The Intersectionality of OCD and the Shame Surrounding Sexuality 

By Mike Vatter

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is often misunderstood as a condition involving excessive cleanliness, organization, or ritualistic behavior. In reality, OCD is a complex mental health disorder characterized by intrusive thoughts, unwanted images, fears, and compulsive behaviors intended to reduce anxiety. One of the least understood and most painful aspects of OCD occurs when intrusive thoughts intersect with sexuality, creating a profound sense of shame, confusion, and isolation. 

Sexuality is already a deeply personal aspect of human identity. Many people grow up receiving messages, whether from family, religion, culture, or society, that certain thoughts, desires, or identities are inappropriate or unacceptable. When OCD enters this landscape, it can weaponize these fears and vulnerabilities. Intrusive thoughts often target what a person values most or fears most. As a result, individuals with OCD may experience unwanted sexual thoughts that feel completely inconsistent with their values, identity, or desires.

Someone with OCD may become trapped in relentless questioning: “What if I am attracted to someone I shouldn’t be attracted to?” “What if these thoughts mean something about who I really am?” “What if I am secretly a bad person?” These questions are not driven by genuine desire but by overwhelming anxiety and uncertainty. Nevertheless, the individual often feels compelled to seek reassurance, analyze their reactions, or avoid situations that trigger distress. 

The shame surrounding sexuality intensifies this struggle. Society frequently treats sexual thoughts as reflections of character rather than recognizing that thoughts can occur without intent, desire, or meaning. For people with OCD, this misunderstanding can be devastating. Many become terrified that simply having an intrusive thought makes them immoral, dangerous, or fundamentally flawed. As a result, they often suffer in silence, afraid that disclosing their thoughts will lead to judgment or rejection. 

The intersection of OCD and sexuality can affect people of all sexual orientations and gender identities. Some individuals experience obsessions centered on questioning their sexual orientation, regardless of whether they identify as heterosexual, gay, bisexual, or otherwise. Others experience intrusive thoughts involving taboo or unwanted sexual scenarios. In each case, the distress comes not from the thoughts themselves but from the meaning the individual fears those thoughts represent. 

This experience is particularly challenging because shame thrives in secrecy. The more a person attempts to suppress, analyze, or eliminate intrusive thoughts, the stronger and more persistent those thoughts often become. OCD feeds on certainty-seeking, convincing individuals that if they can just think hard enough or find enough reassurance, they will finally feel safe. Unfortunately, the cycle rarely ends that way. 

Recovery begins when individuals learn to separate intrusive thoughts from identity and intention. Evidence-based treatments such as Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) help people tolerate uncertainty and reduce compulsive responses. Through treatment, many discover that thoughts are not actions, urges are not intentions, and anxiety is not evidence. They learn that having an intrusive thought says far less about their character than the courage it takes to face that thought without engaging in compulsions. 

Understanding the intersectionality of OCD and sexual shame requires compassion, education, and nuance. It demands that we challenge cultural assumptions about thoughts and morality while recognizing the unique suffering OCD can create. When people understand that intrusive thoughts are a symptom of a disorder rather than a reflection of character, shame begins to lose its power. 

Ultimately, healing occurs not when every intrusive thought disappears, but when individuals no longer measure their worth by the thoughts that enter their minds. By replacing shame with understanding and fear with self-compassion, people living with OCD can reclaim both their mental health and their sense of identity.

The post The Intersectionality of OCD and the Shame Surrounding Sexuality  appeared first on International OCD Foundation.

Awakening from the Trance

This blog was originally posted by the TLC Foundation for BFRBs

Trichotillomania touches on all levels of human experience, from the neurological to the spiritual. It represents the interactions of brain chemistry, but also habituated physiological responses, sensory processing, behavior patterns, characteristic emotional states, perceptual styles and beliefs, and the sense of interconnectedness with others and the experience of faith. It is more than just a behavior, although it is most apparent when it manifests itself in that way.

Trichotillomania can be treated at all of these levels through different treatment approaches: medication, relaxation and response prevention, behavior modification, hypnotherapy, psychotherapy, cognitive therapy and visualization, group therapy and spiritual practices. The most effective approach will depend on the specific needs and circumstances of each individual at specific times, as well as on the compatibility of the personalities of the treatment provider and patient/participant.

In this article I will present my own view of treatment with a particular focus on how to understand and address the aspect of trance.

“Trance” is not a clinical term, but it is one which most pullers seem to recognize immediately as a significant part of the hair pulling experience: particularly when reading or watching TV. However, I believe that any time one is pulling, one has entered a trance state and that trance states occur with great frequency even at other times. To look at how to make use of this concept I will first describe what I think treatment needs to address.

Trichotillomania as a symptom: My approach is to look at what the behavior of pulling means to a particular person, and what it means about them. I view pulling as a symptom which indicates something about what is going on in that person’s life and can be best understood if we look at the context in which it occurs – both over time (how did it evolve), and ecologically (how does it fit into the network of the person’s relationships, commitments, self-perceptions, experiences of their own body and emotional states, etc.).

Symptoms are an indication of the existence of some other process. Just as a fever may reflect a viral infection, a repetitive behavior reflects an underlying mental activity. The symptom develops in response to the activity and one of its functions is to achieve some control over the consequences of that mental activity. I believe that trichotillomania indicates an attempted solution to a psychological challenge (or opportunity) one is facing in one’s life. However, it is an ineffective solution for two reasons. Firstly, it doesn’t alter the situation which has become challenging, and so the underlying causes remain unchanged. Secondly, by drawing attention onto itself it obscures those underlying causes. It distracts attention from them.

But the behavior, none the less, does have some purpose and utility. It relieves the anxiety of becoming too aware that there are challenges and opportunities which one feels unprepared to confront.

The role of emotions:

The mechanism which could be drawing one’s attention to these challenges and opportunities is the experience of emotional reaction. Emotions serve to amplify our perceptions of situations by making the good seem better and the bad seem worse. In that way, they lead us to focus on what is important to us so that we will take action. Being able to notice and interpret our emotions is something we learn as we grow up. Emotions represent a kind of language for helping us make meaningful choices as we engage with life.

