Abstract
The Brazilian Health Reform Movement succeeded in enshrining health as a constitutional social right, resulting in the creation of the Unified Health System (Sistema Único de Saúde, or SUS), based on the principles of universality, comprehensive care, equity, and democratized participation of users and workers in system management. However, the SUS faces a process of privatization by private Social Health Organizations (Organizações Sociais de Saúde, or OSS). This article reports part of a study involving researchers, including public mental health service workers. The methodological strategy explored narratives related to episodes of care in workplaces. The results revealed what we termed the ‘enterprise-mode,’ impacting both workers and the care provided in services managed by OSS. SUS health care workers on the shop floor face the challenge of commercial privatizing forces acting against the foundational principles of democratic management inscribed in the Brazilian Psychiatric Reform law enacted in 2001. A relationship is imposed that corrodes interactions within the team and between the team and service users, attempting to silence those who defend the SUS. However, the narratives also reveal sparks of resistance and insubordination emerging in the daily lives of SUS shop floor workers that can strengthen resistance movements for social health rights.
Beginning in the 1980s, as a response to the capitalist crisis that had deepened in the previous decade, many countries successively adopted budgetary measures known as austerity. These policies centered on reducing public spending, retracting social programs, and shifting the costs of the crisis onto the most vulnerable sectors. 1 Hard-won social rights were curtailed even as private companies increasingly competed for public funds. The state was expected to be minimal in social policies, while continuing to subsidize private enterprises. Neoliberal discourse discredited public administration while extolling private initiative.
This article examines one dimension of that strategy, drawing from original research that reveals how private logic came to occupy public space. It does so through testimonies and narratives of lived experiences from the researchers themselves in their workplaces: public mental health services located in Brazil's largest municipality.
By briefly contextualizing the Brazilian health reform movement and the creation of the Unified Health System (Sistema Único de Saúde [SUS]), alongside the trajectory of the Brazilian psychiatric reform, this study highlights the mobilization of privatizing social forces advocating a neoliberal counterreform. This is followed by narratives from workers/researchers on their daily labor and the impacts of the privatization of service management by organizations known as Social Health Organizations (Organização Social de Saúde [OSS]), which have resulted in precarious employment, workplace tension, and distress among workers.
The Brazilian Health Reform: in Dispute with Neoliberalism
In the historical context of Brazil's re-democratization after 21 years of military dictatorship (1964-1985), the Brazilian health reform movement (Movimento da Reforma Sanitária Brasileira [MRSB]) advanced a critical vision of health as a social right enshrined in the constitution. Its central proposal was the creation of a national public health system—the SUS—founded on universality, comprehensiveness, and equity in access to health care. The movement was composed of social segments that included community leaders mobilized for better living conditions and against the rising cost of living in the outskirts of major cities, as well as union leaders, political representatives, student movements, and university intellectuals. Despite strong resistance in the 1987 Constituent Assembly, particularly from lobbying groups representing private health care interests, the 1988 constitution incorporated contradictory provisions: health was defined as a right of all and a duty of the state, yet simultaneously opened to private enterprises. 2 The law allowed private companies, whether or not qualified as philanthropic, 3 to participate in the SUS in a complementary capacity. As a result, the SUS inherited the strong presence of private initiative in health care service delivery from the pre-constitutional period. 4
Faced with the new constitutional recognition of social rights, unprecedented in Brazil's history, private interests reacted swiftly. Among the measures that undermined the full realization of SUS principles were chronic underfunding and the weakening of public management.
