We're Spending $300 Billion a Year on Mental Health Care. Why Is It Making Us Sicker? | Opinion

We're spending nearly $300 billion a year on mental health care, according to the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS). Yet Americans are more anxious, more medicated, and more emotionally fragile than ever. The system isn't just failing, it's making us worse. As we mark Mental Health Awareness Month, it's worth asking whether this growing investment in therapy is truly helping or if it's fueling a culture of emotional fragility.

Despite therapy's rapid growth, Americans are growing sicker, weaker, and more divided. I've spent two decades as a psychotherapist in New York and Washington, D.C., and I've watched the system drift away from building strength and toward rewarding weakness.

One woman came to me after her previous therapist told her to quit a new job after a single week because it "triggered" her. The real issue was that she didn't like taking direction, but instead of helping her confront it, the therapist just affirmed her discomfort. Another patient was told by her therapist that setting "healthy boundaries" meant cutting off her entire family. No discussion. No healing. Just emotional isolation disguised as progress. That's not counseling. That's enabling.

What was once a tool for meaningful change has turned into a comfort industry. Many therapists now prioritize validation over challenging patients to face hard truths and change self-defeating behaviors. Therapy is now a place where discomfort is avoided, not explored. This mindset doesn't build resilience; it reinforces fragility. When done right, therapy can spark real growth. But increasingly, it enables emotional weakness instead of helping people get stronger.

To fix this, we need to rethink how therapy is practiced and perceived. Therapy should challenge people, not coddle them. Patients need to be asked tough questions about their role in their problems, not just how they feel or who's to blame. Therapy can be uncomfortable. That's how growth happens.

The problem has only grown with the spread of technology in mental health. AI-driven apps and virtual therapy platforms promise 24/7 support, but algorithms can't replace human connection. They can't read body language, tone, or emotional nuance. While these tools offer convenience and accessibility, they often lack the depth of real therapy. At best, they provide momentary relief. At worst, they reinforce dysfunction. The result is therapy reduced to a transaction—quick, shallow, and easily consumed—rather than real change.

There's a broader cultural problem, too. Therapy isn't just feeding personal fragility; it's fueling societal division. In today's therapy culture, people are cast as either oppressed or oppressors, as if those are the only options. This binary doesn't promote healing; it breeds resentment and victimhood.

We live in an era where disagreement is treated like trauma, and emotional reactions are weaponized for political gain. On social media, vulnerability is currency. On TikTok, influencer "therapists" dish out instant validation in 30-second bursts. The most anxious voices often hold the most influence. Complex issues get reduced into content. Millions watch, but few get better.

Being "in therapy" has become a badge of honor. Mental health struggles have morphed into an identity. But that's not strength. We should celebrate emotional resilience, not broadcast pain for validation.

Much of this dysfunction begins with how therapists are trained. Graduate programs often prioritize emotional safety and unconditional validation over fostering real growth. Future therapists learn to tiptoe around discomfort instead of helping patients face it head-on. That has to change. Therapists should be trained to help patients build grit and achieve goals, not just listen passively, offer vague reassurances, or affirm every feeling.

We also need to stop outsourcing our emotions. People have been trained to seek validation from therapists, social media followers, even strangers online. But true emotional strength doesn't come from likes or labels. It comes from within. Therapy should build that foundation, not create lifelong dependence on external approval.

There's a difference between openness and indulgence—between sharing to connect and oversharing to gain attention. Vulnerability should never be a tool for popularity. What used to be genuine self-expression has become performance. And while it might look like healing, it's not.

We need to rethink how we view discomfort. Pain, failure, and adversity aren't disorders. They're part of life and part of how character is built. Treating every challenge as trauma doesn't help people. It weakens them. When we pathologize ordinary struggles, we rob people of the opportunity to grow stronger. Disagreement isn't an attack. Setbacks aren't mental illness. Life is hard, and that's OK.

The truth is, we don't need more therapy. We need better therapy. Therapy should make people stronger, not dependent. If we want a healthier, more resilient country, we need to stop turning therapy into an emotional pacifier and start using it as a tool for real change. It's time to demand more from therapy because the future of our mental health depends on it.

Jonathan Alpert is a psychotherapist practicing in New York City and Washington, D.C., and the author of the forthcoming book, The Therapy Trap.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.