Asking the Impossible/The Impossible Ask

Asking the Impossible: The Paradox at the Heart of Psychotherapy

Psychotherapy is, at its core, a practice of "asking the impossible." This paradox reveals itself in two profound ways, both of which illuminate the tension between the humanistic foundations of care and the anti-humanist insights that often inform our understanding of the psyche.

The Impossible Ask: Anti-Humanist Scholars and Humanistic Foundations

One way this paradox emerges is in my work editing The Undecidable Unconscious, a journal that brings together scholars who often align with anti-humanist traditions such as deconstruction, psychoanalysis, and philosophy. These contributors, brilliant as they are, frequently wrestle with critiques of humanism—deconstructing the metaphysical assumptions of individuality, agency, and subjectivity. And yet, in 2014, I asked them to take into account the very humanistic foundation upon which psychotherapy rests.

Psychotherapy, as Kohut’s revolutionary work reminds us, is built on the essential human need for connection, empathy, and what he termed narcissistic idealizations. Kohut overturned the traditional view that idealization is merely pathological by demonstrating its dual nature: while these idealizations are often the foundation of illness, they are also essential to health. Healthy narcissistic idealizations form the basis of trust, love, and aspiration, creating the scaffolding upon which relationships—and selfhood—are built.

Empathy, too, stands at the heart of psychotherapy. Kohut argued that empathy is not just a tool of therapeutic technique but the foundation of all therapeutic action. This insight resonates with attachment theory’s focus on mentalization, the ability of a caregiver (or therapist) to understand and reflect the emotional experience of the child (or patient). This essential skill, modeled by a good-enough parent, creates the conditions for a child to develop a coherent sense of self.

When a therapist models this kind of empathy, the patient experiences a connection they may never have received from their own caregivers—those narcissistic parents who failed to see their child as anything other than an extension of their own needs. In this sense, I’m asking my anti-humanist contributors to grapple with a challenging contradiction: to engage with the deeply humanistic principles of empathy, connection, and care, even as they critique the metaphysical assumptions of humanism. It is, admittedly, an impossible ask.

The Impossible Ask: The Therapeutic Contract

The second way "asking the impossible" manifests is in the very structure of the therapeutic encounter itself. When a patient begins therapy, they bring with them symptoms that are, in essence, unconscious expressions of an impossible ask. These symptoms are the patient’s way of demanding therapy, even if they are simultaneously the source of suffering and resistance.

In this way, the therapeutic contract is inherently paradoxical. It is not just a contract between the therapist and the rational "I" of the patient; it is a contract between the therapist and the patient’s unconscious—the swirling, fantasy-riddled realm of desire, fear, and defense. When a patient asks a therapist to help them "get beyond" their symptoms, they are making an impossible ask: to transform patterns of thought and behavior so deeply ingrained that they feel like the bedrock of their identity.

Yet, this impossible ask is precisely what makes therapy so vital. Through the therapist’s modeling of empathy and mentalization, the patient learns to do for themselves what their caregivers could not: to reflect, to connect, to feel seen, and, ultimately, to heal. The therapist’s job is not to "fix" the patient’s symptoms but to help them navigate the difficult, often contradictory path toward self-understanding and relational health.

The Beauty of the Impossible

Psychotherapy thrives in this space of impossibility. It is not about delivering easy answers or quick fixes. It is about the painstaking work of transforming the foundations of suffering into a capacity for connection, growth, and well-being.

Similarly, asking anti-humanist scholars to engage with humanistic foundations is an invitation to hold the tension between critique and care, between deconstruction and the deeply human need for empathy and connection. Both cases demand that we sit with the contradictions, that we embrace the paradox, and that we commit to asking—and answering—the impossible.

This is why psychological health, as I explore in Psychological Health for Beginners, is always a journey of "beginner's mind." It requires us to approach the impossible with curiosity, humility, and openness—to begin again and again, even when the destination feels beyond reach. Because in asking the impossible, we come closer to the truths of ourselves and the connections that make us whole.