Six Months On – A System in Collapse

The headlines this week are alarming. In NSW, over 200 psychiatrists have resigned from their positions. Mental health beds are being closed. Government reforms threaten to make claiming psychological injury under workers’ compensation more complicated. These events are not isolated; they signify a system in decline, one that is particularly failing our young people and those who care for them.

I believe the reason the entire medical system hasn’t collapsed is because of the committed and passionate individuals who show up every day and try to make it work, despite the challenges thrown their way.

Six months ago today, we lost our son, Sam. Since his passing, we’ve been supported by the kindness of friends and family. Our story isn’t just personal; it reflects a national crisis. This is the first of several reflections I’ll be sharing. I hope they ignite the conversations and actions our young people so urgently need.

Currently, nearly two in five young Australians are experiencing mental ill-health. That’s not a trend. That’s a crisis. Government data reveals that rates have surged from 26% in 2007 to almost 40% by 2023. Anxiety and depression now account for nearly half of the total medical burden among young people aged 10–24. It’s not just that more young people are struggling; it’s that the world they’re growing up in is making that struggle even more difficult.

And far too often, this ends in tragedy. As I shared in my last post, the suicide rate among young Australians is devastating. However, it’s not just a personal tragedy; it highlights a systemic failure. In 2021, we lost 402 young people to suicide, surpassing the number lost to car accidents. One in three deaths in this age group is now attributed to suicide. For every life lost, countless others are navigating profound pain, often in silence. Hospitalisation rates for self-harm are highest among teenagers. These aren’t merely numbers; these are sons, daughters, siblings, and friends.

What we’re witnessing isn’t merely personal; it’s structural. The mental health system in Australia is not designed to meet the needs of today’s youth. Waitlists, numerous referrals, and closed doors characterise many experiences of navigating the care system. Fewer than half of young people with a mental illness receive any professional support. And when they do seek help, the barriers are often too high: months-long waits, unaffordable care, and stigma that makes it difficult to speak up at all.

A 2024 report found that fewer than one in four people received the help they needed when they required it. The AMA described the system as a 'nightmare': underfunded, overburdened, and failing the most vulnerable. There simply aren’t enough youth-focused services, especially outside major cities. Services like Headspace are attempting to bridge the gap, but even they are overwhelmed. Many young people still don’t feel safe to say, 'I’m not okay,' and many of them won’t until it’s too late.

We need to call out the barriers.

1. Access: Waitlists, costs, and distance can all make assistance seem unattainable.

2. Stigma: For far too many, particularly young men and women, or individuals from cultures where mental illness is misunderstood, shame often results in silence.

3. Digital world: always on, constantly comparing. Today’s youth navigate the feedback loop of social media. They are consistently measured, visible, and exposed to a deluge of curated lives and anxious content. The outcome? Many can’t switch off and can’t find space just “to be”.

I’ll delve further into the impact of the digital landscape in the coming weeks. But for now, it’s sufficient to say that the system we have wasn’t built for this world. Our services are entrenched in an analog past, while our kids navigate a digital present. The 2020 Productivity Commission called for $2.4 billion a year to transform mental health care. Four years later, far too many of those reforms remain unrealised.

And since this is LinkedIn and we’re expected to discuss business, let’s also consider the economics. Mental ill-health isn’t just a social tragedy; it’s an economic one too. The Productivity Commission estimates the combined cost of mental illness and suicide to the Australian economy at up to $220 billion each year. That’s lost productivity, overwhelmed services, burnout, and the silent cost borne by families and carers. In workplaces, psychological injuries are rising faster than physical ones, with burnout alone costing billions. This isn’t an issue we can address on the margins. It requires serious investment not just for the sake of compassion, but because the cost of inaction is far greater.

This isn’t just an Australian story. Around the world, youth mental health is in crisis. The WHO reports that mental and substance use disorders now account for 13% of the global medical burden among teens. Suicide remains a leading cause of death for 15–19-year-olds in countries as diverse as the UK, US, and Australia. These problems aren’t confined by borders, nor should the solutions be. We can learn from nations that are investing in early intervention, digital-first support, and community-based care. However, we need the political and social will to take action.

In the coming weeks, I’ll explore:

• The Digital Trap: How social media and digital culture are reshaping young minds.

• Outdated Services: How our systems have fallen behind, and ideas about what can be done to address it.

• Media and Messaging: How we fail to meet our kids where they are at, and how the industry in which I’ve worked for decades contributes to the problem.

My son’s story is one of thousands. Yet, it carries a simple message: behind every statistic is a young life, filled with potential, dreams, and pain. If we want to change these numbers, we must change the systems. We need to meet young people where they are at - in their schools, on their social media feeds, and in their struggles - and support the caregivers who walk alongside them. We need to listen and act.

What will Sam’s legacy be? It needs to focus on change, on momentum, and on meeting them where they’re at. I’m not entirely sure what the next steps are or what I need to do tomorrow, but we’re committed to working tirelessly to create a future where no young person feels they have to face their darkness alone.

The image used is one of Sam's beautiful pieces of art - Water Colour Japanese Koi Fish.

If you or someone you know needs support, please reach out. Lifeline is available 24/7 at 13 11 14. Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800. Headspace also offers help tailored to young people. You are not alone.

#mentalhealth