"Philosophical counseling is to reason what psychotherapy is to emotions."
I have this quote written in my notes, but I’ll leave it uncredited for now because I can’t remember if I read it somewhere, if someone told me, or if I came up with it myself. Regardless, it captures the spirit of philosophical counseling nicely—the inquiry genre I primarily engage in.1
The three inquiry genres are:
Coaching
Psychotherapy
Philosophical Counseling
Here is a chart...
I have been critical of coaching before. There is a "coach industrial complex" out there—full of poor man Tony Robbins’, doping people on state changes and the promise of "transformation." Marketers, really—charging exorbitant amounts and creating coaching cults.
I have also been critical of psychotherapy. The “therapy talk,” which I’m guilty of at times, can be excruciating to hear when overdone. Holding space, feeling seen, trauma, trauma, trauma. No, not everything needs a therapeutic intervention. Sometimes, you just have to get shit done.
In fairness, many who label themselves coaches or therapists escape the lameness of the uncharitable archetypes I list above. They offer real value when their inquiry genre is appropriate. However, given market economy arrangements ("I must keep this client to make $$$"), there is a tendency to awkwardly force-fit their modality onto clients—even when it is not appropriate. This risk is ever-present.
This is where the philosophical counselor comes in. It takes wisdom to know which inquiry genre best meets the moment. But first—let me be clear—I am most critical of philosophers, especially the academic kind. Theoretical in a way that never touches grass. Not lovers of wisdom in a practical sense. They have the best reasoning prowess, but they have lost the wisdom scent.
Philosophical counselors are supposed to rectify this. It’s a new field and still feels like the Wild West. What I like about it is its focus on one’s reasoning and the worldview that "worlds" from it. One could argue that philosophical counseling actually requires greater trust than the other two genres, because tinkering with someone’s worldview and axiomatic beliefs is no joke.
From time to time, with my inquiry partners, I encounter what I’ll call a dangerous inquiry—one that gets at hinge propositions, presses against the contours of their logical space, and tickles their metaphysics. It can be ontologically shocking. The inquiry usually starts with something concrete—like relationships or livelihood—but unexamined premises lurk beneath, capable of changing everything.
The outcomes of a dangerous inquiry are:
You upend your life.
You "refactor" your worldview.
The first means something must change—you leave your relationship, your job, your "self." The second means you change your "code" (your reasons and resonance) without it dramatically altering the externals of your life. This can be done, but you don’t know if this will be the outcome when embarking on a dangerous inquiry.
I think philosophical counselors should have some skills in coaching and therapy to help their partners stay agentic and love what’s not being met (and to know when to pass a client to someone more capable in these areas). Likewise, I think coaches and therapists need some philosophical literacy to recognize when dangerous inquiries are near.
One premise can change a life. And in these transitional days, many premises need to be changed.
If you have any questions, insights, feedback, or criticism on this entry or more generally, message me below (I read and respond on Saturdays) …
Over the years, I’ve played with different category titles to describe my inquiry practice—daemon whisperer (WTF?!), philosophical guide, philosophical coach, etc. I’m just going to tap out on searching for new titles and stick with what’s already established.