Cultivating Perspectives | Managing Suicidal Risk, 3rd Edition

Over decades of teaching clinical psychology Ph.D. students in graduate courses on clinical assessment, treatment, and theory, one inevitably develops certain adages. One of my favorites that is central to successful psychotherapy is the “cultivation of perspective.” In other words, successful psychological care invariably includes a series of shifts in perspective in relation to how the patient thinks and feels which shapes and guides behavior over time. While this notion is central to effective psychological transformation, I also find it relevant to writing books.

The 3rd and Final Edition of Managing Suicidal Risk

A couple of weeks ago, I submitted the 3rd edition manuscript of Managing Suicidal Risk: A Collaborative Approach, which is now going into production to be published by Guilford Press in 2023. This is the final edition of a series for the source book on the Collaborative Assessment and Management of Suicidality (CAMS). With this newest edition, I’ve now written seven books on suicide prevention & treatment, and may continue to write more in the future. But this 3rd edition is special and feels like a fitting end of a 30+ year journey. With four ongoing randomized controlled trials (RCTs) underway and new trials in the works, there will be more journal articles and book chapters about CAMS. But for me, the 3rd edition feels like a final concluding paragraph to a story that I have been writing across the course of my professional life. Completion of this manuscript also marks the end of a yearlong sabbatical from my “day job” as a university professor. I can attest that sabbatical leave is one of the single greatest perks within academic life. As a university professor one is always immersed in the ebb and flow of ideas, data, theories, and constantly shifting perspectives—these are the stock and trade of a scholar’s life. So, to step away from that life to immerse oneself in a singular focused year of reading, researching, and writing is a meaningful alternative reality. As this sabbatical concludes, I am awash in musings about life, death, suicide, hope, hopelessness, purpose, meaning, and what ultimately makes life worth living during these trying times in the world.

The History Behind the First Edition of Managing Suicidal Risk

In 2004 I was elated to land a contract to write the first edition of my book with Guilford. In those days, my SSF clinical research and the nascent development of CAMS was garnering some attention. I was thus eager to promote key CAMS ideas that were novel and controversial in some quarters at the time. For example, the overt goal within CAMS to keep a patient who is suicidal, out of the hospital was not a widely embraced idea. The idea of making suicide the singular focus of clinical care (no matter the diagnosis) was greeted with wary skepticism. Eschewing the use of no-harm contracts in lieu of focusing on stabilization was only beginning to gain some traction in the field at that time. My research mentor, Marsha Linehan, was dismayed that I wanted to write a book before I had definitive randomized controlled trial (RCT) support for CAMS. While there were articles about the assessment aspects of the SSF, there was only one modest non-randomized controlled comparison trial of CAMS with U.S. Airmen who were suicidal. While the data was encouraging, Marsha flatly reproached me, “…you’re jumping the gun, get some RCT data and then write your book!” On the heels of being admonished by Marsha, I reached out to Ed Shneidman—another seminal influence—who was extremely enthusiastic about the prospect of my writing the first book, and instantly offered to pen the foreword to the first edition. For the record, Ed was always keen about the writing of books! In fairness to my friend Marsha, she would have been right had I only written the first edition. But I argued that I could write about the work to date while also pursuing future CAMS RCTs. Marsha saw my point and was extremely supportive of all my efforts to fully test CAMS with grant funded RCTs. Notably, she readily agreed to write the foreword to the 2nd edition of the book published in 2016, remarking on the importance of two published RCTs of CAMS at that time.

The Evolution of CAMS

The 2006 first edition of the book was frankly my version of a “hard sell” for what CAMS could become, largely based on the strength of our SSF assessment research. And while there are still those who mistakenly think of CAMS as a mere assessment tool (focusing on the first page of the SSF’s first session), I’m only too happy to dispel the misconception. I am regularly encouraging people to catch up to the 2nd edition which presented CAMS as a major clinical intervention focused on identifying, targeting, and treating patient-defined “drivers” of suicide. The 2nd edition therefore made a strong case for CAMS being seen as a suicide-focused therapeutic framework increasingly supported by the burgeoning RCT support in the U.S. and abroad. As of this blog’s writing in June 2022, there are now ten published open/correlational trials and five published RCTs. Importantly, a 9-study meta-analysis of CAMS published 2021 marked a watershed moment in the development and empirical support of CAMS. There are two supportive CAMS RCTs now under review for publication, and four more rigorous CAMS RCT’s are ongoing. Needless to say, I took Marsha’s feedback to heart! Moreover, I would say in hindsight that writing that first edition clearly spurred interest in the approach and poured fuel on the fire of CAMS clinical trials by my lab and other investigators.

Perseverance and the importance of Clinical Trial Investigations

I share this not as a self-congratulatory exercise but as a testament to both perseverance and the importance of clinical trial investigations. At 63 I feel blessed to have had such success raising CAMS from its infancy, and nurturing and parenting it into what it has become today. For me, this work has always been first and foremost about the patients and their clinicians. Beyond this clear priority, the importance of scientifically proving that CAMS works has always been paramount. What we now know from clinical trial data is gratifying; in 6-8 sessions CAMS reliably shifts the patient’s perspective on suicide, creating a different way to think and feel about it, and experience life anew. The single biggest effect-size from the CAMS meta-analysis is the fact that CAMS significantly decreases hopelessness while significantly increasing hope (compared to control treatments). CAMS also reliably reduces overall symptom distress across clinical trials. In other words, CAMS does not necessarily eradicate every vestige of suicidality. Instead the data show that CAMS helps make the patient’s suicidal thoughts and feelings more manageable which makes them more behaviorally stable while it opens the door to consider life in a different way. When this occurs, it is a profound clinical achievement that clearly decreases suffering and can help save lives as well.

3rd Edition Highlights

Given all that has happened over the past 25 years, writing the 3rd edition has been a joy. I am delighted to have Thomas Joiner writing the foreword and it is a pleasure to report out what we now know about CAMS—how it works and what it does. The forthcoming SSF-5 has a few tweaks but much of it remains unchanged because of the extant empirical support it has garnered. One tweak is moving from an overall judgment of risk (mild, moderate, high) to a new clinical judgment related to concern about the patient’s relative stability (none, mild, moderate, serious, and extreme). There is a new Stabilization Support Plan (SSP) that can be used with significant others that complements the patient’s CAMS Stabilization Plan. There is further consideration of CAMS driver-oriented treatment planning and a major revision of the optional use of the CAMS Therapeutic Worksheet. There is further exploration of a “post-suicidal life” and a new optional Living Status Form (LSF) that completely mirrors the first page SSF used in the first session for successful CAMS outcomes. These are but a few highlights of the 3rd edition that includes an update of the clinical research literature, particularly the ever increasing CAMS-related studies.

Research is Hard, Expensive, & Endlessly Challenging

As I now reflect on the perspectives I have cultivated in writing the 3rd edition over the last year, a few observations surface. First, I am fortunate to have known Ed Shneidman, Bob Litman, Norm Farberow, and Jerry Motto—our founding fathers—who each influenced me deeply. The early support of Lanny Berman and giants in the field including Aaron Beck, Marsha Linehan, and Don Meichenbaum has been immeasurable. Second, there is nothing quite like clinical trial research. Studying a suicide-focused treatment is frankly harrowing; it is hard to do, expensive, risky, and endlessly challenging. Each study is a gamble; results do not always turn out as we would hope. Yet we always learn and find new ways to persevere based on what we find. And third, writing a series of books is a hell of a way to develop, support, and promote a new clinical intervention. Across three editions I have learned so much, and I have done my level best to translate that learning into helping patients who suffer and their providers who struggle to care.

