The central difference between the two is that, rather than treating clients like patients looking for diagnoses, philosophical consultants treat clients like partners in dialogue and with the aim of helping them understand and explore both the emotional reasoning implicated in their life struggles and the philosophical outlooks to which they are committed. More can be said, of course. As I mentioned above, philosophical counseling is, in principle at least, better equipped to help clients (1) spot the faulty thinking that has them trapped in problematic patterns and (2) grapple with existential questions about God and free will and mortality and the like. As is perhaps to be expected, the primary focus of philosophical consultation is on how the client’s reasoning contributes to their life predicaments. The philosophical consultant aims to identify and excise the most fundamental irrational presumptions of the client’s belief system so that the self-destructive emotions and behaviors they support have less of a chance to regrow. The primary focus of psychological consultation, however, is on how the client’s past trauma or anxiety disorder or history of depression or so on contributes to their life predicaments. So whereas psychological consultants primarily refer to the criteria for mental disorders as laid out in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) in order to help the client handle their life predicaments, philosophical consultants primarily refer to the criteria for fallacious thinking laid out in logic manuals and in the works of philosophers throughout the centuries.

That said, there is no strict division. It is not as if, for example, clients who are anxious about the possibility that God does not exist only should go to a philosophical consultant whereas clients caught up in destructive patterns of behavior only should go to a psychological consultant. Both “sides” in most cases have at least something to say on all the problems with which a client is dealing. And both philosophical and psychological consultants use similar techniques (assigning writing or reading or social homework, displaying nonjudgmental acceptance of the doer behind even the most atrocious deeds, making good faith efforts to overcome challenges in their own lives as a concrete demonstration that they are in the trenches with the client, and so on).

If we are to put clients first, it seems best to harness the complementary strengths of various forms of counseling. (As I make it a point to repeat, though, when it comes to cases of mental disorders I am quick to refer clients to other counselors that have the appropriate licenses (which I am only in the beginning stages of obtaining) as well as the empirically-backed insights into various facets of psychic reality.)

My approach as a philosophical consultant is not meant to replace other approaches. If you go to a psychiatrist for your anger you might expect drugs. If you go to a psychoanalyst, you might expect talk about past traumas. If you go to a social worker, you might expect scrutiny of your familial circumstances. Since my strong suit as a philosopher is in thinking rationally, you can expect me to scrutinize your reasoning for ways to improve its hygiene. The goal is to make you better at thinking about your thinking, at differentiating good reasoning from bad reasoning, and at using good reasoning to fend off bad reasoning. You will not, as a result, be immune to powerful feelings like anxiety and grief and anger. Emotions are a key aspect of being human. Being human, you are bound to shoot yourself in the foot and do things you regret and get worked up and make bad choices. Although you will not be perfect, ideally you will be better equipped to handle your emotions and the ups and downs of life—not perfect, but leveled up and so happier. Indeed, one of the key first steps to leveling up in this way is not demanding perfection of yourself and others—reminding yourself that no one is perfect when things do not work out.

A sufficient answer to this question can be gathered from earlier points. But let me say this. The primary focus of philosophical counseling is on assessing and discussing a client’s beliefs—what those beliefs are, whether they are rationally supported, and whether they cohere with other beliefs to which the client ascribes. The fruitful process of assessing and discussing the noncognitive aspects of emotions and behaviors, and the past experiences that drive emotions and behaviors, take a backseat. Emotions and behaviors are a key focus of sessions, no doubt. It is just that emphasis is placed on figuring out how to use the rational faculties to regulate them. Philosophical counseling, like more cognitively-oriented forms of psychological counseling, assumes that clients have sufficient intellectual ability to understand where they are engaging in faulty thinking. For that reason, it might not be best for those with diminished capacity for rational thought or for those who are so overwhelmed by emotions that no amount of seeing, for example, how fallacious their reasoning is would help them. Clients who already know how irrational their behavior is, or how their behaviors conflict with their values, or how their beliefs rest on fallacious reasoning, or so on might benefit more from other sorts of interventions—such as hypnotherapy or medications, for example.