But if these emotions were felt to be too overwhelming – if what they indicated felt too bad to be tolerated because we did not learn how to resolve the situations they drew attention to – then we eliminated them from our emotional vocabulary and we restricted our awareness of them. Now, when those situations reoccur, rather than notice our feelings of hopelessness and helplessness, we may turn to other mechanisms, more basic ones rooted in physical sensations, to occupy ourselves and restore some sense of order to the world.

So, in this model, the behavior of hair pulling is not an indicator of psychological inadequacy, but rather a lack of awareness. It reflects a split between awareness/thoughts and sensations/feelings. It is the result of an unknown mental process, something one has not been able to assimilate into one’s conscious thought, for which no words or language have been developed.

If this could be understood then I believe there would be less justification for feelings of shame connected with Trichotillomania, because Trichotillomania represents an underlying process outside of personal awareness, and thus is not something voluntarily chosen. (It would also answer the following disturbing statement frequently made to hair pullers: “You could stop if you really wanted to.”)

I have so far described how emotional activity and unconscious thoughts affect us in ways which we do not recognize. Despite this lack of recognition, we still need to adjust to them and regulate or organize ourselves. A good example of this is the way in which a fussy baby, if not picked up or fed when it wants to be, learns to get its thumb into its mouth and suck on it. It is finding a way to organize its reactions to its world by retreating into an attitude of self-sufficiency. In this way it solves the problems of the conflict it experiences between the emotions it feels and the lack of a way to take effective action about them in the outside world. It restores order by returning to a sensation-based activity which it has control over. It has learned to retreat into a trance.

The similarities between this example and the experience of hair pulling are striking. So how is Trichotillomania like a trance, exactly?

Trance:

The (Oxford) dictionary defines “trance” in these ways: a suspension of consciousness; a state of mental abstraction from external things; absorption, exaltation, rapture, ecstasy. Going into a trance is turning away from the world, suspending engagement with it, and entering a twilight zone of self-enchantment. The experience is one of being in between states: neither in one’s own mind, nor aware of one’s body. One has turned away, both from the rest of the world and from the rest of oneself.

It is a state in which one doesn’t think about what one feels, and doesn’t act on what one feels. One has turned away from the parts of the self which are concerned with action and purposefulness. In the trance state, a part of the personality takes over which doesn’t care about anything (except the act of pulling) and ignores the existence of time or consequences to one’s actions. It is the opposite of the perfectionist attitude so common to many hair pullers. Becoming entranced in the act of reading, for example, one detaches from the here and now, and allows this part of the personality to “come out”: while the cat’s away, the mouse plays. It is a secure, dependable, magical place in which one can avoid dealing with the stimulation of one’s spontaneous emotional responses to life.

If we look again at the role of emotions as amplifiers of perceptions, we see that what is happening in this state is that one is neither thinking about, nor acting on, what the emotions could be indicating. And as they indicate what is important so that action can be taken, the trance state eliminates the possibility of taking the action required.

How does this detaching process become chronic?

I believe it is the result of repeated experiences of failing to take effective action on what one’s emotions tell one is important. This failure can have many causes, but the result is that these important situations become perceived as challenging and threatening because they are felt as over stimulating. To protect oneself from discomfort, one disassociates from the situation. The part of oneself which perceives or feels what is going on is split off from consciousness. What remains conscious is the part which doesn’t feel and which preserves a sense of order and calm. Gradually, a gap develops between this external presentation of the self – as coherent, caring, positive – and an inner state of feeling confused, frustrated, and overwhelmed.

A false self develops, a self which appears to be more in control than is actually felt, and which one tries to believe in. The fear of having this façade penetrated adds greatly to the level of stress felt by hair pullers. Because this false self cannot be dropped when one’s gut reactions tell one to, one becomes trapped in a vicious circle that leaves one over stimulated (including the times when one merely seems to be bored), detaching from one’s body, and trying to regain control. A strong need is felt to reconnect to the body and feel grounded.‍

Trichotillomania as a return to the body:

The route to feeling in one’s body again is through becoming hyperaware and hypersensitive to sensation. This is a more basic and elementary experience of oneself: one cannot think or feel what is happening, so one uses a physical behavior to establish a link between unconscious inner experience and being in the real, physical world. This provides a solution to the twilight state of feeling detached. The sensation-focused behavior provides a substitute sense of being connected, and its ritualistic aspect creates a sense of soothing order rather than chaos.

So, looked at in this way, the act of pulling a hair actually represents the second stage of entering into a trance. The trance is triggered by the habitual reaction of disassociating rather than facing a situation which one perceives as overwhelming. But while an attitude of order and calm is being adopted (a state of “mental abstraction”), the experience of being detached from the feelings in the body becomes disorienting and the urgent need is felt to focus on the sensation of touching, playing with, and pulling hair. This provides the experience of concreteness and connectedness which allows the trance to continue.

Awakening:

What is needed is a process for regaining consciousness and turning back to engaging with life. How does one wake up? How can one build a sort of observational platform from which to watch the process of entering into a trance; one which can be separate from the process itself? I would suggest that rather than start with the ultimate goal of avoiding trance states altogether (which may be unreachable), a more pragmatic approach would be to learn how to wake up once one starts.

When we drive long distances on freeways and our attention wanders, we sometimes find ourselves drifting over into the next lane. If there were raised lane markers on the road, they would then alert us by causing a noise and a vibration as the car drove over them. That is the kind of alarm system we are looking for. It doesn’t prevent our minds from wandering, but it brings us back to the here-and-now experience before we get into trouble.

Such a system does exist: it is the sensation of a hair being pulled out. Once one hair is pulled, the opportunity exists to break the trance. That hair can be a signal to come back to the here and now rather than getting into the trouble of starting a pulling binge. (The goal of stopping at one hair pulled would also very likely include the benefit of making it much easier to commit to a realistic process of bringing the behavior within tolerable limits.)

