There are people who come to therapy looking for tools to feel better, resolve deep-seated conflicts, or to receive guidance and comfort in times of turmoil. And then there are those who come to the psychologist’s office hoping there’s a crystal ball hidden somewhere.
Should I leave my partner?
Is it normal to hate my mother?
What career should I pursue?
The list of questions is as long and varied as there are people, but they all have one thing in common: they’re looking for someone to tell them what to do with their lives. I call this phenomenon the “oracle psychologist” syndrome.
Spoiler: therapy doesn’t work like that.
The temptation to let someone else think and decide for us
The figure of the “oracle psychologist” is not new. In the past, great kings and leaders consulted oracles, almost always represented in the figures of priests, sibyls, or pythonesses. Croesus, the king of Lydia, asked the oracle whether he should go to war against Cyrus the Great. And Alexander the Great consulted him during his conquest of Egypt.
Kant already warned in his famous essay “What is Enlightenment?”: most people prefer to remain intellectually minor, which means delegating the burden of thinking and deciding to others. Because thinking for oneself, the philosopher said, is uncomfortable. It involves taking risks, bearing the consequences of our choices, and abandoning the reassuring protection of someone who tells us what to do.
Autonomy and freedom do not always seduce, they often frighten, as Erich Fromm also warned in “The Fear of Freedom.”
Today, this temptation has multiplied. In a world where we’re sold instant solutions for almost everything, from apps that choose the perfect movie for you to lightning-fast home deliveries, it’s no surprise that many expect a psychologist to also tell them what to do, how to do it, and when to do it.
But systematically delegating our decisions comes at a price: it drains us of meaning. It turns us into passive consumers and spectators of our own story, waiting for someone else to repair our inner world. Thus, what seemed like relief turns into dependency.
Obviously, life is complex. Emotions hurt. Making decisions is risky. And deep thinking is tiring. Therefore, the temptation to delegate existential conflict to a professional is strong. Sometimes, out of pure emotional exhaustion. Other times, out of simple laziness.
The therapist doesn’t have a magic formula, but can help you in other ways
However, a psychologist will never tell you what you should do for a thousand different reasons. One of them is because everyone must make their own decisions and assume responsibility for their consequences. A psychologist can only accompany you on the journey and shed light, but they cannot take it for you.
A psychologist isn’t there to sort out your messes, but to help you make sense of them. They’re not going to tell you whether you need to separate, move, change careers, or stop talking to your Aunt Teresa. They’re going to help you understand why you’re considering this, what emotions lie behind it, what values are at stake, what options you’ve overlooked, and how to make a decision that’s more aligned with you.
It will help you understand why you repeat certain patterns or why you feel the way you do. It will be your companion as you explore your personal history and emotional wounds to help you listen and understand yourself better, without so much mental clutter.
The “magic” of therapy isn’t in the answers the psychologist gives, but in the questions he or she gets you to ask yourself. Questions that stir, and sometimes even make you uncomfortable, but they take you out of that passive position and force you to face reality.
The problem with turning your therapist into an oracle is that it takes away your power. It leaves you as a mere spectator of your life. And that, rather than healing, paralyzes you. Therapy isn’t there to tell you what to do, but to activate your inner resources and give you back the ability to choose and move forward.
Even if they don’t have a crystal ball, a psychologist can give you something very valuable: a space without judgment. A place where you can say what you don’t dare tell anyone, think out loud, cry without apology, and question yourself without fear. That, while it may seem like little, is a lot. Because sometimes, when you dare to speak, you find your own answers.
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