Topic
History of Psychiatry
Psychiatry took shape as a medical specialty in Europe around 1800, but
the experiences it claimed as its subject—madness, distress, unusual
perception, and socially disruptive conduct—had much older histories in
households, courts, religious communities, hospitals, and healing
traditions. This page follows a selective path from the ancient
Mediterranean and medieval Islamicate world to European and North American
institutions, colonial psychiatry, and twentieth-century community care.
This is not a story of superstition simply yielding to science. New
diagnoses and treatments sometimes relieved suffering, yet the same
institutions could confine, classify, exploit, or kill. Evidence, patient
testimony, professional authority, public policy, and civil rights changed
together, and not in a single direction.
- Scope
- Selective chronology of psychiatric ideas, institutions, treatments, and rights
- Period
- Ancient precedents to the late twentieth century, with brief present-day context
- Central question
- How care, custody, diagnosis, evidence, and rights came to define psychiatric medicine
Scope and Terms
The specialty is modern; its subject is older
Historians cannot safely translate every earlier account of madness into a
present-day diagnosis. Words such as mania, melancholia,
and hysteria changed meaning across centuries, while legal,
religious, medical, and household judgments often overlapped.
Ancient Greek and Roman medical authors placed some disturbances of
emotion, perception, and conduct within humoral and bodily theories.
Regimen, sleep, diet, environment, and evacuation could therefore count
as treatment. These texts were influential, but they do not describe a
separate profession of psychiatry or map cleanly onto modern diagnostic
categories.[1]
Medieval Islamicate societies likewise used no single explanatory
system. Physicians, jurists, religious scholars, families, hospitals,
and literary authors described and managed disturbed conduct in
different ways. Michael Dols's study of the Arabic category
majnūn shows medicine, law, religion, and social meaning
interacting rather than one tradition merely replacing another. Nor
were people identified as mad uniformly excluded from society.[2]
“Mad,” “lunatic,” “idiot,” and “hysterical” appear below only as historical
terms or in the titles of historical works. Many became stigmatizing or
obsolete. Their presence in an archive records how authorities classified
people; it does not establish what diagnosis, if any, would be made today.
1808–late nineteenth century
The asylum promise expanded into bureaucracy and custody
Reform language became law through different national and local routes.
In England and Wales, the County Asylums Act of 1808 permitted local
authorities to build public asylums, but provision grew slowly. The Lunacy
Act and County Asylums Act of 1845 made county provision compulsory and
established the Lunacy Commission. These dates describe England and Wales, not a universal
timetable: Scotland, Ireland, continental Europe, colonies, and the
Americas developed distinct legal and institutional systems.[6]
Nineteenth-century American reformers similarly presented rural asylums as
therapeutic communities. In practice, long admissions, overcrowding,
hydrotherapy, sedatives, compulsory work, restraint, and violence could
coexist with shelter and medical attention. Commitment also reflected
material pressures. Wage labour and migration could make prolonged
household care harder, while poor and immigrant families had fewer
alternatives to public institutions.[7]
Casebooks made observation portable
Registers and case notes turned speech, appetite, sleep, family
history, work, bodily signs, and ward conduct into medical evidence.
