The National Institute of Mental Health estimates that about 6% of American adults have a serious mental illness. That amounts to more than 15.4 million people and includes such afflictions as mood disorders, anxiety orders such as posttraumatic stress and impulse control. If anything, experts suspect that’s an underestimate — individuals with no fixed address, for example, aren’t usually covered by government behavioral health surveys. But it’s safe to say the numbers are substantial and cover the gamut from men and women, white and minorities, young and old. And it’s not uncommon for co-occurring afflictions such as alcoholism or addiction to be part of the equation.

And so when such individuals are hospitalized for treatment where do they go for transition care? Where can they help pull their lives into some semblance of order? And how do we help those who have no family or friends or wealth to help them find their place in the world?

That’s at the heart of an unfortunate conflict that has developed in Carroll County where a local nonprofit, Access Carroll Integrated Healthcare of Westminster, is looking to open a short-term 18-bed care facility for homeless individuals with mental health and substance abuse issues. The reaction from many local officials hasn’t exactly been welcoming: It’s opposed by the county’s top law enforcement and elected officials as well as Mayor Mona Becker. They see only danger in allowing patients initially treated at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore to receive further care in Westminster.

“Our concern is that participants in this Sinai facility pilot program who potentially have underlying addiction and mental health issues will have the ability and propensity to leave the facility which would cause an additional strain on downtown businesses and a drain on City of Westminster public safety resources,” the mayor wrote.

The problem with that logic, of course, is that if all communities followed suit, there’d simply be no place to treat such individuals and all would suffer as a result — the afflicted and the communities where they ended up, perhaps wandering the streets instead of getting help. It’s no surprise that Baltimore, which represents the state’s largest medical center, is seen as exporting its mentally ill or homeless when, in fact, many of the patients in a Westminster facility are likely to be from — Westminster. Just apply the 6% NIMH estimate and Carroll County with its population of more than 176,000 people (77.8% of whom are over 18 years old) likely has at least 8,000 individuals with a serious mental illness. Suddenly, those 18 beds don’t seem so life-changing; they seem inadequate.

Can advocates guarantee that someone receiving help in a local care facility in Westminster won’t end up living on the streets of that town? There are some precautions already (including a security guard) but, ultimately, there are no guarantees when it comes to medical treatment. Patients have rights, too. They’re people like you and I, with families and loved ones who care about them but who may not have the resources to provide them with the care that they need. (But let us also observe that we can’t guarantee the state’s attorney or sheriff might not one day have a family member in dire need of such care. We would not wish such circumstances on anyone. But none of it is within human control. At least not in the year 2025.)

This much we know for certain: Maryland has too many barriers to mental health care. A recent study found Maryland has a severe shortage of behavioral health care workers — about 18,222 fewer than what is needed to provide adequate care. By the year 2028, that number is expected to rise above 30,000. And we are quibbling where to locate a tiny 18-bed facility in a county that surely needs more access to mental health care at every level? Where are Westminster’s priorities? Is there not an ounce of compassion there?

Alas, these are not good times for empathy in this country. In Washington, D.C., we have a new administration that seems laser-focused on nursing grudges and resentments, particularly against the less fortunate. Granted, when Edward C. Rothstein, a Carroll County commissioner and a Republican, speaks in favor of the proposed respite facility (as he did just last week), one can still hold hope that those in medical need will not be regarded as pariah. But then there is the letter from Carroll County State’s Attorney Haven Shoemaker Jr. and Sheriff James T. DeWees complaining of “dangerous” individuals and “dumping them into our community” and it’s easy to despair.