How can one learn to stop at just one? Setting such a goal becomes much more possible if one understands one’s reasons for avoiding the goal until now. I have discussed in this article how Trichotillomania is a process which provides an attempted solution to an underlying tension. There is an inevitable anxiety about relinquishing a familiar, dependable behavior. A part of oneself therefore resists changing it and depends on the benefits it brings. This part has no intention of allowing any changes to occur unless one is prepared for the emotional experiences that follow, and it protects one from them.

A way to understand this resistance to change would be to think of the patterns of our behavior as a balanced mobile hanging from the ceiling. All its parts are interconnected and form a stable pattern. If we remove one of the parts, all of the others start to swing wildly until they settle into a new, substantially different formation. The intermediate stage of unbalanced, indeterminate movement could be likened to the feeling of overstimulation from one’s emotions when the ritualistic trance is denied.

To prepare for this change, an expanded awareness of emotional experience and what it teaches is indispensable. The remainder of this article offers some suggestions for work that can be done alone to expand this ability. This task is made much easier and more effective, however, when it is done in the context of a healing dialogue: either in individual or group therapy, or in a support group. This option deserves serious consideration because the act of communicating to another person helps bring one’s inner experiences into focus. Additionally, when there is the trust that the other person is willing not only to listen but to actively attempt to grasp what the speaker means from the speaker’s own point of view, the feeling of validation and recognition received makes awareness of the emotional states more bearable.

Reading the signals:

Part of the personal preparation which can be done is to establish intent to learn from what is found when one tries to read the signals. This would require a willingness to recognize that there are good reasons for what one feels rather than prejudging emotions as wrong, inappropriate, or proof of all the “bad” things one has come to believe about oneself. It also requires a willingness to feel discomfort, hurt, and vulnerability so that there can be a return to wholeness and the sense of being fully alive.

1. The most direct step is simply to ask yourself questions such as: What am I feeling? What is on my mind? Is something bothering me? What do I want right now? Is there something I should be doing? Special attention should be paid to the first answer that comes to mind, even if it very quickly disappears or seems insignificant. You should have an open mind and be prepared to be surprised. Before asking yourself these questions, stop the activity you are doing, if possible. If answers do not emerge the following techniques can be tried.

2. Let your body speak. Allow yourself to become aware of where you feel tension or discomfort. Imagine that that part of you has a voice and can answer the questions in Step One. Try asking follow-up questions to learn more.

3. Try exaggerating the physical state that you are in. That is, whatever movement your body is making or would like to make, take it to an extreme as if you were a very melodramatic actor or dancer who had no inhibitions. Again, think about how your body is expressing answers to the questions in Step One.

4. Visualize yourself as a child of about five and ask the questions of her or him. The answers should seem to be in the language of a 5-year-old. It might help to hold an object such as a cushion or stuffed animal to you as you try to make contact with yourself in this way. It also might help to combine this with some exaggeration of body expression. Additional questions you might ask could be: What do you need from me? Is somebody upsetting you? (See Reference 1.)

5. Write a question to the child, then switch your pen to your other hand and write the answer with that hand. You should write very quickly and with no attempt to make the writing more legible. Then switch your pen back to your original hand for a further question. Continue the dialogue, and the switching of hands, until no further clarification is necessary. The purpose of this technique is to facilitate the spontaneous flow of ideas. (See Reference 2.)

6. Write out the questions as complete sentences to be completed and complete the same question five times as quickly as possible. The questions would be rewritten as follows: Right now, I want….; or: I am upset because…. Allow any response to come forward. Often, a few unrevealing responses will be followed by one unexpected and more valuable one. (See Reference 3.)

7. Hold the hair which has just been pulled out and ask yourself: What did this hair give itself up for? A significant reason for the failure to stop hair pulling is the frequent presence of trance states, which enable one to deny the consequences of the behavior. Additionally, the experience of trance encourages one to focus on physical sensations such as the feeling of a hair being pulled, so as to achieve a greater sense of being connected to reality.

I have described how one enters a trance when certain situations trigger a habituated expectation of becoming overwhelmed. In self-defense one suspends consciousness of the challenge and retreats into a state of emotional detachment. The alternative to the trance, then, is to identify and assimilate the emotional cues about the situation so that appropriate action can be taken. The sensation of the first hair being pulled can serve as an alarm to awaken one from the trance and begin this process of self-evaluation and a return to an alert engagement with life.

Reference 1: Margaret Paul. Inner Bonding. San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1990.Reference 2: Lucia Cappachione. The Power of Your Other Hand. North Hollywood, CA: Newcastle Publishing, 1988.Reference 3: Nathaniel Branden. How to Raise Your Self-Esteem. New York: Bantam, 1987.

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Arthur Caplan: The Right to Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of Health

Arthur Caplan’s reflections on medical ethics draw not only on theory but also on lived experience. As a child hospitalized during the polio era, he watched doctors shield families from harsh truths, promising sick children would “go home” when they clearly would not. That early encounter with paternalism sparked a career questioning who medicine serves, who gets protected, and who gets left behind.

In this episode of Behind the Breakthroughs, Caplan argues that modern bioethics is undergoing a profound transformation. Medicine once viewed disability almost exclusively as a problem to “fix,” often with horrifying consequences. He recalls a time when infants born with conditions like Down syndrome or spina bifida were denied treatment and allowed to die. Today, he warns, the danger is subtler but equally troubling: a culture of genetic testing and parental perfectionism that risks defining human worth by what technology can detect.

Caplan also sees a seismic ethical shift from protection to autonomy. Research ethics once focused on shielding vulnerable people from dangerous experimentation after scandals like Tuskegee and the Willowbrook State School. Now, fueled by post-COVID distrust and libertarian politics, public pressure favors “right to try” medicine and personal choice even when evidence is weak or risks are high.

Yet Caplan draws a sharp line at public health. Vaccines, he argues, are not merely personal decisions but moral obligations rooted in responsibility to others. He warns that an obsession with liberty, detached from community ethics, threatens the foundations of public health itself.

