Despite decades of policy promises, people with lived experience still struggle to shape the mental health systems that claim to value their expertise. A new perspective article in the International Journal of Mental Health Nursing argues that many are pressed up against what the authors call a “clinical ceiling” – an invisible barrier that keeps lived experience approaches from exercising real authority, even when organizations say they want reform.
“Under the clinical ceiling, lived experience-led approaches can only influence so far because they counter the hegemonic clinical practice models and ideologies focused narrowly on a medical model of diagnosis, symptom management, and treatment,” the authors write.
“Attitudinal and structural barriers impede lived experience-led approaches in these settings, highlighted in the expressed and overarching need for clinical governance, which maintains the status quo and systemic power within traditional models of mental health service delivery. In practice, this means the clinical ceiling reinforces the clinical practitioner as the expert and, too often, decision-maker for other people’s lives. Under the clinical ceiling, lived experience approaches are limited in how much they can influence reform and systemic change as they are invalidated within the context of the conditions and power structures in which they are applied.”
The paper, “Clinical Ceiling: Barriers to Lived Experience-Led Approaches in the Mental Health Sector,” is written by lived experience leaders Katie Larsen, Helena Roennfeldt, and Debra Carlon from Mind Australia, along with Ellie Hodges from the Lived Experience Leadership and Advocacy Network (LELAN), and Louise Byrne, who holds appointments with Lived Experience Training in Queensland and the Program for Recovery and Community Health at Yale School of Medicine.
They write from within the system, drawing on their work developing lived-experience governance and practice frameworks at Mind Australia and their broader advocacy within Australia’s lived-experience movement. Their central claim is that current reforms have stalled because clinical hierarchies, risk regimes, and biomedical assumptions still define what counts as “real” knowledge and power in mental health care. The clinical ceiling, they argue, is what makes that leadership so hard to realize in practice.

The authors examine why lived-experience leadership remains constrained despite growing recognition of the failures of biomedical psychiatry and increasing policy imperatives for lived-experience involvement. Drawing on their insider perspectives as lived experience leaders, they identify systemic barriers that prevent lived experience approaches from achieving meaningful authority in mental health systems.
They borrow the metaphor of the “glass ceiling” from gender studies and adapt it to mental health. Here, the barrier is not sex but the presumed ontological authority of biomedical psychiatry. Clinical qualifications, diagnostic systems, and risk-management frameworks are treated as the only legitimate basis for leadership, while lived experience is welcomed as “input” but rarely as a foundation for decision-making.
Under this ceiling, lived experience workers are often clustered in peer support roles with limited scope and little formal power. In some services, lived experience executives now exist on organizational charts, but the authors note that these posts may lack control over budgets, staffing, or strategy.
Services advertise their commitment to co-production and recovery, but clinical hierarchies remain intact. Lived experience is highlighted in brochures and policy documents, yet sidelined when it clashes with dominant practice models.
The authors trace how lived experience roles in Australia have grown but remain concentrated in peer support positions, with significant underrepresentation in senior management and leadership. Even when lived experience leaders do hold positions of authority, they often lack actual decision-making power and operate within severely limited scopes of practice.
The clinical ceiling operates through several interconnected mechanisms. First, clinical governance frameworks are treated as non-negotiable requirements in mental health settings, automatically privileging biomedical paradigms. This perpetuates what the authors describe as “epistemic injustice”—the systematic dismissal of lived experience knowledge as less legitimate than clinical expertise.
Second, the biomedical model’s focus on diagnosis, symptom management, and risk containment fundamentally conflicts with lived-experience approaches grounded in human rights, social justice, relationships, and connection. The authors note that lived experience approaches locate distress within sociocultural and political contexts, acknowledging racism, discrimination, marginalization, trauma, and the ongoing impacts of colonization—perspectives that directly challenge psychiatry’s individualized, biological framing.
“The medical model perpetuates a deficit approach and low expectations for people based on a limited prognosis for recovery and a focus on biological causes rather than on what has happened to people,” the authors write.
Third, even in settings explicitly designed as alternatives to hospitals and emergency departments, the clinical ceiling reasserts itself. Attitudinal and structural barriers ensure that clinical practitioners remain positioned as the ultimate experts and decision-makers, while lived experience approaches are either diluted or co-opted within dominant biomedical systems.