The Cultivation of Wisdom

As I return to the classroom this fall, I will be heading into my final lap of my long academic run. Another seven years—one more blessed sabbatical—and then a transition into emeritus life and a well-earned retirement (God willing). Given the aches and pains, and various affronts of getting older, there are still certain virtues of becoming senior within our youth-obsessed culture. Among the virtues that rise to the top for me is: wisdom. In my view, wisdom is a remarkably underappreciated construct. In terms of perspective, wisdom is a pinnacle attainment within the pursuit of perspective-cultivation. Wisdom only comes with experience and the accrual of time; it is the operational culmination of an amassed perspective that is reflected in finely-tuning sound judgment. Wisdom is something that is best shared in a focused and measured way, always with a sense of patience and an experience-informed sense of timing. It often involves listening more and speaking less. But when words of wisdom are rendered, such words can carry the gravitas of a well-earned and valuable informed perspective. Simply stated, wisdom is cultivated perspective, par excellence! Having meaningful work, great love, and playing hard and well over the years all seem to contribute to an overall accumulation of experiential wealth that can directly inform one’s perspective and one’s sense of hard-earned wisdom. And apparently writing a few books along the way seems to help too! But for my part, with the time I have left, I will endeavor to listen more and speak less and endeavor to make my words count for the greater good.

How NeuroFlow is Combining Technology and Treatment to Prevent Suicide

NeuroFlow and CAMS-care partner to offer an evidence based therapeutic framework for suicide-specific assessment and treatment on electronic medical records.

Enhancing an already unique partnership, CAMS-care and NeuroFlow are once again teaming up to help create a happier and healthier world. The latest element of the partnership now gives clinicians using NeuroFlow access to the CAMS evidence based Suicide Status Form to treat patients with serious thoughts of suicide.

According to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, there are 12.2 million adults and 3 million adolescents in the United States who are thinking of ending their lives. The Joint Commission, the Surgeon General, the CDC and Zero Suicide all reference the Collaborative Assessment and Management of Suicidality (CAMS) as one of a handful of evidence-based treatments that clinicians should use to reduce suicidal ideation.

Most clinicians today either don’t know that evidence-based treatments exist, have not been trained, or lack access to them in their electronic medical records. Building on an already existing, mission-aligned partnership between the two organizations, this development addresses these issues directly by getting evidence-based resources to care providers when it matters most.

“NeuroFlow is committed to integrating technology with evidence-based practices. Our partnership with CAMS-care provides a solution for the Treat step in Zero Suicide, putting clinicians on the NeuroFlow platform at the forefront of suicide prevention with access to tools that properly Identify, Engage and Treat the patient,” noted Matt Miclette, Head of Clinical Operations.

About NeuroFlow

NeuroFlow provides best-in-class technology and care services for the effective integration of behavioral health. NeuroFlow’s HIPAA-compliant platform supports over 14 million users across 300 health systems, payors, and organizations, helping them capture behavioral health insights and take action to proactively manage individuals and populations holistically.

Visit the NeuroFlow site

About the CAMS Framework®

Developed by David A. Jobes, Ph.D., ABPP, the Collaborative Assessment and Management of Suicidality (CAMS) Framework is a both a clinical philosophy of care and a therapeutic framework for suicide-specific assessment, management, and treatment of a patient’s suicidal risk. With an evidence base supported by multiple randomized controlled trials (RCTs) from around the world, CAMS focuses on empathy, honesty, and collaboration to form a strong alliance between the caregiver and patient to motivate the patient to save their life instead of ending it.

View the Suicide Status Form

About CAMS-care

Our mission is to save lives through effective care by training clinicians to treat suicidal patients. We have developed CAMS Trained™ and CAMS Certified™ designations, which licensed clinicians can achieve through completing training and gaining hands-on experience in the CAMS Framework. Never again feel unprepared when working with a person with serious thoughts of sucide.

Learn more about CAMS-care training & certification

Clinician-Survivors: The Peril and Promise of Risking to Care

Losing someone to suicide

As a clinician and suicide treatment researcher, I have contemplated for decades the prospect of losing someone to suicide. I regularly think about risking to care for people who struggle with thoughts of suicide. Like so many, I have personally known several people who have died by suicide. There was a painful loss of a friend and faculty colleague, who was literally across the hall from me. Tom took his life in the midst of four of us in my department conducting suicide research. Losing Tom was heartbreaking; the eyes of our graduate students were fixed on us faculty as they wondered how could you all have missed this? How could you have let this happen? I have often reflected on the moment a few days before Tom died when he stopped by my open office door to say “hi” and have a quick chat—something we both did countless times over the years as office neighbors. But this particular time after a brief exchange, Tom lingered at my door for a couple of beats as I turned to my computer to respond to my emails. In hindsight, I wish I had taken his subtle cue to invite him into my office to talk in more depth which was something we regularly did. But alas I did not and three days later Tom ended his life. Could my talking to him have prevented Tom’s suicide? I tell myself no, but I nevertheless regret what I failed to do in that moment, given what came to pass. I miss Tom both as a friend and faculty colleague.

Patients who are seriously suicidal

When I was in graduate school I worked as a Psych-Tech on an inpatient psychiatric unit. Within this role I helped avert several suicide attempts (two of which were patients on “15-minute checks” in the middle of hanging themselves in their rooms). While no one died, two patients came within a hair’s breadth of taking their lives. Some years later toward the end of my clinical internship within a V.A. Hospital, I gave a Rorschach Inkblot Test to a veteran who was deeply depressed. This patient struggled with the testing and we feared a closed head injury prompting us to pursue neuropsychology testing. But this testing never occurred because a few days after I met him, this profoundly depressed patient (a father of three young kids) laid down in front a bus as it departed from the hospital bus stop crushing him to death. Did I miss this patient’s potential for suicide? Yes, I had no inkling that this patient would soon be dead. I had met with him for 40 minutes before stopping the Rorschach given his abject inability to do the test. Do I have regrets about missing his suicide risk? Yes of course, but I do not blame myself for missing it.

Losing patients to suicide

As a practicing clinical psychologist for over 35+ years I have likely worked with thousands of patients in the V.A., in university counseling centers, and then as a private practitioner right up to the present day. Over my career, I have seen and treated hundreds of patients who have been suicidal. And while I have cut back on my clinical practice, I still see a couple of patients who are periodically suicidal. Over these years, I have had a half dozen patients make suicide attempts, a few of which could have been fatal but for twists of fate. As I reflect on clinical practice, I have no illusion that I will not lose a patient to suicide just because I am an expert on the topic. When it comes to suicide, no provider is infallible. Indeed, two of my beloved mentors lost patients to suicide. The late Dr. Terry Maltsberger, known for his seminal work on suicide-related countertransference, worked at McLean Hospital and Harvard Medical School, and he maintained a vibrant private practice. Over his career Terry counted himself “lucky” for never losing a patient to suicide after decades of seeing countless patients whom were highly suicidal. But then Terry lost a private practice patient shortly before he retired. Over the years that Dr. Marsha Lineman developed DBT within randomized controlled trials (RCTs), she always saw high risk patients and lost several of her patients to suicide. Thus, even these giants of clinical suicidology were not immune to losing patients.

The need for evidence-based treatment

In more recent years as I have dialed back my clinical practice, I have expanded the clinical trial research of CAMS, resulting in 9 published open clinical trials, 5 published RCT’s, along with two independent meta-analyses that support the effectiveness of CAMS. Given the risk, it is perhaps not surprising that we have also lost 4 patients to suicide who were in CAMS clinical trials. A particularly painful reality for my graduate students and me is watching sessions (on a secure platform) to ensure that CAMS providers are adherent and that RCT fidelity is assured. But in watching these cases for research purposes, we get drawn in and care about the clinicians and their patients. In one particularly challenging case, a CAMS study patient received over 20 sessions only to take her life as she seemed to deteriorate on video before our eyes. This death occurred despite an adherent provider who heroically used CAMS with the best consultation we could provide. We were heartbroken by this patient’s suicide and a tearful grad student asked me, “…after all these years, how do you handle a suicide like this?” My answer: “While losing this patient breaks my heart, and sobers me, it does not deter me from doing what we are doing…and actually it compels me to work even harder…we are not going to not do this kind of research because of this tragedy…we have to remember that we have helped save many more lives than we have lost and that fact keeps me going so others do not have to die this way.”