They helped specialists—often called alienists in the
nineteenth century—compare cases and claim expertise in hospitals and
courts. They also preserve the institution's questions and categories
much more consistently than the patient's own account.[7]
Patients made records against the archive
Elizabeth Packard's 1873 account documented her commitment by her
husband and her campaign for legal safeguards. In California
in 1877, Anna B. Kuster Welty stitched a German-language appeal for
release into cloth. Such sources demonstrate argument, resistance,
and skill where institutional files might record only symptoms. They
are not transparent or statistically representative voices: survival,
literacy, publication, family resources, and collecting practices all
shaped what can now be read.[8]
Nineteenth-century classification
Diagnosis linked description to prognosis and authority
Psychiatric classification did more than name behaviour. It organized
wards, admission records, statistics, teaching, prognosis, and expert
testimony. German Berrios's history of descriptive psychopathology shows
that even apparently familiar “symptoms” acquired technical meanings
within nineteenth-century philosophical and clinical debates. A term's
long life does not guarantee a stable concept.[9]
Emil Kraepelin's sixth-edition textbook of 1899 influentially separated
dementia praecox, which he associated with a deteriorating course,
from manic-depressive illness, which he expected to remit or recur. The
categories and Kraepelin's explanations changed across editions, and his
contemporaries disputed whether such “natural disease entities” could be
identified at all. Later schizophrenia and bipolar diagnoses inherited
parts of this division but are not simple modern names for identical
nineteenth-century diseases.[10]
1895 and after
Psychoanalysis moved some psychiatric work into the consulting room
Josef Breuer and Sigmund Freud's Studies on Hysteria (1895)
presented five case histories and arguments about memory, trauma,
sexuality, bodily symptoms, and therapeutic speech. It was a joint work,
not a solitary discovery by Freud. “Hysteria” then covered shifting
symptom groupings and carried gendered assumptions; it should not be
silently replaced by one current diagnosis. The published cases reveal
how the authors built their theory, but their selection and narration do
not independently prove it.[11]
Repeated conversation, interpretation, and the therapeutic relationship
differed from asylum routines. Psychoanalysis became influential in some
medical cultures, especially private practice and selected training
institutions, while remaining marginal or contested elsewhere. Cost,
time, class access, therapeutic evidence, and the clinician's interpretive
authority were debated from the beginning. It neither displaced asylum
psychiatry nor represented the whole history of psychotherapy.[1]
Empire, race, and state violence
Psychiatric institutions carried political hierarchies
European empires built asylum networks, but their clinical reach was often
limited. Institutions initially served many European soldiers and
settlers; colonized patients could receive poorer accommodation and
funding, while psychiatric writing interpreted behaviour through racial
stereotypes. This was not simply a European system imposed on an empty
field: vernacular concepts, family care, religious practices, and local
healers continued alongside and inside colonial institutions.[12]
At Blida-Joinville hospital in French-ruled Algeria, Frantz Fanon and
colleagues used social-therapy experiments to challenge an alienating
institution. Between 1953 and 1956, staff and patients produced the weekly
Notre Journal. The project created a shared forum, but its reliance
on written French also exposed the limits of a model poorly matched to
local languages, oral traditions, and unequal literacy. Fanon's work is
therefore evidence of both anti-colonial innovation and revision in
practice, not a frictionless success story.[13]
Under National Socialism, medical administration became part of mass
murder. From 1939, institutions completed questionnaires that reduced
disabled and psychiatric patients to diagnoses, legal status, ancestry,
and capacity for work. Physicians selected victims for the program called
“euthanasia” by its perpetrators. Gas killings at six centres murdered
70,273 people between January 1940 and August 1941; after the centralized
operation was publicly halted, killings by starvation, injection, and
neglect continued. The episode was not an abuse committed outside medicine
but depended on doctors, nurses, records, hospitals, and state policy.[14]
1930s–1950s
Somatic treatments exposed disputes over evidence and consent
Insulin coma therapy spread despite early dissent
Manfred Sakel reported insulin treatment for schizophrenia in 1933.
Large doses produced prolonged hypoglycaemia and coma; the procedure
required specialist wards and carried a risk of death. It spread
internationally from the 1930s into the 1960s even though critics
questioned its rationale and outcomes from an early stage. A 1957
controlled comparison found no benefit over coma induced with a
barbiturate. Its decline was therefore not a sudden triumph of one
trial, but the result of accumulated criticism alongside cheaper and
simpler drug treatments.[15]
ECT has both a coercive past and a continuing clinical history
Ugo Cerletti and Lucio Bini first used an electrical current to induce
a therapeutic seizure in Rome in 1938, after earlier experiments with
chemically induced convulsions. Early electroconvulsive therapy (ECT)
was given without the anaesthesia and muscle relaxation used in modern
practice, and its history includes coercion, memory harms, and misuse.
