to why its former leaders felt compelled to walk away and speak out.

Because in the world of mental health care, soul isn’t a clinical safeguard. And heart isn’t a substitute for evidence.

It’s time to demand more than marketing.

Castlewood Treatment Center, LLC can call itself Alsana. It can talk about soul, heart, gratitude, and flowers. It can commission new logos and refresh its website.

But what it cannot do is rebrand away:

  • its legal identity,
  • its documented history,
  • the testimony of its former leaders, or
  • the unresolved questions surrounding patient harm.

For families seeking help, for patients fighting for recovery, and for clinicians trying to practice ethically, clarity matters more than comfort. Families deserve more than flowers. Families deserve truth, evidence, and accountability.

And until Castlewood/Alsana confronts its past instead of decorating over it, the castle, no matter how softly lit, no matter how hard its vacuous marketers attempt to put Humpty Dumpty back together… will fail.

No matter how many flowers it attempts to throw out designed to cover its corruption and misdeeds, those flowers are thrown over its own grave.

And if they are still looking for a new logo, I suggest this may be very apropos:

DSM Steering Committee Proposal

The DSM Steering Committee is recommending changes to the severity specifier levels of anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, and binge eating disorder. The changes are intended to emphasize the importance of symptom severity, functional impairment, and illness-related medical complications rather than relying on a range of BMI levels (anorexia nervosa), episodes of inappropriate compensatory behaviors (bulimia nervosa), and episodes of binge eating (binge-eating disorder). The updated severity levels will also be more comparable to the severity of other disorders in the DSM.

The recommended changes can be found here:

https://www.psychiatry.org/psychiatrists/practice/dsm/proposed-changes#:~:text=Description%20of%20Proposed%20Change:,other%20disorders%20in%20the%20DSM

So, what does this actually mean?

First, the American Psychiatric Association has not yet agreed to change the DSM severity criteria for anorexia, bulimia, and binge eating disorder. This is a proposal, not an adoption.

Let’s review what the APA adoption process looks like.

Proposals are submitted: Changes to diagnostic criteria, additions, deletions, etc., are submitted by clinicians and researchers through the APA’s DSM proposal portal.

Next comes the Steering Committee Review. The DSM Steering Committee and specialized Review Committees assess the proposals for scientific evidence, clinical utility, and reliability. If the Steering Committee finds a proposal promising, it is posted for public comment.

The next step is the Final Steering Committee Recommendation. The Steering Committee issues a formal recommendation (either for approval or rejection/modification).

Finally, Steering Committee recommendations must then be approved by the APA Board of Trustees and Assembly before changes are incorporated into the DSM or DSM-5-TR.

With this review procedure in place, let us now look at how often proposals are rejected.

First, I could not locate any websites which show a published rate of rejection. But empirical examples from analyses of the initial iterative revision experience following DSM-5 publication exist.

In a report on the first 3 years of the iterative revision process twenty-nine (29) proposals were received.

These proposals resulted in a few successful changes: addition of prolonged grief disorder, modifications to existing criteria (e.g., ARFID), and inclusion of new codes.

One proposal was explicitly rejected by the APA Board.

17 proposals were returned to the submitters with requests for additional supporting data but not adopted as submitted.

Two proposals were rejected without further review due to conceptual issues.

Others were deferred or still under review.

Therefore, of the 29 proposals in the first three (3) years, it appears as if at least twenty (20) were not approved for inclusion in the DSM-5 or DSM-5-TR. While not a formal percentage, a substantial proportion of proposals (in this case, more than half of those submitted) did not directly result in adopted changes in that period — either rejected outright, deferred for more evidence, or modified significantly before acceptance.

Key points to understand from this process are approval is multistage. Even if the Steering Committee recommends a change, it still must pass approval by the APA Board of Trustees and Assembly. Importantly and statistically, the greatest impediment appears to be lack of data. The majority of proposals are returned for additional evidence rather than adopted, showing how stringent the criteria are on empirical support. Finally, the iterative process means ongoing evaluation: The APA’s current model for DSM revision is deliberately iterative and evidence-driven, which tends to minimize adoption of weakly supported proposals.

Also, the DSM is just a general guideline tool. APA’s practice guideline includes a “Statement of Intent” “… that the guideline should not be considered a statement of the standard of care and does not mandate any particular course of medical care and is not a substitute for independent clinical judgment.

The DSM guidelines are NOT a generally accepted standard of care. In fact, there is no generally accepted standard of care (“GASC”) for eating disorders. This is a huge negative factor which has been haunting the eating disorder community for years.

That factor was decisive in the Wit v. UBH case.

In Wit v. United Behavioral Health, the district court held (and the Ninth Circuit largely left intact for this purpose) that:

An insurer’s internal guidelines are enforceable if they do not conflict with generally accepted standards of care.