Using CAMS can help clinical confidence and may comfort family

I have a colleague who attended two early trainings of CAMS and she routinely used it in her counseling center work. After much success using CAMS with counseling center clients, she saw a grad student in chemistry who had a serious history of suicide risk (including two inpatient stays). The provider engaged this client in CAMS for six sessions, but the patient used an “exit-bag” to take his life by inhaling helium. In the midst of her grief, the clinician reached out to me for consultation and together we reviewed de-identified copies of the client’s SSFs during a phone consultation. With the wisdom of hindsight, I noted a few observations for improvement, but overall I felt that the clinician did an excellent job and she was certainly adherent to model. During our call I shared my heartfelt support and gave her encouraging feedback as I expressed my sincere condolences. I reassured her that she had done right by this client. Some six months later, this clinician re-contacted me for a follow up consultation in which I learned that the client’s parents had come across a file folder in their son’s desk entitled “Therapy” with copies of his SSF’s from his CAMS sessions. In that same folder was a printout of internet information about obtaining and then using an exit bag for suicide. The clinician told me that she spoke to the mother, and later the father who joined the 2-hour phone call. Towards the end of the call the bereft mother asked the provider, “…and what can we do for you? Because of course you lost our son too…are you doing okay?” The father finally noted, “…at least we have the comfort of knowing that the counselor who saw our son did not have her head in the sand when it comes to suicide…thank you for what you tried to do for him.”

The risk to care is worth it

When working with suicide risk there are obviously perils and the potential for heartbreak which must be balanced with the promise and rewards of life-saving care. One does not come without the other. What keeps me going is a grim acceptance that no clinician is immune to losing a patient. But I do take comfort and draw strength to persevere in the knowledge that I am able of provide the best possible care that I know to render. What more could I ever aspire to do when faced with the perils of suicide? For me, the risk to care continues to be worth it, because it can literally mean the difference between a death and saving a life. And I find great inspiration in doing right by my patients and endeavoring to foster that same feeling in other providers so they too can provide the best possible care to help save lives.

Suicide Risk: Effective Clinical Assessment, Management, & Treatment

Major misunderstandings about clinical care related to suicidal risk tend to exasperate me a bit. Let me therefore address and clarify some common misunderstandings that can interfere with saving lives. The key constructs at hand are assessing suicidal risk, managing acute risk, and treating suicidal risk.

The Importance of Assessing Suicidal Risk

While it’s true that we cannot reliably predict future suicidal behaviors, assessing suicidal risk remains a crucial step in preventing suicide. The goal of suicide risk assessment is to identify individuals who may be at risk for suicide and develop a safety plan to prevent suicide.

It’s important to differentiate between screening and assessment. Suicide screening is a brief assessment of an individual’s risk for suicide, whereas suicide assessment involves a more comprehensive evaluation of an individual’s suicide risk. Both screening and assessment are important in identifying individuals at risk for suicide and ensuring they receive appropriate care.

Suicide Screening in Managing Suicidal Risk

Identifying individuals who may be at risk for suicide is crucial to save lives, and suicide screening is an effective approach to achieve this goal. Suicide screeners consist of a set of standardized questions or tools that are used to quickly identify individuals who may be at risk for suicide. The aim is to detect the prospect of suicidal risk using a short screener of questions.

ASQ and C-SSRS are two widely used suicide screeners with solid psychometrics, normed on both youth and adult populations. Developed by Dr. Lisa Horowitz at NIMH and Dr. Kelly Posner at Columbia University, respectively, these screeners are non-proprietary and available online. They have various versions for different populations and needs.

Although PHQ-9 is a free online screener, it was originally developed as a depression assessment and is therefore not a perfect screener for suicide risk. Suicide screeners such as ASQ and C-SSRS are preferred due to their psychometric robustness and suitability for suicide risk assessment.

Suicide Risk Screening vs. Suicide Assessment: Understanding the Difference

It is important to understand the difference between suicide risk screening and suicide assessment. Suicide risk screening involves the use of a standardized set of questions or tools to quickly identify individuals who may be at risk for suicide. In contrast, suicide assessment is a more in-depth process that involves the use of longer versions of suicide-specific assessment tools, along with clinical interviewing and relying on a clinician’s clinical judgement.

The C-SSRS is an example of a suicide-specific assessment tool that has longer versions for assessing suicide risk. However, there are many other proprietary assessment tools available that are not widely used. Research has shown that while clinicians prefer relying on their gut judgments, these assessments are never as good as actuarial assessment scales.

It is important to note that suicide risk screening and assessment are not the same as treatment. They are only the start of the process of identifying and addressing suicide risk. Clinicians should be aware of the different suicide screening and assessment tools available to provide the best care for their patients.

Managing Acute Suicidal Crises: The Importance of Intervention

Interventions for managing acute suicidal crises are not a substitute for treatment or assessment. To help individuals in crisis, the Safety Plan Intervention (SPI) developed by Dr. Barbara Stanley and Dr. Greg Brown is widely used and proven to be more effective than the outdated “no-harm/no-suicide” contract. Another tool, the Crisis Response Plan (CRP) developed by Dr. David Rudd and studied by Dr. Craig Bryan, also shows promise in reducing suicidal ideation and suicide attempts. A recent meta-analysis of safety planning studies in Europe confirms that such interventions significantly reduce suicide attempts. However, it’s essential to note that managing an acute crisis is just the beginning and not equal to treating suicide risk.

Treating Suicidal Risk: DBT, CT-SP, BCBT & CAMS

Treating suicide risk is a critical aspect of suicide prevention. Several proven interventions have been developed and tested through randomized controlled trials (RCTs) by independent investigators. Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) is effective in reducing suicide attempts and self-harm behaviors. Cognitive Therapy for Suicide Prevention (CT-SP) and Brief Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (BCBT) have both shown significant reductions in suicide attempts. However, these interventions are not necessarily effective in reducing suicidal thoughts. On the other hand, the Collaborative Assessment and Management of Suicidality (CAMS) is the most supported intervention for treating suicidal thoughts, with five published RCTs, nine published non-randomized clinical trials, and a new independent meta-analysis of nine CAMS trials. It is important to note that treating suicidal risk is not a one-size-fits-all approach, and treatment should be tailored to the individual’s specific needs.

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In summary, some of my biggest professional frustrations around clinical misunderstandings related to suicide risk are implied above but permit me to spell them out plainly:

  1. Simply doing a suicide screening and/or an assessment is not an intervention.
  2. Having a patient complete a Safety Plan is not treatment.
  3. Many treatments used for suicidal risk have little to no empirical support (e.g., medications and inpatient hospitalizations).
  4. Not all suicide-focused treatments impact all aspects of suicidality (e.g., behaviors vs. ideation).

The CAMS Approach: Effective Suicide Risk Assessment, Management, and Treatment

When it comes to suicide prevention, effective risk assessment, management, and treatment are critical. While the C-SSRS is an excellent screener and assessment tool for detecting suicide risk, it is not a treatment for suicidal risk. That’s where the Collaborative Assessment and Management of Suicidality (CAMS) approach comes in. CAMS is a proven, suicide-focused clinical intervention that includes both assessment and treatment components, with extensive empirical support.