Danger is everywhere, of course. But if any harmful effects are going to come from philosophical counseling, I believe they will resemble the harmful effects I have seen students experience in the classroom. Inquiry into the deepest aspects of reality can be similar to using psychedelic drugs. Comfortable and convenient ways of perceiving reality could be shaken. The very presumptions we make while navigating the world (there is a God and we have free will, for example) could be called into question. I have seen many students bewildered and frightened after having learned about the array of powerful defenses for worldviews radically different from their own. A student once had a panic attack in class. We were discussing an argument for the claim that we do not know many of the things we think we know (such as that we have hands). The good thing about the one-on-one nature of philosophical counseling, however, is that I play much more of a supervisory role than in the classroom. In the classroom I might assign a reading with the word “and” in it, even though one of the students just recently came from the deathbed of her mother who was repeatedly saying “and.” In the counseling environment I am more likely aware of potential triggers to be avoided. One of my strong suits, anyway, is an ability to bring into relief, and without having to rely on tall tales, the silver lining in the most despairing of situations. Traumatic experience, while always a possibility, I hope will be unlikely in light of these considerations.

Many factors have influenced my decision. Some are amorphous. Others are specific. I will try to touch on the big ones.

Have you ever experienced a moving piece of music that you just needed to share with somebody? Well, learning about myself is one of the most exciting activities of my life, and I have long been eager to share that activity with others. The primary way in which I have so far is during office visits from students. Students open up to me. I would like to say it is because my insights and humor and candid reflections during lecture have them craving more. And I would like to say it is because my nonjudgmental nature makes them feel safe to be themselves, to cry and to laugh. But likely it is also because by expressing themselves to me, just a down to earth professor, they get a chance to act upon a deep human need to reach out to others (especially others outside their immediate relationships) while at the same time avoiding the unfortunate stigma that therapists are for crazy people. Whatever the reason, students feel comfortable sharing intimate facts about their life, and it is common for them to request career and personal advice as well as insight into their reasoning processes and motivations. My childhood friends, who would often come to me to vent about their struggles, long ago planted the seed in me: “Yo, Mike. You should become a therapist.” The trust students have placed in me to guide them to greater self-awareness, so that they can better navigate relationships and attain their goals, has definitely nourished that seed.

Another big reason is that connecting with clients and helping them get through tough situations provides me with a rewarding sense of meaning. For a long time I have been in a room thinking by myself, cut away from others. One of my claims to fame, in fact, is that I have never—knowingly—heard a Justin Bieber song. (Please do not stick one on during our sessions: I want to be able to keep saying this.) Consultation is a primary way for me to connect with others one-on-one. My career is so heady and internal and private. I have, moreover, hermetic tendencies. Offering my consultation services to other is the main way for me to feel connected. So yes, I am using clients to increase my own wellbeing just as much as they are using me. And that is okay.

Philosophical consultation, to give a related reason, allows me to be a philosopher in the applied sense of using philosophical tools, methods, and theories to address practical concerns, concerns ranging from general ethical predicaments (end-of-life questions, for example) to predicaments of everyday life (midlife crisis, for example). As an academic enterprise, philosophizing today is largely removed from considerations of application. It is more about analyzing concepts, developing proofs, and so on—more and more in a publish-or-perish mode—while cloistered away in the ivory tower. Research products are the goal, and the quicker they are pumped out the better. The whole point of the game, a game in which I myself participate, is to publish essays for others to attack so as to maximize everyone’s chance at tenure. A lot of good research comes out of this process. It is just that I was first introduced to philosophy, primarily through the figure of Socrates going around having deep conversations with people, as being self-help oriented and having application to the marketplace of everyday people, not just to the ivory tower of scholars. Although philosophy teachers are almost always going to make Socrates a vital part of their intro courses, a person who went around today in the self-help way of Socrates, trying to help people live more fulfilling lives, would likely be considered a pseudo-philosopher, someone who is not really doing serious work. Philosophical consultation gives me an outlet, therefore, to do applied philosophy, philosophy in a more practical mode, in a more intimate way. Instead of addressing abstract problems in an occasional interview here or there, which is one of the few ways that mainstream philosophers dip into public attention, philosophical consultation allows me to use my understanding of the methods and theories of philosophy to help people one-on-one with their specific problems.