The authors provide concrete examples of lived experience-led transformation from Mind Australia’s advocacy work, including approaches that:
- Locate distress as interconnected with sociocultural and political experiences, acknowledging the role of racism, discrimination, marginalization, trauma, and the ongoing impacts of colonization
- Radically disrupt and repair the impacts of a mental health system that is culturally unsafe, coercive, and dominated by biomedical approaches.
- Offer ways of working grounded in love, compassion, and connection, creating space for people to trust themselves and understand their experience.s
The authors argue that implementing these approaches requires “the courage to take risks, challenge longstanding power hierarchies, move beyond biomedical framing and its associated responses, centre intersectionality, human rights, and justice, trust in the voices of those who have lived experience, and demonstrate courage to step into new ways of being and doing.”
The authors acknowledge their positionality as insiders within designated lived experience leadership roles, which provides valuable first-person accounts of barriers to lived experience leadership but may also reflect experiences specific to the Australian context, where lived experience workforce development has progressed further than in many other countries, including the United States.
The authors briefly mention that biomedical dominance dismisses knowledge and wisdom from First Nations, multicultural, and queer communities, but do not extensively explore how the clinical ceiling operates differently for lived experience workers from marginalized communities who face compounding forms of discrimination. The intersection of the clinical ceiling with racism, colonization, and other systems of oppression deserves deeper examination, particularly given that people from marginalized communities are disproportionately subjected to coercive psychiatric interventions.
Additionally, while the authors call for lived-experience leadership and radical systemic transformation, they do not fully address the risks of professionalization, which can create new hierarchies within the lived-experience workforce—potentially excluding people whose experiences or approaches don’t align with emerging professional standards or credentialing requirements.
The clinical ceiling concept builds on extensive documentation of barriers to lived experience leadership in mental health systems. Previous research has shown how peer support roles risk being co-opted by clinical systems, losing their radical potential when they’re forced to operate within biomedical frameworks. Studies have documented how peer workers must be “just mad enough”—appearing stable enough to satisfy institutional expectations while maintaining enough visible distress to relate to service users, creating impossible contradictions that undermine their work.
Research reveals that tokenism is widespread in participatory mental health research, with stakeholders expressing deep concerns about the lack of genuine power-sharing and the insufficient funding and training for lived experience involvement. When peer supporters face systemic hurdles in digital mental health initiatives, the research confirms that inclusion without infrastructure is tokenism, not transformation.
The authors’ call to “smash through the clinical ceiling” demands a redistribution of power, investment in lived-experience leadership, and the courage to fundamentally reimagine how we understand and respond to human distress. It demands belonging, not merely accepting and including. Without addressing these deep structural barriers, lived experience involvement will remain what the authors call “tokenistic inclusion”—symbolic gestures that leave existing power hierarchies fully intact.
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Larsen, K., Roennfeldt, H., Carlon, D., Hodges, E., & Byrne, L. (2025). Clinical ceiling: Barriers to lived experience-led approaches in the mental health sector. International Journal of Mental Health Nursing, 34(5), e70159. https://doi.org/10.1111/inm.70159 (Link)













I do think one could place uk firmly in this box as well. Working as a LXE advisor in a large uk mh trust having been bullied out of the Peer Lead role and then effectively pushed out of the LXE role in favour of volunteer lxe, the power imbalance is so huge that effectively the only thing anyone trying to work in the system can do us tweak stuff rather than effect actual change.
I think as well I found arguments within the actual lxe community about leadership as many don’t accept that leadership roles have any place within this work and yet we all build experience over time and part of that recognises that sometimes you leave some things behind as you no longer have direct experience in sone areas but develop different skills to engage, learn and work at different areas in the system. Surely everyone has a place to input in the system, each person has valuable input wherever they happen to be. It’s when you hit the clinical stuff that the arguments against the value of LXE work begin
Part of me feels that one of the most basic things is that clinically trained staff simply don’t value the understanding that comes from living with some form of mental distress or from experiencing the things that we are expected to go through when subjected to the various policies, practices, procedures and laws that unpin mental health systems in the west
My own journey of coming off all meds after 40 years almost 5 years of withdrawal, wiping out my diagnosis given 40 years ago and with a previous medical background I am still seen as someone who has little value when it comes to trying to improve services.
Generally if you tell your story and try to do your best, you get a pat on the head ist it sweet she’s trying hard!
