4.1 Questionnaire Results
There were 205 responses to the online questionnaire, 162 from participants who visited the self-referral website and accessed the questionnaire via the notification (notification group) and 43 who were SilverCloud users and accessed the questionnaire via the email (email group). A total of 93 participants (45.3%) came from the two university services, 31.2% from the health service and 23.4% from the not-for-profit service. Due largely to the university services, many participants were aged between 18–24 (40%), aside from this there was a balanced spread of age groups represented in the sample. The majority of participants were also female, white, and educated to college or university level, as is typical of service users [
31,
139]; see Table
1 for questionnaire participant characteristics. In terms of the employment question, we used a
“select all that apply” response option to reflect the varied circumstances of each participant, and 37 participants (18.2%) selected more than one option, including 3.4% who were parenting young children or on maternity or paternity leave, and 2% who were caring for the sick or elderly. Of those who only selected one option, the majority were employed 30–50 hours per week (40.5%) or full-time students (19.5%). See Appendix A.11 for full table of employment characteristics.
Responses to the two main research questions were “select all that apply”, so the distribution of answers was accumulative, i.e., for the question “Why did you decide to check out SilverCloud?”, more than half of participants (131/205, 63.9%) selected more than one multiple choice option. This was also true of the question “Why are you unsure about signing up for SilverCloud? ”, where 59.6% of participants (118/198) selected more than one option. This indicates that the reasons people have both for seeking help via the DMHI and for being uncertain about it, are manifold.
Regarding the first question around reasons for considering using the DMHI (see Table
2 for full results), the most prevalent response was
“to feel better” (54.6%), followed closely by
“because my mental health is important to me” (51.2%). Many participants wanted to deal with circumstantial or external stressors, and interestingly 60 participants (29.3%) decided to investigate the DMHI because it was recommended to them. Of the 11 participants (5.4%) who selected the
“other” option and entered free text, responses centered around specific stressful life events or situations (e.g.,
“To cope with an unbearable workload and work environment”), alleviating distress, easy access and self-care (e.g.,
“to give myself better support”).
As the primary research question (around what prevented participants from engaging with the DMHI) was presented slightly differently to the email and notification groups, the results will be displayed separately for each group. For the notification group, the question was
“Why are you unsure about signing up for SilverCloud?”. Of this group, 155/162 participants completed this question (see Table
3 for full results). The most prevalent response to this question was
“I'm not sure how useful it will be”, selected by 59.4% of participants. The two most widely selected responses following on from this centered around perceived ease of use,
“I'm not sure how to use it” (33.5%) and
“I can't decide which program to choose” (32.9%). The option based on self-stigma
(“I should be able to deal with my problems by myself”) was selected by 27.1% of the non-user group. Free text responses to the
“other” option were varied and included reasons related to stigma and apprehension about seeking help (e.g.,
“I'm worried someone will say I'm making it up”), not having enough time to use the DMHI or information about it (e.g.,
“I don't know enough about what it entails”), and having more suitable options elsewhere.
For the email group, participants were first asked
“Do you plan on logging back in to SilverCloud?”. In response to this question 46.5% of participants (20/43) answered
“Yes”, 41.9% (18/43) selected
“Undecided”, and 11.6% (5/43) said
“No”. Different follow-up questions were asked and different multiple-choice options were presented depending on which answer participants chose. For the
“Yes” response group, the follow up question was
“What has been preventing you so far?” (see Table
4 for
“Yes” group results). The most widely selected response among this group was
“I forgot about it” (45%, 9/20), followed by
“I'm finding it hard to fit it into my life” (35%, 7/20). Responses to the
“other” option were related to complications with switching programs, difficulties in prioritizing self-care (e.g.,
“I always put myself last”) and issues with public stigma (e.g.,
“There's no accountability because I don't want people at work to know I am using it”).The follow-up questions for the
“No” response group was
“Why not?” and for the
“Undecided” response group the question was
“What is affecting your decision?” (see Table
5 for
“No” and
“Undecided” group results). The multiple-choice options for both of these questions were the same. Of the
“No” response group, 80% of participants (4/5) selected
“I haven't found it useful so far”, while 60% (3/5) selected
“I need more support than this”. In the
“Undecided” group 44.4% (8/18) chose the option
“I'm not sure if I can fit it into my life”, 27.8% (5/18) selected
“I'm not sure how to use it” and 22.2% (4/18) chose
“I need more support than this”. Free text responses from the
“other” option concerned feeling constrained by program choice (e.g.,
“Felt restricted by signing up to one particular area, although there would have been more than one relevant for me at that time”), not finding the DMHI useful and not needing it because help was found elsewhere.
Across all of the questions, there did not appear to be any trends between demographic groups and selected responses, however, we cannot be certain whether any significant differences between groups existed because statistical tests were not performed.