One of the unique features of CAMS is its ability to function as a “therapeutic assessment” experience. It also manages and treats suicidal individuals better than any other clinical treatment available, with promising data on suicide attempts and self-harm as well. CAMS is not a one-size-fits-all solution, but it is an excellent option for the largest population in the field of suicide prevention: the 12 to 14 million Americans of all ages who experience serious thoughts of suicide.

Using CAMS can help clinicians avoid common clinical misunderstandings and ensure better clinical care, potentially leading to life-saving outcomes. So while the C-SSRS is a valuable tool for detecting suicide risk, it is important to remember that it is not a treatment. CAMS, on the other hand, is a proven approach that can effectively assess, manage, and treat suicidal risk.

CAMS Meta-Analysis: Intervention for Suicidal Ideation

I am delighted to blog about a brand-new meta-analysis of nine clinical trials showing robust support for the Collaborative Assessment and Management of Suicidality (CAMS). This landmark article has just been published in the suicide prevention field’s premier peer-reviewed scientific journal, Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior.

The CAMS meta-analysis project was led by Dr. Joshua Swift, a well-established psychotherapy treatment researcher, and Associate Professor of clinical psychology at Idaho State University (ISU). Dr. Swift, along with two graduate students, pursued a rigorous meta-analysis of CAMS clinical trials during the summer of 2020, submitting their manuscript for peer-review in the fall. This meta-analysis was sponsored by CAMS-care, LLC with the goal of supporting an independent research laboratory to conduct a demanding and labor-intensive meta-analysis (which is a large study of various studies that meet certain specific selection criteria). It is noteworthy that Swift and his team are not suicide treatment researchers, which helped ensure a fresh and unbiased perspective to this rigorous scholarly undertaking.

To conduct this meta-analysis, the ISU research team identified over 1,000 published and unpublished articles, theses, and dissertations that referred to “CAMS” or “SSF” (the Suicide Status Form is a multipurpose assessment and treatment tool used within CAMS). Using certain selection criteria (e.g., empirical clinical trial data vs. conceptual; having a comparison control group design vs. no control comparison), the team eventually identified and selected nine clinical trials of CAMS comparing it to control treatments, such as “treatment as usual” (TAU) and one Danish trial comparing CAMS to Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT). Once the selected studies were identified, the team performed a series of statistical analyses across the studies to investigate the relative effect sizes related to clinical treatment outcomes (i.e., a measure of the relative impact of the interventions on certain key outcome variables). In other words, the overall impact of study treatments within and across all the selected clinical trials can all be compared within a meta-analysis (additional analyses related to “moderator effects” were also studied).

The results of their efforts were impressive. The research team found that, in comparison to control treatments, CAMS caused significant reductions in suicidal ideation and overall symptom distress while positively impacting hope/hopelessness and increasing treatment acceptability. There was non-significant—but trending—support for its positive impact on suicidal attempts, self-harm, and cost-effectiveness (but more data are needed to see if these effects could reach statistical significance). Importantly, in none of the nine selected clinical trials of CAMS was comparison treatment ever better than CAMS when overall “weighted averages” across studies for each clinical outcome were calculated. There were no significant differences between the use of CAMS with white vs. non-white patients (but more diverse clinical samples are needed; the European CAMS studies to date have primarily had patients who were Caucasian).

Interestingly, the clinical trials in which I (as the creator of CAMS) was directly involved did relatively worse than ones in which I was not involved! Thus, there is no “publication bias” or “allegiance effects,” which underscores the scientific objective nature of the meta-analysis evidence supporting CAMS. Dr. Swift’s team ultimately concluded that CAMS is “Well Supported” as a clinical intervention for suicidal ideation as per Center for Disease Control criteria (which is the highest level of empirical support).

Review the original article by Dr. Swift: The effectiveness of the Collaborative Assessment and Management of Suicidality (CAMS) compared to alternative treatment conditions: A meta-analysis

So, what does all this rigorous research of various clinical trials actually mean? In short, this meta-analysis of CAMS is a breakthrough investigation that caps off almost 30 years of hard-earned clinical trial research, which first focused on the early use of the SSF that later evolved into the suicide-focused clinical intervention that CAMS has become. This meta-analysis convincingly confirms that using this suicide-focused therapeutic framework works for many patients who are suicidal around the world and in different treatment settings (e.g., outpatient settings, crisis clinics, and inpatient settings). It confirms that emphasizing the four “pillars” of CAMS—collaboration, empathy, honesty, and being suicide-focused—is indeed a proven way of reliably decreasing suicidal ideation and reducing serious psychiatric distress.

One of my favorite findings from the meta-analysis is that the most robust weighted average was for the outcome of decreasing patients’ hopelessness while increasing their hope! This is an important finding about which I have previously blogged. For me, the publication of this independent and rigorous study is a career highlight and a convincing testament to the effectiveness of CAMS for patients who are suicidal around the world across a range of clinical settings. We can now say with confidence that CAMS effectively treats the most significant challenge that we face in the field of suicide prevention today: the massive population of people who struggle with serious thoughts of suicide. Given the evidence, we believe that CAMS can effectively treat the “iceberg” of people with suicidal thoughts, a population 225 times greater than the population of those who take their life (Reflections on Suicidal Ideation). If we succeed in our efforts to train more clinicians to provide “upstream” effective CAMS-guided care to those who struggle with serious suicidal thoughts, perhaps we can help divert such patients from going on to attempt suicide or even prevent them from suicide further “downstream.” Thus, the publication of this new meta-analysis supporting the use of CAMS by Swift and colleagues is a major breakthrough to realizing the ambitious goal of reducing suicide-related suffering in all its forms around the world.

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Background on the CAMS Framework

CAMS is a therapeutic framework for effectively treating suicidal risk. It evolved from a line of suicide risk assessment research that initially began at the University Counseling Center at The Catholic University of America in the late 1980s. The key tool in CAMS is the Suicide Status Form (SSF) which guides all clinical activity within the intervention—from the initial session, across all interim care, to the outcome/disposition session, which concludes the use of CAMS. The SSF, therefore, functions as a multipurpose assessment, treatment planning, tracking, to clinical outcome tool. Previous research has shown that the SSF serves as a “therapeutic assessment.” CAMS SSF-based treatment planning focuses on patient-identified suicidal “drivers,” which are the problems that compel them to consider suicide (e.g., a relational breakup or self-hate). CAMS, therefore, targets and treats the patient’s suicidal drivers over the course of care to achieve optimal clinical outcomes such as rapid reduction of suicidal thoughts (in as few as 6-8 sessions), decreased symptom distress, and decreased hopelessness with increased hope.

CAMS’s Purpose and Function

The purpose of CAMS is to engage a person who is suicidal in a strong therapeutic clinical alliance while increasing their motivation to be an active collaborator within their tailored suicide-focused care. CAMS thus functions as a guiding framework to help stabilize the patient’s life while suicidal drivers are addressed and treated throughout the course of care. CAMS concludes with a focus on purpose and meaning and the pursuit of a life worth living.

How Clinicians Utilize CAMS

Clinicians across a range of clinical settings use CAMS to effectively stabilize and treat patients who are suicidal. The framework is atheoretical, which means that it is not tied to a particular theoretical orientation or set of techniques. The SSF provides structure for assessing suicidal risk at the start of each session and ensures that the suicide-focused treatment plan is updated at the end of every CAMS-guided session. The SSF also helps create extensive medical record documentation that reflects effective suicide-focused assessment, treatment planning, and follow-through. This kind of documentation reflects good practice and helps decreased the risk of malpractice liability related to working with patients who are suicidal.