Caplan also looks ahead, discussing what he thinks will define the next ethical frontier, the brain. If we can alter the brain, how much can we change and still remain ourselves?

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

 

IPM: How did you become interested in medical ethics?

Caplan: When I was about six, in 1956, I was playing with my parents in their bedroom, rustling around, when they noticed my legs weren’t moving well, and my mother freaked out because she knew that meant maybe polio. It was something that all parents knew about at that time, fearing it was incurable, sometimes fatal, and often disabling.

You didn’t know even what to do to prevent it. People tried to close down swimming pools and not have summer camp, but it wasn’t clear what the route of transmission was. They didn’t understand that it could be in wastewater or fecal material.

Off I went, living in Boston, to Mass General. The experience definitely shaped me in many ways in terms of outlook and career. At the time I didn’t like the fact that the doctors and nurses didn’t tell us the truth. They often said, “Arthur is going to go home,” and Arthur was clearly pretty sick, and he didn’t go home. That’s a long-winded way of explaining the genesis of my interest in medical ethics.

One other thing that was interesting that people forget when a newborn is born with a birth defect when they go into a sort of neonatal peds rotation is if the parents say there’s a birth defect and we don’t want it treated, the doctors do not. That included spina bifida. In fact, it included Down syndrome. Those infants were put in a corner and allowed to die through starvation. 

 

IPM: How is genetic testing changing society’s perception of what constitutes an “acceptable” human being, as well as medicine’s responsibility to treat all humans?

Caplan: The idea that medicine has always had a view that disability is something that you have to treat—I don’t agree with that totally. I would like to see that treated as an open question, not a close one. It’s also clear that aside from medicine’s views of disability, the line shifts technologically; some of the things that are disabling are less so as we get better technology.

At NYU, we do face transplants…but we, interestingly, have not really gotten into limb and hand transplants. The reason is we think that the prosthetic opportunities are so good that there’s no reason to do a procedure and then stay on immunosuppression by transplanting a liver.

Disability is often just seen as something where the cost is literally an economic cost. What’s the burden of the person to take care of them in an institution or to take care of and make accommodations for them? If you have a kneeling bus or a ramp in the library and that sort of stuff, but you don’t get in the economist calculations often enough, just measure what it’s like to have an enjoyable life. Forget about what it costs.

There are many issues around disability that I think the world of genetic testing, even genetic engineering, neglects a little.

Counselors have been taught over the years to be neutral, and we use them frequently, particularly in academic settings. But they’re not neutral. They have a list of conditions that they look for and will counsel you on, and then there’s another broad range of things they don’t say anything about.

That boundary is shifting according to parental expectation. There are plenty of wealthy parents who I think won’t accept anything less than a perfect child. If you tell them their kid has any kind of issue, they may well start over. There are other cultures where you tell them their kid has a club foot or a minor issue, and they’re going to try and cope with it. Culture really shapes how we view. What are we going to diagnose? What are we going to treat in the U.S.?

I fear partly what determines what we’re going to diagnose is what we’ve got to test for, not necessarily whether it’s a bad thing, a good thing, a bearable thing, a cultural thing, whatever. It’s almost like, can I charge for this? Then I’m going to add it to the battery.

 

IPM: What has been the biggest medical moral shift over your career?

Caplan: Research ethics. When research ethics really got rolling, it was in response not to the Nazi concentration camp experiments, although the idea of informed consent came from those abuses when they were put into the court opinion. The emphasis was on informed consent.

All the way back to the Tuskegee study of the early 70s, people were put in experiments, oftentimes institutionalized Willowbrook demented Jewish chronic disease hospital kids; poorly educated Tuskegee kids in asylums; and the Iowa stuttering experiments, where they tried to figure out if they could teach kids to stutter to understand the genesis of stuttering by stressing them, and all of this culminated in the view that research is too risky and dangerous. People need protection from it.

We had a history of protectionism. It was one of these things where you’d have to be insane or inane to be a research subject. Who would want to do that? Look at what happens. People die and they get mistreated and so forth.

Probably around the time just before COVID, we were seeing a shift. It is part of the shift that is represented by MAGA and MAHA, and that is the rise of a notion of “I want more liberty and I want more ability to make my own choices.”

Today we don’t see people demanding protectionism. What we see is them demanding access. What you’re seeing in policy is more ability to give people the right to try things and more ability to say things to people. It may be very risky, but if you were to do it, we’re going to try and make that possible.

Trump is very proud of his efforts in what’s called the “right to try” space. Many states have enacted laws to try and allow people to do this. You can see special laws here and around the world to give people access to stem cells. The therapy, I think, doesn’t really have much evidence for much of anything except maybe, I don’t know, bone marrow transplants or something. But, but they’re using it for arthritis and down syndrome and autism, and who knows? The justification is “Your choice, your decision.” It’s an interesting shift.

There is a popular push, especially in the U.S., to let people take more risk, to let people take informed risks, and to let them do it. Some of the things we see today. You put them in front of an IRB 25 years ago; there is no way that they happen. Just no way.

 

IPM: Why have vaccines become so divisive?

Caplan: Vaccines depend upon a moral framework of public health, and public health ethics relies on a duty to your neighbor. It relies on an obligation to the community. It isn’t just about your choice. It isn’t just about freedom. It’s about responsibility. When it comes to vaccination, you have a responsibility to ensure that your neighbor’s newborn, who has no immune system and cannot be infected, or the child who has an immune disease and lacks an immune system or has undergone a transplant, or your grandmother, whose immunity is very weak, does not die from the flu, COVID, or something else.

What bioethics failed to do is articulate public health ethics. That’s what mandates are about—restrictions on liberty. That’s what quarantine is about—restrictions on freedom of movement. If you don’t see a duty to others, you’re not going to go along with any of this.

We have within the MAHA movement a real overemphasis on liberty all the time. The surgeon general of Florida said he was going to do away with all vaccine mandates for kids. That’s a bad ethic for public health. You do it that way, and you’re going to have no problem. You can drive drunk as you want anywhere you want to go and speed all you like.