The final trigger that made me take the leap into more formal consultation work, though, is the out-of-control growth of the conjoined terrors best known as victimhood culture and cancel culture. I have seen a steady increase in the inability of people, particularly students, to handle tough situations. For whatever reasons (sheltered during childhood and spoiled with feel-good meds and participation trophies), they crumble much easier—or at least fake like they do (think: soccer players writhing on the ground, hoping to get a penalty kick) for the sake of power. Anything unsettling is deemed a trauma and the more one can be said to have been victimized the more social capital one has. If such a victimhood ethos were not bad enough, coupled with it is a growing cancel ethos according to which all traumatizers, all sources of difficulty, are to be silenced and ruined. Especially since this ethos has bloomed largely from the biggest consumers in our society (younger people), enabling the traumatized to get their way is—as is perhaps expected since we are in a capitalist society—becoming entrenched. The bloodthirsty saturnalia of censoring, silencing, and shaming any source of discomfort is especially clear in universities, ironically the places where people should be going precisely to be discomforted! Recently terminated myself from an academic position without due process and merely due to off-duty artworks (many of which do admittedly invite retribution since they criticize the excesses of cancel culture), I know the toxic pattern firsthand. First a professor says something unsettling (that the holocaust happened, that the 911 attacks might partly have been a matter of retaliation for US foreign policies, or that certain data exists that goes against what we would like to be the case). Next there is an medieval-mob outcry among students for the professor to be removed. And then administrators—not wanting to appear insensitive and, perhaps more importantly, operating on the business model that the customer-student is always right—cave before the pitchfork swarm. Things have gone crazy when a professor of Chinese is fired for teaching that “nega,” a word that sounds perilously close to the n-word, is the Chinese word for “um.” As a creative writer and philosopher I have always seen the work I do as culture work. But given the iron-maiden kangaroo-court ethos of terminating even artists and professors merely accused of being sources of discomfort or perpetrators of unsanctioned attitudes, my focus on consultation is culture CRISIS work. Eradicating any source of discomfort is not the way to go. Discomfort is important for growth. One way to stop this toxic pattern, aside from poking fun at it (which I do especially in my capacity as a creative writer), is to help people to develop the skills to handle stressors (as well as to develop the courage to resist the status quo of gaining power by tearing others down, and of looking for ways to say you have been victimized, and of looking for people to ruin on grounds that they are victimizers). That is where I come in, in my own small way.

Given the nature of my approach to philosophical consultation, which is to show the role of proper reasoning in making people be their most effective selves, I am technically not going to be that effective for people with impaired rational faculties. I say “technically” because I do think I have intuitive ways to be of benefit to such populations. But still, I do not have the formal training. There are also some people who are so overwhelmed with despair, or are so hooked into a dysfunctional cycle, that perhaps no amount of focus on proper reasoning will be of benefit. A hypnotherapist would presumably be better than someone like me, for example, at helping someone—someone well aware of the irrationality of their behavior—break a cigarette addiction. And what about a crisis situation? While I am by no means scared of trying my best to help, and while I think I have good instincts to handle such situations, I am not formally trained for that. There are much better people to go to. In the end, improving our rational-thinking skills can go a long way to making us be our best selves, but sometimes much more is needed.