Why CAMS is Effective in Reducing Suicidal Ideation and Associated Issues

Research has clearly shown that when CAMS is used adherently, it reliably reduces suicidal ideation and overall symptom distress, while increasing hope, and improving retention to clinical care. While more research is needed to understand the exact mechanisms of CAMS, we believe that a strong clinical alliance along with empathy and validation are essential ingredients to all successful CAMS-guided care. Research also shows that CAMS seems to change the patient’s “relationship” to suicide, providing alternative coping methods and getting needs met. Beyond helping patients become less suicidal, CAMS also encourages patients towards the end of care to actively consider the pursuit of plans, goals, and hope for the future within a life worth living—a “post-suicidal” life—a life with purpose and meaning.

The Need for Effective Suicide Interventions

There are remarkably few proven-effective clinical treatments for patients who are suicidal. Many practitioners rely on inpatient hospitalizations and psychotropic medications which have limited to no evidence for being effective with suicidal risk. Other effective treatments like Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) or suicide-specific Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy (CBT) are more effective with decreasing suicide attempts, whereas CAMS reliably treats the much larger population of people with serious suicidal thoughts. Moreover, CAMS is relatively easy to learn compared to DBT and CBT and is generally more flexible and adaptable to different settings and theoretical orientations compared to other effective suicide treatments.

The Merit of CAMS is Undeniable

CAMS is a proven and effective treatment that is relatively easy to learn and ensures good practice and documentation that helps decrease practitioner exposure to liability. Research has shown that patients significantly prefer CAMS to usual care, and training in CAMS has been shown to increase provider competence and confidence, which are critical to successful care.

Case Example

In a randomized controlled trial of CAMS conducted at a U.S. Army infantry post, there was a multiply deployed Soldier “John” who came into treatment after being referred by his commander. John had significant combat-related trauma, and he was extremely upset that his ex-wife was moving to another state taking their two young sons. His CAMS clinician—a skilled clinical social worker—engaged him with the SSF in the first CAMS session. They readily identified his suicidal drivers: combat-related PTSD and the potential loss of access to his sons.

Over the course of ongoing interim CAMS care, the clinician effectively treated the Soldier’s PTSD with cognitive processing therapy (CPT). The clinician also arranged for the Soldier to meet with a JAG officer to receive legal consultation related to gaining joint child custody. Beyond treating his drivers, a significant issue with this Soldier was the clear need for John to leave the Army because of his inability to engage in further combat deployments (given the PTSD from his four previous combat deployments). During interim CAMS sessions, the clinician was able to gently persuade John to consider a medical separation from the Army, and together they engaged a VA provider who could see John after separation. They also explored various job options he could pursue as a civilian. Within a few weeks, with legal help from JAG, John obtained joint custody of his children and secured an arrangement for parental visitations. By session 9 of CAMS, John no longer had suicidal thoughts. While he was sad to leave the Army, John was excited about some job opportunities and the prospect of getting an associate degree with his VA benefits. John’s suicidal ideation had significantly resolved in fairly short order, and his symptoms of PTSD and anxiety were notably reduced. John actually felt hopeful about his future and ultimately became eager to leave the Army for a promising life outside the military.

In John’s case, we see all the elements of what Swift et al. found within their landmark meta-analysis of nine CAMS clinical trials. At the conclusion of CAMS, John began to realize a post-suicidal life—one with promise and potential for having successfully completed a therapeutic course of CAMS-guided care. While there were no doubt challenges ahead, John found his way out of a suicide crisis that put his life in peril. After his treatment, John saw that there could be life beyond being a Soldier,; a life with purpose and meaning—a life worth living.

Lethal Means Safety and CAMS

It is interesting how ideas and constructs within suicide prevention that have been around for many years can rather suddenly become popular. For example, the notion of “lethal means safety” (LMS) has been around for as long as I have been in suicide prevention (which is now pushing 40 years).

We used to refer to LMS as “restricting access to lethal means,” but there was a sense that firearm owners might be sensitive to this language as a threat to their second amendment rights. And if there is one thing that is true in the world of suicide prevention, it is that words matter! The most striking example is “committing suicide,” which has now been banished within the field because of how it criminalizes the behavior (“die by suicide” is less stigmatizing). Indeed, recent LMS research has shown the referring to “firearms” is less off-putting to people who own them than the word “guns”—which is good to know! In any case, within contemporary legislation and policy, a particular emphasis on LMS has become red hot.

Understanding Lethal Means Safety

Simply stated, LMS broadly refers to any clinical, community-based, or policy-driven effort that literally blocks or hinders ready access to potentially lethal means that could be used in a suicide to end one’s life. The range of examples is extensive. In the United States, our #1 method choice is by firearm, and brilliant work has been done in recent years in this area by Mike Anestis at Rutgers, Kathy Barber and Matt Miller at Harvard, and Craig Bryan at Ohio State University. While it has been contentious, sincere efforts to engage the firearm community have led to some valuable shared perspectives that can be good for suicide prevention. But there are many other means, including hanging, jumping, drowning, helium “Exit Bags,” medications, razors/knives, carbon monoxide car exhaust, etc.

The Nuances of Lethal Means Interventions

Major population-level increases in suicides have been linked to certain lethal means. A decade ago, dramatic increases in female suicides in rural China were due to toxic pesticides. During the 1970s, Brits in the UK were using lethal coal gas fumes for suicides. These examples are well known because rather simple interventions that involved locking up pesticides and switching over to less toxic forms of coal directly reduced suicides in China and England, respectively.

Keith Hawton at Oxford did a clever study in the UK limiting daily access from pharmacies of over-the-counter pain-relievers and the use of blister packs that literally made it more difficult to gather a lethal dose (of the English equivalent to Tylenol) reduced overdose behaviors! My friend Konrad Michel in Switzerland has been the leader in the use of netting sites where people jump to their death.

During one family vacation, we visited a public park with Konrad at a palace in Bern where netting had been installed below a balcony of an infamous jumping location. Interestingly this net reduced suicide jumps to zero even though one can walk to the end of the balcony and jump off the side, but apparently, no one does this! So lethal means interventions do not have to be 100% foolproof; sometimes symbols of deterrence are quite effective.

Effective Lethal Means Safety Interventions

Within one early CAMS clinical trial, a patient lived in a group house where a loaded handgun was left on the dining room table for anyone that needed it! This was easily removed with the encouragement of the patient’s CAMS clinician. But then the patient had a prized knife collection and, when he became psychotic, he was tempted to stab himself in the eye (a rather gruesome method with uncertain lethality). He refused to surrender or give his beloved knives to another party for safekeeping.

Undeterred, the resourceful CAMS clinician bought him a metal box for his knives with a padlock and gave him the key. On top of his box was a taped copy of his CAMS Stabilization Plan. The patient was moved and grateful for this gift from his intrepid provider.

I once had a patient who almost jumped to her death but for a last-minute grab of her boyfriend (who I called to rescue her) as she started going over the railing. Following a two-week psychiatric hospitalization, we all agreed to have her life-saving boyfriend (who was a carpenter) build a wooden buttress to the sliding glass door to her balcony so she could not jump to her death.

Many of us who have seen suicidal patients over many years have countless stories of lethal means safety interventions that we have orchestrated that have made our patients immediately safer and less tempted by readily available lethal means. In my professional trainings, I often note that ready access to lethal means poses a “rival” approach to suicide-focused treatment for addressing the needs that underlie all potential suicides (e.g., unbearable suffering, isolation, financial ruin, etc.—what we call “drivers” within the CAMS Framework®). By removing temptation, the patient is more inclined to get needs met differently, more therapeutically, and the risk of suicide death decreased accordingly.