One of SUS's key guidelines is community participation in service management. 2 However, this democratic principle has been repeatedly disregarded by successive governments. Although Brazil briefly resisted the neoliberal wave that swept through many countries 4 in the late twentieth century, due to the strength of the re-democratization movement various forms of privatization gradually gained ground, much as occurred with the United Kingdom's National Health Service.5–7 A state reform consistent with neoliberal policies, approved in 1995 under President Fernando Henrique Cardoso, amended the constitution and was followed by a series of laws that introduced private management into the SUS through so-called Social Health Organizations (OSS), private organizations that are only formally non-profit, guided by managerialism8,9: ‘In response to the exhaustion of a state of bureaucratic crisis, ultimately manifesting in inefficiency, [the reform] brings forward the concept of managerial public administration [managerialism], based on efficiency and quality, decentralized actions focused on the citizen.’ 8 (p94)
These OSS receive public funds yet operate under market conditions; they employ a workforce with high turnover, refer to employees as ‘collaborators,’ and frequently engage in ‘fourth party outsourcing,’ subcontracting other companies for secondary activities.10,11 Moreover, behind some OSS are major private health care corporations, including Brazil's largest private health company. 12
Aligned with this state reform, the 2000 Fiscal Responsibility Law, whose major aim was to control public spending by reducing expenditures on public personnel, discouraged civil service exams and encouraged outsourcing. Expenditures on personnel outsourcing are excluded from personnel cost calculations. 13
Outsourcing expanded in the public sector beyond OSS to include concessions, permits, partnerships, cooperatives, nongovernmental organizations, and public-interest civil society organizations (Oscips). Increasingly, public services came to be ‘delivered not by tenured civil servants, but by a wide range of precariously employed workers hired under short-term or project-based contracts without the same labor rights of a civil servant.’ 14 (p19)
Currently, about 85% of SUS-provided services are delivered by private organizations, that is, organizations not directly managed by public authorities. This represents a reversal of the constitutional principle that private participation should occur only when public services are insufficient. Partnership with the private sector is therefore no longer the exception but the rule. 15 According to several scholars, the various forms of labor precarity observed in this process reflect policies in which the state itself acts as a promoter of precarious employment.16–19
The current federal administration, led by a broad coalition government headed by the Workers’ Party (Partido dos Trabalhadores), lacks a congressional majority and has not, to date, reversed this model of management.
In the same wave of privatization, in the country's largest showcase of the SUS, São Paulo, a Brazilian municipality with 11.5 million inhabitants and capital of the state of the same name, has transferred most of the health care network, including mental health services, to private management by several OSS, fragmenting the system and undermining the democratization of management. 19
The Brazilian Psychiatric Reform
The mental health workers’ movement (Movimento dos Trabalhadores em Saúde Mental) was founded in 1979, and by 1987 the anti-asylum movement had been formally organized. The Brazilian psychiatric reform was approved by the Brazilian parliament as federal law 10.216 in 2001, 20 after 12 years of proceedings. The psychiatric reform ‘represented a remarkable social achievement and a civilizational advancement.’ 21 (p4490) Over three decades, the anti-asylum movements succeeded in ‘building a counter-hegemonic proposal for the National Mental Health Policy, previously centered on hospital-based care’. 21 (p4490)
In 2025, the psychiatric reform celebrated 36 years of legal enforcement, having established a nationwide, albeit heterogeneous, network of community-based services to replace psychiatric hospitals. This includes psychosocial care centers (Centros de Atenção Psicossocial [CAPS]), therapeutic residential services (Serviços Residenciais Terapêuticos [SRT]), community centers, income-generation centers, and other initiatives. Psychiatric beds have also been incorporated into general hospitals while psychiatric beds in specialty hospitals have been progressively reduced.
