Complexity Science for Mental Health Care

Accessible.
Approachable.
For everyone.

A platform that aims to bring insights from complexity science closer to clinicians, researchers, experts by experience, and clients. We work, after all, in complex systems — and these, we think, call for other methods as well.

A path through state space

A person, we think, cannot be reduced to a classification. A complex, dynamic system — with its own patterns, rhythms and receptivities — calls for a different gaze than the categorical handbook tends to offer. Those who try this other gaze gradually discover that it also leads to different questions, different considerations, and in time perhaps to different care.

Thousands of birds, without a conductor, in a shape that no one prescribed. It is perhaps worth considering what we might gain by occasionally looking at our consulting rooms in a comparable way — at the pattern that takes shape, rather than at a sum of parts.

Video · P K (uair01), Wikimedia Commons · CC BY 2.0
Self-organization · in view

Five metronomes.
One board. No conductor.

Start them at random moments. Wait a minute. They tick in precise synchrony — solely because the board they stand on moves with them, very slightly.

This is what Hermann Haken's synergetics demonstrates, and what Schiepek has further developed for psychotherapy: in complex systems, under the right conditions, order can emerge without anyone directing it. Local interactions, the right degree of coupling, and — sometimes — a shared rhythm.

Christiaan Huygens described it already in 1665, from his sickbed, in two pendulum clocks on a shared beam. He called it sympathy of clocks. A comparable principle, we now know, appears to operate in neurons, in flocks, and in groups of people — and, so it is cautiously argued, possibly also in psychotherapeutic processes.

More in the lexicon (in Dutch, for now)

Harvard Natural Sciences Lecture Demonstrations — synchronization of metronomes.

What this might mean for mental health care.

The ideas on this platform stem from an international and largely formal field of research. We have for some time been asking ourselves what they might concretely mean in everyday mental health practice — in the consulting room, on the ward, and in the boardroom. A few early explorations follow.

i. In diagnostics

Reading patterns, not only scores.

When we measure over time — briefly, with a few variables, repeated over a number of weeks — our data tend to show more than an average can capture. Variability, autocorrelation and the interrelations between variables tell us, we think, something essential about how a person functions in this moment.

The work of Wichers and Bringmann in Groningen, and of Borsboom, Fried and others in the Amsterdam network-analytic tradition, brings this way of diagnostic seeing into reach of clinical practice. Its implementation, however, often remains largely academic — a missed opportunity, we would say.

Read about idiographic work →
ii. In treatment

Phase transitions in therapy: patterns that qualitatively shift.

Many patients improve not gradually but in leaps — what the literature calls sudden gains. Others appear, before a relapse, to give off subtle signals: variance rises, recovery from a setback takes longer, the system hesitates. These are signs that a pattern is about to shift — a phase transition in the time series of a treatment.

That a therapy process behaves this way — nonlinear, with discontinuous transitions — is by now well established. The work of Günter Schiepek and colleagues, building on his collaboration with Hermann Haken, shows that psychotherapy is in fact a chaotic, self-organising process, and offers instruments to make precisely these transitions visible on a daily basis. The therapeutic relationship itself can, in this light, cautiously be understood as coupling: a connection in which, under the right conditions, a shared rhythm may emerge.

Read about phase transitions →
iii. In governance

Mental health care itself as a complex system.

A team, an institution, a sector — these too are complex, dynamic systems. We suspect that many of the persistent problems mental health care worldwide grapples with — waiting lists, staff attrition, protocol fatigue, fragmentation between sectors — do not yield easily to top-down interventions.

A complexity-informed view of how care is organised, with attention to local interactions, to coupling between teams, and to the tipping points at which systems can reorganise, may add something we hope is now still too often missing from administrative thinking.

Read about self-organization →

None of these three openings is complete. We hope this platform may become a place where they can be explored together, carefully, in the years ahead.

From measurement to meaning: the pattern that shifts.