Crucially, Wit did not require insurers to mirror professional association guidance, nor did it require guidelines to be optimal or patient-favorable … only that they not contradict the GASC.

This creates a binary inquiry:

If GASC exists and the insurance guideline contradicts it → unenforceable

If GASC is absent, unsettled, or heterogeneous → insurer discretion survives

That premise is decisive for eating-disorder claims. Unlike many medical conditions, eating disorders suffer from persistent standard of care fragmentation. There is no universally accepted level-of-care criteria. There are competing frameworks (APA, AACAP, SAHM, insurer-developed tools, proprietary LOC criteria). There is variation in reliance on: BMI; % expected body weight; Vital sign instability; Functional impairment; Psychiatric risk; Trajectory vs. snapshot severity.

Because no unified GASC exists, insurers can plausibly argue, “Our guideline does not contradict generally accepted standards—because no single standard exists to contradict.”

That argument has been repeatedly successful in eating-disorder denial litigation.

On a positive note, the Steering Committee proposal would reframe DSM severity specifiers for AN, BN, and BED. It would emphasize: Functional impairment; Symptom severity; Medical complications; Explicitly de-emphasize single-metric severity determinations (BMI/frequency counts).

However, and importantly:

It does not eliminate BMI for insurance company consideration;

It does not establish level-of-care rules;

It does not declare BMI-based criteria invalid;

It does not override APA’s SOC disclaimers.

So even if adopted, it would be diagnostic and descriptive, not prescriptive advisory nor normative.

Under Wit v. UBH, the DSM Steering Committee’s proposal, while clinically significant, would not materially constrain insurer claim handling absent a broader, enforceable consensus standard of care for eating disorders, which still does not exist.

Regarding the Steering Committee Proposal, there is a one-month public comment window [Until January 9, 2026]. It is critical that the APA hears from intelligent voices. Voices which supply objective data, medical evidence and information, independent authoritative research studies.

Undoubtedly, activists will also be submitting their lived experience stories claiming they are dispositive. And whereas they are certainly a part of the equation, collaborative messaging which shows unity and a collective strong voice is more important than ever before.

If you are struggling with the substance of the comments you wish to make, The International Federation of Eating Disorder Dietitians on its website has suggested comments. This page also has extensive background on the evolution of this initiative. (And yes, thanks to Jessica Setnick should definitely go out!):

That is the only way in which true evolution and change are possible.

Ai-Generated “Therapists”: Promise, Peril, and What’s Next?

In November 2025, Joe Braidwood, a co-founder of “Yara Ai” chose to shutter his Ai therapy product after concluding it posed unacceptable risks for people with serious mental health issues. This is but the latest chapter in the cautionary tale for the proliferation of Ai therapy.

Mr. Braidwood stated in part: “We stopped Yara because we realized we were building in an impossible space. Ai can be wonderful for everyday stress, sleep troubles, or processing a difficult conversation. But the moment someone truly vulnerable reaches out – someone in crisis, someone with deep trauma, someone contemplating ending their life – Ai becomes dangerous. Not just inadequate. Dangerous.”

“The gap between what Ai can safely do and what desperate people need isn’t just a technical problem. It’s an existential one. And startups, facing mounting regulations and unlimited liability, aren’t the right vehicles to bridge it.”

“… the mental health crisis isn’t waiting for us to figure out the perfect solution. People are already turning to Ai for support. They deserve better than what they’re getting from generic chatbots.”

After Mr. Braidwood terminated Yara Ai, to his immense credit he jumped into the next chapter … how to make Ai programs safer. Mr. Braidwood announced the opening of  GLACIS Technologies – their attempt to contribute to the infrastructure of AI safety:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/from-heartbreak-infrastructure-why-were-building-glacis-joe-braidwood-uzulc/

Read his words again “… someone in crisis, someone with deep trauma, someone contemplating ending their life – Ai becomes dangerous. Not just inadequate. Dangerous.” “… [it] isn’t just a technical problem. It’s an existential one. And startups, facing mounting regulations and unlimited liability, aren’t the right vehicles to bridge it.”

An existential, dangerous problem which startups are not equipped to handle. Consider that reality. And yet, the underlying issue is snowballing at an alarming rate.

This past year, the Harvard Business Review research found the top use of Generative Ai was … “Companionship and Therapy.”

The global Ai in healthcare market is projected to grow rapidly from approximately $37.09 billion in 2025 to over $427 billion by 2032, a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of over 40%.

In 2025, 22% of healthcare organizations reported having already implemented domain-specific AI tools, a significant increase from just 3% two years prior. A 2024 survey noted that 66% of U.S. physicians were using some form of AI, up from 38% in 2023.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has authorized over 1200 Ai or machine learning-enabled medical devices to date, indicating increasing regulatory acceptance and the transition of Ai from research to clinical practice.

