Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Mainly about social workers

Hi, I’m your biological son . . . - Times Online

This article, originally from the NYT, tells the story of a sperm donor's awkward first meeting with his adult biological son.

The story is of interest, and from my conservative view point, shows the uncomfortable weirdness of sperm donation generally, but especially for men who, like this guy, donated "30 or 40 times".

But the main reason I am posting about it is because of this incidental point. The writer is a family therapist, but describes his life as follows:
At 50, I have never married, never raised any children. And about a month before the call, I had reached a point where I was feeling anxious and socially disconnected, no longer relaxed with my friends and sensing there had to be something more meaningful in my life.
This is entirely consistent with my long standing suspicion that the majority of therapists and social workers do not come to the job with much resembling a normal, stable, happy domestic life. Social workers in particular seem drawn to the job because of an injustice they have suffered in their own life, whether it physical or emotional in nature, and this career is their way of helping others who may be also be suffering.

But this seems to me to be a good reason to exclude such a person from a career in which objectivity can be crucially important, especially when they are making decisions about children and their relationship with parents.

My knowledge of this is purely anecdotal, but I have had friends agree with me that all the social workers they knew were themselves a bit of a worry, to put it mildly. And it is certainly not unusual to read things from time to time, such as this story, which support my suspicions.

I wonder if anyone has ever done any research on this, and whether readers have also met social workers with "baggage".

3 comments:

Caz said...

Social workers definitely have baggage, but I'm not aware of any studies, period. Do they start out with baggage or do they develop baggage because of the nature of the work? Not a job I could do.

Psychologists are a different kettle of fish, generally the most screwed up people you could possibly meet, with ludicrously low level of self-knowledge and emotional intelligence, at least in their own lives. Maybe they help people, but I'm not even convinced of that. They have no idea how to help themselves though. Some are outright fruit-loops.

Psychiatrists, not so much. Perhaps the medical training sorts the screw ups from the good ones.

Steve said...

That's interesting, Caz. I can't say I have met many psychologists at all, and it's interesting to speculate on why most of them want the job. As I said, I guess that many social workers deliberately go into the field with baggage already in place.

I read somewhere recently that psychiatrists are generally not all that well paid, and a bit "looked down upon" as a medical specialty. I find that surprising, because they one of the most challenging types of illness to deal with.

Caz said...

Well, that is a surprise, since the psychiatric profession does contribute some valuable research, treatments and insights, maybe not a lot, but, hey, it's a field rich with metaphors that we might otherwise not have!

(Although, every time they revise their "bible" they set the bar ever-lower for conditions, thus ensuring that, in the not distant future, every person on earth will have a certified mental illness. That's an appalling trend, and will do serious damage to the profession.)

Psychiatrists also train for about 14 years, or something absurd like that, so the lack of respect certainly can't be due to any perceived lack of effort or dedication. Heck, you can become a brain surgeon in less time than it takes to become a psychiatrist.

I think you may be right, intuitively at least: how often do you read some redemptive story - a former prisoner, or child abuse victim, or beaten wife, or victim of some random violence, and they've all turned their lives around by "helping others" - yep, social work beckons, with monotonous regularity.

I always cringe, as I suspect (again, intuitively) that it's horribly unhealthy for all parties, themselves, and those they ostensibly seek to help.