I did read sometime ago that the pandemic had set LXE work back 10 years. I do agree with that as services just had the attitude we know best as go how to manage this even though they were still doing things that affected service users lives and simply refused to allow any input at that time in any decisions that were being made. It was almost as if we were stupid and wouldn’t be able to grasp any of the problems as we had no clinical understanding. Frankly I believe that time destroyed much off the progress that had been made over many years
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Residence training and its hierarchical structure doesn’t work in psychiatry, it only perpetuates poor practice. Doctors follow their superiors by repetition and draw too much confidence from their peers. In a chronically failing system, it’s difficult to find any confidence in senior staff who’ve unquestioningly maintained that status quo.
Note also: patients who acquiesce and with great effort gain recovery/stability are considered ‘experts’ in the literature, and deservedly earn positions on health boards to offer valuable insight. But critically their experience is very different to those who maintain refusal. The composition of the type of lived-experience experts should be clear.
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I agree with you, Val. I think the problem starts with the term “lived experience.” It’s a loaded phrase, and because of that, it ends up functioning a lot like clinical terminology. What really matters is acknowledging that some people dissent from the clinical perspective, and that dissent needs to be recognized as its own legitimate framework for understanding the future of mental health.
There is already a lot of evidence in society that alternative perspectives on mental health have value, and if people truly want to tap into that, they need to take dissent seriously. For example, if a person refuses treatment but is still fully capable of participating in life and decision-making, doesn’t that challenge the entire clinical model? That’s what dissenters are pointing to. It’s not just “lived experience”—it’s dissent from the clinical or biomedical system itself.
It’s similar to joining a large union or organization: your role and your stance need to be clearly defined. People who dissent from the clinical model need a parallel pathway, a system outside of the traditional clinical one, where they can go for support and community without being forced into a medical framework.
Some of these alternatives already exist and are called “community settings,” but maybe we need stronger evidence and clearer definitions of what it means to be a dissenter within the mental-health landscape. This would allow people to engage in mental-health support on their own terms, not only through the biomedical system.
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Yes, arguably dissenters have the bigger picture because they know where all the faults are and have direct contact with many services – ones that don’t even communicate with each other. That’s the gift of desperation. In that state, you test every boundary and possible escape…
Ironically, dissent is often attributed to ‘lack of insight’ as part of a primary diagnosis. But really it’s just a buzzword because capacity is always decision specific unless there is a separate neurological disorder – addiction/learning disability/dementia.
The same for how symptoms and medical history is taken like a checklist of discrete risk load when in fact each have their normative dimension and may not even trouble the patient – like if they were born by c-section, in an urban city, with divorced parents, and their great aunt had epilepsy. That type of information is meant for epidemiologists, not for nurses and doctors to justify compulsion and yet it’s still their approach, all unseen by the patient of course.
The capacity test itself is done convertly too, but if a patient knew the skills they were expected to show they’d probably be able to pass because it’s about entertaining expectations (whilst ignoring the fact you’re in a prison). It’s another version of the ‘guess how many marbles are in the jar’. But even retaining capacity doesn’t protect autonomy in all jurisdictions…
Or patients are pre-emptively medicated then expected to defend themselves at an appeal – despite being robbed of lucidity. It’s heart breaking. Then successful appeals are not made public (the core judge arguments at least), nor settlement agreements for us to learn from.
Not to mention incentives like benefit payments and housing, on the condition that a patient stays within the health system. That skews all the data as well.
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Capacity assessment is always decision specific even if you have detention or any other neurological capacity limiting illness. Having taught on training for staff who are approved MH practitioners and Dr’s on the interface between the Mental Health Act and the Mental Capacity Act looking at which one is the appropriate act to use when considering depriving someone of their liberty, a robust understanding of the assessment of Capacity is essential in getting the call right. With the MCA one might need to consider time of day due to effects of sedative meds etc. The decision that would be asked for the MCA is can the person agree to being admitted to hospital or somewhere. Depending on the response one would then have to decide whether they have the capacity to make that decision under the MCA or is it their actual psychological state that’s leading to the answer and that then encompasses all the stuff about risk, professionals perceptions of MH, power imbalances etc.
Is an MCA assessment likely to be done covertly? Not sure as its decision specific so if you were after them making a decision about something is it likely that decision wouldn’t be disclosed to the person and for what purpose? More likely ditch the MCA and detain under MHA. Law easier for them to manage in a way!