The CAMS Evidence-Based Approach to Lethal Means Safety

Within CAMS, lethal means safety is central to the evidence-based treatment framework. In fact, discussing access to lethal means is the first step in the CAMS Stabilization Plan. My friends Barbara Stanley and Greg Brown have developed the famous Safety Plan Intervention, which is a “first cousin” of the CAMS Stabilization Plan and Rudd and Bryan’s Crisis Response Plan. But in contrast to the CAMS Stabilization Plan, “Making the environment safe” is Step # 6 of the Safety Plan. The reason LMS is the first consideration of the CAMS Stabilization Plan is because of the differences between a one-shot Safety Plan Intervention and on-going treatment of suicidal risk, which is the emphasis in CAMS.

A common goal in “standard” CAMS is to keep a person who is suicidal out of the hospital if at all possible. In my view, the decision not to hospitalize a patient in CAMS is almost always rooted in the quality of the Stabilization Plan we are able to negotiate with the patient. If there is strong push back about lethal means, we may have no choice but to hospitalize. But if I can persuade a patient to surrender a stash of pills to their partner for safekeeping or convince another patient to use a cable lock on their firearm for the duration of our treatment, the need to hospitalize is often eliminated. We can then proceed in good faith to complete the balance of the CAMS Stabilization Plan, which focuses on different problem-solving techniques, who to contact in crisis, identifying people who will help decrease interpersonal isolation, and addressing potential barriers to receiving CAMS-guided care. CAMS Treatment® planning then concludes with a discussion of patient-defined drivers and how we plan to target and treat those problems and issues over the course of using CAMS. LMS is thus central to the CAMS Framework.

Unconventional Care Saves Lives

Several years ago, I was in the lab watching a digital recording of a CAMS session for fidelity purposes in our Army randomized controlled trial of CAMS. One of my favorite therapists in the study was working with a challenging case of a Soldier who had been repeatedly sexually assaulted. In turn, she kept a handgun in a side table drawer next to her bed for protection. However, her method for suicide would be to use this very firearm. She was emphatic that removing the gun was simply not negotiable because of the rapes she had endured—a definite therapeutic standoff!

The clinician thoughtfully considered the potential clinical standoff for a moment and then proposed the following: make a box to store the gun and to put a picture of the Soldier’s niece on the box as a reminder about why she should fight to live (her niece was her #1 Reason for Living on the SSF assessment). The Soldier readily agreed. I was worried, but the clinician felt confident in his intervention. In her next CAMS session, the patient brought in a work of art: a beautiful wooden box that she made in a shop with decoupaged images of the beloved niece! In my consultation with the provider, I pushed to swap-out the firearm with a taser, but the patient had zero interest in my helpful LMS suggestion! This remarkable woman responded beautifully to CAMS in 8 sessions.

In any final successful course of CAMS-guided care, there is a question about “what made the difference?” on the final outcome-disposition SSF. This Soldier, without hesitation, said, “CAMS showed me I could get my needs met without resorting to suicide…and you let me keep my gun!”

The NEED for Competence and Confidence

I recently recorded a two-hour workshop on Zoom for a virtual presentation at the Psychotherapy Networker Symposium Conference that is held every year in Washington DC (in non-pandemic times). This conference is a major professional event for psychotherapists across disciplines and I was thrilled to be invited to do this workshop.

To my delight, the organizers proposed the following title: “Treating Suicide Risk with Competence and Confidence: How to Move Beyond our Fears.” I liked this title for many reasons but mostly because of the emphasis on competence and confidence which is critical for effectively working with patients who are suicidal.

I also loved the idea of “moving beyond fear” because for many practitioners, fear is what drives defensive practices and/or avoidance of patients who are suicidal. Clinical fears include fear of litigation should there be a bad outcome, fear of not being able to control the patient’s self-destructive behaviors, fear of investing in therapeutic care and concern for patient only to lose them to suicide. As I have previously blogged and written about many times, clinicians’ fear and avoidance of patients who are suicidal is a major barrier for patients receiving effective and potentially life-saving care.

Upon reflection the presentation turned out well, I think? One never knows talking at their laptop for two straight hours. In the virtual workshop I did my usual tour, beginning with the field’s historic mishandling of people who are mentally ill, which is frankly a pretty horrifying story of marginalizing persons who suffered, seeing them as deviants possessed by evil spirits. It is noteworthy that every major world religion has some form of ritual exorcism. Long before effective treatments took root, societies around the world largely responded to abnormal behavior through prayers, exorcism rituals, and crude interventions such as waterboarding and trephination (drilling large holes in the cranium to release evil spirits). Critically, people who were mentally ill were marginalized to the fringes of society as they were literally chained up in dank cellars, imprisoned in appalling jails, and ultimately sent to asylums.

There was a movement in the late 18th century led by Dr. Phillipe Pinel outside of Paris to liberate people who were mentally ill from their chains with the advent of so-called “moral treatment.” While philosophically compelling with some who aspired to make asylums a genuine kind of sanctuary (e.g., the 19th-century Kirkbride asylums in the United States) the reality of moral treatment was not reflected in the reality of “care” for those who struggled with mental disorders.

In fact, “lunatics” were warehoused, restrained, assaulted, and later in the 20th century given brutal treatments of electroconvulsive therapy (often breaking bones as patients convulsed) and the horrific use of “icepick” lobotomies. The latter was particularly crude and inexact—a Washington DC physician name Walter Freeman performed thousands of lobotomies, driving from hospital to hospital performing up to a dozen lobotomies per visit. He would take a sharp steel tool resembling an icepick that was hammered through the orbit of the patient’s eye through the cranium to sever—rather ineptly—portions of the frontal lobes. The procedure was initially celebrated as a wonder cure because patient behavior changed dramatically (despite patients dying and some receiving multiple “treatments”). Bottom line, not good.

Taken together it is a horrifying history that reflects a fundamental fear of mental illness and a societal desire to control abnormal behaviors by any means. Doctors largely sought to dominate, control, and restrict potentially undesirable behaviors—bizarre movements, violence, and of course suicide.

I take pains to share this sordid history because it is truly relevant to contemporary care. Certain patients—such as people who are suicidal—can evoke intense fear and be experienced as a threat, an adversary, and someone to be avoided. But in the clinical life-saving business it is extremely difficult to help save a life from suicide if the clinician is fundamentally afraid of their patient. And as I have noted in this blog there is a significant historic lineage of non-therapeutic fear.

The presentation then delved into my review of screening for suicidal risk, the use of assessment tools, and the relative limits—and problems—related to clinical judgement, not the least of which is the notable overconfidence that clinicians have in their “gut” judgement and their general aversion to assessment tools therein.

Next, I reviewed interventions that focus on the management of acute suicidal crises (e.g., safety planning, use of the National Lifeline and Textline, and lethal means safety). Having reviewed these topics, I then delved into the evidence-base of suicide-focused treatments (DBT, CT-SP, BCBT) which are supported by rigorous randomized controlled trials (RCTs) and the notable limits and lack of RCT support for medications in relation to suicidal risk. It follows that a good portion of the second hour focused on CAMS as a patient-centered, evidence-based, suicide-focused, clinical treatment supported by five published RCTs.

Here is the point. I do workshop talks all the time; I can expand, or contract the content, as needed depending on the forum and audience. But what really struck me about this Zoom-based workshop was that it targeted an audience that may feel fearful of suicidal risk, which led to my sponsors’ proposed title. They expressly wanted me to address an audience of practitioners who need to move beyond fear to better help patients who struggle with suicidal thoughts.

Within this simple realization a few things struck me. I learned years ago in graduate school about the critical role that fear plays in our lives. Fear is limbic-based (the “older” part of our brain) and primitive. Fear is central to our “fight or flight” response that kept our ancestors alive. But fear also has the power to paralyze—the proverbial deer in headlights. I also learned early on with a patient who was profoundly traumatized and diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder (i.e., multiple personality disorder).