4.3 Qualitative Analysis
Five themes and two subthemes were identified through the reflexive thematic analysis, which fall at different temporal positions along the timeline of engaging with mental healthcare (see Figure
2 for thematic map). The first theme,
Humans need humans, covers the idea that human connection is a large proportion of what people are looking for when they seek psychological help.
Needing help means I'm weak or I've failed centers on the deep emotional, self-stigmatized beliefs that can underpin reluctance to seek help, and even stifle awareness of the need for help. The third theme,
Getting the right help is confusing contains two subthemes;
What is “help”? deals with the lack of understanding, education and guidance around therapy in general and how to choose appropriate care, while
What the hell are DMHIs? Centers more specifically on the dearth of knowledge around DMHIs and how this impacts expectations about these relatively novel interventions. The fifth theme,
“One size fits all” fits few references the need for choice and personal relevance in terms of care options and content; and finally
Accounting for changing needs highlights the diverse, intersecting trajectories of mental health goals and motivation and how they are not adequately catered for by existing care systems. Quotes are presented with the participant number, gender, service type and engagement status group (NSU: not signed up, SUNU: signed up and not using, and SUU: signed up and using), to situate each participant's words within their particular context. See Appendix A.12 for theme and code tables.
4.3.1 Theme 1: Humans Need Humans.
A fundamental part of what many participants in this study desired, in terms of therapeutic care, was human connection. This was either because human interaction was perceived as a crucial component of the therapeutic healing process, or simply because participants wanted an antidote to feeling alone. The importance of feeling heard and understood by another human was reported widely across the data, and many participants felt that this was not something that could be translated to the digital realm. As participant 7 here describes, it is the relational quality of human-to-human contact that is key,
“I think if you're talking to a person, you feel more interacted, I guess…maybe you feel more of a connection, you really feel like someone's listening. Obviously, you can tell when someone, you're talking face to face with someone you can tell if they're listening, if they're interested in what you're saying. Through a computer I guess you don't get that.” (P7, male, not-for-profit, SUNU).
The positive, healing relationship between therapist and client is a large component of the effectiveness of FTF therapies [
85], and clearly something that participants in this study felt was missing from the DMHI. There were, in fact, a small number of participants who expressed that using a computer to improve their mental health further enhanced their feelings of seclusion and disconnection, even in services where human support was provided as part of the DMHI. One aspect of this preference for human interaction over digital was a desire to offload and externalize pent up worries or thoughts, “I sort of feel like I need to actually talk to someone and maybe just vent about it or to have someone to listen to me” (P8, female, university, SUNU). For this participant, who was struggling with multiple interacting forms of distress, it was being able to express her complex concerns that mattered most. The role of the other person in this interaction, therefore, was simply to facilitate a space for expression. As participant 12 notes,
“I think having someone to hear you, to be heard, to actually listen to your problem, is, is quite important to influence changes not only thinking, reflecting on your behaviour but to influence any changes in mental health.” (P12, female, health service, SUNU).
The reflective power opened up by being listened to was, for this participant, a core mechanism expected to bring about cognitive and behavioural change. Therapy has informally been termed the “
talking cure”, and this name underpins common perceptions and expectations of the therapeutic process [
118]. The relational function of talking was mentioned by participants as a key therapeutic process that was integral to change. For example, participant 10 here describes the art of conversation as an externalisation whereby thoughts are taken out of the inner realm of the mind and made concrete,
“having an actual conversation with somebody, it felt a bit more real and you know, like I had to maybe think about it for more than two seconds, trying to articulate what I needed to say, rather than having it in front of me you know, choosing which option” (P10, female, health service, SUNU).
The inherent difficulty in verbalising thoughts (“had to think about it”, “trying to articulate”) was recognised by this participant as a positive and integral aspect of processing distressing cognitions. The alternative, working through content digitally and alone, was seen as easier but markedly less effective for this individual. Aside from the beliefs participants held about the therapeutic value of conversing with another human, the need for human connection also resonated through the data as a solution to the common circumstance of social isolation and loneliness. There were different reasons across the data for this isolation, from recent emigration, “I move to the UK very recently like six- five months ago. So, I feel like I'm alien and I don't see people much” (P16, female, health service, SUU), to the working conditions that have become mainstream as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic,
“I actually work at home but I've got a log cabin at the bottom of the garden so I'm completely detached from even the family in the house. So, I don't- unless I choose to, I don't get a lot of interaction with other people” (P1, male, not-for-profit, NSU).
For some participants, however, there was no precipitating event that brought about their loneliness, they simply did not have any close friends or family members. A small number reported that they didn't have a single person in their life who they felt they could talk to about their mental health. Even when participants did have support networks, people were sometimes seen as too busy to be supportive,
“people say you know they'll check-in on someone and whatever else. But people don't, people are wrapped up in whatever they have going on. They're not bad people for it, it's just life and I think everyone gets wrapped up in their day and they just forget” (P13, female, not-for-profit, SUU).
