Since its debut in 2005, Intervention has cast a spotlight on drug and alcohol addiction.
The Emmy-winning show has helped many people, but it's not without its share of controversy.
This is the disturbing untold truth of Intervention.
The type of intervention used by the professionals on Intervention is called the Johnson Model.
Created in the 1970s by an Episcopal priest, Dr. Vernon Johnson, the model employs family
members to write personal letters to their suffering loved ones. As seen in the show,
these letters highlight the consequences of the individual's addiction and present ultimatums
for the user.
"Jade, if you don't accept this help, I'll have no choice, but to tell you you have to
leave our home."
Though this style of intervention is well-known, largely because of the show, some experts
consider it outdated. Critics suggest the Johnson Model results in a high number of
addicted individuals agreeing to enter treatment, but the number of early exits and relapses
are also high. According to Psychology Today, the confrontational, aggressive, and combative
tactics employed by the Johnson Model may coerce individuals to enter treatment without
the necessary, quote, "internalized motivation to quit."
Alternatively, more modern approaches are available to the families and support workers
trying to help people suffering from addiction. Motivational Interviewing, for example, is
a strategy used to help the individual find the internal motivation necessary to enter,
complete, and commit to the long-term recovery process.
For sharing their lives with Intervention and the public, participants receive some
of the best treatment money can buy — a 90-day stay at a reputable rehabilitation
center. According to the Daily Beast, the appropriate center is chosen by the show's
facility liaison, and the treatment prices range from $50,000 to $120,000. But even in
this upper echelon of treatment centers, issues still arise.
According to Vice, A Sober Way Home, a now-closed for-profit facility out of Arizona featured
in several episodes, reportedly emphasized a policy of, quote, "keeping heads on beds"
above all else, rather than taking in only qualified patients. This led to trouble in
2011, when a patient was reportedly admitted to the center for alcohol issues and bulimia.
Despite assuring his family it could treat both disorders, A Sober Way Home later revealed
it was unable to properly treat his eating disorder.
The patient was then referred to another center in California called Morningside. According
to a former Morningside employee, despite anti-kickback laws, these two facilities were,
quote, "making referrals back and forth," resulting in bonuses for each.
Vice reports that the patient was later transferred to a third facility without his family's knowledge,
where he ultimately went into cardiac arrest and died.
One of the concerns critics raise about Intervention is that participants may be pressured into
treatment rather than freely choosing to pursue help.
"Will you please get help now, in treatment?"
"No."
According to several studies, that choice could be the difference between relapse and
long-term recovery because experts believe there is a correlation between success and
a, quote, "internal desire to reduce or change addictive behavior."
Alan Cudmore, a program consultant with the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in
Ontario, argues that the coercion methods employed on Intervention indicate how seriously
the on-show experts, quote, "misunderstand how human beings change," asserting that:
"...ambivalence is the normal human response to the pressure to change."
Citing the work of clinical psychologist and researcher Bill Miller, Cudmore argues that
when ultimatums and threats are used in interventions, the results can be detrimental.
While it may appear that the Johnson Model has produced beneficial results on the show,
clinical trials have shown these methods to be ineffective. According to a study by Miller
and William Lee White:
"Four decades of research have failed to yield a single clinical trial showing efficacy of
confrontational counseling, whereas a number have documented harmful effects, particularly
for more vulnerable populations."
When a person struggling with addiction agrees to treatment, he or she should be fully committed
to the entire recovery process in order to be successful.
"Will you go to treatment today?" "Yeah, I'll accept that."
Attending an all-expenses paid trip to rehab without actually desiring to become sober
creates the risk for more than just an early exit and a depleted will to quit in the future.
For many, relapsing can be fatal.
Drug abuse counselor Dave Malloy told the Daily Beast:
"People who die of overdoses, if you look at their history, they were most likely recently
in rehab or jail."
According to The Treatment Center:
"Whether someone spends a month or six months without a habitual drug, the body starts to
change. As normal processes resume, the brain loses its tolerance for the ever-increasing
opioid doses that often precede rehabilitation."
If the patient later relapses, the dose they were once used to taking may now prove deadly.
Because of this, it is vital that a person entering treatment is prepared for the challenges
both during and after rehabilitation.
Though most professionals on Intervention treat their subjects with respect, there have
been moments that seem unnecessarily exploitative, making it appear as though the series' basic
structure is designed to value the negative more than the positive.
According to Michael Walsh, president of the National Association of Addiction Treatment
Providers, the most popular episodes of the show are the ones where we see families and
clients at their worst, saying:
"Americans like to see people on fire."
Walsh argues that Intervention strives for "shock value" over professionalism. He points
to an episode in which a past sexual assault is brought up during the intervention for
no apparent reason, saying:
"The family didn't need to know this, and I certainly didn't need to know it watching
it on national television. A licensed professional shouldn't have done this."