From the perspective of the psychiatric reform, care involves the most active possible participation of mental health service users in their pursuit of better living conditions and improved care provision. It is important to highlight that ‘In Psychosocial Care, those who seek mental care, commonly referred to as ‘users,’ are seen as an integral part of a network of relationships, making them social players rather than carriers of signs and symptoms. 22 (p401)
By confronting the asylum-based model, federal law 10.216/2001 redirected the structure of mental health care, ensuring as fundamental rights of individuals with mental disorders: access to the best possible treatment with humane approach and respect aiming at recovery through social reintegration in family, work, and community life; protection against abuse and exploitation; confidentiality of personal information; the right to physician presence to clarify the need or otherwise for involuntary hospitalization; free access to available means of communication; and the right to comprehensive information about the treatment. Preferably, treatment should occur in community mental health services, in therapeutic environments, and through the least invasive means possible. 20
Defenders of the psychiatric reform argue that the asylum logic extends beyond the control of those labeled ‘insane.’ It encompasses ‘homosexual and transgender individuals, homeless people, drug addicts that inhabit the streets of cities and many other actors who, in each area and territory, cross over the boundaries of good conduct’. 22 (p404)
Particularly since 2011, 21 there has been a redirection of mental health policies in Brazil, reflecting yet another mode of capital accumulation. Despite the legal advances achieved in mental health, the field has faced the same destabilization affecting the SUS: precariousness induced by neoliberal policies, especially through underfunding and the privatization of management. These processes have undermined the community-based network of mental health services, whose expansion has stagnated and now faces a serious financing crisis. 22
During the neoliberal governments of Michel Temer and Jair Bolsonaro, from 2016 to 2022, marked by attempts to dismantle the SUS and by the counterreform of mental health policy, there was a resurgence of disputes led by business groups, disregard for decisions issued by democratization and social participation forums such as the Mental Health Conferences, the reemergence of a hospital-centered and psychiatry-focused model, and the funding by the Ministries of Justice and Social Development for private services, the so-called ‘therapeutic communities’ aimed at drug users, in which forced abstinence is one of the main measures imposed. 22
In light of the above, this study aims to contribute to strengthening the struggle of those who defend the advances of the Brazilian psychiatric reform and the SUS.
Methods
The material presented here is part of the research project ‘Common Episodes of Uncertain Care,’ carried out by the Laboratory for Studies and Research on Health Training and Work (Laboratório de Estudos e Pesquisas de Formação e Trabalho em Saúde - LEPETS) of the Federal University of São Paulo (Universidade Federal de São Paulo UNIFESP), Baixada Santista Campus, between 2020 and 2023. Approved by the UNIFESP Research Ethics Committee under protocol no. 0398/2022, the study involved 30 researchers, public health care workers, graduate students, and faculty members.
The study explored narratives of experiences lived by the researchers themselves in their workplaces, focusing on episodes of care.23,24 In biweekly meetings, one participant presented a written narrative, followed by reflections, commentaries, experience-sharing, and questions. The recorded discussions were read in the subsequent session, initiating a new round of analysis aimed at identifying the multiple policies, concepts, and operational modes underlying the narrated situations.
At the conclusion of the process, the complete set of materials (narratives and meeting records) was analyzed to identify major thematic fields, among them the private dimension that permeates work processes, particularly in public mental health services managed by OSS. These analyses revealed various effects on workers and on the modes of health care provision.
In a second phase of analysis, worker-researchers employed in mental health services in the municipality of São Paulo, under OSS management, examined collective dimensions within the ‘shop floor’ of public services that shaped and traversed their work processes.
Narratives: The Enterprise-Mode and Its Effects on the SUS ‘Shop Floor Workers’
The investigation revealed how deeply workers were entangled in the enterprise-mode of functioning, not only in their work routines but also in their relationships, emotions, and in their ways of seeing, being, and thinking about the world. As López-Ruiz 25 explains, the enterprise-mode is linked to the new forms adopted by neoliberalism, which establishes a norm that guides ways of living, thinking, and feeling. It is a model adapted not only to economic activities, but one that permeates all types of activity and behavior. In this configuration, social relations become organized according to a market logic, and individuals begin to conceive of their actions and of themselves as enterprises.
When discussing personal enterprise as an ethos of self-valorization and the emergence of a corporate culture and new subjectivity, Dardot e Laval 26 state that enterprise ‘is thus the name to be given to self-government in the neoliberal age. 26 (p290) They argue that ‘the personal enterprise is a ‘psychological and social, even spiritual entity,’ active in all areas and present in all relations. 26 (p295) In analyzing the impact of this rationality on labor and employment, they contend that neoliberal rationality produces a subject who behaves as an entity in competition.