There are libertarian people who would go for these things. They don’t want any government intrusion. I think it’s wrong. I think Thomas Hobbes would say you’re going to have a life that’s nasty, brutish and short if you don’t have some community ethic around in addition to choice. John Stuart Mill, who was actually a big believer in liberty, said, “Your freedom to swing your arm ends at the tip of my nose.” You can’t harm me by your choices. That’s how I say vaccination is. It’s part of the fact that we’re interconnected, that some things we do will hurt others if we don’t limit them, restrict them, and so on. In emergencies we’d have a giant plague. 

Their old argument had always been vaccines aren’t safe. Today it’s about freedom. “I’m not against vaccines,” says RFK Jr. “It’s your choice.” My argument is, “Is that your choice?” If you’re in the middle of an epidemic or a pandemic, it is public health’s duty to get you all vaccinated to make this thing go away. They’re wrapped totally around the liberty and autonomy values framework and very successfully in the current climate.

The way one other group comes in is through a spokesperson, who at this point represents what I’ll call “communitarianism,” which is about caring for one’s neighbor. Ironically, it’s the Pope—both the previous one and the current one—who speaks out about AI, while the previous one focused on encouraging people to feel duties and obligations toward the weak, the poor, the vulnerable, and migrants and immigrants. Religion was ironically seen as the enemy of medicine. Now it’s providing the moral foundation and is one of the few places doing it for public health interventions.

I don’t think the public gets what public health requires, what it needs, and why it obliges them to do things they don’t normally want to do, which—okay, I understand that I didn’t like being locked in my house either, but that’s been a fear.

One other one is what I’m going to call these eugenics claims. They keep floating around that certain races are inferior or Mexicans are bringing us disease, or there are countries that are “[expletive] countries,” as the President has said, or even some of our tech bro people like Musk insisting that we have to keep an eye on breeding better children so that AI doesn’t overtake us and so on. There is really bad science behind eugenics, and I worry about it being all over the place.

 

IPM: What will become a hot moral battleground in the future?

Caplan: Everybody expects that the next 10, 20 years will be AI and its incorporation into healthcare, but I don’t think so. Weirdly, incorporating AI stuff into healthcare is, I think, on the whole, pretty useful. It lets you handle a lot of data, get information quickly, and reduces errors. AI skinning or AI surgery or whatever can do certain things better than the human eye or hand.

It’s not that there are no issues. It could turn out to be a huge problem as to whether we can believe any information on the internet or anything anybody posts; that’s a problem, but not within healthcare. I’m going to say “neuroscience,” and I’m going to say “modification of the brain.”

We are learning quite a bit about how the brain works, and right now we are still in the early stages of using needles to control parkinsonism, obsessive-compulsive disorder, or even obesity. That area is going to expand rapidly, raising many questions about how much you can change the brain and still be you, and about the reversibility of some of these changes.

 

IPM: How will history look back on this period of medical ethics?

Caplan: I think this period will be seen as the dark ages, where science was scrubbed. People were fired for legitimate work, not political reasons. That our history was rewritten to remove important examples of racism in science and medicine. Misogyny. I think we’re in a really miserable period of anti-intellectualism, again, partly spun out of COVID and its disappointments and frustrations. I do think we’re in bad times.

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Reduced serum cortisol, IGF-1, GLP-1, and T3 levels in medication-free children and adolescents with obsessive–compulsive disorder: a case–control study

IntroductionObsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD) frequently emerges during childhood and adolescence and has been associated with alterations in multiple neurobiological systems. Neuroendocrine pathways involved in stress regulation, neurodevelopment, metabolic signaling, and thyroid function interact closely to influence brain circuits implicated in OCD. However, studies simultaneously examining several neuroendocrine parameters in pediatric OCD remain limited.MethodsThis case–control study included 52 medication-free children and adolescents with OCD and 42 healthy controls aged 8–17 years. Psychiatric diagnoses were established using the Schedule for Affective Disorders and Schizophrenia for School-Age Children—Present and Lifetime Version (K-SADS-PL) according to DSM-5 criteria. Obsessive–compulsive symptom severity was assessed using the Children’s Yale–Brown Obsessive Compulsive Scale (CY-BOCS). Anxiety and depressive symptoms were evaluated using the Screen for Child Anxiety Related Emotional Disorders (SCARED) and the Children’s Depression Inventory (CDI), respectively. Serum levels of adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH), cortisol, growth hormone (GH), Insulin-like growth factor-1 (IGF-1), Glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1), relaxin-3 (RLN-3), triiodothyronine (T3), and thyroid-stimulating hormone (TSH) were measured using ELISA. Group differences were examined using covariance-based models controlling for age, sex, BMI percentile, anxiety (SCARED), and depressive symptoms (CDI).ResultsInitial analyses showed that children and adolescents with OCD had significantly lower serum levels of cortisol, IGF-1, GLP-1, and T3 compared with healthy controls. These differences remained significant after controlling for age, sex, BMI percentile, and the SCARED and CDI total score, with adjusted analyses showing lower levels of cortisol (p = 0.003), IGF-1 (p = 0.013), GLP-1 (p = 0.017), and T3 (p = 0.015) in the OCD group. Correlation analyses did not reveal significant associations between biochemical parameters and OCD symptom severity after correction for multiple comparisons.DiscussionThese findings suggest that pediatric OCD may be associated with alterations in several neuroendocrine pathways rather than isolated changes within a single hormonal system. Further longitudinal studies are needed to better clarify the biological basis and clinical significance of these findings.

Tics and OCD: Why Treatments Differ and Ways to Support Your Kids

by Dr. Christine Conelea and Dr. Adrienne Manbeck

Tics, compulsions, and obsessions are part of many people’s everyday lives. As clinicians and researchers at the University of Minnesota Tic and Compulsivity Lab (MnTiC), we see people living with different, unique combinations of these symptoms that can feel interconnected. There are some broad differences between tics, obsessions, and compulsions, but it’s important to note that they do overlap and that a person can have all of these things at the same time. Still, disentangling symptoms in order to provide effective treatment can sometimes be challenging. 

