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Why Mandating Mental Health Screening Is NOT the Answer in Aesthetics

Since July 2023, Australia has introduced some of the strictest rules in the world around psychological screening in aesthetics. The goal is well-intentioned: to safeguard patients, especially those vulnerable to mental health challenges like Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD). But while the policy sounds protective on paper, the reality is much more complex.



Mental health in aesthetics should not be reduced to a form. Real care means looking beyond checkboxes — creating space for honest conversations and meaningful support. Rather than to assessing patients, the focus should be on empowering them with all the information they need to make confident, informed decisions about their own care.
Mental health in aesthetics should not be reduced to a form. Real care means looking beyond checkboxes — creating space for honest conversations and meaningful support. Rather than to assessing patients, the focus should be on empowering them with all the information they need to make confident, informed decisions about their own care.

What’s Happening in Australia?

In Australia, all patients—whether they’re seeking surgery or just injectables— must navigate a GP referral, two consultation slots, a cooling-off period, and a psychological assessment using a validated tool designed for clinical diagnoses.  If the screening raises any concerns, the patient must be referred to a GP, psychologist, or psychiatrist for further evaluation.


Note that these psychological screening tools were never meant for cosmetic clinics. They were crafted for mental health professionals—psychiatrists and psychologists trained over years to interpret intricate emotional landscapes. In an aesthetics setting, they’re reduced to checkboxes or one-size-fits-all forms. Patients breeze through them, knowing what answers "pass." Clinics file them away, then move on to the next client. The system encourages compliance, not care.


The Dangerous Illusion of Safety

These forms give a false sense of security. Industry insiders murmur about clinics treating screening like "just a hurdle to clear." Or, as the Australian Psychological Society warned, many practitioners simply don’t follow through—even with new guidelines in place. The process becomes symbolic, not substantive.


Worse still, when a patient is flagged, the most common response isn’t referral—it’s rejection. Practitioners, unsure what else to do, simply say no and send them away. But turning someone down without offering support isn’t safeguarding; it’s avoidance. If a patient is told to “go see your GP,” it only shifts the burden to an already overstretched NHS, where mental health referrals can take months—if they happen at all. The NHS is an already overstretched service that was never built to handle the fallout of private aesthetic care. GPs are under immense pressure, and when faced with a patient asking about cosmetic procedures, they’re unlikely to offer specialist support. More often than not, they’ll point to helplines, charities, or suggest seeking private therapy—all of which could have been shared by the practitioner in the first place.


The NHS is an already overstretched service that was never built to handle the fallout of private aesthetic care.

If we’re serious about protecting patients, practitioners need the right tools within the clinic—resources that don’t just pass the problem along but offer real, compassionate guidance at the point of care. That’s why the PREPÆRE™ Patient Hub exists—so every practitioner has a clear, responsible next step when a patient isn’t ready.



Screening Isn’t Substitution for Safeguarding in Aesthetics

You might see it differently, but here’s what we’ve learned: mandating screening often misses the point. It can feel like progress—putting a system in place, ticking the mental health box—but too often, it becomes a shortcut. Clinics meet the requirement on paper, while patients are left wondering what’s wrong with them, or worse, quietly struggling without real support.

Instead of encouraging care that’s thoughtful and continuous, these systems can replace genuine dialogue and reflection with red tape and referrals. The result? Less connection, more confusion—and patients who needed to be heard feeling even more isolated.


A single training session or a borrowed clinical tool doesn’t equip [aesthetic practitioners] to navigate the emotional complexity behind cosmetic decisions.


A Better Way Forward

Instead of mandating ineffective forms, we need to transform how we think about mental health in aesthetics. The solution isn’t forcing aesthetic practitioners to become mental health professionals. That’s not fair, not realistic—and it’s not what patients need. A single training session or a borrowed clinical tool doesn’t equip someone to navigate the emotional complexity behind cosmetic decisions. Expecting practitioners to diagnose or assess mental health concerns pushes them far beyond their scope, adding pressure without providing real clarity.


Instead, we need to rethink how mental health fits into the aesthetics journey—without turning consultations into psychiatric evaluations:


  • Make space for reflection. Patients deserve a private, non-judgmental space to reflect on their motivations, emotional readiness, and expectations—before a practitioner even picks up a needle.

  • Educate practitioners. Not to turn them into therapists, but to give them the language, confidence, and awareness to spot red flags and hold emotionally safe, respectful conversations.

  • Open real pathways. If concerns arise, patients shouldn’t be bounced between referrals or left waiting for a GP appointment that may never come. They should have access to clear, trustworthy information and mental health resources—without the friction.


That’s what PREPÆRE™ was built for. Not more assessments and gatekeeping, but better, effective care.



Don’t Be Satisfied with Paper Safety

The real danger isn’t missing a checkbox—it’s performing procedures on people who aren’t emotionally ready, who may spiral into regret, complaints, or worse. Mandated screening offers the illusion of protection, but without meaningful engagement, it becomes just another layer of paperwork—tick-boxes that soothe liability but fail to safeguard real lives.


Australia tried to legislate its way to safety. What it created instead was a system that performs concern without actually delivering care. We don’t have to follow that path. We can do better—by designing tools and processes that centre emotional readiness, patient reflection, and genuine support. Not red tape. Not optics. Just better care.







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