For this article, we selected from the broader set of narratives those that allowed us to explore aspects related to the effects of this enterprise-mode on workers, particularly those who occupy managerial roles in health services, and on health care within this enterprise-oriented logic. Colloquial language was preserved in the dialogues presented in the narratives. Exhausting Workdays
Maria wakes up to the sound of the alarm clock. She glances at her work messages on WhatsApp and sighs deeply, feeling as if she hadn't really rested, as she’d spent the whole night dreaming about work. The messages were the usual ones: notices of delays, requests for transportation for medical exams, professionals scheduling meetings, supervisors demanding responses, building maintenance issues, and the legal department asking for updates.
Maria feels as if she isn't really living, just enduring. Since taking on the position of manager from CAPS and signing the company's agreement that waived the need to clock in and out, she feels as though her life revolves entirely around work, twenty-four hours a day.
Her phone never stops buzzing, demanding constant readiness. Immediacy. Endless urgency. She arrives at work already exhausted, greeted by a line of people who need her attention. Everything seems like an exception that must be accommodated.
She realizes that the concerns of the workers and the care of users have become secondary to bureaucratic and administrative demands.
She connects her phone to join an online meeting while simultaneously checking her email inbox. After all, they told her that's what she was paid to do.
Maria swings between feelings of being a superhero and the conviction that the problem is herself, that she can't keep up, that she needs to be better organized. She wonders whether she's even good at her job.
—I feel like I’m always behind, always owing something.
The OSS management considered her technically competent but advised that she needed to avoid being emotionally affected by the situations involving workers or users, to be more ‘neutral.’
Maria is yet another worker fatigued by exhausting workdays. Endless administrative tasks, 27 and constant pressure create a daily life driven by urgency and the persistent feeling of being in debt. Fatigue and drained bodies reflect a sustaining logic of the enterprise-mode, a system that demands managerial and worker performance according to the logic of managerialism, 8 alienating workers from the care and relational dimensions of health work.
There is brutalism, as described by Mbembe,
28
in the current stage of capitalism, a drive to make the extraction of labor and of workers’ bodies ever more efficient, a process already embedded in Fordism and Toyotism,
29
which seizes ‘living beings as raw material.’ For Mbembe,
28
‘there is no sphere of contemporary existence that has not been penetrated by capital . . . whether in affections, emotions, feelings, linguistic skills, manifestations of desire, dreams, or thought. In short, life itself, nothing seems to escape its reach.'
28
(pp72-73) In a Single Click The auditorium is full of managers and coordinators, chatter, and a tense atmosphere is in the air. A group of people in suits walks in, introducing themselves as representatives of the new OSS that has taken over the region. They announce that they will present an innovative employee time-control program. One manager says he thought they’d start by asking to get to know us, to listen to the needs of the services, and present proposals. —Silence, please. Let's begin the presentation. Alexandre comes to us with vast experience in time-control systems. He's worked with major companies like Coca-Cola. Alexandre— You’ll have access to one of the most modern systems, the same used by Coca-Cola! This program lets you access your time sheet through your corporate cell phone. Each supervisor will receive an alert on the cellphone when an employee clocks in and out, allowing monitoring of lateness or attempts to manipulate overtime. Employees can also receive notifications on their phones. The program also allows scheduling days off and planning vacations. It includes an online spreadsheet where the employee enters their request, and the manager receives an alert and decides whether to approve it, avoiding unnecessary conversations during work hours. The morning continues with more technical details. —It must be similar to the Disney management model being implemented by another OSS running the local hospital, someone says. —I love it, adds another manager. No more wasting time explaining to workers why I can't approve a day off; just one click and it's done.
In public health services, this enterprise-mode shifts management practices toward organizational goals derived from large corporations, using technological devices that promise to solve problems ‘in a single click.’ These tools apply corrective measures without the need for dialogue with workers, thereby restricting spaces for exchange, negotiation, and participation—another trap that disguises everyday problems. As Dardot and Laval 26 remind us: ‘"Here we come to the heart of the new modes of government peculiar to neo-liberal rationality, one of whose major principles can be encapsulated in the Bentham`s phrase: ‘The more strictly we are watched, the better we behave.’ The company must replace bureaucracy wherever possible, and when it cannot, the bureaucrat should conduct himself as much as possible like an entrepreneur.’ 26 (pp260-261)
But can we really think of those who work in the SUS as if they were working for Coca-Cola? Performance Targets CAPS manager —Team, I urgently need the spreadsheet of the cases we follow, with their respective Individual Therapeutic Projects (Projetos Terapêuticos Singulares – PTS). That's why I asked João, from the administrative office, to fill it out over the weekend to speed up your work. I now need each technician to sign the PTS for their respective patients.