Participant 13 had been through a recent bereavement and noted that the support she received immediately following her loss waned consistently over time. The social cue of loss triggers supportive instincts in those around us [
94], but when it comes to distress that is not linked to an overt external event, or continues long after an event, these supportive social cues are less obvious. From a sociopolitical perspective, theorists have noted that modern capitalist economic and social systems tend to isolate us and consume our attention, obscuring our capacity to recognise and care for each other [
100]. This participant wanted to be reached out to, rather than proactively asking for help, because of the stigma associated with not being able to cope alone (discussed further in the next theme). A number of participants noted that apprehension about burdening others with their problems prevented them from opening up or seeking help. There is evidently a complicated relationship between interpersonal bonds and mental health, as conversely participants noted that the influence of other people contributed to them seeking help. For some this came in the form of a recommendation from a trusted person or the testimonial recommendations on the self-referral website as the main influences that lead them to use the DMHI. For participant 19, his girlfriend played a key role not only in his decision to reach out for help, but also in his recognition of the need for help in the first place. He notes here the difficulty that people might experience if they don't have this same level of support,
“But a lot of people I suppose wouldn't be in that position where they want to address that issue themselves. So, it might take someone else to then, but if they haven't got anyone then it's a bit of an awkward situation for them I suppose.” (P19, male, health service, SUU).
Overall, we can see that human connection appears to be a crucial component of the need for help, yet the interpersonal weight of mental health makes attaining this support difficult, as we shall see in the following theme.
4.3.2 Theme 2: Needing Help Means I'm Weak or I've Failed.
Many participants in the study revealed that they felt ashamed of their mental distress and feared the judgement of others, feelings which had previously prevented them from seeking help or even talking about their mental health. This emotional response was sometimes rooted in experiences of public stigma, such as that which participant 8 encountered,
“I've been in therapy before and even when people don't mean to be rude or show that there is a stigma around it, I've had people say like, “Oh, yeah, I could never, like I'm not that crazy” or something like that, which is shocking.” (P8, female, university, SUNU).
This type of negative social assessment can lead to shame and the internalisation of public attitudes as self-stigma [
34]. Even nowadays, when public stigma and discrimination have become far less socially acceptable (participant 8 was shocked by this overt display of stigma), self-stigma persists. Stigma was mentioned by participants from a variety of diverse backgrounds and across each of the included services, yet it appeared to be slightly more prevalent among participants from the not-for-profit service, and some of the male participants noted that they believed mental health stigma was worse for men than women. In addition, a small number of participants described how their culture impacted their feelings towards seeking help. Participant 5, who was from Zimbabwe, described mental health as not being part of her culture at all, but this is perhaps a reflection of how distress and suffering can be conceptualised and expressed differently across cultures [
25]
,“when people think mental health, they start thinking, okay there's some sort of witchcraft involved in it, or you're crazy basically… people tend to not want to talk about it because they are afraid of what other people might think like, okay, if I say that I'm feeling depressed right now, people will just be like, “ah you're just trying to get attention, you're not depressed”. So, you tend to just keep it in.” (P5, female, university, NSU).
When participant 5 moved to the UK, she was inundated with mental health and wellbeing information; she explained that it was a relief to admit to herself that she might need help, and to have these resources available to her. Other participants communicated recognition of the general decline of mental health stigma in recent years, the increase in public debate around the subject, and the widespread availability of information and self-care resources. Yet there was a sense that underneath this surface-level awareness, we are still a long way from living in a society that fully grasps the many reasons how and why distress affects us and what can be done to prevent or alleviate it. As participant 18 notes,
“there is still a disconnect between the rhetoric and the reality. So, you know, we talk a good game in society around [mental health] and its importance. I think there's a bit of a lag in terms of the actions or the real understanding of it” (P18, male, not-for-profit, SUU).
The hidden, stigmatised emotional beliefs surrounding mental health could be a key factor in the perpetuation of self-stigma, as many participants in this study described how scared they had been to admit that they had a problem and needed help. To cross behavioural help-seeking barriers, people must first cross the more significant psychological barrier between being what they perceived as
“healthy” and what they perceive as
“someone in need of help” [
35,
36]. Deciding what constitutes
“bad enough” to cross this barrier is a delicate balancing act, where comparisons are constantly made against other people,
“I guess, also, this thought of, oh, I'm not doing that bad, to actually go to someone. We think sometimes that oh there are a lot of people that are doing worse than me so, I'm not going to waste their time, like the therapists’ time.” (P8, female, university, SUNU).
Other participants, along with participant 8, held the perception that a person needs to be at a certain, socially mediated, level of severity in terms of distress to seek and receive help. Identifying the boundaries of this level can be problematic because it requires not only social comparisons between the self and others, but introspective evaluations between current experience and previous states [
152]. Participant 6 was so unsure about the validity of her own distress, that she believed she might have been imagining it,
“sometimes I almost convince myself that I've made up any issue I've got in my head” (P6, female, university, SUNU). Many participants in this study declared that they did not know whether they needed help or not, or what was normal vs.
