An Open Letter to Reid Hastings, CEO of Netflix, about "Thirteen Reasons Why"

Mr. Reid Hastings

CEO Netflix

100 Winchester Circle

Los Gatos, CA 95032

May 8, 2017

Dear Mr. Hastings:

I am sure that you have heard from many people requesting that you remove the recently aired Netflix program, “Thirteen Reasons Why” from your roster of programs. I would like to add my name to those making this request.

Unfortunately, even as I write this to you, I know that my appeal to you may be futile and may be ignored, as I just learned this morning that not only will Netflix not remove this program, but that a second season is now planned as well. To hear this is very painful for me personally, and for many other parents of children/adolescents with mental illness. There are so many of us out there, and many of us are Netflix customers.

Recently, I watched the program to see what the whole brouhaha was about, and as the mother of a child who took his own life, I can promise you that you have sent a very dangerous message out into the world. Your "Hannah" is a hero; she records her tapes and 'sacrifices' her life, with the result that the other characters evolve or get their just desserts. For example, as a result of listening to the tapes “Jessica” finally deals with her rape, “Bryce” finally is outed as a rapist, “Sherry” faces up to her responsibility in a crime, etc. - all because of Hannah’s suicide and how she approached it. This program has been, and will be watched by kids who are struggling with mental illness; they will find glory and nobility in suicide. Even without the overlay of mental illness, this is a dangerous message to send to adolescents; but in particular, for those who suffer from a mental illness, whether it is known to them and their parents, or unknown, it can trigger suicide, by feeding into a desire to make sure their lives “count for something” – something that they doubt to the depth of their being.  It will make them believe that taking their own lives is a reasonable option when they are in emotional pain. I do not exaggerate by saying that this prospect is horrifying. I do not exaggerate by saying that this program will cause deaths.

May I also add that hiding behind the excuse that the program will begin a conversation about important issues like bullying, adolescent date rape, the need for parental supervision, drinking and drug abuse, etc., is at best perverse and misguided when put in the context of the fact that it glorifies the taking of one’s own life. Perhaps, it is the case that the program is starting a discourse, but, the program itself has been seen, and can be seen by vulnerable people who will no doubt be affected by it. I repeat for emphasis, and I have no doubt, as terrifying as it is, that, unfortunately “Thirteen Reasons Why” will cause some young people to take their own lives. That's the problem; can you understand that? Is there no better way to start a discourse and bring important issues to the fore, without encouraging or seemingly justifying suicide or presenting it as a viable option for those in emotional pain?  

The results of a risk-benefit analysis are obvious……is even a lot of discourse worth the single death of a suffering child, who gets this horrible message?

I understand that Netflix is a for-profit corporation and you have an obligation to your investors. Of course, the company has the right to act in a manner that produces a profit. I am certain that the ratings of this engaging program are rewarding and that it is so difficult to forego this. But, those parents who “get it”, and I, appeal to you to do the right thing, and to not endanger any more of our children with this irresponsible action.

Do you think that among your shareholders or employees that none has a child who is suffering from a mental illness, or even if not, that none has an impressionable adolescent that is experiencing typical adolescent angst who could be affected by this dangerous program? I would bet that there are many.

Even if you are unmoved by the potential adverse impact of your program, aren’t you, as a prudent executive concerned that Netflix could be sued over this? Is it possible that the parents of a child who takes his/her own life, and copies “Hannah’s” tape idea, could sue you? Or, would you view this as simply more PR? (Of course, no PR is bad PR, right?) 

This is a tradeoff, a test of integrity, if you will, for Netflix. Are the ratings worth the death of a child and the devastation of a family?  What will be Netflix’s answer to this question?

I am under no illusion that this letter will change your mind, but I write it because I hope that maybe it will.

Thank you,

  

Ruth Tepler Roth

Originally published in The Jewish Week; republished here with permission.

Telling the truth about mental illness

Our son’s illness, when we finally became aware of it, was a magnitude 8 earthquake in our lives that came without any warning. It was a calm and beautiful day in July when I found him the first time he tried to end his life. The mechanics of saving him, calling 911, unlocking and opening the door for the rescue team, calling my husband, and following Jonathan’s ambulance to the hospital all happened on autopilot, step 1, step 2, step 3, and so on. The moments in between and following his arrival at the hospital crawled as I waited to hear whether my son would live and with what possible damage, and wondered in complete ignorance and fear what the next steps would be. How could this possibly be happening, how it was possible that I, who had spent countless hours talking with Jonathan, didn’t realize the trouble he was in?

He made it through that episode alive and with minimal impairment to his body. Once out of the hospital he appeared to be the same Jonathan that he always was: kind, loving, caring, bright, engaging, witty. He begged us not to tell anyone what happened – not that he needed to. Of course we would keep this a secret, for so many reasons. We didn’t want to have our son labeled ‘crazy’; we didn’t want him to endure any comments or knowing glances from well-meaning people. We were private people who never revealed our innermost issues to anyone outside our family. And we certainly didn’t want our son to feel exposed.