Leonora, a psychologist, asks to review the spreadsheet of users under her care before signing. The manager threatens her with a warning, but she insists on not signing. She reviews the spreadsheet and comments:
—Here it says that João participates in the walking group, soccer, and capoeira, but right now, he wouldn't be doing any of these activities.
The manager, irritated, asks:
—Why not?
—He's just had an amputation, answers Leonora.
Leonora resists the pace of urgency and immediacy. The expansion and diffusion of the enterprise-mode, which has come to dominate work processes in health care, seem to drain and distort the meaning of user care. There is a displacement rooted in the entrepreneurial automation of operational protocols and procedures. It is common to hear from teams that they no longer have time to think about care, that bureaucracy and numerical spreadsheets have invaded the work process, categorizing and stratifying it.
In the municipality of São Paulo, the transfer of public funds to OSS also depends on meeting productivity indicators and performance targets defined in management contracts. However, it is important to note that within the directly administered public services, these same mechanisms of control and work standardization have been gaining strength.
29
Do Not Provoke, Do Not Expose: ‘Better Not Touch This’
Valtinho, who lived in the SRT and had been hospitalized, and I, as the manager responsible for the service, decided to go see him.
—Hi, Valtinho, how are you?
—It hurts, dear. It hurts!
With great effort, he raises his arms and shows his armpits with raw wounds. The sight frightens me.
The hospital nurse, standing beside him says:
—He was agitated, very aggressive. We had to put him in restraints.
I leave the hospital breathless, struggling to breathe. I then decide to speak with Viviane, the mental health coordination of the OSS, who tells me:
—I understand, but let's not confront the hospital.
—But we need to talk to the hospital about the use of restraints!
I can't accept that and I contact the official at the Municipal Health Department, who replies:
—You’re lucky because a hospital that was managed by another OSS had been refusing to admit psychiatric crisis patients. Better not touch this. They have to be our partners! We have to bow to their demands.
Control is explicit in the discourse: do not provoke, do not expose, keep up appearances. Control of goals, of expenses, of bodies. In the enterprise-mode, relationships are maintained through the silencing of contradictions, violence, and conflicts. The analysis of incidents and failures is pushed aside in favor of maintaining the image of a ‘proper-functioning’ enterprise.
The neoliberal market logic thus invades the field of public health, where corporate organizations compete for contracts, territories, and funding. The management of health services in the municipality of São Paulo is divided among 67 different OSS, 30 which then make decisions regarding their workforce such as hiring, salaries, working hours, training, transfers, and dismissals, without taking into account the impacts on user care or on the communities they serve.10,11
Note that in the narrative above there are multiple hierarchical layers in the management of the public mental health policy: the unit manager hired by the OSS, the different managerial levels within the OSS (directors, coordinators, supervisors), and the administrators of the Municipal Health Secretariat, who provide the agreements with several OSS and should ensure that these organizations provide quality care aligned with the principles of the SUS, yet this is not what actually occurs.
The competition for public funding pushes the OSS to show only their ‘best side,’ making questioning and criticism unwelcome. Business relations shift the focus away from user care and toward market interests and demands. Alana versus OSS’ Public Image André, a nurse at the child and adolescent CAPS, calls the manager Alana, reporting that they were having difficulties with the adolescents Felipe, Renatinho, and Marcinho. —Hi, Alana, sorry to call on the weekend, but we’re here at the service and things are rough. We had to get Felipe out of the bathroom, he locked himself in with a paperclip trying to hurt himself. Then two teenage girls had psycho disorganization and wanted to cut themselves too. Marcinho is trying to run away to the street, and Renatinho gets agitated with all the commotion in the house. My team and I tried several things, but none of them is working. We thought about putting everyone in the pool, with some music, to change the mood a bit. —Go ahead, says Alana, the service manager. At the end of the shift, she gets the report from André. —It worked! There was laughter, play, joy, inside and outside the pool. Everyone calmed down.