“help-worthy” in terms of emotional distress, a finding that is consistent with previous qualitative research [
18].
Looking more closely at the social aspect of crossing this needing help barrier, some participants remarked that they felt pressure to cope with the difficult emotions they were experiencing, which usually involved keeping them in or not expressing them. Participant 13 describes how she remembers her mother coping with bereavement,
“I don't know how she coped, but I don't ever remember her crying, I don't ever remember her falling apart and I shouldn't. I should be able to do what she did.” (P13, female, not-for-profit, SUU). Sadness, along with other dysphoric states and emotions such as anxiety and anger, hold the position in many cultures around the world of being unwanted, and therefore broadly classified as unhealthy [
94]. Expressing these emotions, for participant 13, was equated with
“falling apart” and seen as the opposite of coping. Coping therefore is an ideal state, something that one
should be able to do. The term
healthism has been used to refer to the common but harmful assumption that individuals have sole responsibility over their own health, and therefore upholding one's status of good health (e.g., through coping) is a moralized duty [
37]. Coping as a moral, socially promoted act becomes complicated when we observe the opinions of those towards people who do
cope by concealing their distress, as participant 1 describes,
“I know I've got a friend who has always been very sort of happy, very sort of outward and we found out a few months ago that actually, he'd been suffering from depression, which none of our circle of friends actually knew. But I know that some of the other people I heard talking about it seemed to say ‘well you know, why would he suffer from depression, he's always happy’.” (P1, male, not-for-profit, NSU).
A paradox exists here whereby neither expressing your distress
(“falling apart”) nor concealing it (people think you are lying or making it up) are socially tolerated. The dominant social norm or assumption, therefore, is that you shouldn't be experiencing these emotions in the first place, to do so means there is something wrong with you (you have an illness), or you're either imagining it or you failed to look after yourself adequately (it is your fault) [
138]. This has been termed the
“mad or bad, brain or blame” dichotomy, and it is deeply enmeshed with the medical model of distress [
73]. Rather than situating distress in the context of external stressors, medical framings can individualize suffering and enhance self-stigma [
73,
132,
133,
146]. In order to seek help, people must face their own internal beliefs about what it means for them to need this help, a finding that was seen widely across the data in this study.
4.3.3 Theme 3.1: Getting the Right Help is Confusing: What is “Help”?.
In addition to uncertainty around when to seek help, many participants in the study also communicated that they were unsure what type of help they needed, and in a more practical sense what getting help entailed. In terms of awareness of mental health support, participants stated that their understanding came from either direct personal experience, specialised education (e.g., studying psychology or working in the health sector), or television programs, movies and talking to friends and family. The pervasiveness of the medical model means that many people assume the healing process in relation to distress is akin to physical health, for example, a small number of participants mentioned being “fixed” or “cured” of their distress. Participant 13 was worried about her not-for-profit service telling her they couldn't help when she sought out the DMHI,
“if they say they can't help me, then I'm really going to have to go to the doctor's, it's just someone else telling me that. But actually, if they turn around and say, “I can help” then I'm not “not fixable”. I know that sounds stupid” (P13, female, not-for-profit, SUU).
Participant 13 was conscious that her worry about being “not fixable” was perhaps a social faux pas, as were others in the study. These participants believed there was something inappropriate about suggesting that emotional distress can be cured, but for want of an alternative, they were unsure how else to think about it. In line with this confusion about the goals or outcomes of therapy, disconcertion was experienced around whether the DMHI was the right fit for certain individuals and their specific circumstances. For these participants, it appeared that their satisfaction with any solution presented to them, no matter how simple, depended primarily on its suitability, as participant 4 explains,
“I want to be sure that someone who's qualified can listen and then say, ‘okay, yes, you know that's just everyone goes through this from time to time, it's fine’. Or you know, ‘okay I think you should try this program’ or even just you know, even if they said you know, ‘do some breathing exercises’.” (P4, male, health service, NSU).
The most important aspect of getting help for this participant was having a trusted professional hear his story, assess whether he needed help and if he did, guide him towards the right course of action. Several other participants also mentioned wanting advice from qualified experts, or specifically to be triaged, noting that this aspect of getting help was missing from the DMHI self-referral process they experienced. This could be a factor impacting the higher DMHI engagement rates seen amongst those clients referred by a doctor or other professional [
11,
76]. DMHIs accessed via self-referral, perhaps because of this lack of triage that can be discouraging for some, are consequently not seen as
“help” in the same way that more traditional forms are. Participant 1 held the opinion that his interest in the DMHI was something different to the more meaningful act of seeking help,
“I mean I'm not actually sort of seeking physical help myself but certainly I've used a multitude of different Apps over the years for different things” (P1, male, not-for-profit, NSU). Thus, in using or investigating a DMHI, one can remain comfortably on the
healthy side of the
needing help barrier. As participant 9 explains, the digital route to help allows for a less overwhelming experience of seeking support,
“I'd rather not go and cry to my doctor and tell them that I need help, I'd rather go on the computer… I think that's what's nice as well actually about this online thing because it's not so much of a big deal, is it? Just turn your computer on and doing it that way, it's not quite as difficult to get yourself to do it.” (P9, female, not-for-profit, SUNU).