There are key texts in the history of philosophy, as well as in the contemporary philosophical counseling movement (see: Marinoff’s Plato, Not Prozac!, for example) that would push you to do just that. But while it is important to me to avoid creating dependence in my clients, most people do not have the requisite training in philosophy or in the tools of proper reasoning. To be sure, with enough motivation one can read the wise words of philosophers. In the best case, it is unlikely that you will gain the level of mastery I have (think about it: decades straight of training with world-renowned experts). In the worst case, and in the words of Elliott D. Cohen (the most preeminent torchbearer of the philosophical-counseling movement, and the person under whom I have trained), “the bits of wisdom” you stumble upon in your internet searches may end up “more like hemlock, not Prozac for your soul.” And even if you are a philosopher yourself, and even if you are aware in some way of the bad logic at the root of your bad behaviors, it can be more of a wakeup call, more of a motivating call to action, simply to have someone other than yourself point out what you already know.

In addition to being a member of the American Philosophical Practitioners Association (APPA), I am certified as a philosophical consultant in Logic-Based Therapy (LBT) through the National Philosophical Counseling Association (NPCA). I hold a PhD in Philosophy (as well as various other degrees in the humanities). I work holistically, combining psychological and logical insights with philosophical and religious theories. Instead of working through a psychotherapeutic model, I work through a coaching or consulting model. Coaching, which is a partnership relationship (rather than a doctor-patient relationship), aims to help you construct a higher purpose in your life, enhance your personal and professional awareness, realize your creative potentials, and overcome any life predicaments that might be getting in your way. See my Bio Page for more about me.

Email and phone can be used, but it is best to use zoom or the like so that I have access to body language.

There is not much to say as far as a set agenda other than doing what it takes to help you live a full life, one in which you better understand yourself. Especially in early conversations, where it is important that clients themselves shape the aim of the talks, I am open to go where clients want to go. Typically clients begin by talking about their daily habits, their career trajectory, and the health of their most important relationships. After homing in on your reasoning and values around such areas and beyond, I might wind up giving you homework, such as reading certain texts or drawing or making diary entries. Nothing is obligatory, though. I go with what you are comfortable with and what is best in your case. You might benefit from some sort of exposure therapy for your performance anxiety whereas someone else might benefit from journaling to deal with their anger issues.

However open I try to be, I do have certain goals and orientations that factor into steering the conversation. As a philosophical consultant, I want to make sure that important life decisions are not being made on the basis of lack of evidence, fallacious thinking, vague concepts, or presumptions inconsistent with the client’s worldview. So aside from being more prone to address the deepest questions of existence, clients can expect thorough questioning (especially in order to spot inconsistencies, ambiguities, and implicit presumptions). Clients can expect me to ask for definitions of their terms as well as justifications for their claims. Clients can expect me to present perspectives at odds with their own. Clients can expect me to show how various theories of philosophy over the centuries might have significance for the issues they face. Clients can expect me to glom onto instances of irrationality, especially when that irrationality is supporting patterns of thinking and behaving that are self-defeating. So as to make our conversations welcoming and constructive, so as to ensure that clients do not feel they need to put up their guard or be hostile, all of this is done, however, with a light touch and in an exploratory mode, never to shame or attack or teardown the client.

Let me give a concrete example. Imagine that a client believes that he will remove the main source of his suffering only if he changes careers. Imagine also that the client, after I ask him what grounds he has for thinking that this is true, reasons as follows. “Well, if I change careers, then I will remove the main source of my suffering. So, if I do not change my career, then I will not remove the main source of my suffering.” There are three main problems with this argument. First, the premise—namely, “if I change careers, then I will remove the main source of my suffering”—might not be true. For all we know at this point at least, the demon of suffering might follow no matter what career he chooses. Second, the conclusion—namely, “if I do not change my career, then I will not remove the main source of my suffering”—might not be true. For all we know at this point at least, a mere place-of-employment change (rather than a full-on career change) will remove the main source of suffering. Most importantly, however, the reasoning of this argument is invalid. Even if we assume that the premise is true, that need not mean that the conclusion is true. Put in variable form, even if we assume that if x, then y, that need not mean that if not-x, then not-y. “If x, then y” implies, yes, “if not-y, then not-x.” But “if x, then y” does not imply “if not-x, then not-y.” Think about it. “If I buy a collie, then I buy a dog” implies “if I do not buy a dog, then I do not buy a collie.” It does not imply, however, “if I do not buy a collie, then I do not buy a dog.”

