{"id":33,"date":"2026-04-07T16:49:09","date_gmt":"2026-04-07T16:49:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/2026\/04\/07\/the-dark-side-of-music-as-therapy\/"},"modified":"2026-04-07T16:49:09","modified_gmt":"2026-04-07T16:49:09","slug":"the-dark-side-of-music-as-therapy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/2026\/04\/07\/the-dark-side-of-music-as-therapy\/","title":{"rendered":"The dark side of music as \u2018therapy\u2019"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/span> Simon Kadula\/ Shutterstock<\/a><\/span><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

A violinist plays in a cancer ward. A playlist loops in the waiting room. A surgeon hums along to the radio mid-operation. We assume, almost without thinking, that music helps. But what if it doesn\u2019t \u2013 or worse, what if it harms?<\/p>\n

Music<\/a> has been used since the beginning of time, in every culture, as a positive part of social and ceremonial events, including eating, hunting, courtship, weddings, funerals, coronations, sports and social celebrations. But music has also been used as a weapon of war, to torture, humiliate and disorientate people.<\/p>\n

Music was used as a form of torture<\/a> in Guantanamo Bay after 9\/11 and by the Nazis, who forced musical prisoners to entertain<\/a> their captors while they starved and awaited death. It\u2019s a jarring thought that the same force that moves us to tears at a concert can be weaponised to break people.<\/p>\n

Similarly, in hospitals and clinics, music<\/a> is generally seen as a low-risk and harmless way to reduce anxiety in waiting rooms, as background support for staff in the operating theatre and as a stimulation to exercise in rehabilitation. It is rare to recognise music as a double-edged sword<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Music therapists are healthcare professionals, trained to use music as a clinical tool<\/a> rather than simply a pleasant distraction. They work across a wide range of settings \u2013 in hospitals, hospices, mental health units, care homes, specialist schools and community clinics \u2013 and their work is grounded in evidence, not instinct. They are experts in using music to improve health and wellbeing, attuned to whether music might cause harm or support wellbeing, yet the research in this field rarely focuses on whether music might sometimes do more harm than good.<\/p>\n

In practice, music therapists do remarkable work. They help people with dementia to communicate and connect when words have failed them. They support children with brain injuries to develop speech. They help stroke survivors regain physical movement. Music is also used to help people work through complex trauma<\/a>. These are serious, skilled interventions \u2013 not background noise.<\/p>\n

\n \"Protestors
\n Music was used as a form of torture in Guantanamo.<\/span>
\n Phil Pasquini\/Shutterstock.com<\/a><\/span>
\n <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The wrong note<\/h2>\n

But music can cause real harm too, and we don\u2019t talk about this nearly enough.<\/p>\n

Think about what happens when music is imposed on people who haven\u2019t asked for it. Premature babies and patients with disorders of consciousness are particularly sensitive to sensory overload. Blasting music at them isn\u2019t soothing, it\u2019s stressful. <\/p>\n

Residents in care homes are routinely subjected to music they didn\u2019t choose, played at times that suit the staff rather than the people living there. Well-meaning volunteers turn up to hospital wards with guitars and ukuleles, and nobody asks whether the patients actually want a performance. Good intentions don\u2019t cancel out a bad outcome.<\/p>\n

Doctors and managers in hospitals and care homes are reaching for music as an easy, feel-good intervention without asking hard questions about whether it\u2019s appropriate. Music can connect people and bring joy, but it can also exclude, irritate, distress and disorient. The same qualities that make it powerful make it problematic when used carelessly.<\/p>\n

The principle should be simple: music should always be chosen by the person listening to it, never imposed on them. It should be thoughtfully selected and of decent quality. A study found<\/a> that more than half of patients on an older people\u2019s ward had no say over what was on the radio or television. That\u2019s not music as therapy \u2013 it\u2019s just noise.<\/p>\n

This doesn\u2019t mean music shouldn\u2019t be used in hospitals and care homes. Used well, it can reduce pain, lift mood, aid recovery and help people feel less alone. \u201cUsed well\u201d means assessing whether a patient actually wants music. It means choosing the right music for the right person at the right moment. It means training staff to understand when music helps and when it doesn\u2019t. And it means being honest that a cheerful playlist isn\u2019t a neutral act, it\u2019s an intervention. And like any intervention, it can go wrong. It\u2019s about qualified music therapists working with music to improve patient wellbeing.<\/p>\n

Family visitors can create meaningful playlists to leave with the patient, and listening to music together is possible when other shared activities are difficult. But always ask first, and remember that silence can be just as valuable as any playlist. As the American entertainer Will Rogers said: \u201cNever miss a good chance to shut up.\u201d<\/a><\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

Hilary Moss does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Simon Kadula\/ Shutterstock A violinist plays in a cancer ward. A playlist loops in the waiting room. A surgeon hums along to the radio mid-operation. We assume, almost without thinking, that music helps. But what if it doesn\u2019t \u2013 or worse, what if it harms? Music has been used since the beginning of time, in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-33","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=33"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=33"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=33"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/redzine.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=33"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}