China’s 24‑Hour Mental Health Hotlines: A Step Up Amid the COVID‑19 Madness
In the last few weeks, Shenzhen has seen a whirlwind of 24‑hour mental‑health hotlines spring up across China. Everywhere people are catching some phantom anxiety of “what if I get the virus?” while trying to stay safe by hoarding at home. The government rolled out these services as part of a bigger plan to take care of the psyche during public‑health crises, a policy that started back in 2008 after the Sichuan earthquake.
Why Official Voice Matters
While a swarm of volunteers have started their own lines, experts warn that in the absence of proper training, these calls can end up doing more harm than good.
“Sure, there are a ton of hotlines staffed by volunteers, but without real training, they’re ineffective,” says Cui Erjing, who grew up in Guangdong and now volunteers in Seattle.
The reality? If someone reaches out for help and gets a half‑hearted response, it can actually worsen their distress.
What the Numbers Reveal
- Of 18,000 people checked for coronavirus‑related anxiety, 42.6% showed a real reaction.
- Out of 5,000 people tested for PTSD, 21.5% displayed clear symptoms.
Meanwhile, the #howtodealwithfeelingveryanxiousathome hashtag stormed Weibo with over 170 million views as people chased misinformation about the disease and travel bans.
Hotlines Under Pressure
The National Health Commission reports that more than 300 lines are open nationwide, backed by university psychologists, counseling centers, and NGOs. Yet, China only has 2.2 psychiatrists per 100 000 people—one‑fifth the U.S. rate.
Take the Beijing Normal University line. Once it launched in late January, Cheng Qi, a Shanghai psychologist, says it was swamped. Because other lines have now opened, callers’ stories are getting darker. One chronic‑depression patient reported suicidal thoughts each time she hears the barrage of grim news.
“It’s not the virus that triggered it—the virus creates the environment that amplifies it,” Cheng explained.
Meanwhile, Xu Wang at Tsinghua University, coordinating the official Hong Kong hotline, notes a tricky line in the call‑in: determining whether a caller’s symptoms stem from an actual infection or pure anxiety.
“They might say, ‘I can’t eat or sleep well—could this be a virus?’” Xu adds.
Volunteer Groups: A Mild Cure
A volunteer squad of more than 400 therapists—named Yong Xin Kang Yi or “Use Heart to Fight the Virus”—focuses on overworked medical staff in Wuhan. According to Cui, doctors are exhausted, scared, and unsure if they’ll be infected or if their colleagues will.
Learning the Right Way
Researchers at Peking University have published a paper in The Lancet outlining six key stress‑coping strategies, including phone and online counseling for healthcare workers, patients, and the general population.
They say, “By integrating mental health care into the national public‑health emergency system, China—and the world—will be better equipped to fight the 2019‑nCoV crisis.”
How They’re Getting Help
The government has issued guidance: hotlines must be free, confidential, volunteer‑run and supervised by experienced professionals. Yet the enforcement is still shaky.
“Many helplines are launched by individuals. It’s tough to give them solid backing and oversight,” notes Sami Wong, a psychotherapist in Beijing.
Xu reiterates the difficulty: volunteers can’t gain the necessary face‑to‑face experience with people’s mental-health challenges. A simple “I can understand how you feel” can unintentionally shut someone down, according to Wong. Proper PTSD training isn’t something you acquire in a night’s sleep.
While these lines are a welcome addition, the journey to a smooth, safe, and effective system—especially with limited resources—is ongoing. For now, the hotlines continue to hum, connecting anxious ears with listening hearts.