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Gossip plays a huge role. And when one comes out with lived experience they become the source of gossip. I heard abd experienced this and was appalled. And if a vet somehow the stigma is less. One is allowed but if just lived experience one is labeled and just hard.
We need to go to a stance if we all our survivors of something and that way perhaps a true team approach can actually happen including a person with altered mental states. One has to be inclusive with a true treatment team.
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“Risk regimes,” yep, that’s it. The roots of the problem are so deep and rotten, and they can and will heal. If anyone reading this works in the mental health system, please consider the impact of practicing in such a way that the primary goal is to return to function under capitalism. You don’t even know that you’re doing it sometimes. When you think about your work this way, it may help you to see who gets left out of society completely, and I challenge you to think about what your work truly means if so many are discarded by the system you find yourself a part of.
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I think at a larger level the whole point of peer positions in the mental health system is to stabilize the mental health system. To that end there’s bound to be a very real limit to how far within the system peers can go, at all. From a wider perspective it seems that the system will kinda sorta play nice-ish to a point…then no more, I’m afraid.
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I agree with that as unfortunately under the medical model a peer worker won’t necessarily have any “formal” clinical training and so they will never progress fully within a clinical setting. However I do feel they could progress within non clinical settings, training, service development etc where they can bring their own experiences of having used the systems to help and hopefully influence future design and delivery of services. That very much though depends on the perceived value of the experiences they bring, to the clinical staff and “professionals” they are working with.
The medical model im afraid is still so all encompassing within the whole system that i believe the “recovery model” itself firmly sits within this paradigm. The famous Anthony quote which states that recovery is …….. (part of quote!) It is a way of living a satisfying, hopeful and contributing life, even with the limitations caused by illness.
And the south London and maudsley nhs trust states …….Recovery involves living as well as possible.
Both these quotes in my view fit the medical model as they seem to be saying you have an illness within you that you will never fully get over but you can be helped to manage a life as good as possible.
Er hem…….not withstanding the fact that so often the meds themselves seem to hold you trapped within a kind of no man’s land suppressing emotions no you don’t react and cause any issues to those around you.
BUT maybe, just maybe if people were given targetted needs led support rather than diagnosis and a medical solution, so recieved some kind if counselling if needed, but maybe financial, housing, relationship help etc maybe delivered through the open dialogue model, then maybe we will get somewhere rather than only veiwing MH through the medicalising emotional responses to life events however different or “extreme” they may seem to others particularly those who sit in judgement in the Dr’s office deciding on whether what they are seeing is a normal response or not.
What is normal anyway??
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The only way around any of this is to accept we all are survivors of life which is partly trauma abd trauma in all sorts of ways. When there is an imbalance of power between pt and healthcare either or professional abuse is more likely to happen then not. Having a label in sone ways helpful in other ways not and legally having a my label can be highly problematic. One skirts through at times.
If we started off with we all are broken or fragmented then a team of equals instead of done on top of the seesaw and others below in the bottom.
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Peers working for the Mental Health Industrial Complex for the most part function mostly as symbolic gestures.
Tokens aren’t meant to be more than that.
The other day I saw some videos on the recent widespread collapse of American mega churches. I see many parallels slowly happening with American psychiatry. How so?
Because the internet’s slowly making psychiatry’s “clinical ceiling” irrelevant.
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FACT: Psychiatry isn’t collaborative. That’s the reason it’s lasted so long.
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Mental illness does not exist. Pain and suffering is real. Persons with lived experience and training in Intentional Peer Support and like modalities have a profession and still do not see themselves as valuable enough to serve the public as “wellness professionals” or whatever name fits the function. I say stop seeking the small kernels of power the psychiatric system will throw at you to entice you into their realm as low paid workers to fuel the system continuing. Unite in professional groups let your communities know who you are what you have to offer and be done with the system. You are the new system. Organized psychiatry is doomed and will be subsumed by “real” medicine neurology and work with brain diseases as neurology describes. “Healing of the soul” is no longer the province of medicine but is your realm now. Grab it yourself! Don’t seek to reform a doomed system; create your own. It’s time.
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It’s not just that Peer Support people don’t see themselves as valuable enough. The SYSTEM PERSONNEL don’t see them as valuable enough! I agree, the only answer is a new “system” where lived experience takes priority over anything else.
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