Together we discovered a wonderful therapeutic “fairy tale” book about dissociation that noted the following key idea:  behind every fear is a legitimate need. Thus, if an ancient ancestor was chased by a  sabretooth tiger, it evoked tremendous fear and a clear need for safety from the predator so as to not be devoured. It follows, that in a contemporary sense, if we fear working with a person who is suicidal, there is a fundamental need for clinical competence (to do something that works) and confidence to work effectively with this inherently scary issue.

Fortunately, CAMS can offer a reliable path to clinical competence and confidence, which is the best way to deal with the clinical fear. Competence is rooted in doing something proven effective; with competence, confidence can follow. And here is the thing about confidence: it creates a placebo effect in the patient. If we can therefore be competent and confident, patients feel it and it changes their brain chemistry (as proven by placebologists who study the effect and changes that are seen in MRIs). And here is another thing about confidence: we know that training in CAMS significantly increases clinician confidence as per a rigorous study of trainings conducted by Dorian Lamis and his research team in Georgia (Associations of Suicide Prevention Trainings with Practices and Confidence among Clinicians at Community Mental Health Centers).

In summary, in the face of our fears about working with people who are suicidal, we can realize and embrace our need to practice with competence by using evidence-based approaches like CAMS. Moreover, we also know that training in CAMS significantly instills confidence in mental health providers, which changes brain chemistry and may play a critical role in in helping to clinically save lives.

Hope

Hope is such a simple word. Yet for suicidal people in the depths of despair, hope is a beacon that they crave more than anything – but abjectly fear, because to believe in hope means to risk catastrophic disappointment. What I have come to learn over my decades in suicide prevention is that hope is everything to finding a way out of suicidal hell and into a life worth living with purpose and meaning.

There is a recent study of CAMS that I will be talking and writing about for years to come. For now, I will await publication of the investigation before saying more. But one of the key findings that most warmed my heart was how hope is engendered in suicidal patients engaged in CAMS.

Indeed, we know across clinical trials of CAMS that hopelessness is reliably decreased over the course of care while hope—and even optimism—is generated by the intervention as well. I know hope when I see it, and sparks of hope routinely occur at certain key moments across CAMS sessions. Within the first session of CAMS when the clinician and patient collaboratively complete the initial Suicide Status Form assessment there are often tiny sparks of hope. As the patient warily rates and describes elements of their struggle and the empathic clinician listens, validates, and actually gets what they are describing, there can be a glimmer of hope. When the clinician helps the patient elaborate the struggle and does not judge them, shame them, or ever wag a finger, there can be a flash of hope. When the clinician candidly speaks to the goal of keeping even a relatively highly suicidal person out of the hospital (if at all possible), there can be a spark of hope. So you are not going to try to get rid of me and lock me up?.

When the dyad carefully develops the CAMS Stabilization Plan for the patient and the clinician notes that the patient can learn to cope differently without resorting to suicide, there is often a curious look and sometime a twinkle of hope. Perhaps most dramatically, when the dyad completes the initial CAMS Treatment Plan in which the patient’s own suicidal “drivers” are identified (i.e., issues and problems that compel the patient to entertain suicide), goals and objectives are set, and potential interventions to target and treat those very drivers are noted, there is often an unmistakable flash of hope in the patients eyes. “Can you really treat these problems?” says an incredulous patient. In turn, the clinician replies, “…yes, of course we treat these problems all the time and if we do so successfully with you, perhaps you will come to see that you don’t need to end your life.” This is how CAMS-inspired hope may emerge in a first session.

My Suicide Prevention Lab (SPL) at Catholic University has been dedicated to many suicide prevention-oriented studies over many years. But one of the biggest tasks of the SPL my graduate students and I undertake is the fidelity and adherence work that we routinely do as part of clinical trials of CAMS. Fidelity is a solemn obligation within clinical trial research that requires that research investigators ensure that experimental and control treatments are indeed different from each other.

For example, within a CAMS randomized controlled trial (RCT) that means clinicians in the CAMS arm of the trial are doing the intervention adherently (as it was designed to be used) and clinicians in the control arm of the trial are not doing CAMS and are adherently providing the comparison treatment (e.g., usual treatment or Dialectical Behavior Therapy within our trials).

Here is the point: our job in these RCTs is to watch a lot of digital recordings of clinicians doing CAMS and often watching control sessions to ensure that the control treatment is being done properly. In other words, this fidelity work means we watch hundreds of hours of therapy sessions with suicidal people who are willing to participate in a RCT. It is from this perspective that my trained eye has come to recognize the behavioral, verbal, and emotional indicators of hope.

Hope is sometimes reflected in the almost shy glance that a patient makes towards the clinician—it is a look that says, are you for real? Can I trust you? Do you really mean it when you say you care about me? In later interim sessions of CAMS, hope is seen in a patient who sits up just a little straighter than they did in earlier sessions and who is genuinely interested in the clinician’s comments and input on their life and death struggle. Hope is seen in the flicker of smiles between patient and therapist as the dyad reviews “a good week.” Hope is often seen in an outcome-disposition session that formally draws CAMS to a close, wherein both parties reflect on how far they have come, appreciating and taking stock of gains made, and look forward to the road ahead in the patient’s “post-suicidal life.”

While the quantitative clinical trial results are robust, we know that decreasing hopelessness and increasing hope within CAMS is the lifeblood of a successful course of CAMS-guided care. Hope is simply the remedy to suicidal despair, desolation, despondency. And when you have seen the spark of hope in the eyes of suicidal person, you will never forget it. It is as if an entire inexorable fatal world view has been paused, gradually reconsidered, and even transformed into a world of potential possibilities.

In truth, hope does not happen every time with every patient. But within adherently provided CAMS we know that hope happens more often than not, and when hope happens truly anything is possible.

Such a simple word, hope, but in the suicide prevention and life-worth-living business it speaks volumes.

Considering Suicidal Ideation—Again!

In recent years I have spoken, published, and blogged about the relative importance of suicidal ideation as a public health concern that does not get the proper health concern of the public. A couple of other reminders came up just last week that again underscores the need to fundamentally shift our focus to appreciating the magnitude of the suicidal ideation population, which is 225 times greater than the population of those that die by suicide.

I was reviewing the most recent 2019 data from SAMHSA about the incidence of suicide-related concerns among American adults that calendar year. Take a close look at Figure 60 from the SAMHSA report—does anything particularly strike you?

Serious Thoughts of Suicide Graph

As I look at this figure my eyes are naturally drawn to the highlighted blue, green, and yellow regions that respectively reflect those who made suicide plans, those who made plans and attempted suicide, those who attempted suicide, and finally those who made no plans and attempted suicide (not sure how that works exactly but such are the data).

But upon some reflection, what jumps off the page to me is that the outer circle depicts 12,000,000 American adults with serious thoughts of suicide which is not highlighted, earning only a modest gray coloring. This SAMHSA report figure thus completely fails to highlight the true objective magnitude of our suicide ideation challenge!

My question is: Why is this population graphically trivialized in this figure? In truth, 12M Americans is a massive population, roughly the size of the state populations of Pennsylvania or Illinois. If we are truly examining the challenge of suicide as a public health issue, we of course care deeply about 48,000+ of Americans who died by suicide in 2018, and the 1.4M attempting suicide in 2019 is extremely concerning as well – but frankly these populations are utterly dwarfed by the massive suicide ideation population. And it logically follows that if we were better at identifying and treating this gigantic population, we may have many fewer attempts and ultimately many fewer completions. Right?

