My Take

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A Christian Science Monitor book reviewer describes this summer's crop of new books as "a tad schizophrenic."

An LA Weekly movie critic calls the film "Imaginary Heroes" a "schizophrenic mess."

Sports Afield contends that, during hunting season, "bull elk are schizophrenic and behave as three completely different beasts."
 
The inappropriate and inaccurate use of psychiatric terminology in journalism is so widespread, you stumble over examples constantly.
 
I'd like to suggest we relegate psychiatric terms to stories about mental illness.
 
Think that's nitpicky? I don't. Using psychiatric terms correctly boosts our credibility (the ability to distinguish between a confused plot and a mental illness, for example) as well as accuracy, which I'm pretty sure we're supposed to value.
 
Think about it this way. We try to avoid using atomic metaphors (fallout and the like) when not talking about things nuclear, because overuse of such terms clouds -- and even changes -- their meaning.
 
The same holds true here.
 
Consider schizophrenia. It's a devastating illness with a range of symptoms that does not include the nebulous conditions of not knowing your own mind or being of two minds.
 
How absurd do we make schizophrenia out to be when we suggest bull elk suffer from it during hunting season?
 
We've long been criticized (and have criticized ourselves) for mishandling mental health coverage -- ignoring the issue on one hand, sensationalizing it on the other. In that sense, media have accurately reflected society, which has historically addressed mental illness with silence and shame.
 
But in recent years, people with mental illness, their families, their doctors and even governmental agencies have sought to remove the stigma of mental illness -- and media coverage of the issue has begun to change. Indeed, we've devoted whole series to mental-health issues, and directed substantial resources toward mental-health coverage.
 
But this new approach doesn't appear to reflect true reform. As journalists and as a society, we seem to still be of two minds -- not "schizophrenic" -- about whether mental illness is a medical condition or a character flaw. That's at the root of stigma, I think: the notion that mental illness is a sign of weakness -- the inability to will ourselves well -- rather than a physiological condition affected by environmental factors.
 
I think fear is part of the reason we continue to misuse psychiatric terminology. (Not that I'm discounting laziness. That's a factor in all reporting, all the time.) Mental illness is complex, multi-faceted, and, above all, frightening. Undoubtedly, our own coverage sometimes strikes way too close to home.
 
When we misuse psychiatric terms, we strip them of power, turning mental illness into something almost silly. After all, if movies, books and -- heaven help us -- a bull elk can be schizophrenic, how bad can schizophrenia really be?
 
The answer, of course, is: Pretty doggone bad.
 
Mental illness should be examined -- repeatedly, respectfully and with great care. But it shouldn't be invoked in a movie review, unless it's the topic of the movie in question.
 
To start with, just remember that uncertainty and contrariness do not equal schizophrenia; excessive energy and excitement don't constitute mania; and a bad mood (even a really bad mood) isn't depression.