Days later, the scene is under the glare of a sensationalist TV program: ‘Mental health clinic workers throw a pool party during the pandemic.’
Alana is called to explain herself to the OSS management, who say:
—This is not the kind of CAPS management we want for the city.
Alana imagines her head rolling alongside others and thinks: Do I answer? Do I say what I think or what they want to hear?
On one hand, the team and the manager commit to providing care for their users. On the other, the company focuses on preserving its public image and on how Alana's actions might affect OSS competitiveness. The creativity needed to deal with psychic suffering in its many violent and vulnerable forms is disregarded by a management style that is cold and distant from care. Through managerialism, 8 it undermines the democratic, clinical-political spaces between workers, users, and managers.
In Brazil's public mental health field, we observe a reshaping of work relations, care processes, and service access for SUS users. The neoliberal logic applied to health management, particularly through OSS, promotes the commodification of care and weakens the position of workers, who are increasingly treated as disposable.
High turnover, sudden dismissals, and persecution of professionals who question management expose a model that subordinates labor and continuity of care to business interests to the detriment of service quality. As Druck
14
points out, this type of organization directly attacks public service, dismantles job stability, and compromises user care, particularly in mental health. Four Minutes Francisco, a psychologist and the manager of the SRT, was nearing the end of his long-awaited vacation. On his last day off, he received a summons to report to the OSS headquarters at 7:30 By then, Francisco already knew why he’d been called in. His guts wrenched; his dismissal was certain. He had barely twelve hours to prepare, overwhelmed by anxiety symptoms. The conversation takes place with the member responsible for the human resources of the OSS.
—We called you here to terminate your employment. Your profile is more technical than managerial. That's it. Do you have anything to say?
Francisco —I disagree with the technical justification. May I go to the unit to inform the team and the users?
—Of course. Good luck. The conversation lasted just over four minutes.
Conclusion
The psychiatric reform movement and the anti-asylum struggle in Brazil are founded on the commitment to mental care outside asylums and within the community, addressing issues related to racism, gender violence, and minority populations historically imprisoned by madness, whether in old asylums or through the asylum logic currently applied. However, the corporate management models that have expanded and become normalized within the SUS operate under a specific conception of science and ethics that permeates work relations and modes of subjectivation with a force that is often paralyzing.
The Brazilian mental health field, shaped by the struggles of workers and service users, carries a kind of militance enacted daily through labor, resistance, and the ongoing health care even in the harshest conditions. This vital and inventive force, which has generated life outside the social boundaries, is now being captured by the enterprise-mode, deepening the precariousness of both work and care while shrinking spaces for collective exchange.
This article presents traces of the trajectories of worker-researchers within the SUS and their everyday labor processes. If there are limits to this type of investigation, there is also an innovative approach at its core: an approach centered on narratives that bring visibility to certain events and issues of the enterprise-mode, as confirmed by theoretical studies from several authors, but also to the different ways of resisting it. Through writing and collective analysis, worker-researchers were able to identify what is usually rendered invisible in the daily work routine: worker illness, the fear of dismissal or persecution by management for dissenting opinions, and the loneliness and anguish of being unable to work according to the principles of psychosocial care.
Above all, the enterprise-mode is not limited to the management of services by OSS, nor merely to the business model increasingly adopted by public policies. It is everywhere. As Chaui notes, ‘the factory is a company, the school is a company, the hospital is a company, the cultural center is a company. More than that. It defines the individual as an enterprise. As human capital or as a self-entrepreneur.’ 31 (p18)
This article exposes the contradictions and brutalities that hover between the political aspiration to build a public, participatory, and emancipatory anti-asylum mental health system that meets the population's needs, and a work regime tied to corporate functioning, driven by power, competitiveness, and the resulting precarization of labor and of life itself. The workers of Brazil's public mental health system, those on the frontline of the SUS, continue to flash sparks that pierce through the silence.
Footnotes
ORCID iDs
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