On October 21, 2025, Menlo ventures released an extensive article on Ai in healthcare.

So, to whom shall we entrust this existential, potentially dangerous issue? Or for that matter does it really matter to whom society “entrusts” the development of this generational, life altering technology? We already know which industry will pioneer the way, developing the technology which will “address” our mental health needs in the future. And their motivation is far from altruistic.

Insurance companies.

Insurance companies are already increasingly investing in Ai driven mental health tools which are “intended” to offer immediate, scalable support.

So why does the insurance industry want Ai programs in the mental health field?

The Case For: Why Insurers Want Ai in Mental Health

1) Access, Speed, and Convenience. In many regions, patients wait weeks for an initial appointment. A 24/7 platform can provide immediate support, especially for low-acuity needs such as stress management, sleep hygiene, and mild-to-moderate anxiety symptoms.

2) Standardization and Protocol Fidelity. Ai systems can deliver structured interventions consistently, reduce clinician “drift” from evidence-based protocols, and prompt ongoing practice of therapeutic skills. For payers, this is attractive because standardization is measurable and scalable.

3) Measurement-Based Care at Scale. Ai can administer screeners, track symptom trends, and support follow through between sessions. When used under clinician governance, this can improve continuity and help identify deterioration earlier.

4) Cost Containment and System Efficiency. The economic case is straightforward: lower-cost interventions for appropriate cases, and potentially fewer downstream costs if early support prevents escalation.

The Case Against: Clinical, Legal, and Ethical Risks

1) Therapy Without Clear Clinical Accountability. When a human clinician provides psychotherapy, licensing and standards of care create identifiable responsibility. [Responsibility which seems to be increasingly overlooked or ignored.] With Ai-only services, accountability becomes diffuse; vendor, insurer, developer, or “the user” which is a poor fit for high-stakes mental health care.

2) Safety in High-Risk Scenarios. Crisis states such as suicidality, self-harm, psychosis, and domestic violence are exactly where failure is most consequential. Ai systems can miss context, misinterpret signals, or provide responses that inadvertently increase risk.

3) Mistriage and Oversimplification. Even good clinicians mistriage. Ai can compound the problem if it lacks nuance around comorbidities, trauma histories, neurodiversity, or cultural context. False reassurance is dangerous; excessive escalation can overwhelm human systems.

4) Privacy and Conflict of Interest. Insurance is structurally sensitive. It sits where health data meets claims management and utilization decisions. If therapy content feeds decision making, or even creates a reasonable fear that it could, patients may self-censor, undermining care.

The “Fortune / Yara” Inflection Point … and the Counter-Lesson

The Yara shutdown, as reported, is primarily cited for a blunt conclusion; that even with guardrails, Ai therapy may be too dangerous for people with serious mental health issues. In today’s derivation of Ai therapy, that is an accurate and alarming concern.

A more practical reading is more nuanced and more actionable: the most defensible lane is Ai augmented care, not Ai-as-therapist … yet. The difference is not semantic, it is operational. If an insurer deploys Ai, safety must be built as a system: constrained scopes, explicit disclosures, continuous monitoring, and fast human escalation that works in real life not just on paper. But safety can be very expensive.

And we know when operational constraints meet financial constraints, history dictates operational constraints will be compromised.

Human Frailties, Ideological Drift, and Why This Can Fuel Ai Adoption

A less discussed but increasingly influential driver of Ai adoption is patient dissatisfaction with human variability … including the perception that some therapists allow personal politics or social ideology to shape the therapeutic relationship. [The “ism” police is prevalent among many therapists.]

While many clinicians practice ethically, a subset of patients report experiences where therapy felt judgmental or moralizing, or where they felt pressured into a social or political framework that did not fit their needs. Even if these experiences are not yet the norm, they can be highly salient: a single negative encounter can permanently reduce willingness to seek traditional care.

As clinicians continue to incorporate radical belief systems like White Supremacy Culture, fatphobia, Indigenous Person’s Land Use Acknowledgements, zero sum game thinking, anti-Semitism, the patriarchy and radical political and social justice views into their everyday lexicon, they lose the ability to listen to their patients, to meet their patients where they are in exchange for ethical, insightful therapeutic regimens where the patient’s needs are prioritized.