Unlike insulin coma therapy, ECT was not simply abandoned.[16]
Present-day context: current NICE guidance in England
recommends considering ECT for severe depression only in specified
circumstances, with attention to informed consent, anaesthetic risk,
and possible cognitive impairment. This current standard should not be
projected backward onto unmodified historical treatment.[17]
1951–late twentieth century
Drugs changed wards; policy decided what replaced them
Chlorpromazine's psychiatric adoption was a chain of laboratory,
commercial, and clinical decisions rather than one discovery. Synthesized
at Rhône-Poulenc in France in 1951, it was tested by several clinical teams
in 1952; Jean Delay and Pierre Deniker's work at Sainte-Anne Hospital in
Paris helped establish its use, and the drug circulated internationally by
the mid-1950s. It reduced some acute psychotic symptoms and altered ward
management, while also producing serious adverse effects and new patterns
of long-term prescribing.[18]
Medication made outpatient care more feasible for some people, but it did
not single-handedly cause deinstitutionalization. After the Second World
War, exposés of hospital conditions, civil-liberties litigation, new
welfare and health policies, fiscal decisions, and community-mental-health
ambitions also reduced beds. In the United States, promised housing,
income, clinics, and crisis support were often inadequate; homelessness,
emergency care, and jails absorbed some of the people discharged from
hospitals. Closing a ward was not itself community care.[7]
Italy's Law 180 of 13 May 1978 prohibited new admissions to psychiatric
hospitals and planned their replacement by general-hospital and community
services. The closures took years. Calling it only “Basaglia's law” hides
the coalition that made it possible: patients, nurses, students, workers,
administrators, politicians, psychiatrists, and activists including
Franco Basaglia and Franca Ongaro Basaglia. The law's implementation and
local resources remained uneven, so it is better understood as a
contested national transformation than one doctor's victory.[19]
Classification and rights
Diagnostic authority was challenged inside and outside medicine
Classification manuals made diagnoses easier to circulate among clinics,
insurers, researchers, and states, but their revisions were never based on
laboratory evidence alone. In 1973 the American Psychiatric Association
removed homosexuality from the second edition of its diagnostic manual
after gay and lesbian activism, professional debate, research including
Evelyn Hooker's work, and changing social norms. A replacement category
for people distressed by their sexual orientation remained, under changing
names, until 1987. The sequence shows that removal was neither an instant
scientific correction nor a purely arbitrary vote.[20]
Patient, survivor, disability-rights, feminist, anti-racist, and
anti-psychiatry movements did not speak with one voice. They challenged
involuntary commitment, forced treatment, institutional violence,
discriminatory diagnosis, and the exclusion of lived experience; some
rejected psychiatry, while others demanded better and more accessible
services. Their pressure changed laws, research agendas, and the terms in
which professional trust had to be argued.[7][19][20]
Present-day context: WHO and the UN human-rights office now
frame mental-health law around legal capacity, informed choice,
person-centred community services, and reduction of coercion. That guidance
is a current rights standard, not evidence that coercion has disappeared or
that psychiatric history has reached a settled endpoint.[21]
Historical Method
How to read psychiatric evidence
Ask who made the category
A diagnosis may record suffering, but it also records the institution,
law, language, and professional purpose that made the label useful.
Compare editions, countries, and settings before assuming continuity.
Read institutional records against their purpose
Admission forms, statistics, textbooks, and reform reports were made
to classify, administer, teach, persuade, or secure funds. They are
evidence of practice and argument, not disinterested windows onto a
patient's condition.
Do not make one survivor speak for everyone
Letters, memoirs, petitions, art, and oral histories can restore agency
and disclose harm that official files conceal. They also survive
unevenly. A careful account neither subordinates them to medical notes
nor treats one exceptional source as a complete social history.