Consider another example as well. Through our conversations, which are meant to encourage you to think about your own thinking, imagine it becomes clear that a core reason for your consistent pattern of trouble with female romantic partners—jealousy, control issues, or so on—is an assumption operative in the background of your thinking. The assumption is that women want a big penis. Indeed, they want a big penis first and foremost, and so are prone to run away with any guy who has a bigger penis. First of all I remind you, as embarrassing as this might make you feel to face, that it is an understandable worry in our culture. Music and movies and social media consistently reinforce the importance of a big penis. There is talk of “big-dick energy.” Lady Gaga says, so I have heard at least, that what she looks for in a boyfriend is one main thing: a big dick. Second, I point out how this assumption is irrational on many fronts. How can you reduce all women in this way? There are plenty of women who do not prioritize a big penis. There are plenty, in fact, that prefer smaller penises. There is also the sheer fact of the size of the vagina and where the pleasure centers are. Even if you cannot hit these regions, which is highly unlikely, there are other solutions (such as toys). And even when it comes to women who want a big penis there are other things they might want more, things that you can offer: stability, healthy routines, and so on.

So you see, my focus is more on the client’s belief systems and patterns of reasoning than on life events that might have shaped those systems and patterns. Do not get me wrong, I am open to helping clients talk through the past traumas that play a major role in their inner turmoil. And I am open to helping clients see the causal influences of their behavioral patterns. But since my training is primarily in the humanities (and specifically in dissecting argumentation) rather than in the social sciences (and specifically in understanding the emotional and behavioral consequences of the circumstances and events in one’s past), there are others better equipped to do so. And for whatever it is worth, most of my clients are already well-versed in that trauma (or know that they had insecure attachments to caregivers at an early age, or so on). Many, I find, are actually “hooked” on revisiting those problems (telling themselves and loved ones the same stories of horror) instead of developing strategies to move beyond being victimized by them. Oriented by a cognitive-behavioral approach known as logic-based therapy (LBT, which you can read about extensively above and online), my focus is less about helping you find causal explanations for your disruptive thoughts or actions and more about helping you use proper reasoning to deal with your disruptive thoughts or actions.

One technique I like to use to achieve this end is having clients write down their personal thoughts on how they see themselves in relation to friends, family, society, the universe, or personal thoughts about where they think things are going well for them or not going well, or personal thoughts on what frustrates them or on what triggers maladaptive behavior. Putting their thoughts and feelings down on paper allows clients and I to make more dispassionate sense of them while also allowing me to point out potential instances of bad reasoning or unwarranted beliefs. Writing about our worst fears or past traumas can help us, in general, exhaust our emotions about them and so can be therapeutic.

My primary clients are usually people. But it is perfectly fine for hospitals or corporations to reach out for service.

My rates are a function of the difficulty of the life predicaments the client is going through (which will influence how many sessions are needed) and also your financial circumstances. That said, my average so far is 100 to 150 dollars for a 60 minute session (for 1 to 3 participants) and 40 to 60 dollars a person for 4 to 8 participants.

There is perhaps no more serious counseling question than this. Let me say upfront that respecting the autonomy and dignity of the client is of utmost importance. Not to get too far afield, but I also think that when service providers have policies to stop clients from carrying out their aims no matter what (even if it means breaching privacy or calling the police or whatever) that can deter clients from seeking out service providers in the first place.

