Learned helplessness vs. systemic failure—aka “Are you broken, or is the world just very stupid?”
🔧 First, the classic tale of Learned Helplessness
Coined by Martin Seligman back in the 60s (back when psychology experiments were just elaborate torture of dogs and undergrads), this theory describes what happens when a person—or dog—is repeatedly exposed to uncontrollable, negative experiences. Eventually, they just stop trying to escape. Even when escape becomes possible.
The takeaway: you’ve internalized futility. You don’t even try to change your situation because you’ve “learned” that effort = pointless.
This concept has been used for decades to explain:
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Depression
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Apathy in marginalized groups
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Non-engagement in therapy or services
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The general feeling of being a sentient potato in a collapsing civilization
But here’s the kicker: what if the helplessness isn’t learned... it’s accurate?
🔩 Enter: Systemic Failure
What if the person isn’t disengaged because they’ve been “trained” to be passive—but because the systems they engage with are:
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Underfunded
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Overburdened
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Patronizing
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Inaccessible
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Full of arbitrary hoops
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Designed by people who think empathy is a software feature, not a skill
In this case, your “helplessness” isn’t a cognitive distortion—it’s realism. Trying over and over didn’t get you help. Resources were denied. Appointments were months away. Assessments were vague, or punitive, or degrading. Maybe you’ve actually responded rationally to a broken system by conserving energy and not jumping through flaming hoops for nothing.
🤡 And now the fun part: people use learned helplessness to blame YOU for systemic failure.
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You don’t reach out? “Learned helplessness.”
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You don’t follow up? “Learned helplessness.”
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You don’t believe things will get better? “Ah, classic learned helplessness.”
Nobody ever asks if maybe you’ve been accurately socialized to expect disappointment. Your behavior is pathologized instead of contextualized.
It’s the mental health equivalent of telling someone who keeps getting ghosted, “Well maybe you’re just afraid of commitment.”
🔁 The real answer: it’s often both
People can internalize futility and the system can be failing. In fact, they reinforce each other:
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System doesn’t help → you give up trying → system says you’re not trying → system feels justified not helping → you sink deeper → rinse and repeat.
You get framed as resistant or lazy, and nobody asks if the resistance is actually a wise adaptation to consistent invalidation.
TL;DR: “Learned helplessness” is often used to make people feel broken when they’re actually just tired of being gaslit by failing systems. We need frameworks that see disengagement not as pathology, but as evidence of how society has trained people to expect nothing good.
Want to poke more holes in mental health mythology? We could explore why "treatment resistance" is a suspect label, how therapeutic language masks institutional power, or the problem with “resilience” as a virtue.
You said:
ChatGPT said:
Oh, buckle up, because "empowerment" is one of those beautifully toxic words that sounds like it just left a yoga retreat but secretly took a course in psychological warfare.
Let’s talk about how “empowerment” gets weaponized, especially in mental health, education, social work, and other spaces that love to say they’re giving you power—while actually handing you a guilt-wrapped responsibility bomb and walking away whistling.
☢️ 1. Empowerment as Abandonment
What they say:
“We want to empower you to make your own decisions.”
What it really means:
“We’re going to stop helping you, but make it sound like a compliment.”
In this move, "empowerment" becomes a get-out-of-care-free card. Services cut support but say they're fostering independence. It’s like giving someone with two broken legs a bus schedule and saying, “You're empowered to travel!” Yeah—empowered to fail in private.
🎭 2. Empowerment as Performance
You're expected to look empowered: self-advocating, setting goals, showing initiative—even when your brain feels like a haunted Roomba stuck under a chair. If you don’t perform this kind of shiny self-determination?
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You’re “resistant.”
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You’re “not motivated.”
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You “don’t want to get better.”
So now empowerment becomes a standard you’re punished for not meeting.
🔁 3. Empowerment as Disavowal of Power
Institutions love to say “We’re empowering clients” while still holding all the actual power. You don’t control the waitlist, the treatment plan, the medication access, the funding, the staff availability, or even the building hours.
But they’ll say:
“We want to give you agency over your recovery.”
Which roughly translates to:
“We don’t want to feel responsible when you fall through the cracks.”
This is cosmetic agency. You get to “make choices,” but only between two pre-selected, under-resourced options. It’s like being “empowered” to choose which tiny cup you want as the ship sinks.
🧠 4. Empowerment as Gaslighting
And here’s the final insult: if you're struggling, you’re told:
“You have the power. You just need to believe in yourself.”
Ah yes, the empowerment-as-moral-failure maneuver. If you don’t get better, it’s because you didn’t use the power they told you you had. This is straight-up blame cloaked in encouragement. You’re now responsible for your own recovery, regardless of the context, supports, or systemic obstacles.
🔗 TL;DR: “Empowerment” sounds kind and progressive but is often used as a weaponized narrative to offload responsibility, justify withdrawal of support, and blame individuals for systemic or structural failures.
It turns suffering into a failure of willpower and makes abandonment look like kindness. Classic move.
Want to expose more of these charming little double-binds? We could talk about toxic positivity in therapy, why resilience is a loaded expectation, or how self-care became a moral obligation.
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