References
Sources and further reading
-
Allan V. Horwitz, Between Sanity and Madness: Mental Illness from Ancient Greece to the Neuroscientific Era (Oxford University Press, 2019).
Publisher record and DOI.
-
Michael W. Dols, Majnūn: The Madman in Medieval Islamic Society (Clarendon Press, 1992).
Publisher record and DOI.
-
Diederik F. Janssen, “Naming Psychiatry: Apropos Earliest Use of the Term by Karl Friedrich Burdach (1800),” History of Psychiatry 34, no. 3 (2023).
Article DOI.
-
Dora B. Weiner, “‘Le geste de Pinel’: The History of a Psychiatric Myth,” in Mark S. Micale and Roy Porter, eds., Discovering the History of Psychiatry (Oxford University Press, 1994).
Publisher record and DOI.
-
Samuel Tuke, Description of the Retreat: An Institution near York for Insane Persons of the Society of Friends (York, 1813). This is the Retreat's own published account and should be read as advocacy as well as description.
Digitized copy at Wellcome Collection.
-
The National Archives (UK), “Asylums, Psychiatric Hospitals and Mental Health,” research guide to records in England and Wales.
Research guide.
-
US National Library of Medicine, Care and Custody: Past Responses to Mental Health (exhibition, 2021).
Exhibition.
-
US National Library of Medicine, Care and Custody Digital Gallery, including works by Elizabeth Packard and Anna B. Kuster Welty.
Collection catalogue.
-
German E. Berrios, The History of Mental Symptoms: Descriptive Psychopathology since the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge University Press, 1996).
Publisher record and DOI.
-
Paul Hoff, “The Kraepelinian Tradition,” Dialogues in Clinical Neuroscience 17, no. 1 (2015).
Open-access article.
-
Josef Breuer and Sigmund Freud, Studien über Hysterie (Leipzig and Vienna, 1895). Contemporary primary source; its case narratives were selected and interpreted by the authors.
Digitized copy at Wellcome Collection.
-
David Wright, Histories of Madness (Cambridge University Press, 2026), especially the discussion of colonial psychiatry.
Publisher page.
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Nathalie Egalité, “Our Newspaper as Care: Narrative Approaches in Fanon's Psychiatry Clinic,” Journal of Medical Humanities 46 (2025).
Article DOI.
-
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “Euthanasia Program and Aktion T4.”
Holocaust Encyclopedia article.
-
Robert Freudenthal and Joanna Moncrieff, “‘A Landmark in Psychiatric Progress’? The Role of Evidence in the Rise and Fall of Insulin Coma Therapy,” History of Psychiatry 33, no. 1 (2022).
Article DOI.
-
Gábor Gazdag and Gabor S. Ungvari, “Electroconvulsive Therapy: 80 Years Old and Still Going Strong,” World Journal of Psychiatry 9, no. 1 (2019).
Open-access article and DOI.
-
National Institute for Health and Care Excellence, Depression in Adults: Treatment and Management, NG222, section 1.13, “Electroconvulsive Therapy for Depression” (current guidance).
NICE recommendations.
-
Thomas A. Ban, “Fifty Years Chlorpromazine: A Historical Perspective,” Neuropsychiatric Disease and Treatment 3, no. 4 (2007).
Open-access article.
-
Valentina Badano, “The Basaglia Law. Returning Dignity to Psychiatric Patients: The Historical, Political and Social Factors That Led to the Closure of Psychiatric Hospitals in Italy in 1978,” History of Psychiatry 35, no. 2 (2024).
Article DOI.
-
Jack Drescher, “Out of DSM: Depathologizing Homosexuality,” Behavioral Sciences 5, no. 4 (2015).
Open-access article and DOI.
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World Health Organization and Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Mental Health, Human Rights and Legislation: Guidance and Practice (2023).
Official guidance.