Every day, roughly 17 veterans take their own lives. For two decades, that number hasn’t budged.
VA Secretary Doug Collins said that despite spending billions of dollars, we’re losing the same number of veterans every year. For veterans under the age of 45, a recent report shows suicide is the second-leading cause of death. They’re not faceless statistics, but fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters who couldn’t survive the wait for help.
What makes this unbearable is that while those veterans were in crisis, veterans wait an average of 17 days to see a mental health professional for the first time. Sen. Richard Blumenthal (D-Conn.), ranking member of the Veterans’ Affairs Committee, wrote that these delays ‘pose serious risks to the health and safety of those who served.’
The problem isn’t money. In November, President Trump signed a $133 billion VA funding bill that includes $698 million for suicide prevention outreach. And the problem isn’t resourcing, as more than 9 million scheduled visits go unutilized each year due to missed appointments. The problem is that the infrastructure can’t keep up.
The VA operates on electronic record systems that don’t communicate across facilities, community providers, or state lines, the very kind of coordination that’s standard in private health systems.
Consider the veteran who needs help for mental health or PTSD treatment. There might be an appointment at their local VA, an available telehealth appointment, or a nearby walk-in clinic. But the scheduling infrastructure can’t surface those pathways together. Staff can’t schedule across the network, even though there’s availability to address a veteran’s needs that day. The veteran can’t book online, and they’re told to wait, call back, or try another number.
The inefficiencies are well documented. The VA’s own Access to Care website shows it: mental health, primary care, specialty services, all backed up. At the West Los Angeles VA, new patients wait 69 days for mental health, 49 days for pain medicine, and 100 days for substance use treatment. VA clinicians are mission-driven and understand the wounds of war, but they’re working with systems that can’t deliver at the speed healthcare demands.
The largest health systems in America manage their networks in real time. Open appointments, provider resourcing, and patient needs are all visible in a single ‘pane of glass’ that call center staff can reference to route patients. For decades, VA has struggled to do the same. For a fraction of what VA spends, that same capability can be deployed systemwide. Not to add bureaucracy but linking the network so it operates as one.
Veteran suicide is complex. Stigma keeps many from seeking help, and nearly 33,000 veterans are homeless each night, many struggling with mental illness and disconnected from care. That makes it even more critical that when a veteran reaches out—after overcoming enormous barriers—the system responds immediately. We can’t afford to lose them to wait times and scheduling friction after they’ve found the courage to ask for help.
Of course, technology alone won’t solve this. Some argue that expanding community care—a program that lets eligible veterans see local private providers—is the solution. It’s part of the answer. But more choice doesn’t help if veterans and schedulers can’t see what’s available, most convenient, or the soonest.
Hellbound and Down 