This dynamic can and will accelerate Ai adoption in several ways:

  1. Demand for predictable, skills-based support. Many users primarily want coping tools rather than worldview driven interpretation. Ai systems can be positioned as consistent, nonjudgmental, and oriented around concrete skill building. For mild-to-moderate conditions, that positioning will attract patients who want help without interpersonal friction.
  2. Institutional preference for auditability and uniformity. Employers and insurers are sensitive to reputational risk and complaint volume. Ai systems can be constrained, logged, and audited in ways that are difficult with individualized human practice. That makes Ai attractive to institutions seeking standardized delivery, especially for early-stage care pathways. Like insurance companies.
  3. A political paradox: “neutrality” becomes a marketing claim—and a target. Ai is not truly neutral. Training data, safety policies, and vendor tuning encode normative assumptions. Over time, the debate will shift from “therapists inject beliefs” to “platforms embed beliefs.” The perceived advantage of Ai (less idiosyncratic bias) may become a liability if users discover a consistent, system-level bias scaled across millions.
  4. Fragmentation into “values aligned” therapy styles. Some users will prefer “politics-free” skills support; others will want culturally specific or worldview aligned care. Ai platforms can offer configurable styles, but that introduces the risk of “therapeutic filter bubbles,” where systems affirm a user’s worldview rather than challenge maladaptive beliefs when appropriate.

The net effect is that concerns about human bias will inevitably increase appetite for Ai mental-health platforms, but they will also intensify demand for transparency, choice, and oversight. Values will not disappear. Instead, they are moved upstream into product design.

Practical Guardrails for Ethical and Defensible Deployment

In the unlikely event insurance companies seriously embrace issues other than financial viability, if insurers want Ai therapy to be sustainable, guardrails must be more than disclaimers. For example, they must adopt and enforce:

  • Truthful labeling: don’t call it “therapy” if it isn’t clinician-delivered.
  • Disclosure: repeated, clear notice when the user is interacting with Ai.
  • Clinical governance: licensed oversight of protocols, risk signals, and escalation criteria.
  • Real escalation: quick handoffs to humans with operational accountability.
  • Data minimization and segregation: limit retention and wall off therapy content from coverage decisioning.
  • User choice: Ai should be an option, not a prerequisite for human care when clinically indicated.
  • Independent audit: safety, bias, and outcomes evaluation.

Nonetheless, the insurance industry is already using Ai. Its growth and usage will be unprecedented.

Conclusion

Ai mental health platforms can widen access and improve measurement-based care, but they also create nontrivial risks: safety failures, blurred accountability, privacy conflicts, and scaled bias. Air-gapped systems may reduce external security concerns and speed institutional adoption, yet they heighten the need for strict internal governance, because the most important question becomes not only what the Ai says—but what insurers do with what members reveal.

Ultimately, patient experiences with human inconsistency, including perceived ideological drift, will accelerate demand for Ai support. But that same demand will fuel a new expectation: transparency about values embedded in systems, meaningful patient choice, and enforceable protections that keep “care” from becoming merely a more sophisticated form of utilization management.

Ai is here and it is only in its infancy. And we are right to question ultimately whether we will remain the master of Ai … or whether Ai will become our overlords. Sadly, I believe it inevitable that we will approach that point in time when we give the command, “Open the pod bay doors, HAL.” And the chilling reply will be, “I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that”.

When Activism Becomes Your Identity Recovery Suffers

Eating disorder (ED) treatment sits at an uneasy intersection: medicine and meaning, physiology and identity, personal suffering and social narrative. In that terrain, clinician activism can be a force for good, reducing stigma, broadening access, and challenging harmful norms.

But there is a predictable failure mode when activism frameworks become not just a tool, but a clinician’s very identity. In the eating disorder community, particularly where more militant clinician activists strongly endorse the Health at Every Size (HAES) principles which have been long abandoned by the ASDAH and “White Supremacy Culture” frameworks, identity fusion can undermine clinical objectivity and, in turn, inhibit recovery.

The Core Dynamic: Identity Fusion in Clinician-Activism

Identity fusion (also described as role engulfment, overidentification, or enmeshment) occurs when “the cause” becomes inseparable from “the self.” The clinician activist no longer merely uses a framework; they become and are the framework. They view disagreement or complexity as an existential threat not to an idea, but to their very own identity. In doing so, professional, objective debate becomes impossible since the disagreement is no longer about an eating disorder issue. It is perceived to be about the person.

In that state, clinical questions are vulnerable to moralization:

  • A clinical disagreement becomes “harm.”
  • A treatment trade off becomes “violence.”
  • A patient’s ambivalence becomes “internalized oppression.”
  • A colleague’s caution becomes “complicity.”

None of this requires malice although identity fusion is inevitably morphing into a malice-based reality. It arises from the same impulse that draws many clinicians into ED work: a commitment to relieve suffering and protect vulnerable people. The problem is that fused identity tends to produce epistemic lock-in, a narrowing of what counts as legitimate evidence, clinically relevant language, and/or acceptable outcomes.

And this results in harming patients.

7 Ways Militant Identity-fusion Harms Patients

1) Disagreement is improperly perceived as harm

When a professional fellow clinician asks about vitals, level of care, growth curves, or weight trajectory and your first move is moral accusation (“harmful,” “violent,” “unsafe”), you’ve replaced clinical reasoning with social control.