Tics and compulsions are similar in that they both involve movements that are repetitive and difficult for the person to control. Research has shown that overlapping genetic, neurological, and psychological factors contribute to both experiences. Because of this, researchers and clinicians consider both tics and compulsions to be on the “obsessive-compulsive spectrum.” However, there are important differences in treatment and in how loved ones can provide support.

Behaviors

Tics are sudden, repetitive, involuntary movements or sounds that are usually very brief.   Common tics include rapid or hard eye blinking, facial scrunching, throat clearing or sniffing. In our studies, we have found that people with tics have an average of 8 tics per minute. 

Many individuals with tics experience an urge right before they tic. This urge can feel like tension, an itch or pressure that typically goes away after the tic occurs. Tics tend to   wax and wane over time. Compulsions are often more rule bound or rigid and are driven by a thought. Common compulsions include checking, counting, washing and reordering. They tend to be longer, smooth movements or sequences of movements. They’re linked to very specific situations, triggers, or thoughts to prevent something bad from happening or to relieve anxiety.

Why Treatments Differ

Although tic disorders and OCD sometimes look similar on the surface (repetitive movements can occur in both), they are different disorders. Subjectively speaking, tics can feel like a “body itch” while compulsions might feel like a “brain itch.” Though they may be very connected for some people, what works for one won’t necessarily work for the other. 

In general, we often take a less interventionist approach to tic disorders because tics may not be inherently harmful. On the other hand, because compulsions work to reinforce obsessive thoughts and provide escape from non-harmful but unpleasant feelings, we often intervene with OCD as soon as possible. As clinicians working with children and teens, we want to help kids learn to be brave, learn that they can tolerate distress associated with anxiety, and learn that OCD doesn’t get to make their decisions for them. 

Watchful Waiting

In general, OCD will not get better on its own. If a parent notices symptoms associated with distress or impairment, taking action of some kind is often the best approach. If tics aren’t causing problems for a child, it might be best to monitor. If tics become painful, start to bother your child, or in some other way cause harm, that might be the time to pursue treatment. The American Academy of Neurology refers to this as “watchful waiting” and sees it as an appropriate treatment, in some cases, for tics.

Tips for Providing Support

People with tic disorders face high stigma and discrimination compared to the general population. Tics are often hyper-visible and poorly understood. For OCD, stigma is more likely to emerge from public messaging rather than hypervisibility. The general public talks about OCD in a highly stereotyped way that misses a lot of people’s actual experiences with OCD and can trivialize symptoms. 

For both OCD and tic disorders, parents can help support their child by collaboratively developing a reward structure for hard work in therapy.

For tic disorders, research has shown that situational factors have an important role in influencing tics, including what a person is doing, who is around them, and how they are feeling. Most people can identify situational factors that make their tics better or worse. Some factors frequently associated with tic exacerbation are fatigue, social events, and starting school in the fall. Stress, frustration, or anxiety-provoking events can make it harder for the brain to inhibit tics. Events frequently reported to coincide with tic reductions include social interactions with familiar people, situations in which the individual is a passive participant or deeply focused on a task, and leisure activities. 

Because tics are so reactive to situational factors, one of the best ways to provide support is to create tic-neutral environments. This means eliminating intended or unintended consequences related to the tics, such as minimizing reactions to tics or changes to activities because of tics. We frame this as, “focusing on the person instead of the tics.” Tic neutrality can also help children feel better about tics since they can’t control them. 

For OCD, minimizing parent accommodation, parents helping kids avoid anxiety-provoking things, can be helpful. Parents can help their kids by reducing accomodation and encouraging their children to be brave and face their fears in manageable, developmentally-appropriate ways. 


About the Authors:

Christine Conelea, PhD is an Associate Professor in the Department of Psychiatry & Behavioral Sciences at the University of Minnesota, a licensed clinical psychologist, and the director of the MnTiC Lab. Dr. Conelea’s research interests include Tourette Syndrome/tic disorders, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), and anxiety disorders. She is particularly interested in understanding how the brain, environment, and psychosocial factors interact to impact symptoms and treatment outcomes.

Adrienne Manbeck, PhD, is a postdoctoral fellow in the MnTiC Lab. Dr. Manbeck earned her doctorate in clinical psychology at the University of Minnesota and completed her pre-doctoral internship at Allegheny General Hospital in Pittsburgh, PA. Dr. Manbeck’s research aims to better understand the development, maintenance, and treatment of OCD and anxiety disorders across the lifespan, with a particular emphasis on the impact of societal stressors on these disorders, including the ways in which societal stressors impact symptom severity, access to high-quality treatment, and impact of treatment on symptoms.


More Reading:

Micali, N., Heyman, I., Perez, M., Hilton, K., Nakatani, E., Turner, C., & Mataix-Cols, D. (2010). Long-term outcomes of obsessive–compulsive disorder: Follow-up of 142 children and adolescents. British Journal of Psychiatry, 197(2), 128–134. 

Conelea, C.A., Woods, D.W., Zinner, S.H. et al. The Impact of Tourette Syndrome in Adults: Results from the Tourette Syndrome Impact Survey. Community Ment Health J 49, 110–120 (2013).

Tourette Association of America Tourette Awareness Month resources

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The post Tics and OCD: Why Treatments Differ and Ways to Support Your Kids appeared first on International OCD Foundation.

Centering People, Centering Stories: Folklore as an Unlikely Ally in the OCD Misdiagnosis Crisis

By: Rebecca Bernstein, MA Folklore

The International OCD Foundation’s (IOCDF) recent landmark white paper reveals more than 80% of OCD cases in America remain undiagnosed (International OCD Foundation, 2025). Considering the size of this clinical challenge, it might seem odd to suggest that a small, humanities-based field like folklore— yes, folklore — has any role to play in the solution. As someone who studies OCD personal narratives (stories people tell about their lived experiences), my research suggests otherwise. In a situation that invokes the feeling of all-hands-on-deck, the tools and perspectives of this field may offer more benefit than we might initially give it credit for.

