The Door

I sometimes look around me and think of things that we take for granted and how significant they are for how we live. The clock for example has fashioned the daily rhythms, functions and processes of billions of people around the planet. Within capitalism it has been used to measure time we spend at the service of (usually) someone else. It generally instils a reflex around behaviours including when we go to sleep, wake-up, eat, work, learn, socialise etc.

The invention and development of the door is something else that is also truly fascinating and significant for us. Yes, that’s right, the door. But especially the development of the lock on a door.

The invention of the door dates back to ancient civilisations. Initially, rudimentary barriers made from materials like wood, stone, or animal hides were used at the entrances of homes and communal buildings. The earliest known doors would most likely have been designed, and used primarily, to shelter people from the elements.

As we emerged from being hunter-gatherers, there must have been a point were more developed forms of food-growing and preserving tipped us into the emergence of the reality of a food surplus.  At that point, the doors had to go beyond mere shelter; they had to provide security for the surplus, from hungry others. Standard door locking mechanisms would no doubt have grown in demand from that point – to keep people out.

Locking people behind doors, to keep them in as an act of punishment, was no doubt also propelled as a result of this development.

The click

Today, the treatment of people with learning disabilities and autism in services in the UK appears to be significantly blighted by pre-medieval practices through the use of (and over-reliance on) the locked door, or seclusion, as it’s commonly referred to.

Seclusion, or the act of isolating an individual from others, has long been employed as a method of punishment in various societal institutions. Whether used in schools, prisons, or psychiatric facilities, seclusion is usually justified as an intention to correct behaviour, maintain order, or protect others from potential harm. Whatever the justification, the practice of seclusion raises significant questions around ethics and the potential psychological impact, notwithstanding questions around its efficacy and its consequences or human impact. Does it truly rehabilitate, merely maintain a peaceful order, or does it inflict lasting harm and trauma?

Developments in how services have come to support a great many vulnerable people, not guilty of any crime, has witnessed a resort to the locked door. A recent report on the BBC’s File on 4 highlighted the story of an autistic woman who had been in seclusion for a staggering 45 years. When I tell this to some of my teaching groups, they are disbelieving and can’t fathom what might justify such cruel treatment in a so-called health care system.

As if that’s not enough, sometimes even more heavy-handed restrictions are being used within these seclusion spaces. https://www.challengingbehaviour.org.uk/news/bbc-news-at-ten-broadcast-on-seclusion/ 

Locked-in Therapy

In schools and mental health institutions, seclusion rooms are sometimes used to manage individuals in a state of, what is usually described as, ‘crisis’. These spaces may be given other, more palatable terms such as ‘calming’ or ‘de-escalation’ rooms. While the contexts differ, the underlying principle remains the same: isolating the individual is perceived as a way to prevent further disruption, encourage cognitive and physical regulation, and behavioural reflection.

However, numerous psychological studies have shown that extended isolation can have detrimental effects on mental health. Humans are inherently social creatures and unexpected, repeated, and especially prolonged, deprivation of social interaction can lead to anxiety, depression, hallucinations, and cognitive decline. In prison settings, inmates subjected to solitary confinement often experience a breakdown in their sense of time and identity. In children, especially those with special needs, forced seclusion can trigger trauma and hinder emotional development.

The psychological toll of seclusion calls into question its efficacy as a rehabilitative tool. Rather than fostering reflection or remorse, it can exacerbate feelings of anger, fear, or helplessness. In extreme cases, seclusion may lead to self-harm or even suicide. These outcomes suggest that rather than correcting behaviour, seclusion often compounds existing psychological issues. The ‘medicine’ is a bigger problem than the condition.

Ethical Concerns and Human Rights

Seclusion also presents a host of ethical dilemmas. Critics argue that it violates basic human rights, particularly the right to humane treatment (HRA Article 3). The United Nations has condemned the prolonged use of solitary confinement, especially when used on juveniles or individuals with mental illness. From a moral standpoint, even advocates of punishment as a method would surely agree that any restrictive response to behaviour that challenges should be proportional, fair, and aimed at rehabilitation -not degradation or causing long-term harm.

Furthermore, the application of seclusion is often arbitrary and disproportionately affects marginalised groups, this not only includes individuals with learning disabilities, but also people from BME backgrounds and those with mental health issues. This disparity underscores systemic issues in how discipline, power and control are exercised within institutions designed to ‘manage’ behaviour.

Alternatives and the Path Forward

Given the harmful effects and ethical issues surrounding seclusion, many experts advocate for alternative disciplinary approaches. In schools, restorative justice practices have shown promise in addressing behavioural challenges through dialogue and community-building rather than isolation. In the criminal justice system, rehabilitative models that focus on mental health support, education, and reintegration are increasingly viewed as more effective and humane alternatives to solitary confinement or seclusion.

In psychiatric care, trauma-informed approaches prioritise safety, empathy, and patient autonomy. These alternatives recognise that individuals in crisis often need connection, not isolation, to begin the healing process.

Conclusion

Seclusion as a punishment is a practice fraught with psychological harm and ethical controversy. While it may offer short-term control, its long-term consequences are often counterproductive, undermining the very goals of rehabilitation and justice. Moving forward, institutions must reconsider the role of seclusion and invest in more compassionate, evidence-based strategies that uphold human dignity and promote genuine behavioural change. I believe that the incorporation of Positive Behaviour Support as a model for person-centred, evidence-based support, which increases a person’s all-round contentment and happiness, is the best approach to reducing reliance on seclusion. It will also reduce reliance on keeping people out, and therefore facilitates inclusion simultaneously.

Fewer locked doors could be good for all of us. Knowledge is the key that unlocks all the doors.