This positioning of DMHIs “on the fence”, so to speak, between help and not help, could contribute to the notion that they are a good first step, an easy route into the daunting world of help, as was mentioned by a number of participants. Participant 17 had a traumatic past experience with distress, so the idea of “going back there”, signified by seeking “treatment”, was a frightening prospect for her,
“everything to do with mental health is negative to me because I don't want it, I don't like it. And I needed to turn it into a positive, that's something you don't really need but it's to help you so, that's how I've seen it.” (P17, female, health service, SUU).
This participant was unsure about signing up for the DMHI because of these fears, but the ambiguity of the DMHI meant that she was able to reframe it as something she “didn't really need”, which allowed her to circumvent the barrier of admitting she needed help. Seeing the DMHI as a coping strategy or preventative measure is precisely why she went on to engage with it, but other participants had different reactions to this aspect of the DMHI. Participant 12 also saw the DMHI as preventative, but for her this was a problem because she was seeking a more reactive solution, “It is good for someone with stable mental health, not for people who are looking [for help]” (P12, female, health service, SUNU). Other participants also believed that digital solutions were not as effective or as serious as FTF therapies, precisely because they were not perceived as real help,
“if I'm at the stage where I'm like sitting in the shower like properly sobbing because I don't know what, what the hell is happening with my life, I can't- like sitting on a computer just clicking on boxes is not what I- it's not going to help me at that point.” (P10, female, health service, SUNU).
Participant 10 desired immediate relief from her overwhelming experience of distress, which she did not find with the digital solution presented to her. She mentions getting to a point where she needed something more than the DMHI could provide, an area that we will discuss further in theme 4. Crossing the needing help barrier was not a concern for this participant, but for those who do experience this stigma, DMHIs appear to hold a unique position in terms of being able to help without being considered real help. Underpinning this is a deep uncertainty about what it means to get help for mental distress, a confusion that we found was exacerbated by the lack of knowledge and understanding of digital solutions more broadly.
4.3.4 Theme 3.2: Getting the Right Help is Confusing: What the Hell are DMHIs?.
One of the most prevalent codes across the entire dataset involved participants not being sure what the DMHI was. Most participants had not heard of or used a digital solution previously, and therefore had little frame of reference to go on,
“I didn't have any expectations because I never used anything like that before” (P3, female, university, NSU). Even when participants had prior experience with the platform (e.g., one participant was a nurse who had previously recommended it to her patients) there were still many layers of uncertainties and unanswered questions. Participant 1 remarked that
“until you sign up you can't really see the sort of increased detail as to what exactly it is” (P1, male, not-for-profit, NSU), which points to a lack of practical explanation of the intervention on the self-referral website and in other materials provided to clients in anticipation of sign up. Many other participants also declared that there was not enough information given in these preliminary materials (e.g., service websites, outreach emails, and wellbeing resource landing pages) or that the information provided oversold the intervention, leading to unrealistically high expectations which were not met, and therefore left participants feeling disappointed. Recent HCI research has called for greater transparency and honesty in client-facing marketing of mental health technologies [
162], because implying that psychological change is easy cultivates expectations that are unattainable [
157]. In line with this, a major request from participants was for more information to be provided before clients are expected to enter their details and commit to signing up for the DMHI. Participant 14 was enthusiastic about the digital option but had doubts about it due to previous negative experiences with FTF CBT, as she explains,
“I just wanted to see I guess what it was actually offering, go into more depth about it… I like structure so it would have been nice to have like- I don't know, like a course detail thing of like what it all goes through.” (P14, female, health service, SUU).
For those participants who did decide to sign up, as in participant 14’s case, the desire for more guidance and information continued into experiences of the platform itself. A number of participants professed that they didn't know how to use the platform, this confusion often stemming from not understanding the fundamental nature of how interventions like this operate. For example, participant 15 expected someone to contact her to initiate the start of her journey with the DMHI, an expectation possibly based on traditional forms of therapy, which are interactional rather than self-directed,
“I didn't actually know how to start the program, if that makes sense? Because I kind of sort of logged in, did the things and then I was kind of waiting for somebody- Waiting for the, well, when do I start? How do I start it? So, I'd signed up for a few days and it was like, oh okay, so I've got to kind of go back in. So there was a slight gap.” (P15, female, health service, SUU).