Intervention is structured in a way that allows the viewing audience to see the consequences
of addiction without experiencing it personally. The vast majority of an episode is focused
on an addict's life falling apart.
"Have I ever lost anything because of drugs or drinking? My license, my wallets, my cell
phone, my girlfriends."
Then, during the final moments, we learn about the recovery. This structure is problematic
for many because it suggests that the recovery — perhaps the hardest part of the journey
— is the easy part.
The road to recovery can be long and extremely challenging. By essentially fast-forwarding
or altogether eliminating this part of the process from the show, Intervention runs the
risk of misleading its audience.
There are other issues as well. Kalamazoo Gazette editor and licensed psychologist Joyce
Pines wrote that securing treatment can be a challenge for many people. While Intervention
pays for a 90-day stay for the show's participants, that length of treatment would be wildly expensive
in real life. She explained:
"Some insurance companies cap residential treatment benefits at 30 days for a person's
lifetime. Typically, people get eight to 15 days of residential services at one time,
either through private insurance or public grants."
Reviewing the rehabilitation rates reported by Intervention producers begs some serious
questions. According to the Daily Beast, the show claimed in 2010 that 130 of its 161 participants
had remained sober — that equates to an 81 percent success rate. Three years later,
that success rate had dropped to 64 percent. Then, in 2015, it was reportedly 55 percent.
While some may look at the decreasing number and see a problem, these rates are exceptional.
"It's been a long time, huh?"
"What year was it?"
"Eight years now."
"That is incredible. Congratulations."
So exceptional, in fact, that they raise eyebrows.
Alcoholics Anonymous, for example, posts success rates of 27 percent within one year, 24 percent
between one and five years, and 13 percent between five and ten years. So it seems odd
that Intervention could achieve such a significantly higher rate of success.
In an interview with Business Insider, showrunner Jeff Weaver argues that Intervention's extraordinary
numbers may be because of the show's structure, which essentially gives participants a, quote,
"head start" on the process. He said:
"When our subjects say yes to treatment, they've just undergone an intense documentary process
where they're asked hard hitting, deeply personal questions about every aspect of their lives."
Yet, Weaver's answer doesn't explain how Intervention tracks its results. The Division on Addictions
reportedly tried to get clarification on the show's tracking process to explore the possibility
that its success rates are, quote, "mistakenly high," but it did not receive a response.
One of the criticisms of Intervention, at least in academic discourse, is how the show
frames addiction in relation to "whiteness." As of 2012, 87 percent of the show's subjects
are primarily white. According to Jessie Daniels, professor of sociology and critical social
psychology at Hunter College and the Graduate Center, CUNY, even when dealing with a person
who is not white,
"The producers of Intervention present a narrative of addiction that is embedded in a white racial frame."
This, Daniels argues, creates a concept of, quote, "wasted whiteness" for the audience.
The over-arching structure of the show is usually the same. The subject grew up in a
happy, usually white, world surrounded by opportunity. Then the happiness disintegrates,
and the opportunities crumble as addiction takes over.
"I'm disappointed in myself a lot more than I am others."
As an article on Hazlitt describes:
"[The subject's] life is ugly, but not so ugly that you turn away. She's sad, but just
sad enough to be engaging. She's her own worst enemy, but not to the extent that she becomes
unsympathetic. As viewers, we get both a sense of superiority in watching her bottom out,
and a sense of satisfaction in watching her get better."
Daniels argues that Intervention not only exploits the picture of the idealized sufferer
— one deserving of rehabilitation and our empathy, but also compounds a bigger issue
by strengthening the imaginary divide between deserving white addicts and the undeserving
"other."
Most episodes of Intervention open with the same line:
"Millions of Americans struggle with addiction. Most need help to stop."
While this may sound plausible, it's actually quite misleading. According to multiple studies,
most recovering addicts do not receive help to achieve sobriety.
In a study done by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, 75 percent
of addicts who reached sobriety did so without any help at all. The other 25 percent received
help, but there is no evidence to suggest they couldn't have recovered without it. According
to Addiction.com:
"Only about 12 percent of people with alcohol dependence ever receive specialty alcohol treatment."
The truth is, the vast majority of people who overcome substance abuse do so through
what is called "spontaneous or natural remission or recovery."
While the opening line on Intervention should not be viewed as particularly harmful, it
might be time for an amendment. Receiving help is certainly welcome for many people
suffering from addiction, but sobriety can be achieved in many different ways, and we
shouldn't discount other avenues of recovery.
If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, please call the Substance Abuse
and Mental Health Administration's 24/7 National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP. That's 1-800-662-4357.