Günter Schiepek put to us the question this platform ultimately turns on: where does complexity science touch psychotherapy itself? The answer, we believe, lies in what happens just before a person changes.

rising variability phase transition state A state B
An idealised time series of a single variable in a treatment. Note what happens before the shift: the swings grow larger, recovery after a dip slower. In the literature these are early warning signals — and they announce the phase transition.

A therapy process rarely runs in a straight line. The research of Schiepek and colleagues — building on Hermann Haken's synergetics — shows that psychotherapy behaves like a chaotic, self-organising system: with stable periods, with critical instabilities, and with moments at which the whole suddenly tips into a new state. Precisely these moments — pattern transitions, shifts in which a time series changes qualitatively in character — are what a clinician would most like to see coming in time.

That it does not stop at theory is, for us, the essential point. Validated methods now exist to detect such transitions in real patient data, and research shows that feeding this kind of process information back on a daily basis measurably benefits the treatment — strengthening motivation, deepening the therapeutic relationship, and giving clinician and patient a shared "red thread". The therapeutic relationship itself can be understood here as coupling: the place where, under the right conditions, a shared rhythm arises.

A romanesco cauliflower with spiral fractal patterns
Patterns · at every scale

A romanesco.

Look closely: each protrusion is a smaller version of the whole, and within it lies a smaller version still. A pattern that repeats itself in comparable form across different scales is, in mathematics, called a fractal.

It may be that some of the patterns we hear about in the consulting room are constructed along similar lines. The course of a difficult hour and that of a difficult week sometimes display kindred shapes — a rich thought, even if it cannot be claimed that it holds in every case.

Photo · Jean-François Frenel, Pexels
We suspect that getting stuck is not always best understood as personal failure — at times it appears to be the working of persistent patterns that, unnoticed, keep themselves in place.
In complexity science, instability is sometimes interpreted as a precondition for change — a thought that may allow us, in clinical practice, to look upon unrest more gently.
Our aim is not to think complexity away, but to take it seriously enough to be of clinical use.
More attention for patterns, for functions, for clinical wisdom — as a complement to what we already have, we hope, rather than a replacement.
A large school of fish moves as one beneath the surface

A school of fish turns, contracts and stretches out. What is striking is that there is no 'true', underlying fish concealed in the deep that would prescribe this shape. The school itself is the pattern — built from a few simple local rules each fish follows: keep your neighbour in sight, do not quite touch them. We sometimes ask ourselves, with some reservation, whether in our diagnostics we are not too often looking for a latent core behind the observable phenomena, while the coherence may lie more in the interplay itself.

Photo · Adiprayogo Liemena, Pexels

Our mission.

What we hope to do, and why we feel it is timely.

Mission

We wish to make complexity science as accessible and open as possible to anyone working in or around mental health care — for clinicians, researchers, experts by experience, and for patients themselves.

Not a platform for any single method, but — we hope — a shared language that may enrich thinking in this field.

We aim to bring the insights of a rich, international field closer to the consulting room — without requiring a degree in mathematics in order to take part.

Vision

We suspect mental health care has reached a stage where the thinking that once made it great no longer suffices for everything that now presents itself. We do not wish to dismantle anything — but rather to add: attention for timing, for patterns, for context, for the handles that, at present, still tend to remain underwater.

We hope: from technique-based toward process-based practice — as a complement, not a break.

For those who work in complex systems, trial & error, creativity and responsiveness seem unavoidable. We would like to explore how these can also take a scientifically responsible form.

Honeybees in a tree hollow form a living structure
A dense crowd of people during the Holi festival, coloured powders in the air

A beehive does not work from a predetermined blueprint; a dancing crowd follows no choreography. And yet a shape appears, a rhythm, a shared direction. This phenomenon — the appearance of something new out of many small movements — is in complexity science usually called emergence.

Photos · Gill Heward & Chalta Phirta, Pexels

Four ways into complexity in mental health care.

Each path suits a different stage of acquaintance. We invite you to begin where you are — they all point eventually to one another.