The autonomous nature of DMHIs was not something that this participant fully comprehended before she signed up, so she was left waiting for direction. There was also uncertainty around the sign-up process, as some participants believed that the self-referral website was part of the intervention platform itself; without a mental model for the DMHI, it can also be difficult for people to grasp the systems and processes surrounding the DMHI. These unknowns left many participants feeling frustrated and lost. Participant 12’s exasperation was palpable,
“I didn't know did I, did I click on the right page? Where, or did I already sign up? What is it? There was nothing, nothing really to guide me, to explain what that Silver Cloud is, why clouds are silver. I was- I couldn't understand really what it is.” (P12, female, health service, SUNU).
This excerpt introduces another area that perplexed some participants, relating to the ecosystem of the intervention itself and the relationship between the participant's service and this external company
“SilverCloud” who were delivering the intervention. Previous research found that endorsement by a trusted service and the presence of familiar logos indicated credibility when people were seeking mental health information online [
126], and for many participants in our study this was found to be true, e.g.,
“I thought oh, I might as well give it a go because I saw that it was… done with the NHS so, I knew it would be reliable” (P19, male, health service, SUU). However, other participants found the presence of branding outside of their
“trusted service” to be a point of ambiguity and concern. Participant 4 expressed distrust in private sector companies and queried the usefulness of the intervention considering what he perceived to be the potentially immoral values and goals of the corporation behind it,
“anything that's for-profit healthcare… has that implicit you know incentive for the company, assuming they are not that scrupulous, to you know, effectively try and keep their customers on board rather than providing them with help.” (P4, male, health service, NSU).
When faced with this dearth of knowledge about DMHIs, participants tended to forge expectations based on the closest comparable thing they had knowledge about, which was often wellbeing apps and other similar digital products they had used before, “my expectation was that an online tool would be similar to you know, other stuff out there” (P18, male, not-for-profit, SUU). For example, some participants expected to have to pay for the intervention, and that the payment structure might be like consumer facing apps (e.g., restricted access to content based on subscription level). In addition, because most of these apps are delivered as self-help, many participants did not expect human support from the DMHI; some participants from the supported services in the study didn't even realize there was a human support aspect. For the most part, attitudes towards other widely available mental health and wellbeing apps were negative; participant 9 dismissed the apps she had used previously as frivolous and unhelpful,
“I think the ones I'd seen were more just like, here's a daily mantra for you and write your dream and [laughs] I don't know, like weird things like that. Because I did actually download some of them ages ago and they were rubbish, I never used them” (P9, female, not-for-profit, SUNU).
Pre-determined negative attitudes towards the broad category of
“wellbeing technologies”, means that DMHIs can become tarred with the same brush, as was found in this study. Many participants had low expectations for how useful the intervention was going to be, as did participant 8, who put off engagement with the DMHI because of this pessimism,
“I feel like I'm delaying it just because I'm like, oh yeah it's not going to work” (P8, female, university, SUNU). Belief that DMHIs will not work is a common barrier to uptake and engagement found in the literature [
15,
19,
103], but another explanation for these attitudes could be linked to the inherently standardised nature of digital solutions. For many participants, the usefulness of the DMHI was directly linked to its relevance to their personal situation and circumstances. Participant 6, who it should be noted was provided the DMHI without human support, questioned the effectiveness of a universally applicable digital intervention considering her specific circumstances and needs,
“How are they going to know exactly what I need help for if they're not asking me… I thought how can this really help, like it might be one of those things that they say is going to help and it might make you think it's going to help, like a bit placebo effect but it doesn't really help.” (P6, female, university, SUNU).
Not knowing how DMHIs function, what their underlying mechanisms are, or how they are tailored can lead to huge gaps in understanding, gaps which are often filled with inference. The notion of tailoring and personalisation of digital interventions will be explored in more detail in the following theme.
4.3.5 Theme 4: “One Size Fits all” Fits Few.
When asked what brought participants to the DMHI, they conveyed a range of different reasons for seeking help, involving one or a number of external stressors, such as recent bereavement, job loss, starting university, domestic violence, or moving country,
“I'm an international student so I just wanted some aids to help me because it's a new environment” (P5, female, university, NSU). These stressors often precipitated help seeking, so understandably participants wanted to address these issues specifically with the help they sought. From a clinical standpoint, many of these issues would be classified as related to
“adjustment disorder”, a diagnostic category that raises taxonomic dilemmas around the boundary between normality and pathology [
164]. While the range of program options available through the DMHI was mentioned by several participants as an appealing aspect of this particular intervention,
“it covers such a wide aspect, a wide range, a wide variety if you want, of issues that people can seek help with” (P7, male, not-for-profit, SUNU), many participants still felt that their particular problem was not covered or represented. There was an overall perception among most participants that a digital solution implies generic content, and that generic content is undesirable, as has been found in other recent HCI studies [
8,
9]. Participant 12 found a disconnect between her subjective experience of her own distress and the nonspecific solution presented to her,
“it's just I find it strange that we all have different problems and we all get treated with the same, the same generic videos” (P12, female, health service, SUNU). Frequently coupled with this aversion to a
“one size fits all” approach was a preference for human interaction, due to its intrinsically personal nature. Participant 1 articulated the desire for a solution that could be adapted to him and his needs,
“I think where it would fall down is if I felt that it was too generic and therefore didn't suit me and therefore talking to someone in person is probably much more tuneable to personal circumstance.” (P1, male, not-for-profit, NSU).