As I recently blogged, I have been honored to be a part of a small team that is working to write an addendum to the 2018 Recommended Standard Care for People with Suicide Risk: Making Health Care Suicide Safe promulgated by the National Alliance for Suicide Prevention. This draft addendum focuses on the apparent inclination of some health care systems to discontinue or suspend screening and assessment of suicidal risk since the Covid-19 pandemic which has driven our health care to online/telehealth modalities. In the forthcoming addendum there is a reassertion that even within telehealth there is a reasonable way to screen and assess for suicide risk (even if this is done asynchronously). In the addendum we have argued that not asking about suicide is no way to go about actually preventing suicides. After all, it is hard to save lives if we do not know that patients are at risk.

Here is the point: in my final review of the carefully written document our language tended to emphasize depression and suicidal behaviors, not even mentioning the importance of suicidal ideation. Even I, who have held these beliefs for some time, completely missed this omission in early drafts!

Mind you, depression and suicide are not synonymous; out of the 132 Americans that die from suicide each day in the U.S., roughly half may be clinically depressed (many others will be psychotic, anxious, substance abusing, personality disordered, etc.). In other words, depression is not even remotely the cause of many of our suicides since millions of Americans are clinically depressed and only a small fraction of them die by suicide.

In my final review of our addendum I made edits to de-emphasize depression and suicidal behaviors in lieu of emphasizing suicidal ideation, particularly as it relates to screening and assessment within a telehealth modality during a worldwide pandemic. I am pleased to note that while depression remains in the document, we have properly underscored the import of suicidal ideation and cited the SAMHSA paper noted above.

This is not going to be the last time that I appeal for us to recalibrate our suicide prevention policy, research, and clinical care focus to stop this peculiar bias to overly focusing on suicidal behaviors while dangerously disregarding suicidal ideation. My journal papers should not be rejected because CAMS “only” reduced suicidal ideation. Indeed, I would note within the clinical treatment research that other excellent suicide-focused interventions (e.g., DBT, CT-SP, and BCBT) do not reliably reduce suicidal ideation like CAMS does. However, these interventions more reliably reduce suicide attempts (while CAMS has only promising behavioral data thus far). The clinical trial data to date are exactly why I have strongly argued for a “one size does not fit all” approach to care for suicidal risk.

So, I am going to keep on banging the suicide ideation drum, appealing to those in our field to more completely consider the import and magnitude of the suicidal ideation population. In truth, if we truly aim to reduce completed suicides, our research, practices, and policies must better target and treat the underlying iceberg of suicidal ideation so as to reduce the tip above the water of suicide attempts and ultimately deaths by suicide.

First Touch: Administrative Policy vs. Caring Concern, Empathy, Validation, and Truth

“I sure hope I can get her to come back so I can do CAMS with her. I think she would really benefit…but I’m afraid that she may have been scared off by our bio-psycho-social intake!”

This was said to me on a coaching call last week with a savvy Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC) I had previously trained, along with others who work with veterans and their dependents. This colleague was referring to the 19-year old dependent of a divorced veteran, who had been referred by her veteran father after she made a low-lethality overdose. The patient had just endured a 2-hour intake process required by agency policy, and this counselor was having trouble reaching her after her experience.

This account pains me greatly, and it is certainly not the first time I have encountered this problem – the effects of extremely long intake processes and administrative paperwork that most clinical settings require before any therapeutic care is provided to suicidal patients. I have been told by such agencies that “there are no exceptions.” So, even though a person is struggling with acute suicidal thoughts and/or behaviors, he or she must first endure hours of questions – some as inane as their birth order and whether they were delivered by forceps – before receiving any therapeutic assessment or suicide-specific treatment.

I believe there is often a unique moment, a window, of potential engagement that is squandered by unnecessarily long intake interviews and administrative paperwork. Administrative exceptions can and should be made for those who struggle with suicide. If we truly aim to clinically prevent suicides, the first touch experience for patients should be one of caring concern, empathy, validation, and truth – in other words, the CAMS assessment. I know this to be true because a published metanalysis proves that the CAMS assessment functions as a “therapeutic assessment” and further, we know from a randomized controlled trial (RCT) that suicidal patients prefer CAMS to usual care.

I face opposition to my position on the matter regularly. I win some, and I lose many. My first significant win occurred many years ago in a randomized controlled trial at a large VA Medical Center. In this instance, The Joint Commission’s “staff expert” was insisting on the first contact with the suicidal patient to be a 2-hour intake interview. The Chief of the service sided with me and agreed CAMS should be the first touch. I was thrilled to take the “win”.

However, at another large military medical center we were discussing how an abbreviated version of CAMS could be used in their emergency department, and the debate did not go my way. In this instance, not only was the provider arguing to initiate contact with a suicidal patient with an exhaustive intake procedure, but also stated “we could never engage on the topic of suicide so directly and quickly without forming a relationship first”, which he described as chatting about “the weather, sports, and the usual stuff”. I adamantly shared my opinion that such superficial chit-chat is ridiculous (it not only trivializes the seriousness of the patient’s suicidality, it is also transparently patronizing) and is no way to form a meaningful clinical relationship with a suicidal person.

As you might guess, I didn’t make many friends that day. Instead I was summarily dismissed, with the suggestion that I knew nothing about their military suicide patients and the challenges they faced. In truth, I have worked with suicidal military veterans for over 30 years, covering all four branches of the armed forces. I was appointed to a Veterans Blue-Ribbon panel by the Secretary of the VA, and to the Department of Defense Suicide Prevention Task Force. I was selected as a member of these investigative groups to become intimately knowledgeable of this “military suicide problem” in order to develop solutions. Finding the solutions was not the most difficult task – getting military mental health settings to implement them proved to be almost impossible.

The negative and vexing experiences these rigid and fruitless intake procedures cause simply must be reconciled with the reality of the challenges facing the suicidal person—and their provider—each time someone struggling seeks help that might avert a suicide outcome. The reality is that it is very scary for many to seek mental health care at all, let alone seeking care when one is contemplating ending their life by suicide. To be greeted by a stack of administrative documents and then subjected to an exhaustive “required” intake interview experience that may last up to two hours throws cold water on a patient’s motivation to seek care—it can be an instant turn off. Such requirements may close a window of opportunity to help save a person’s life through an evidence-based, suicide-focused treatment like CAMS. If we truly aim to clinically prevent suicides, the first touch experience for that patient should be one of caring concern, empathy, validation, and truth. Not data gathering and procedure-for-the-sake-of-procedure.

Our clinical experience and extensive research have shown that CAMS can be used to create a strong therapeutic relationship, forged in the crucible of the suicidal crisis. This is because CAMS providers go right into the patient’s suicidal struggle as they quickly engage with empathy, collaboration, and honesty using the Suicide Status Form.

I understand how people get comfortable with how things have always been done and fall into an “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” mentality. But what if it is broken? What if there is research evidence that proves it is broken, and by not fixing it many lives are lost? Shouldn’t we step out of this “comfort zone”? There are examples all around us of courageous people taking a stand to change policies that are wrong and harmful to individuals. It won’t be easy and it will be a long process, but those of us who believe in putting our patients first must fight for what the research is telling us and fix the currently broken mental health care system.

I will continue to beat this drum. In the meantime, for those mental health professionals who approach me with their challenges of how to effectively engage a suicidal patient when burdened with long intake interview requirements, I recommend that they not give up on the person. Follow up with the patient by phone or e-mail to get them to come back for a CAMS assessment and treatment. Additionally, when sending e-mail, include information about CAMS (Fact Sheet for CAMS Patients). Besides working to change the system from within, it may be the best we can do for now. Lack of purposeful and caring follow-up may result in lost opportunities, and I fear possibly lost lives.

I do hope that 19-year-old patient comes back to give CAMS a try – it could make all the difference in her world and give her a second chance at life.