Without realizing it, by keeping this secret, we validated Jonathan’s feeling of shame. Not only would he have to battle his illness, he would bear the burden of shame about it as well. From this point on, our family would have to present an outside face to the world that did not represent our inner reality. We didn’t comprehend the gargantuan weight we would assume with this decision. Would we have acted the same way had Jonathan been diagnosed with cancer, gastrointestinal illness, severe cardiac illness, or diabetes? Absolutely not — we would never have hidden any of those illnesses. Ask me now and I will tell you that I wish I had shouted it from the rooftop, done anything, taken out an ad in The New York Times: “My son has a devastating mental illness. Can someone, anyone, offer me some advice to save his life?” Yes, I would have gone that far.

Five months later I found Jonathan again — this time too late. I knew the moment I saw him, my eyes frozen on him, that his body was lifeless, but we nonetheless went through with the rescue attempt, hoping in vain that we could deny reality. Again, time raced and crawled, but this time, that space was filled with planning our son’s funeral. In the midst of our turmoil and grief, my husband and I conferred — should we tell the truth about Jonathan’s death? Having lived with the pain of isolation for the past five months, we decided to be open about Jonathan’s having taken his own life. This way, our friends could comfort us appropriately, and more important, we would no longer have to bear the burden of living with a lie. It was the right decision for us.

Since then, I have been contacted by people from all over. Either their children are struggling with mental illness, or they are new in their grief for a child who has taken his or her own life. Sometimes they are seeking advice and guidance. More often, they want to share their thoughts with someone who they know can understand. Many had been secretive about the cause of their own loved one’s death. They told only those closest to them, but not others. They related to me that living with the truth hidden away had exacted a terrible toll on them, and they wished that they could turn the clock back. They have since slowly shared the truth with people as time has passed, but regret not having unburdened themselves from the start.

I have also been contacted by parents whose children had taken their own lives - mere hours after the horrible event. I was sought out by complete strangers who had heard of me and gotten my contact information from someone who knew me. They reached out to me because they knew that having “been there,” I might be able to help them navigate their terrifying new reality. While I can’t give advice — we humans are all so different in our coping mechanisms and our needs — I have only ever shared our experience: we were open about our son’s having taken his own life. That openness has helped us to heal and face life more honestly, and as whole people without a corrosive secret. I explain that being open allowed our friends to console us with the knowledge and proper tools to respond, and that we were, as a direct result, spared the ordeal of wearing a mask for the world.

It now occurs to me that there can be another equally vital benefit to sharing the truth about this kind of loss, a development I pray will come to pass. Perhaps this openness after our loved ones have lost their lives would eventually be able to work its way back to the source, to conquer the entire stigma of mental illness in the first place.

My son suffered the equivalent of advanced cancer — just as some cancers are incurable, so too was his illness. My son suffered from a chronic disease that would never leave him, just like diabetes, heart disease, arthritis, or multiple sclerosis. Had he lived, it would have had to be monitored and managed forever. There were no MRIs, CT scans, echocardiograms, X-rays, blood tests, or PET scans to diagnose, to localize the ‘tumor’ or lesion. There were no objective treatment regimens or research protocols to test on him. He fought valiantly and he suffered tremendously. Medicine failed him because mental illness doesn’t get the same respect as other physical illnesses, even as mental illness is just as legitimate a disease. Finally, because his illness was not obvious and kept a secret, our family received no extra kindness — even though we all could have benefited from it.

My husband and I are not unsophisticated people, but at the time when it was critical for us to be our son’s advocates we were shell-shocked and ignorant.  While I try not to play the “should have” game, I think it is instructive to play out the scenario that might have taken place had we been open about Jonathan’s illness and suicide attempt. When friends asked what had happened, we could have said something like: “We were completely unaware, but Jonathan is suffering from a terrible mental illness and he tried to take his own life, and we are unsure of what to do to help him.” I’m sure that this news would have spread. Perhaps a knowledgeable person, someone with experience in this area, would have contacted us to give us advice and guidance. Just maybe, as a result, we would have obtained a more accurate diagnosis or more effective treatment. There is no guarantee that the outcome would have been any different; still, I believe that with additional knowledge the chance for a better outcome increases.

Jonathan may have been upset with this, but he might also have felt unburdened and able to speak openly with his friends about his illness. Perhaps, a peer with a similar illness might have contacted him to let him know that he was not alone in his struggle. This would have helped Jonathan avoid the pain of isolation. He would have felt supported and I am certain that this alone would have helped him.  

It is unfortunate that even now, as I continue to be contacted by parents whose children are struggling with mental illness, they ask me to keep their secret. Of course, I understand their concerns and honor their request. I wish things were different because it is surely time for us all to be open about mental illness, a disease like any other, in the same way we are open about all other illnesses with which we struggle.

Notwithstanding the opportunity to reach for a better outcome, there was no need for Jonathan, or for us, his parents, to live in shame, and certainly no benefit in living with the weight of such a lie. Those months we spent pretending things were fine were exhausting and excruciating because of the huge expenditure of energy required to keep up our façade and the isolation that became our existence. We learned that lesson only after Jonathan died, and that has made an enormous difference in our ability to continue living meaningful lives. It is my hope that by sharing these innermost thoughts about this very painful event in my life I will help others to be open about mental illness. It requires courage, but it is ultimately healing.