Mr. Fontaine makes several good points, and he is certainly not the first person to note that it is a worthwhile endeavor to strive to understand the ancients. Mr. Fontaine has also done a great service by bringing Szasz back into the conversation. But a few corrections and observations are in order. First of all, the first mention of a “psychiatric ward,” was not found in the library in Alexandria. I understand that it was a tongue in cheek sort of comment, but we need to be clear, as Szasz was, about words and their definitions. The PSYCHES IATREION, or healing place of the soul, is in almost every respect the opposite of a psychiatric ward. I’m sure that Mr. Fontaine understands this, but it is important not to confuse the general public. The word “psychiatry” that we have inherited and as it is commonly understood was coined by Johann Christian Reil in 1808. This word was meant to denote the “medical treatment of the soul.” There is a big difference between a library that is a healing place for the soul, and a psychiatric ward that is for the medical treatment of the soul. As Szasz understood, it is absurd to claim that the soul can be treated medically. Again, I’m sure that Mr. Fontaine understands this, but his audience might not. Mr. Fontaine makes good points about the connection between the humoral theory of diseases and the chemical imbalance hoax, and he also makes good points about the illusive nature of “schizophrenia.” Szasz wrote an entire book on the topic called “Schizophrenia: The Sacred Symbol of Psychiatry.” This ought to be required reading for every aspiring psychiatrist. If more people visited the PSYCHES IATREION to study Thomas Szasz’ works, perhaps there would be no more psychiatry, or psychiatric wards. It is also important to recall that Szasz wasn’t just an atomist or an Epicurean who relaxed in his garden and philosophized about the myth of mental illness. He was an abolitionist who saw clearly the destruction that is caused by psychiatry. He attempted to resurrect the work of the original antipsychiatrist, Karl Kraus, and like Kraus, he paid a price for his truth telling. Like Kraus, Szasz has mostly been ignored, and when he hasn’t been ignored, he has either been rejected or misunderstood. For the most part, Mr. Fontaine is right about the decline of philosophy and the rise of “science,” and he is right that microscopes and brain scans don’t tell the real story of what is going on when certain behaviors are diagnosed as “mental illness.” This is something that Szasz understood more clearly than almost anyone, and the reason why he could assert that mental illness is a myth. In many ways, Szasz was the Socrates of psychiatry, and perhaps his suicide was meant to mimic Socrates in some way. He asked many of the right questions, and he articulated good answers to these questions. He championed liberty and responsibility. As a libertarian, his understanding of liberty was somewhat flawed, but at least he understood that psychiatry is a modern form of slavery that ought to be abolished. Hopefully it won’t take 100 years for Szasz’ ideas to gain traction, although it might take that long since even after almost 100 years hardly anyone knows who Karl Kraus was.