When we hear people complain about things like a slow Internet connection or not having enough space in the refrigerator, we jokingly say they have “First World problems.” By this we mean that the complainers don’t know how easy they have it. They’re spoiled. They lack perspective.

That’s why we sometimes feel confused and skeptical when people who seem to have a lot of advantages still struggle in their lives. How many times have you read about celebrities (or their kids) checking into rehab or being hospitalized for “exhaustion”? Did you ever think to yourself, “If I had their life I’d be enjoying myself, not screwing up”? Maybe you wondered, “What do they have to be depressed about?”

I feel pretty lucky most of the time. Growing up, I was never hungry and I always felt secure. I’ve been able to attend good schools. I have options, and I feel like I have at least some control over my own life and future. In many ways, I am clearly better off than hundreds of millions of people around the world who live in extreme poverty.

Most of my friends and schoolmates could be described in pretty much the same way. We have money, we have time, we have plans. We’re developing our minds, building up our resumes, applying to colleges. Yet often it seems like many of them take their relatively fortunate circumstances for granted. They don’t appreciate all the advantages and resources we have. A lot of the time they just seem bored. Of course, sometimes I am the same way—but my parents are usually there to catch me at it. Since I was little, they’ve taught me to recognize and value some of the privileges they never had.

Unlike me, both my parents grew up poor. My father grew up in Brooklyn, my mother in Uruguay. When she was a child, a can of soda was a rare treat, something her whole family might share. Air conditioning was an unimaginable luxury. In my life, these are minor things that I frequently take for granted. Remembering that it’s not that way for everyone helps me balance out the occasional frustrations and disappointments everybody faces.

Yet many of my friends suffer from depression and anxiety. Others struggle with eating disorders or substance abuse. My friend Matt was known for being extremely funny and always cheering everybody else up. He was 18 when he shot himself with his dad's gun. Naturally, everyone was shocked. After all, he had friends and he was widely appreciated. How could he be that depressed?

When it comes to mental illness, we need to be careful about belittling anybody’s problems because of who they are or what their lives are like. Just pointing out that other people might have it worse doesn't help anybody. In fact, sometimes “First World” privilege can even intensify mental health challenges. It may seem strange, but people living in less-developed countries are often less depressed and anxious than those living in richer nations. As one writer noted in The Atlantic, Americans “blow other nations away in the depression factor, leading some to suggest that depression is a ‘luxury disorder.’” It may be relevant that, as China’s economy has expanded, so has the number of people there affected by depression and anxiety.

Why is this? It is possible that having to focus on basic survival leaves no room for being depressed. It is possible that the massive amount of information and stimuli to which we First Worlders tend to be subjected affects our brains in dangerous ways. It is possible that highly competitive cultures with sharp income inequality make people feel isolated, or like failures. They focus on what they are missing, rather than on what they have. Perspective?

There may be other factors skewing the data. Obviously, people in richer countries are more likely to have access to mental health professionals who diagnose and treat conditions that only seem more prevalent in those places. In wealthier nations, people live longer, making them more likely to develop conditions like dementia. Cynics may also trace increased diagnoses to the pharmaceutical industry’s enthusiasm for selling profitable antidepressant drugs. Broad diagnostic categories may be encompassing situations not formerly recognized as mental health disorders. Some cultures may place a stigma on mental health problems, impeding diagnoses, or may attribute them to other causes. Monitoring of mental health problems in developing nations also receives little attention compared to seemingly more dramatic issues such as refugees and famines, so the accuracy of all these numbers may be uncertain. However, we do see significantly more variety between countries in rates of depression and anxiety than in other mental illnesses like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder, which tend to appear at fairly consistent rates around the world.

Perspective is important my life, but I’m not ready to prescribe it as a cure-all for other people’s mental health issues—or to dismiss anybody’s struggles because of their level of privilege or resources. Suffering is suffering. Anybody battling mental illness deserves compassion and support.

But maybe we also need to recommit, as a society, to “traditional values.” Not the kind always being tossed around in the media by right-wing pundits, but literally things that have historically been valuable to human beings, what the writer Patricia Pearson calls “buffers”: things like closer proximity and ties to family and community. Less affluent cultures tend to remain more traditional, and therefore preserve such buffers. With all of our wealth and technology, we should be able to help provide those things if they have gone missing in people’s lives.

Bringing ourselves closer together may not solve everybody’s problems or mental health issues, but at least we may then find it easier to notice when our children or friends or neighbors need help, and to confide in others when we need help. Maybe that is the perspective we are missing.