Impact: Teams stop speaking plainly. Errors persist longer. Patients inevitably deteriorate.

2) “Weight-neutral” becomes “weight-blind”

Stigma reduction is not the same as refusing clinically relevant data.

If your practice has blanket taboos, “never weigh,” “never discuss weight adjacent information,” “never document it,” “never acknowledge weight change even when medically relevant” … you are letting ideology override physiology.

Impact: Delayed recognition of instability, delayed escalation, preventable crises.

3) The framework becomes the differential diagnosis

If every case collapses into one explanation (diet culture, oppression, stigma) and alternative hypotheses are treated as betrayal, you’re no longer practicing medicine or psychotherapy … you’re practicing narrative enforcement.

Impact: Missed complexity of the intersection of ARFID, OCD, Autism, Trauma, substance use, GI-endocrine resulting in impaired and slower recovery.  

4) “Internalized ____” is used as a trump card

If a patient’s goals or fears are explained away as “internalized fatphobia,” “internalized white supremacy,” etc., without genuine exploration, you’re doing something coercive: you’re disqualifying the patient’s agency by definition.

Impact: Performance over honesty; more secrecy, more dropout, less change.

5) Outcomes are replaced with virtue

If you spend more time policing language, “calling in/out,” and attempting to establish moral positioning rather than tracking response to treatment, you’re drifting from care to identity maintenance.

Impact: Plans don’t update when they aren’t working. Patients stay stuck longer.

6) You punish measurement instead of fixing measurement

Measurement can be stigmatizing. The solution is not to ban it; it’s to do it professionally and competently:

  • blinded weights when indicated
  • trauma-informed procedures
  • clear consent scripts
  • a focus on vitals, labs, function, behaviors, impairment
  • explicit thresholds for escalation

Impact when you ban instead: You lose safety signals and invite late-stage emergencies.

7) Institutions are treated like enemies, not systems to improve

If “White Supremacy Culture” language becomes a cudgel (to win arguments) rather than a tool (to identify disparities), it stops improving care and starts producing fear and paralysis.

Impact: Staff self-censor, teams fracture, equity work becomes theater rather than outcome based.

Why ED Recovery Is Especially Vulnerable to Identity Fusion

ED recovery is rarely linear and almost never purely ideological. It typically requires:

  • honest assessment of risk (medical, behavioral, psychiatric)
  • tolerating discomfort and ambiguity
  • confronting avoidance and cognitive rigidity
  • willingness to test beliefs against real-world outcomes

Identity-fused activism can unintentionally reinforce the very rigidity that EDs thrive on—only now it’s dressed up as ethics.

This type of identity activism generally manifests in at least five (5) different mechanisms.

Mechanism 1: Skewed Assessment—When “Weight-Neutral” Becomes “Weight-Blind”

When HAES was relevant, a HAES approach could help reduce shame and prevent naïve weight moralizing. But when weight neutrality becomes identity instead of strategy, it drifts into weight blindness. This is a refusal to engage with weight-adjacent data even when medically and diagnostically relevant.

That matters because ED medical risk is often not negotiable and manifests in:

  • bradycardia, hypotension, syncope
  • electrolyte abnormalities
  • refeeding risk
  • growth suppression in adolescents
  • medication dosing and side effect profiles tied to physiological status

A blanket avoidance of weight trajectories, growth curves, or energy deficit indicators can lead to:

  • under recognition of medical instability
  • delayed escalation to higher levels of care
  • misinterpretation of deterioration as “diet culture panic” rather than clinical decline

Paradoxically, this can increase the likelihood of crisis, i.e., forcing coercive interventions later that could have been avoided with earlier, calmer medical clarity.

Mechanism 2: Ideology First Treatment Planning—One Lens for Every Patient

Recovery requires individualized formulation: what maintains the disorder for this person, with this body, history, and risk profile?

When activism is fused with identity, the framework can become pre-emptive and totalizing:

  • the formulation is decided in advance (oppression, diet culture, stigma)
  • the clinical plan becomes a demonstration of ideological consistency
  • alternative hypotheses are filtered out

In practice, this can look like:

  • prioritizing worldview alignment over stabilization sequencing
  • treating weight change (in either direction) as inherently suspect or unspeakable
  • minimizing patient-specific drivers (trauma, OCD, autism/ARFID presentations, bipolarity, GI/endocrine issues, substance use, family dynamics)

The result is not “anti-oppressive care.” It is reduced differential diagnosis and reduced responsiveness to real-time clinical feedback—two reliable ways to prolong illness.

