Irreverence is one of the most important safeguards for a therapist working with couples.

Cecchin used the term to describe a healthy disrespect for certainty. Not disrespect for people, but for explanations that harden too quickly into truth (1992).

In couple therapy this matters because the room is already full of certainty. Each partner arrives with a clear explanation of what happened, why it happened, and who is responsible. Very quickly, the conversation becomes a collision of competing certainties: who did what first, whose interpretation is correct, what the “real” problem is, and what needs to change.

Irreverence prevents the therapist from being pulled into one of these explanations too quickly. The ability to interrupt and redirect, to actively shape and choreograph the interaction, is simply not possible if there is too much reverence for emotional expression as truth.

This does not mean dismissing what is brought into the room. It is given space. It is acknowledged. But it is not taken at face value as reality. The way subjective experience is often treated by the couple as fact is directly tied to how the relationship maintains itself over time.

Irreverence allows the therapist to recognise this without reinforcing it. It shifts the focus from what is being said to how it is being said, from content to interaction. That shift is what makes intervention possible.

In this sense, irreverence enables the therapist to intervene, and this is why it is so critical.

But irreverence is not only directed towards the couple. It also applies to the therapist and how the therapist relates to themselves.

In simple terms, irreverence here means not taking yourself too seriously. Not becoming so focused on your model or techniques that you lose contact with the people and the lived experience in the room.

This extends to how the therapist positions themselves in the room. Being proactive, directive, and intentional is not the same as positioning yourself as the authority on whether a couple should stay together, or making statements and pushing for relational outcomes that belong to the couple.

For me, this is why I see my role as changing how people have conversations and interact. My focus is on what happens between them in real time. I do not need to tell them whether to separate or divorce, whether there is hope, whether they will be okay, or make promises or commitments.

In my own, perhaps very blunt way, I do not care. I do not care if they stay together or not, because it is not my life. I do not have to save them. I do not have to fix them. But while they are there, I work towards shifting what happens between them, in the moment.

Irreverence also extends to my own reactions. The therapist’s blueprint is active in the room. I will resonate, react, prefer, or feel pulled toward one explanation. The point is not to have no response. The point is to remain irreverent toward my own certainty, especially when one account feels obviously correct or one partner feels obviously difficult.

In this sense, irreverence protects the therapist from confusing resonance with accuracy. A strong response in the room may be clinically useful, but it is not automatically true. It has to be treated as information, not evidence. Otherwise the therapist’s reaction becomes part of the pattern rather than something that can be used to understand it.

Irreverence protects the therapist from becoming too convinced of their own way of working, their own frameworks, and their own interpretations. It requires the therapist to keep questioning their assumptions and remain cautious of their own explanations.

Theories, models, and formulations are useful, but only as tools. The moment they become fixed lenses through which everything is interpreted, the therapist has already lost flexibility.

And this is why irreverence also extends to not becoming a follower of one way of working, of any approach, including my own. Irreverence towards our own models, irrespective of whether or not there is an evidence-based and extensive literature behind them, keeps us open to noticing when we need to change how we think and act in the room.

Irreverence keeps the therapist flexible. It keeps the therapist able to shift, adjust, and change direction as the interaction unfolds. It prevents the therapist from becoming loyal to an explanation instead of remaining responsive to what is actually happening in the room.

Couple therapy can be structured, but it cannot be rigid. Structure provides orientation and focus, but irreverence ensures that the therapist remains within their scope and role, that they maintain the capacity to be dispassionate enough to intervene, and that they remain aware and connected with when, not if, their own blueprint starts to become too active.

And this is why irreverence is not a theoretical idea, but an active stance, consistently maintained to ensure that the therapist retains the ability to be a catalyst for change.