CBT - is it a promotion of White Capitalist society?

23 Nov

CBT is often praised as a flexible, catch-all therapeutic approach, but in my experience its usefulness is more limited than its reputation suggests. For me, the strongest value of CBT lies in energy-conservation strategies: recognising when I or my clients are overextending ourselves, pacing the day, and structuring tasks in ways that reduce overwhelm and prevent burnout.

This has been especially helpful for clients with ADHD whose internal “motor” rarely stops. When hyperactivity or overcommitment leads to overload, CBT tools such as activity scheduling or monitoring task demands can surface patterns that were previously invisible. I’ve experienced this myself; I once realised, only after mapping it out, that I was effectively juggling nine jobs at the same time. That insight helped me understand why I struggled with things others found simple, like maintaining a gym routine or joining a club, and why my life felt like all work and no play. In reality, work had become my play, which eventually helped me realise I preferred self-employment and that being an artist could hold both work and joy.

Yet the limitations of CBT become clearer when we examine the assumptions built into its framework. CBT implicitly encourages people to conform to capitalist ideals of productivity and performance: tracking behaviour, reducing “unhelpful” thoughts, optimising output. These are not neutral psychological goals; they reflect cultural and economic values rooted in efficiency, self-discipline, and constant productivity. In this way, CBT often positions the individual as the problem — or at least the one who must adapt — rather than questioning whether the surrounding social and economic pressures are themselves harmful or unsustainable.

As a result, CBT can pathologise what may actually be natural human variation or symptoms of systemic imbalance. Personal struggle is too easily framed as a cognitive or behavioural error rather than a mismatch between a person’s needs and the structures they must navigate. While CBT can indeed be empowering when used for self-awareness, pacing, or identifying overwhelm, it also risks functioning as a tool of self-regulation in service of external productivity norms rather than supporting a genuinely holistic vision of living well.

So, while CBT can be excellent for self-management; particularly in helping people recognise overcommitment and learn pacing strategies — its broader claims about thought patterns and behaviour change deserve critical scrutiny. CBT is not a neutral therapy; it operates within, and often reinforces, dominant cultural ideologies of productivity, efficiency, and conformity, frameworks that are especially unforgiving to marginalised identities.

Despite being hailed as the “gold standard,” CBT is deeply rooted in colonial and capitalist ideology. It individualises distress, separating mental suffering from the political, structural, and social contexts that create it. Critics point out that CBT rose to prominence within neoliberal systems precisely because it aligns with values of individual responsibility, efficiency, and short-term cost-effectiveness, rather than addressing systemic oppression, inequality, or intergenerational trauma (NSUN). Moreover, the empirical research underpinning CBT’s evidence base disproportionately draws on white, Western participants. Its supposed universality therefore obscures the realities of racism, poverty, and structural violence that shape mental health for marginalised communities (Psyche).

In my own work as a mentor and coach, I do use certain CBT techniques; not because I view CBT as a comprehensive therapeutic model, but because some tools (like cognitive restructuring or behavioural activation) can be practically useful for goal-setting, building resilience (if my clients work in a corporate job role or a role where they need to “conform” a little), or navigating everyday challenges. However, when I inhabit a therapeutic role, I draw more from Jungian traditions, which allow for depth, symbolism, relationality, and complexity. Jungian approaches make room for soul, collective histories, and decolonising forms of healing. It is not enough to simply manage distress; therapy must also name and challenge how mainstream psychotherapeutic models reproduce systemic power imbalances.

Integrating Crip and Queer theories into my practice, alongside culturally rooted approaches to trauma, provides an even richer and more expansive framework for supporting clients. These perspectives centre marginalised bodies, identities, and experiences, revealing how ableism, heteronormativity, racism, and colonial legacies shape everyday life and emotional wellbeing. When clients explore trauma through cultural or collective lenses, they can situate their suffering within broader social narratives instead of internalising blame. Crip and Queer frameworks also open space for resistance, self-definition, and non-normative forms of resilience that mainstream psychotherapies frequently overlook.

In this way, these approaches do not merely complement CBT; they often surpass it in fostering authentic healing, empowerment, and connection to the wider systems and histories that shape our lives.

CBT - is it a promotion of White Capitalist society?

What happens if you encounter the sublime?

Elinor Rowlands MA FRSA