MAARJA VAINO ⟩ The scare tactics in our society have become maniacal

Maarja Vaino, columnist. Photo: Mihkel Maripuu

• The number of people who are unable or unwilling to cope with their lives is increasing steadily.
• What motivation should a young person have to manage their life when future is being taken away.
• This Mental Health Month, the diagnosis should be directed at the frightening social agenda.

October is Mental Health Month, and there is much discussion about mental health issues. In fact, there is so much talk that almost everything seems to be a mental health problem, columnist Maarja Vaino writes.

It is evident that, as with many other things in life, we occasionally swing to extremes also with this matter. Not every fatigue, worry, or absent-mindedness immediately means burnout or a disorder. Humanity is not divided into diagnosed and non-diagnosed individuals. Certain stress experiences are simply a part of life that need to be managed.

But this is probably where the problem lies. The number of people who are unable or unwilling to cope with their lives is steadily increasing. For example, according to a study conducted in the United States over a period of 40 years, the proportion of 30-year-olds living independently has decreased from 83 percent to 64 percent, while the number of married individuals has dropped by nearly half.

I do not know whether such a long-term study has been conducted in Estonia. However, at least the statistics on marriage confirm that our young people here are not rushing to marry, either. Acquiring property is extremely difficult for a young individual or couple – especially when seeking a home loan in a rural area.

In the city, obtaining an apartment or house is often a financially impossible task. A well-paying job is necessary, but inexperienced young people are not readily hired. For Estonians, finding a job has also become increasingly challenging due to the demand for Russian language skills.

This is something that, for various understandable historical reasons, many Estonian youths often do not possess—and why should they? Employers do not demand this in the hope that an educated young person will read Dostoevsky in the original language. Rather, it is to serve the ever-growing Russian-speaking community in their own language. This is a very serious problem that sends a clear message to young Estonians: your nationality and your language as the state language are not respected in your homeland. Your country does not instill confidence in you.

What motivation should a young person feel to cope with their life when their identity and future are at stake? This has been a pressing issue for some time now. Education documents openly emphasize the aim of raising «global citizens» instead of promoting Estonian culture and identity, as mandated by the constitution.

Thus, young Estonians are systematically stripped of the essential sense of belonging—and gradually, their cultural identity. If you belong everywhere, to «the world», then you do not truly belong anywhere. You are rootless and homeless. A drifting element. (One cannot help but recall an old saying that the proletariat has no homeland.)

For years, young people have also been confused about their gender identity. Yes, there have always been individuals who were genuinely born into the wrong body, with chromosomes and body chemistry that cause internal conflict. This issue must be taken seriously, and if someone suffers, they should be helped. But statistically, this is a marginal segment of humanity; it is not a problem that needs to be debated constantly on a generational and global scale.

Instead of finding solutions, the focus has been for years on cultivating the issue, sowing confusion about hormonal imbalances in the minds and souls of teenagers. This «nudging» has led many young people to find safety in being «gender-neutral», fearing that otherwise, someone struggling with gender identity may feel offended.

Those who dare to speak critically on this topic are met with furious accusations of «intolerance». Young people, who lack social capital or self-confidence, are understandably terrified of «offending»—fearing exclusion from «the group». There are an increasing number of topics by which someone, somewhere, feels painfully offended.

The threats of war and climate catastrophe are no less intimidating, echoing like a mantra in the news, on social media, in private conversations, and even in classrooms.

Creating an atmosphere of fear results in voluntary submission. In a climate of anxiety, it is easy to convince people—adults included—that questioning the «only correct» viewpoint endangers everyone, young people, the functioning of society, and the state.

In this increasingly fear-driven world, the wisest choice is often to remain silent, withdrawing into oneself and directing all conflicting feelings and anxieties inward, where their boiling point only continues to rise. The result is a growing prevalence of anxiety disorders, suicides, and other mental health issues among young people.

Juri Lotman described two scenarios in societies that have fallen victim to mass fear. In the first, there is an evident threat, such as a plague or war. In the second, society is gripped by a fear «for which the real causes remain hidden. [---] The object of fear turns out to be a social construct, a product of the semiotic codes through which society encodes itself and the surrounding world.» Lotman mentions the witch hunts of the 16th and 17th centuries as a classic example of such fear. (Juri Lotman, «Fear and Confusion: Essays in Cultural Semiotics,» Varrak, 2007, p. 51.)

These days, we face both types of fear—tangible threats as well as socially constructed ones. A sense of impending catastrophe looms over us, and no one even bothers to explain how real these threats might be. We are simply expected to accept them without questioning them.

However, this dominance of fear and confusion is robbing young people of their faith in the future. It takes away hope for family, home, career, and a good life. It strips them of a sense of belonging, security, and being cared for. The diagnosis this Mental Health Month should not be directed at young people but at the social agenda frightening them.

Among politicians and commentators, it is popular to talk about all that we do «as a society». Perhaps, as a society, we could step back and stop constantly producing apocalyptic scenarios about the imminent collapse of the economy, the dangers of having children, climate catastrophe, and so on.

The impact of this pervasive atmosphere of fear is already manifesting in a classic «fight or flight» response. A significant number of young people plan to leave Estonia; many engage in self-destructive behaviors (another way to cope with fears), and a notable portion are simply paralyzed by fear, frozen in a kind of emotionless half-life in the virtual world.

Yes, as a society, we need to find within ourselves the words of a famous writer: «Mother tries to scare me, but I am not afraid.»