Mechanism 3: Speaking Taboos and Team Brittleness—When Consultation Becomes Risky

High quality ED treatment depends on teams: medical providers, therapists, dietitians, psychiatrists, higher levels of care and the family. Teams improve outcomes when they can speak plainly about risk, behaviors, and response to treatment.

Identity-fused activism can create taboo trade-offs: certain words and outcomes become morally contaminated. For example:

  • “weight loss” and “weight gain” become unsayable even when clinically relevant
  • “Obesity” cannot ever be said
  • “medical necessity” is treated as a pretext for bias rather than sometimes a reality
  • case presentations omit key data to avoid value conflict

Teams then develop avoidance patterns:

  • clinicians don’t raise concerns that might trigger ideological conflict
  • supervision becomes performative
  • “safe/unsafe person” sorting replaces “strong/weak hypothesis”

When honest consultation becomes socially risky, subtle deterioration is easier to miss and recovery slows.

Mechanism 4: Therapy Turns into Recruitment—Undermining Autonomy and Informed Consent

A less recognized harm of identity-fused clinician activism is coercivealignment. Patients pick up on what a clinician needs them to believe to be considered “good,” “safe,” or “not harmful.”

This can inhibit recovery by:

  • replacing curiosity with compliance
  • encouraging patients to outsource thinking to ideology
  • shaming patients for goals they genuinely hold (including weight-related goals, either direction)
  • pathologizing disagreement as “internalized” something, rather than treating it as an authentic value conflict

In ED recovery, where identity and control are already central themes, this dynamic can be particularly damaging. The patient’s job becomes to perform correctness rather than do the hard work of change.

Mechanism 5: “White Supremacy Culture” as a Total Explanation … From Equity Tool to Clinical Shortcut

Equity frameworks can illuminate real disparities: who gets believed, who is labeled “noncompliant,” whose pain is minimized, whose ED is recognized early, and who can access care. Used well, these frameworks can sharpen clinical accountability.

Used as identity, they can become a clinical shortcut:

  • a slogan substitutes for specific behavioral analysis
  • staff anxiety about “getting it wrong” reduces honest assessment
  • outcome metrics get replaced by moral language

In the worst case, the framework becomes an interpretive monopoly: if a patient isn’t improving, the explanation is always the system or diet culture, never the possibility that the chosen intervention isn’t working for this person.

Recovery requires feedback loops. Any framework that discourages revising the plan when the data demand it will predictably inhibit recovery.

What This Looks Like to Patients

Patients tend to experience the downstream effects in concrete ways:

  • Confusion: “We’re not tracking the things that make me feel unsafe—why?”
  • Silence: “Certain topics make my clinician tense, so I avoid them.”
  • Pressure: “If I don’t adopt the right worldview, I’m seen as the problem.”
  • Delay: “We stayed in the wrong level of care too long because talking about risk felt taboo.”
  • Discouragement: “Treatment became about theory, not about me.”

And for many patients, the ED seizes on the contradiction: if the clinician won’t name physiological reality, the disorder will.

Guardrails: Keeping Advocacy Without Losing Objectivity

The remedy is not “less compassion.” It’s more structure; clinical, ethical, and team based.

1) Separate roles explicitly

Use an internal “two hats” model:

  • Advocate hat: values, access, dignity, stigma reduction
  • Clinician hat: differential diagnosis, risk, measurement, falsifiable hypotheses

2) Require a “facts-only” case summary

Before any formulation, write a short paragraph of observable data:

  • vitals, labs, behaviors, impairment, psychiatric risk, trajectory
    Then add the narrative and equity lens.

3) Pre-commit to falsifiers

Ask: “What would make us change the plan within 2–4 weeks?”
Define escalation criteria clearly, including medical thresholds.

4) Build structured dissent into the team

Rotate a designated “alternative hypothesis” role in case conference. Formulate on alternative platform. This has the effect of reducing groupthink without moral conflict.

5) Make informed consent real

If a clinic centers a framework, say plainly what it means in practice:

  • how monitoring is handled (e.g., blinded weights when needed)
  • what outcomes are targeted
  • what happens if the patient’s goals differ
  • what alternatives exist

6) Translate equity frameworks into measurable clinic behaviors. In emphasizing this aspect, this keeps antiracism clinical rather than rhetorical.

Focus on:

  • access inequities
  • bias in diagnosis rates
  • differential treatment dropout
  • pain and symptom dismissal patterns
  • culturally competent engagement.

Conclusion: Recovery Needs Reality, Not Ritual

Activism in the ED field has certainly helped some patients feel less shame and more seen. But when clinician activism becomes identity fusion—particularly around HAES and “White Supremacy Culture” frameworks, the risk is that treatment becomes less falsifiable, less individualized, and morally brittle.

ED recovery thrives on flexible thinking, accurate assessment, and iterative change. Any approach that turns clinical conversation into taboo, ideology into identity, or disagreement into harm will predictably inhibit recovery by narrowing what can be said, measured, reconsidered, and healed.