Folklore is the study of informal, creative communication. Dr. Lynn McNeill describes it as anything people “say, do, make, or believe” (McNeill, 2013). Folklore includes everything you’d think of (quilts, traditional music, fairy tales) and a lot of things you wouldn’t (occupational culture, gossip, internet memes.) We find examples of folklore everywhere. It’s in our holidays and our hobbies, our food and our fads, our jokes and our grieving. Folklorists study the infinite ways people express themselves in daily life. This, in turn, helps us better understand the cultural realities in which they live. And because what we “say, do, make, or believe” describes most of human behavior, the folkloric lens can be an indispensable one with which to investigate the world.

The benefit of studying how people express themselves is obvious when we recognize that in mental health, conversation and narrative are the primary tools we use to give and receive care. OCD isn’t just a diagnosis. It’s also a fundamentally creative experience. (Creative things don’t necessarily have to be beautiful, pleasing, or even wanted. They just have to be new and meaningful.) (Dictionary.com, 2023). Although ego-dystonic, extraordinary beliefs and elaborate rituals are hallmark features of OCD. When sufferers discuss their experiences, they are naturally inclined to do so through their own personal and cultural lenses. Therefore, descriptions of OCD vary infinitely. If the issue is our failure to recognize OCD when it presents itself, an approach designed to make sense of something as messy as human expression may offer insights that quantitative research methods still struggle to obtain.

How Folklorists Research

Just like in biomedical research, the research methods folklorists use matter. Our goal is to better understand people and their communities. That means we strategically build relationships, listen deeply, and intentionally embrace the complexity of those we talk to.

When I started researching OCD narratives, I wanted to know: What were the internal realities like for people who lived with this illness? What made their stories distinct? And how might those stories be connected? One of the biggest challenges I faced in my fieldwork was the potential for my participants to self-censor. As someone who also lives with OCD, I knew all too well the role shame and fear could play in the choice to fully share one’s reality with others. Using both field-tested approaches and my own lived knowledge, I conducted interviews with people with OCD, approaching them in a way I hoped would ease interviewees into difficult conversations:

  • I provided anonymity. I held all interviews on Zoom, where participants were free to keep their cameras off. I also assigned each one an alphanumeric signifier (A1, B2, etc.) in my writing.
  • I emphasized the importance of story. Although I asked specific questions, I also allowed participants to go off topic and engage in two-way conversation. The story was the point.
  • I used the “kitchen table” interview method. Based on the work of Carl Lindahl, this method tries to recreate the intimacy of two individuals talking around a kitchen table. It discourages framing the interviewer as an objective party, recognizes storytellers as experts in their own experiences, and suggests that interviewers only ask questions they themselves would be willing to answer (Lindahl, 2012).
  • I disclosed. My choice to openly discuss my own OCD diagnosis with interviewees allowed conversations to proceed with a certain warmth and vulnerability.
  • I emphasized participants’ humanity. I treated each participant as a full individual rather than just a source of information. This meant I worked on a model of enthusiastic consent. It also meant I asked them for feedback on my writing to ensure I portrayed their experiences accurately.
  • I compensated participants well. Each received a $100 gift card.

The Results

The universal theme I discovered during these interviews was a profound concern with social isolation. Every single participant mentioned this issue. Interviewees shared how OCD made it difficult for them to maintain relationships and how challenging it was to hide their illness from others. They also recalled their joy and gratitude when discussing moments in which they felt understood.

Their narratives also contained four other common themes:

1.) Logic and patterns of personal concern. Participants often discussed their particular obsessions and compulsions, and the influence those specific thoughts and behaviors had on their daily lives.

2.) Issues of negotiation. People talked about navigating certain types of conflicts as a result of their illness. These conflicts generally fell into two categories: self-negotiation and existential negotiation. In the first, people struggled with the desire to take their thoughts and urges seriously despite knowing they didn’t make sense. In the second, they wrestled with their relationships to the divine.

3.) Positive approaches to the illness. Many interviewees made a point to mention the silver linings they saw in being sick. They noted how OCD made them safer, more empathetic, or provided them with particular skills. Others discussed productive choices they’d made despite living with such a debilitating condition.

4.) Interactions with medical systems. Participants talked about their experiences as patients. For some, dealing with doctors, therapists, and other health professionals helped them understand their experience or relieved their suffering. For others, these encounters were confusing, unhelpful, or even traumatizing.

It’s important to note these themes represent a truly broad range of content. Not every story included every theme, and within those themes, the specific details I heard varied as much as the individuals themselves.

Implications

Say you were to hear four stories: one about someone’s preferred cleaning routine, one about someone’s waning belief in God, one about a good decision made in a difficult circumstance, and one about a doctor’s visit. It’s unlikely you’d consider these stories connected. And yet the data shows they are. The fact that stories with dramatically different content can reflect the same illness highlights the way OCD can remain elusive and camouflaged.

The problem with recognizing these stories as OCD stories isn’t just the variation in content. It’s also in how others hear them. In folklore, we don’t just study cultural expressions. We also study how they move from person to person. “Tellable narratives” travel easily. Both speakers and listeners understand what a certain type of story should sound like and the meaning it’s supposed to convey. If I tell you a tale about a persecuted young woman who escapes a bad home life and marries a prince, you can probably guess you’ve heard Cinderella. If we’re both excited that she went from rags to riches, we share an understanding that her journey is a positive one. In contrast, an “untellable narrative” hits some kind of barrier. If you’ve never heard Cinderella before or think the stepmother is actually the hero, my meaning in telling you the story gets lost. Untellable narratives can be misinterpreted.

