Sometimes the Barrier Isn’t Motivation

This is #IncreaseDiversity, a newsletter series + Increase Diversity Academy sharing best practices for employers who want to learn how to… well, increase diversity. To see previous editions, visit JenniferTardy.com. | IG: @IncreaseDiversity | Increase Diversity - YouTube

We have a tendency to explain people's outcomes by looking at their behavior.

They didn't follow through.

They didn't show up.

They didn't ask for help.

They didn't stick with treatment.

They didn't do what they needed to do.

And sometimes, that's true.

But after years of talking about barriers in the workplace—and now as an owner of a behavioral healthcare company—I've learned to ask a different question first:

What did this person have to overcome just to participate?

Because sometimes what looks like a motivation problem is actually an access problem.

We do this in the workplace all the time.

Years ago, this became one of the most important shifts in how I thought about diversity and hiring.

If certain candidates weren't making it through a hiring process, the easiest explanation was often about the candidates.

Maybe they weren't qualified enough.
Maybe they weren't applying.

Maybe they didn't interview well.

But when you examine the process more closely, you might discover something else.

A sourcing strategy that repeatedly reaches the same networks.

A requirement that isn't actually necessary for the job.

An interview process that rewards familiarity.

A referral system that reproduces the existing workforce.

The outcome may look like a people problem.

But the barrier is sitting inside the system.

I've started seeing the same thing in healthcare.

Imagine knowing you need help—and then trying to get it.

First, you have to recognize that something isn't right.

Then you have to decide you're willing to seek help.

Then you have to figure out where to go.

Then you need to find someone accepting new patients.

Then determine whether they accept your insurance.

Then find an appointment you can actually attend.

Then potentially arrange transportation, childcare or time away from work.

And after all of that, you still need to walk through the door and tell a stranger what's happening in your life.

That's a lot of friction between:

"I need help."

and

"I'm receiving help."

And as we recognize World Mental Health Day this month, I keep thinking about that distance.

We talk a lot about the importance of mental health and encouraging people to seek help.

But seeking help is only one part of the equation.

What happens after someone decides they need it?

Can they actually find care?

Can they access it?

Can they afford it?

Can they get there?
Can they find a provider they trust?

Because recognizing the need for support doesn't automatically create access to it.

Yet when someone doesn't make it to the other side, we're often quick to focus on the individual.

That's why access matters so much.

Access isn't simply making something available.

This distinction has become increasingly important to me.

Something can technically exist and still be functionally inaccessible.

A provider exists.

An appointment exists.

A program exists.

A job exists.

A benefit exists.
A resource exists.

But availability and accessibility are not the same thing.

Real access asks:

Can the person find it?

Can they afford it?

Can they understand how to navigate it?

Can they physically get to it?

Can they use it within the realities of their life?

Do they trust the institution providing it?

And perhaps most importantly:

Was the system designed with someone like them in mind?

This is bigger than healthcare.

It's one of the reasons I'm expanding the conversations we have here in Increase Diversity.

The industries may change, but I keep encountering the same question.

At Jennifer Tardy Consulting, I've spent years thinking about access to opportunity.

At PWP Health, I'm thinking about access to behavioral healthcare.

And increasingly, I'm interested in what happens when we stop asking:

"Why didn't this person do what they were supposed to do?"

and start asking:

"What stood between this person and the outcome we're asking them to achieve?"

That question doesn't eliminate personal responsibility.

It simply forces us to examine whether we're asking people to climb unnecessary walls before they can even begin.

And sometimes, removing one of those walls changes everything.

So the next time someone's behavior looks like a lack of motivation, consider asking one more question before deciding what you're seeing:

Is this really a motivation problem—or is there an access problem hiding underneath it?

– – –

If you or someone you serve is trying to access behavioral healthcare, this is the barrier we're working to reduce at PWP Health.

We provide behavioral health services designed to help people connect to meaningful care, not simply hear that help exists.

See who PWP Health serves and how to get connected → PWP Health