Is Your Therapist Socially Just… or Just Following a Script?

Sunday, March 2, 2025.

Lately, I’ve been wondering: When do “relational ethics” turn into a socially mandated checklist for being a "good" therapist?"

You know, the kind where therapy stops being about the client and starts feeling like a game of "Did I say the right thing?" Therapist Edition.

See, I didn’t always think this way.

I was trained in good, old-fashioned, Marriage and Family Therapy.

The goal was to diagnose problems, treat symptoms, and reduce meaningless human suffering.

A little formulaic? Sure. But clear.

But I was also taught Narrative Therapy, Poststructuralism, and the creeping realization that maybe—just maybe—people’s problems aren’t self-contained little disorders but rather tangled messes of culture, oppression, and society’s expectations.

Suddenly, I wasn’t just looking at depression and anxiety.

I was looking at capitalism’s relentless pressure to be “productive,” systemic inequalities, and the existential crisis of trying to figure out what “living your best life” even means.

So far, so good. Then came the rules.

It turns out, even progressive therapy spaces love a good set of rules.

And that’s where things start getting weird.

Because when ethics—something inherently messy, nuanced, and deeply human—turn into hard-and-fast prescriptions, we’re no longer talking about ethics. We’re talking about ideological compliance.

When Ethics Turn Into Rules and Therapy Starts Sounding Like a Buzzfeed Listicle

Example: the recent push for white therapists to always name their whiteness in sessions with BIPOC clients.

The idea? To dismantle power inequalities in the therapy room. Sounds noble.

But when I heard therapists suggesting this should be as routine as explaining confidentiality, my brain did a little record scratch.

Because here’s the thing: Who is this actually serving?

If my client is already exhausted from navigating racial microaggressions all day, is my self-conscious monologue about my whiteness really what they need? Am I helping them… or making it about me?

I’ve named my whiteness before. I’ve also named my heterosexuality, my neurotypicality, my obvious gender identity, and other privileged aspects of my identity when it felt relevant—but always with an option:

“Would this be a useful conversation for you?”

Sometimes, the answer is yes.

Sometimes, the answer is a hard no.

And I listen—because therapy should be about the client’s needs, not my performative wokeness.

When Therapy Becomes a Political Sorting Hat

This isn’t just about race. I’ve also seen a growing expectation that therapists should publicly state their political beliefs so potential clients can make sure their therapist aligns with their worldview.

And look, I get it.

Nobody wants to accidentally trauma-dump to a therapist who thinks your struggles are a personal failure and not, say, the logical outcome of late-stage Limbic Capitalism.

But should this be a rule?

Should therapists be listing their political affiliations like they’re running for office? Should I be handing out “Know My Political Alignment” brochures at intake sessions?

Therapy has always had an implicit political element—it’s impossible not to, because we live in a world shaped by power, oppression, and social structures.

But therapy is also supposed to be a space where complexity can breathe.

And what I’m seeing now is a cultural shift in which we no longer allow space for complexity, where folks feel they must declare allegiance to a side before even starting a conversation.

Which leads me to…

The Hazards of Turning Therapy Into a Moral Purity Test

Rigid rules—no matter how well-intentioned—tend to create the very power structures they claim to oppose.

They can:
✅ Make therapists more focused on following the “right” steps than actually being present
✅ Turn the session into an ideological performance rather than a real, messy, human conversation
✅ Reduce complex, nuanced dynamics into black-and-white moral sorting

And that last one is a doozy. Because polarization is the water we’re all swimming in.

Take, for example, the time a client asked for my political stance—not because they were deeply interested in my views, but because they were feeling pressured to cut off family members who didn’t share their politics.

Had I jumped in with my own stance, I would have been reinforcing the exact black-and-white thinking that was already suffocating them. Instead, the real work was in helping them navigate the gray areas, the relational tensions, the “how do I love people whose values I don’t share?”

And isn’t that the whole point of therapy? To help people tolerate the messiness of being human, rather than enforce ideological rigidity?

What If We Just… Sat in the Mess?

Even writing this, I can hear a little voice whispering: “What if you’re wrong? What if this is the kind of take that gets your ass canceled on Therapy Twitter?”

And honestly? That’s part of the problem.

We are so afraid of getting it wrong that we’ve traded curiosity for correctness, dialogue for doctrinal purity. Consequently, I don’t give a rat’s ass about posting this.

Because real therapy—the kind that actually helps people—isn’t about saying the right things. It’s about showing up, staying present, and navigating the discomfort of uncertainty.

Because the world outside of therapy is already divided into echo chambers.

Governments, institutions, social media—they’re all driving people into ideological bunkers. But therapy should be a refuge from that. It should be a place where people don’t have to prove their worthiness before they can be understood.

So, to my fellow therapists: What if we stopped trying to be the “most just” therapist™️ and instead focused on being the most present, engaged, and human therapist we can possibly be?

What if we ditched the scripts and returned to the messy, nuanced, deeply relational work of actually bestowing attention?

Maybe then, therapy can do what it’s supposed to: help folks figure out how to be human in a world that threatens to turn us into ideologues.

Therapy Should Be Jazz, Not a Script

• Ethical awareness? Great.

• Power-conscious therapy? Essential.

• Prescriptive, rule-based mandates that override nuance and complexity? Not so much. Bless your heart.

Let’s keep having the hard conversations. Let’s hold space for complexity. And most of all, let’s not let therapy become another purity test in an already divided world.

Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.