Not understanding the role of the human supporter in the DMHI, or not knowing that there was a human support element at all, led many participants to underestimate the personalised nature of the intervention. However, even when people did understand the supporter role and were actively using the intervention with support, as in participant 16’s case, there was still a sense that the content of the DMHI was indistinguishable from the plethora of mental health information that is now widely available online,
“I've been reading I know these modules, they maybe they are helpful but it's still these things are, we can, we can find them outside like any other websites.” (P16, female, health service, SUU).
The global therapeutic and self-help industries have grown substantially in recent decades [
138,
162], meaning that most people have been exposed to
“self-help” style wellbeing advice in one form or another, often including techniques from the widely popularised CBT [
115]. Some participants who had this existing knowledge and already used CBT techniques as part of their own self-care routine, found the provision of this advice through the DMHI to be simplistic and even patronising,
“Have you tried, I don't know, sitting down and having a cup of tea? Or just writing out your thoughts? And I'm like, yes, I have, I've thought about all that. I've done all of that. I keep a diary so I'm very mindful about how I'm feeling, when I'm feeling it… I almost felt it was a bit- I don't know if- I don't really know how to say it. Like I don't want to say like it was talking to a child, you know like explaining things.” (P10, female, health service, SUNU).
Being given these nonspecific recommendations was an extremely frustrating experience for participant 10, and it is clear that the DMHI was not an appropriate option for her at that time. For many participants in fact, the DMHI was simply not suitable. This was either because they were not comfortable using technology, “I'm just quite bad with technology, it takes me a while to figure it out…I'm just, I don't really know how to work it properly” (P8, female, university, SUNU), or they were experiencing types of distress for which CBT or the digital format was not suitable, “I guess the stuff I have kind of been struggling with it was- I didn't know that it was really going to provide the help that I felt I needed” (P2, male, university, NSU). That said, we can see from some of the engaged participants in the sample that the DMHI was an ideal solution for some, due to its adaptable, self-directed nature and relative convenience compared to FTF modalities. Even amongst the non-engaging participants, these beneficial attributes were regularly mentioned. For participant 13, a busy working mother with young children, the DMHI was a perfect fit,
“I can actually help myself rather than feeling like I've got to have a childminder, I've got to try and get somewhere, I've got to book an appointment, no one else is around at that time. So I don't think I had realised before actually looking into it that it was flexible enough that it helped us, but it's also not feeling like I've got to add an extra pressure into my day.” (P13, female, not-for-profit, SUU).
Choice and agency over support options surface here as essential mediating factors in client satisfaction. Giving clients transparent information and multiple options from which to choose can help them find a solution that meets their needs, and crucially, one that they are happy with. Some participants felt like they were pushed towards the DMHI because no other options were available to them, when their preference was to talk to a therapist, “I went again to the health centre and they didn't have enough staff, so they tried to direct me to the SilverCloud platform” (P3, female, university, NSU). Providing DMHIs as an alternative to FTF therapy can be problematic if people feel like they are being given something inferior and unsuitable for them, thus the framing of DMHIs is a key area for consideration. Human variability is so wide and complex that each different support option presented will inevitably suit a portion of the population, but no single option will suit everyone. Add to this the fluctuating nature of mental health and the different trajectories of distress that clients can experience, which we will explore in the next theme, and the picture becomes even more complex.
4.3.6 Theme 5: Accounting for Changing Needs.
Client needs or goals for mental health support can be conceptualised as immediate and hedonic (i.e., the reduction of pain and distress) or more eudemonic and related to long term wellbeing, the attainment of happiness and the prevention of future distress [
45,
121,
162]. There is a complex relationship between these intersecting, fluctuating goals, which caused confusion for participants in terms of what they expected or wanted from the DMHI at different times. The connection between perceived need or level of distress and motivation was mentioned by several participants, for example, participant 6 noted that she tends to only work on her mental health when she is feeling low,
“I kind of go through like phases so, when I don't, when I'm not going through a phase of feeling low then I kind of stop looking for help. Which isn't good but that is part of the issue. So, I think I do need to just start doing it and force myself to keep doing it.” (P6, female, university, SUNU).