This misalignment between the stories people tell and the ones listeners expect to hear happens all the time. We’ve all said things misunderstood by others. Sometimes this process is harmless; other times it results in difficult consequences. Dr. Kristiana Willsey writes about veterans who censor themselves in front of civilian audiences. Because civilians usually only expect to hear tales of “war heroes” or “PTSD survivors,” veterans often choose not to tell the full and complicated stories of their service experiences (Willsey, 2015). Dr. Amy Shuman and Carol Bohmer discuss the case of rejected asylum seekers. If asylum applicants don’t tell their stories of oppression and escape in a way that fits immigration officials’ expectations of what a traumatic asylum story should look like, their applications get denied (Shuman & Bohmer, 2016). If we consider just how different any two OCD stories can be and add the public assumption that OCD is an illness of specific doings (hand washing, checking locks) rather than tellings, it highlights just how difficult it is for most of these narratives to get heard, and heard correctly.

Patient/practitioner interactions can be particularly vulnerable to this type of miscommunication. The problem with considering OCD as just a medical issue is that most people don’t think of their lives as medical events. Practitioners enter the room ready to make sense of problems in clinical terms. Patients enter with stories. They share their concerns in a way that cannot be easily separated from their personal frames of reference or cultural understandings of life. Practitioners are often taught to mistrust the details that emerge from these narratives, to kindly but efficiently work around them in order to do their jobs. But for patients, these details are how they make meaning. If misdiagnoses also occur during these interactions, it’s worth taking a closer look at what’s being lost in translation.

Folklore ultimately offers the promise of new solutions to old problems. It allows us to reconsider how we listen to patients, collect data, and address communication issues— all clear benefits in the fight for better diagnostic care. It is also equipped to help us make sense out of the lived reality of OCD— perhaps uniquely so. I see folklore as an exciting potential ally to traditional research and clinical spaces. My hope is that this partnership can help us work more effectively toward our common goals: a better understanding of OCD, and quicker ease for its sufferers.

Works Cited

Dictionary.com. (2023). Creativity. In Random House Unabridged Dictionary. Random House, Inc. https://www.dictionary.com/browse/creativity.

International OCD Foundation. (2025). America’s OCD care crisis: National findings on the failure of effective OCD treatment to research patients. International OCD Foundation. https://iocdf.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/Full-Report-Americas-OCD-Care-Crisis-12-9-2025.pdf.

Lindahl, C. (2012). Legends of Hurricane Katrina: The right to be wrong, survivor-to- survivor storytelling, and healing. The Journal of American Folklore, 125 (496), 139–176. https://doi.org/10.5406/jamerfolk.125.496.0139.

McNeill, L. (2013). Folklore rules: A fun, quick, and useful introduction to the field of academic folklore studies. Utah State University Press. https://muse.jhu.edu/book/27822.

Shuman, A. & Bohmer, C. (2016). The stigmatized vernacular: Political asylum and the politics of visibility/recognition. In D. Goldstein & A. Shuman (Eds.), The stigmatized vernacular: Where reflexivity meets untellability. Indiana University Press.

Willsey, K. (2015). Falling out of performance: Pragmatic breakdown in veterans’ storytelling. In T.J. Blank & A. Kitta (Eds.), Diagnosing folklore: Perspectives on disability, health and trauma. University Press of Mississippi.

The post Centering People, Centering Stories: Folklore as an Unlikely Ally in the OCD Misdiagnosis Crisis appeared first on International OCD Foundation.

Does the phubbing scale measure the same construct across sexes? Evidence from a Nigerian sample

IntroductionPhubbing is associated with excessive use of digital technologies, and the Phubbing Scale (PS) is widely used to measure it. The PS may be influenced by cultural variations, so it is advisable to validate it before applying it in a new cultural context. Phubbing has emerged as a construct of interest in Nigeria, yet no validation studies for the PS have been conducted in this population.MethodsTo address this gap, the PS, along with scales measuring technological addictions and digital life balance, was administered to 396 Nigerian university students (18 to 25 years old; 80.6% female). Confirmatory Factor Analysis was used to test two 10-item models and one 8-item model. The best-fitting model was subsequently tested. Internal and external validity, and measurement invariance across sexes were assessed.ResultsThe 8-item correlated two-factor model (PS-8) showed the best results. For PS-8, internal and external validity, and strict measurement invariance across sexes were supported based on global fit indices. However, parameter estimates suggested potential sex-related differences in the construct. In females, factor loadings and the correlation between factors were adequate, whereas in males several items of Factor 2 showed low loadings, and the correlation between factors was negligible.ConclusionIn conclusion, the PS-8 appears suitable for measuring phubbing in this population, although potential sex-related differences should be considered. These differences may stem from psychometric limitations in the Smartphone Obsession factor items and/or from variations in how the PS construct manifests across sexes, which could affect interventions or comparative studies. Considering the limitations of the study, future research will be necessary to corroborate these findings.

The many manifestations of magical thinking: a systematic review

Magical thinking (MT) involves beliefs that thoughts or actions can influence events in unrealistic ways. While MT is integral to obsessive compulsive disorder, and reflected in the cognitive features of schizophrenia, it is observable across the general population in various forms. Given its prevalence and potential relevance to a range of psychiatric conditions, understanding more about what may predispose an individual to MT, and how it may in some cases culminate in psychological distress or dysfunction would be helpful. This paper reports a systematic review of studies investigating MT, encompassing both magical ideation and thought-action fusion specifically, across the disciplines of psychiatry and psychology, to shed further light on the likely predisposing factors and behavioural consequences of MT, its potential neurobiological underpinnings, and role in psychiatric symptomatology. After exclusions, 191 studies were identified that explored MT in association with a diverse array of secondary topics, from gambling compulsions to childhood trauma, within both clinical and non-clinical samples, across a range of cultural contexts. On an intra-individual level, MT demonstrates numerous cognitive and emotional correlates, and on a societal level it may influence both social custom and religious tradition. A synthesis of the available evidence uncovers unexplored relationships with social cognition and mental health, and future research investigating its emerging relationships with stress, mood and social connection, may uncover functions beyond those exhibited by a simple marker of psychopathology.
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