Something happened the other week that should make us all pause.

An FDA advisory panel convened to review the risks of antidepressants — especially SSRIs like Prozac, Zoloft and Lexapro. Though the discussion centered on pregnancy, the panel’s tone revealed a deeper trend: growing skepticism toward psychiatric medications in general. Several panelists voiced concern about long-term effects, and the tenor of the meeting suggested a fundamental question — whether these medications should be used at all.

That kind of framing is not just unbalanced. It’s dangerous.

SSRIs and other psychiatric medications are among the most rigorously studied in modern medicine. They go through years of randomized clinical trials involving thousands of patients and remain under FDA surveillance long after approval. These medications are not experimental. They are foundational tools that have improved — and often saved — the lives of tens of millions.

Do they carry risks? Of course. Every treatment does. And yes, the medical field has a checkered history with overprescription. We’ve seen it with the opioids. Those failures must inform our present choices. But they shouldn’t be used as excuses to deny care. We don’t ban antibiotics because they were once overused. We prescribe them more wisely. The same must be true for psychiatric medications.

Because the alternative — doing nothing — is often fatal.

In the United States, nearly 50,000 people die by suicide every year. Suicide is the second leading cause of death among people ages 10-14 and 25-34. Untreated mental illness contributes to homelessness, incarceration, addiction, unemployment and fractured families. People living with depression, bipolar disorder, PTSD, schizophrenia and ADHD deserve access to care that works.

And what works is often a combination of approaches: medication, psychotherapy, peer support, behavioral tools and community connection. For some, therapy alone is enough. For others, medication is the bridge that allows therapy to take root. And for many, it’s the synergy of both that unlocks long-term recovery.

SSRIs and other antidepressants help people climb out of despair. Stimulants help individuals with ADHD focus and function. Antipsychotics prevent hallucinations and delusions from derailing lives. Mood stabilizers reduce volatility and protect stability. Studies show that individuals who stay on antidepressants for at least six months are 50% less likely to relapse than those who stop prematurely.

Still, many Americans have doubts. Some argue psychiatric medications are overprescribed. Others claim that pharmaceutical companies are pushing pills for profit, or that SSRIs don’t outperform placebos. These concerns deserve thoughtful responses, not dismissal.

The truth is more nuanced: Yes, some medications are overprescribed — but many more are underprescribed or underutilized due to stigma, cost and access barriers. Yes, pharmaceutical companies should be scrutinized, but that doesn’t negate the real-world benefit these medications offer. And yes, some mild depression may respond as well to placebo as to medication — but for moderate to severe depression, anxiety, PTSD and bipolar disorder, the evidence for benefit is strong, consistent and reproducible.

When advisory panels exclude practicing psychiatrists, and when recommendations reflect caution, fear and hyperbole more than clinical reality, care suffers. When misinformation spreads unchecked — online or in official testimony — patients become confused, providers become defensive and the public loses trust.

Let’s not lose sight of the stakes. Behind every policy shift or public statement are real people, trying to get well.

First, we must protect scientific integrity. FDA advisory panels must include practicing psychiatrists, primary care doctors, psychologists and people with lived experience. The broader the perspective, the better the policy. Conflict disclosures should be mandatory. Transparency builds trust.

Second, trust the doctor-patient relationship. Mental health is not one-size-fits-all, and treatment shouldn’t be either. Treatment decisions should be collaborative, informed and rooted in evidence — not shaped by public opinion or political ideology.

Third, expand access to all forms of care. That means enforcing the Mental Health Parity and Addiction Equity Act, which requires insurance coverage for mental health at the same level as physical health. It means growing the mental health workforce, integrating services into schools and primary care and supporting peer programs in every community.

Finally, educate the public. Let people know that mental illness is treatable. That therapy and medication both have value. That seeking help is a sign of strength — not weakness or failure. And that no one should suffer in silence because of stigma or disinformation.

Some critics argue that psychiatric medications are being pushed too hard. That may be true in isolated cases. But the solution is better training, clearer guidelines and careful follow-up — not removing effective treatments from the toolbox. We can be responsible without being restrictive. We can be careful without being cruel.

So when someone asks, “Aren’t these medications risky?” We must answer: “Compared to what?”

Because when the alternative is untreated mental illness — when people are left to struggle alone — the real danger isn’t the medication. It’s doing nothing.

We live in a time of extraordinary progress in mental health. Stigma is lifting. Science is evolving. Patients are speaking out. Tools that once seemed radical — teletherapy, long-acting injectables, wearables, trauma-informed care — are becoming standard. These are victories. We should be building on them, not backing away.

Let’s not allow fear to replace fact. Let’s not let politics crowd out compassion. Behind every prescription or therapy referral is a person. A life. And those lives deserve science-based care, informed choice and, above all, protection.

Policy should protect those lives — not endanger them by politicizing their care.