Participant 6 recognized the inherent issue with her mood-dependent help-seeking behaviour, but her instinct was to avoid the unpleasant prospect of working on her mental health when she was feeling well. She references
“forcing” herself to work on the DMHI, while she would engage effortlessly when experiencing low mood. Alleviating distress feels good, whereas experiences of growth and meaning may not be as hedonically pleasant, and can in fact be subjectively uncomfortable [
94,
153,
157]. A number of participants in this study referenced the challenging nature of working on their mental health and the difficulties they experienced in finding motivation, which has also been found in previous research [
44,
70]. Under most health behaviour change models, including the HITAM, intentions are theorised as a core predictor of behaviour change [
80]. Many participants in this study, who emphasised the importance of mental health and had signed up with intentions to use the DMHI, still found the motivation to use it varied and was hard to come by. This highlights the emotional, fluid nature of motivation, a factor which could underpin the
intention-behaviour gap that has been found in relation to multiple areas including mental health [
12,
88,
156].
For other clients, motivation was not an issue because their only goal was immediate distress relief. Participant 11 no longer felt the necessity to spend time and energy on her mental health because she was no longer experiencing distress,
“I should give credit to my mental health but I'm just, just not giving any attention to it anymore because… I'm not in need of it.” (P11, female, university, SUNU). We cannot assume that clients seeking support want to build long term skills for future wellbeing or engage in sustained use of the technology. This potential conflict between the (fluctuating) goals of the client and the (usually static) goals of the intervention evokes debate on the power dynamics that exist between clients and the governments, employers, private corporations and institutions creating and delivering DMHIs [
45,
96,
130]. The weight of responsibility is often directed towards individual clients to maintain their own wellbeing through self-care [
37], yet some participants in this study indicated that there were too many competing demands on their time to find the space to work on the DMHI. Prioritizing use of the DMHI amidst work and childcare responsibilities was not an option for participant 9,
“I kept thinking oh, I'll do it when I get to bed or you know, sit and have a bit of time and I just kept falling asleep and just not bothering” (P9, female, not-for-profit, SUNU), which speaks to the contextual nature of need and motivation, as influenced by external factors. In many instances, what is best for the wellbeing of the client is
not to use the DMHI, particularly when this
“self-care” work is perceived as burdensome. DMHIs do have the potential to provide more immediate support, due to their accessibility, however, for many participants the signup process itself was a barrier to attaining this momentary relief,
“unfortunately when your thoughts are racing and you're not feeling your best, the last thing you want to do is read and sit down and take things in. Because you don't take it in, you just want to go straight to it.” (P17, female, health service, SUU).
Participant 17 was experiencing heightened distress caused by the prospect of seeking help, which impeded her ability to process information and make decisions. Distress experienced while going through the signup process comes at a time when clients are often most in need of support. Several participants pointed out this gap in care provision between crisis services and preventative solutions, and there was a collective call for better “middle ground” support, i.e., immediate but not emergency care. Participant 14 gives a potential solution to this issue:
“maybe it would be good if you had like an option of like if you're feeling you know, hopeless and unmotivated like speak to the Crisis Team first. Like speaking to someone about it, just about your mental health in general would really help and then people who actually want help and are in the right mindset for help, SilverCloud would be really useful for.” (P14, female, health service, SUU).
This participant's idea involves options that depend on the client's attitude towards help, which is shaped by their culture and prevailing mental health narratives, e.g., healthism and the medical model [
27,
37,
133]. Thus the
“right mindset for help” is potentially one that assumes responsibility over and the ability to control distress. These narratives also determine how interventions are assessed and assigned, with diagnostic definitions and symptom measures being standard practice. For example, under NICE guidance, the stepped care model used by the health service in this study advocates that DMHIs are more suitable for those with mild to moderate
“symptoms” [
116], despite evidence suggesting those experiencing more severe symptoms still benefit [
49,
77,
105]. In fact, as we saw above, fluctuating periods of severity could actually be motivational in terms of client engagement with DMHIs. What's more, clients who struggle to fit their unique experiences into these standardized symptom measures and rigid diagnostic categories could feel enhanced distress, as we found in this study,
“I will absolutely work myself up into a state where I can't get any work done for like one or two weeks at a time and then the problem will magically resolve itself and I'll be fine for like a month. So, it's not constant and if you do any of those questionnaires they're always like, ‘oh in the last two weeks you know, how many days roughly has this been affecting you?’ And it's like if I answer it honestly then there's never any kind of solution presented. It's always like, ‘oh you know, you've just- you're having a bad week, sod off, come back when you've got a problem’.” (P4, male, health service, NSU).
This participant was suffering from intermittent bouts of anxiety, that were extreme when he was experiencing them, but were not constant. The progression of distress experience over time involves multiple interacting trajectories, which are not accounted for in current diagnostic classification systems [
20]. Mental health is hugely varied and contextual and thus needs multiple ways to be formulated and understood [
73]. There was a sense from this data that the reality of mental health as a complex and subjective experience, with oscillating needs and shifting trajectories, was perceived by participants as not being adequately addressed by current care pathways and models.