Before I can provide an adequate answer to the question at hand, some additional context is needed. In particular, I need to know why the client finds that death is preferable to life. Why does the client make the inference that death is the only escape from the difficulties or threats he experiences? If, for example, the decision to commit suicide rested on fallacious reasoning or was inconsistent with the client’s other beliefs, then it is my duty—just by the nature of philosophical consultation—to point that out. Again, personal freedom is important to me. I hope that clients trust me to help them work through their thinking and planning without fear that I will infringe upon that freedom. Calling out bad reasoning, especially when that reasoning is motivating such an extreme decision, is not infringing upon the client’s freedom. If anything, it only increases their freedom by allowing them to make a more informed decision.

But what if the client decides upon suicide on the basis of good reasoning? Even in the case where suicide seems to be the most rational option, it is still my “duty” as a philosopher as well as simply a fellow human to give some pushback. I might, for example, explain why heavy-hitting philosophers, such as Kant, think that suicide is never the rational option, despite what you might think. And you can expect me to indicate that not only is the suicide decision irreversible and potent, but that its consequences ripple out to friends and family—including children. They are the ones that are going to have to live with this. Assuming that the “this” that they are going to have to live with can rightfully be described as a “horror” and count as a devastating “harm,” pointing this out might just be the very thing that pulls the client back from the ledge. After all, the typical rational grounds for suicide is going to rest on some sort of consequentialist ethic—an ethic that says, in short, that the rightness or wrongness of an action is a function of the consequences it will have. Assuming that the consequentialist ethic motivating the decision is other regarding and so something more akin to utilitarianism, which says that the rightness or wrongness of an action is a function of the consequences it will have on others, then I might be able to point out that—all things considered—the decision might not be the best according to the very ethical theory motivating the decision. Carrying out such a task is also by no means infringing on personal freedom. Giving people reasons, and other perspectives, can never be appropriately described, so at least it would seem, as an infringement on personal freedom.

But what if the client, suffering extreme physical illness (like that of Freud in his last days), decides upon suicide after months of contemplation and on the basis of good reasoning that is perfectly consistent with the client’s other beliefs? Playing devil’s advocate has a major place in the discussions we will be having, and so I expect that I would press hard on the reasons against suicide and refer the client not only to relevant literature but to other experts. Might there be some other way aside from death to escape the difficulties? Might the decision change by helping the client understand past hardships as accidents that provided valuable learning experience to future growth? And so on. Even here, though, the client is always free to ignore even my most forceful admonitions.

It is important to keep in mind something I pointed out earlier. I am not a licensed therapist, and technically we are just having a conversation, not a “therapy” session. I have no legal obligation to report you to authorities in that case. Indeed, one of the bedrock codes of philosophical counseling is that client autonomy, privacy, and dignity are put before all else. Desire to keep the client alive, however powerful the motivations, does not trump that. That said, it is one of my duties to carry out some of the resistance maneuvers mentioned above and also refer you to a therapist. Potential clients better believe that I will reach out to key mentors of mine in the philosophical counseling community for advice (while preserving the client’s privacy, of course). Lastly, keep in mind that in having me as your counselor, you are dealing with a human. A human is an emotional creature. Technically, it could end up happening that I try my best to see what legal ground I have to intervene. To be straight up, though, that by no means is in line with my permissive style—a style likely permissive enough, let us just say, to disqualify me as a suicide-hotline operator.

In any relationship where there is some sort of power differential or where one of the parties is to some extent dependent on the other, it is important to have a code of ethics in place. A code of ethics is especially important here. I want my clients to feel safe sharing their intimate details. While I do conceive my meetings with clients as peer-to-peer and primarily to provide clients an avenue for self-exploration, my expertise—the very reason clients come to me—does engender inequality in power. That is why I take ethical standards seriously. Formally, I follow the standards of ethical practice outlined by the NCPA, which is the association with which I most align. I will link it in a button below. But if I may, I will also lay out the main standards that guide my practice. Clients are always invited to refer me back to the codes if they feel I have deviated from them.

