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Some people claim that the psychotherapy<\/a> room is no place for politics<\/a>, but I disagree. At a macro level, therapy exists within a particular social, cultural, environmental, and, yes, political context. Decisions made “out there,” by politicians in power, directly affect society and impact what happens “in here,” in the therapy room\u2014things like how much money the government assigns to mental health care and updates to legislation that determine whether and how we can practice certain types of therapy with certain types of people.<\/p>\n At a micro level, the stuff that clients bring to therapy is deeply embedded in wider social, cultural, environmental, and political contexts, too. Whatever personal narratives they share with us are wrapped up in and influenced by those contexts, and, therefore, clients bring political influences into the room both implicitly and explicitly. They absorb messages from politicians and media headlines about the economy, the climate, women\u2019s reproductive rights, gay rights, transgender<\/a> rights, abortion laws, and laws on immigration. These political messages impact them differently, of course, according to their sexuality<\/a>, gender<\/a>, ethnicity<\/a>, and individual circumstances. If they are gay or transgender or a woman or a child in care or an immigrant, politics influences how our clients experience their sense of self within a wider context. How can it not? And how can we ignore politics when our client\u2019s core identity<\/a>\u2014as a child in care or care leaver; an adoptee<\/a>; an adoptive or same-sex<\/a> parent; someone who has spent time in prison or other institutional setting; a transgender man, woman, or child; or an immigrant\u2014is politicised and debated?<\/p>\n As a registered member of the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy (BACP), I have an ethical obligation to “keep [my] skills and knowledge up to date.”3 <\/sup>This duty is open to interpretation, but for me it means subscribing to newsletters from reliable and trustworthy organisations so that I stay informed of parliamentary decisions and debates relevant to the mental health sector. It means taking a special interest in policies affecting the particular demographics I work with, which includes adolescents, young adults, and those within the LGBTQ community. It means noticing what\u2019s happening locally, in terms of support groups, live events, protests, and council elections. No man, woman, or child is an island, and I have a role in helping my clients to make sense of themselves within a wider context. If I deny the political, how can I do that effectively?<\/p>\n Because therapists are not islands either, we bring the political into the room, too. I\u2019d even go so far as to say we have a duty to bring it in, not to influence our clients, but certainly to use our “up-to-date knowledge” and self-awareness in the interest of exploring our and their experiences within a wider context. The political also creeps into our websites, profiles, and social media<\/a> posts, and, if we write, into our publications, both implicitly and explicitly. I\u2019m sure you have gleaned a “flavour” of my political leanings by now.<\/p>\n Exploratory therapy is about helping clients to make meaning. To do that, we must question our own biases, assumptions, and meaning-making, too. This includes acknowledging our own political beliefs and their origins; deciding whether they are true, core beliefs or ones we\u2019ve inherited or conformed to; and checking whether our experience and “up-to-date knowledge” supports or refutes them. An unquestioned belief can sit heavy and dormant, or fester and cause harm, however much we try to disavow it. Reflecting honestly and modelling curiosity to our clients frees us up to develop our own understanding as well as theirs.<\/p>\n When we attempt to deny the external realities that exist outside the therapy room, we do ourselves and our clients a disservice. <\/p>\n