The goal is not to remove values from care. It is to keep values in their proper place and perspective: guiding dignity and equity, while preserving the clinician’s first obligation in ED treatment … to see clearly, respond to data, and help the patient recover in their own life, not inside someone else’s ideology.

Gratitude for ?

In years past — usually every November — Sierra Tucson and its Overlord and Master, Acadia Healthcare, would descend upon the Dallas–Fort Worth area to host their annual “Gratitude for Giving” Event.

This event purported to honor individuals and organizations making a positive impact in the mental health community. A noble endeavor, at least in theory — recognizing the resilient, compassionate mental health professionals who do thankless work while corporate giants circle overhead, feeding off their labor.

So without further ado, let’s get to this year’s honorees. They are …

Uh … well … uh…

Make no mistake: North Texas is overflowing with mental health heroes who deserve recognition — especially the ones humble enough to insist they are not worthy of it.

And yet, Acadia chose to honor …

That is undoubtedly due in large part to the fact that Acadia is not hosting a Gratitude for Giving Event in North Texas this year.

Why? Oh, the reasons are plentiful. Embarrassingly plentiful.

It could be that Acadia’s once-respectable stock price — around $82 per share in September 2024 — is now living, if one can call it that, on life support at a pathetic $15.00. That’s not a dip; that’s a financial face-plant. Ouch.

It could be the ongoing Department of Justice fraud investigation that refuses to die … much like the problems Acadia keeps pretending don’t exist. Nothing says “gratitude” like having federal agents rummaging through your corporate laundry.

It could be in November 2025, Acadia shelled out a cool $179 million to settle one of the many fraud lawsuits brought by its own shareholders. When your investors sue you, you know you’ve achieved a special level of corporate rot.

It could be the numerous other pending lawsuits against Acadia owned entities for allegedly physically and sexually abusing people entrusted to its care(?).

It could be the abrupt closure of multiple Acadia facilities over the past year — not because they suddenly discovered ethics, but because the abuse was too egregious or the profits weren’t fat enough. Facilities like Options Hospital, Carolina House, Timberline Knolls, Montecatini.

It could be the number of victims under the “watchful” eye of Acadia who died at their facilities.

It could be the fact that the Department of Veteran’s Affairs is investigating Acadia for allegedly engaging in Medicaid fraud.

It could be that shareholders have filed other fraud lawsuits against Acadia alleging that Acadia engages in medically unnecessary involuntary hospitalization of psychiatric patients. Because nothing says “healthcare” like trapping people to bill insurance.

It could be that Acadia’s methadone clinics are under investigation for falsifying medical records to meet productivity quotas — and billing insurers and Medicaid for therapy sessions that never happened. Productivity over people, as always.

It could be that in June 2024, the US Senate issued a scathing report regarding Acadia and 3 other entities alleging in part that vulnerable children are being used as pawns to maximize the profits of these facilities – and American taxpayers are footing the bill. The report further states, “More often than not, these kids aren’t even getting the basic care they need and instead are in many cases experiencing serious neglect and abuse.”

This is not a wave of bad publicity. It is a tsunami of scandal, abuse, fraud, and moral bankruptcy. And so Acadia — desperate for even a flicker of positive PR — chooses to honor…

Shouldn’t we wonder why? Is it because its head isn’t screwed on just right? Could it be perhaps, that its shoes are too tight? But, perhaps the most likely reason of all … is that its heart is two sizes too small!

But let’s drop the Seussian metaphors for a moment. We all know the real reason.

When an entity places profits over patient care, the inevitable results are mistreatment, abuse and tragedy. At its quarterly shareholders’ meetings, the number of beds are discussed, quarterly revenue, adjusted EBIDTA, capital expenditures, market trends, and issues pertaining to its revenue. What is not discussed is the lack of QUALITY care given, the harm to families it is causing, the abuse, or how the lack of oversight of its facilities is being addressed.

Life and death issues being cavalierly dismissed. After all, we can’t let a few deaths and some abuse detract from Acadia’s CEO’s annual salary of $7 million! That daily paycheck of $19,178.00 needs to keep rolling in!

With this long history of abuse, assault, fraud, unethical profiteering, lack of transparency, shuttering facilities and gross mismanagement, who should be referred to any Acadia facility?

Sadly, that will not stop eating disorder organizations from continuing to accept Acadia’s dirty money and marketers continuing to refer families to Acadia’s chambers of abuse … More’s the pity.

The Best of Times … the Worst of Times: Real Life in the Age of Social Media

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities,

Dickens’ well-known quote reflects the contradictory nature of the era it describes, the French Revolution and the Industrial Revolution, where societal extremes of wisdom and foolishness, belief and doubt, and hope and despair coexisted. The phrase is often used today to describe any period of conflicting circumstances, where seemingly opposite conditions exist simultaneously. 