First, I will make reasonable efforts to respect your welfare and wishes while also being sensitive to your values and loyalties. Uncomfortable emotions are likely to arise during sessions. Realizing the faultiness of your thinking, hitting the edges of what you know, working through triggering memories, attempting to change your beliefs—all these things, which demand action on your part, could be painful. But I am here in solidarity with you. Remember that!

Second, I will share information about you to third-parties (family members, other specialists, businesses, or so on) only with your explicit permission. I will happily sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement to ensure this legally.

Third, I will make reasonable efforts to increase my level of expertise in philosophical consultation, keep informed about changes in relevant policies and laws, and maintain a referral network of licensed mental-health professionals.

Fourth, I will make reasonable efforts to justify my approach and to indicate the limits of my expertise and to avoid scheduling unnecessary sessions.

Fifth, I will make reasonable efforts to ensure that you engage with me as a fellow explorer (rather than as someone waiting to be told what to do). What should be done is always your choice even when I suggest strategies for resolving an issue. Rather than impose my views as some paternalistic intervener (“As an expert I know what is wrong with you and I will cure you if only you trust me”), my aim is to empower you to make rational decisions all by yourself (even if those decisions go against what I would do in your shoes). I am here to aid you in discovering what you really want and in making choices that help bring about what you really want.

Sixth, I will make reasonable efforts to ensure that I never turn you down for ideological or racial or gender reasons. If I do not accept you as a client or if I terminate the interaction, it will be only because I feel unable to offer competent service (for whatever reason: limited time, limited expertise, or so on).

Seventh, I will make reasonable efforts to ensure that you need not become dependent on me to navigate your life. The aim is to make changes to the problems in your thinking, especially the deep-seated ones that cause related problems to arise again and again in different guises. While it is your choice to come back for as many sessions as you want, I prioritize empowering you in such a way that you can navigate life more effectively all by yourself with the help of generalizable thinking skills.

Eighth, I will make reasonable efforts to refer you to other practitioners whenever I feel not up to the task of helping you. Aside from unforeseen events in my own life, one of the primary reasons I might refer you elsewhere is if you are dealing with a severe mental disorder. I am not equipped to treat anyone’s psychotic disorders (hallucinations or catatonic tendencies), or bipolar disorders, or obsessive-compulsive disorders, or personality disorders, or so on. That does not mean I will not welcome you if you have any of these disorders. And it does not mean that you have nothing to gain from philosophical consultation if you have any of these disorders. It is just that dealing with these disorders will not be the focus. As I say elsewhere, consultation sessions target life predicaments, specifically the client’s reasoning when it comes to those predicaments: value disagreements, time management issues, financial issues, midlife issues, sibling rivalry, mortality, and the like. (For the most part, I abide by the practice areas and boundaries of a philosophical consultant as laid out in detail here: .)

Ninth, and so that I am in a good position to speak to you in ways that resonate with your own values and loyalties, I will make reasonable efforts to build a caring connection. Rather than approaching you with an attitude of cold detachment or suspicion, rather than seeing you only through the lens of some theory, I will take the time, in effect, to see where you are coming from (while trying my best to appreciate the merits of your perspective). Indeed, I am not afraid to resonate empathetically with your situation. We have all felt lonely or like impostors. We have all feared transitions or struggled to get along with family. I am not afraid to share my own stories and challenges in our discussions. I have no problem sharing all the nasty emotions and destructive behaviors and faulty thinking that have taken a toll on my own happiness. And I have no problem sharing how I use philosophy to manage and control myself and fight off self-imposed torture. I value openness.

Tenth, I will make reasonable efforts to ensure that I never make you feel irrational just because we have different fundamental values. And when I do point out irrationality (say, an instance of fallacious argumentation), I will do so with care and while reassuring you that there is a distance (a doer-deed distinction) between who you are and the fallacious argument you have endorsed—a doer-deed distinction whose failure to be appreciated, a common instance of faulty thinking, often factors into the struggles that many clients have with their life predicaments, provoking unnecessary self-torture. It is important to me to remind clients that they are worthy of respect no matter the mistakes they make.