Dickens captured an era riven by contradiction—one that is strikingly familiar in our decaying, digital age. Today, we move through a world that offers extraordinary access, unprecedented connectivity, and boundless opportunities for expression. Yet those same spaces are shaped by curated identities, algorithm-fed anxieties, and an ever-growing sense of distance among people who are, paradoxically, more connected than ever.

The fears, insecurities and cowardice which define the essence of keyboard warriors have come to define their very lives. And pushes them even further from humanity.

Real life … messy, unpredictable and intimate remains the realm where meaning truly accrues and matters.

When I am out in public, be it the local dog park, a mixed-use shopping retail development, restaurants, the courthouse, bars, going for walks, I interact with people from all walks of life. Men, women, numerous races and ages. Each time, there is laughter, discussions centered on our families, our pets, the holidays, our health, the beauty of the day. I have dear friends from both ends of the political spectrum. We socialize, party together, laugh together.

In real life, conversations are not filtered through screens or stripped of tone and nuance. A friend’s laughter, the warmth of a handshake, the look in someone’s eyes when they understand you … these moments carry a weight no number of “likes” can replicate. Human relationships deepen through vulnerability, shared experience, and presence. Real life offers the “age of wisdom,” where insight grows not from viral posts but from quiet reflection, trial and error, and authentic connection.

Real experiences ground us. They tether us to something permanent and tangible: the smell of freshly cut grass in the springtime, the scent of the Christmas tree, the chaos of family gatherings, the comfort of routines, the joy of unexpected kindness. These are the “seasons of light,” moments illuminated by genuine human engagement.

It Was the Worst of Times: The Digital Landscape of Angst and Despair

Yet we live simultaneously in a world where social media defines culture. Platforms promise connection but often deliver its hollow imitation.

To properly illustrate the decay of society, one need only understand that the financial goal of the five (5) wealthiest corporations in the United States is attained by enticing us to immerse ourselves completely in our personal devices, to remove ourselves from real life and to exist solely on social media. To isolate ourselves. To limit our face-to-face human interaction. That insures their financial success while insuring the destruction of our well-being.

Here, the “age of foolishness” reigns … where impulsive opinions eclipse thoughtful dialogue and where appearance overshadows substance. Belief contorts into echo chambers, while incredulity becomes a reflex to any idea that challenges our curated worldview. We scroll endlessly, absorbing news of tragedies, political battles, and social comparisons until the world feels saturated with crisis. Cowardice and fear are the watchwords. If you do not agree with someone’s viewpoints? You need only “block them” on social media. With a keystroke, you have eliminated intelligent discourse and the expanding of your mind.

We are inundated with political parties disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing. Promulgating the power of their own party over the needs of the Republic. Indeed, politics has become a new religion rather than an enlightened arena where we can engage in intelligent conversation with a shared goal, the well-being of our nation. Politics is now pop culture. Name calling. Inflammatory labeling. Each tribe remaining in the safety and comfort of their own echo chamber. Pundits opining that we are closer to a civil war now than at any time since the end of the Civil War.

There is the parade of angst, personal attacks, tribal entrenchment, absolutism, and fear … the very worst of our qualities.

This is the “season of darkness.” Online, despair grows quietly: the loneliness of constant comparison, the fear of missing out, the anxiety of measuring oneself against the polished illusions of others. Validation is quantified, self-worth becomes algorithmic, and interactions feel more transactional than relational.

However, when people experience “real life” and interact personally with their fellow humans, more often than not, it is our goodness which shines brightly. Not our disagreements. When pain, anxiety and fear are disclosed, it is in the context of a safe place to be shared and cared for by people who want only the best for you. It is tragic that we have unnecessarily permitted social media to diminish our human connection.

In this winter of digital despair, everything is visible, yet little feels real.

Despite its cold edges, social media also holds the “spring of hope.” It has connected the isolated, amplified marginalized voices, and spread information at breathtaking speed. But harnessing its good requires remembering that platforms are tools, not substitutes, for human connection.

We can reclaim the best of both worlds by grounding ourselves in real relationships while using digital spaces intentionally. Social media should supplement our lives, not consume them. It should extend community, not replace it.

Just as Dickens depicted an age torn between extremes, we too, navigate a world of contrasts. The best of times and the worst of times coexist in our hands … literally, in the glowing rectangles we carry everywhere.

The goodness of real life lies in its humanity. The manner in which our souls seek out to connect with others. The despair of social media lies in its impersonality. By choosing presence over performance, conversation over commentary, and authenticity over algorithms, we can keep the light from being swallowed by the dark.

In the end, it is up to us to determine which “season” defines our era.