Midwife Final

Life coach as midwife: reﬂections on a Socratic metaphor
Joel N. Steinmetz*
Director, Philosophical Coaching, Novato, CA, USA
(Received 29 August 2011; ﬁnal version received 25 October 2011)
Philosophy is often considered to be abstract and not really applicable to actual
living. In this article, I suggest that there are similarities between the practice of
philosophy and coaching. In particular, they are both interested in the
transformative practice of helping people give birth to their true self. Socrates
famously used the metaphor of philosopher as midwife to help explain his
particularly unique approach to philosophy. He considered it his primary goal to
function as a midwife of the soul. There are several lessons that can be gleaned
from this metaphor that are equally applicable to coaching and philosophy. In
brief, the midwife metaphor provides a model of sorts for how coaches can lack
knowledge about the specifics of a client’s situation, and yet assist them in
becoming what they truly want to be.
Keywords: philosophy; Socrates; transformation; midwife; Socratic method;
inquiry
1. Introduction
To know how to question means to know how to wait, even a whole lifetime. But an age
which regards as real only what goes fast and can be clutched with both hands looks on
questioning as ‘remote from reality’ and as something which does not pay, whose
benefits cannot be numbered. But the essential is not number; the essential is the right
time, i.e. the right moment, and the right perseverance. (Heidegger, 1961, p. 172)
Philosophers have a reputation of being overly intellectual, excessively abstract
and rather detached from reality. This characterisation was well described in
Aristophanes’ classical comedy The Clouds in which philosophers were portrayed
as having their heads in the clouds, deceiving people with complicated arguments
and discussing frivolous matters. This caricature can be further bolstered by the
story of the ancient Greek philosopher Thales, who was so engrossed in observing
the movement of the stars that he fell into a well. A servant girl mocked him
saying, ‘he was eager to know the things in the sky, but that what was behind him
and just by his feet escaped his notice’ (Plato, Theaetetus, 174a). To some extent
the caricature points to actual deficiencies in how philosophy is practiced, but
there is a different story to be told as well Á one that highlights the importance of
philosophy for living a full and satisfying life.
As a philosopher-turned-coach, one of my earliest impressions of coaching was
the significant resemblance it had to the motivation, interests and methods of
*Email: Joel.Steinmetz@mac.com
Coaching: An International Journal of Theory, Research and Practice
2012, 1Á12, iFirst article
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classical philosophers. As we will see, this similarity can be shown in how
Socrates, arguably the most prominent of Greek philosophers, envisions his
philosophical practice. What is more, his view about philosophy has application to
the practice of coaching, broadly speaking. With the growing presence of coaching
both in business and in personal contexts there are increasing occasions for both
practitioners and clients to better understand what grounds coaching as a practice
as related to other practices, such as psychology, organisational development,
management theory, leadership theory and communication studies. Although he
does not mention philosophy specifically, David Drake suggests ‘there is a need at
this stage for the coaching community to articulate stronger connections among
these disciplines in order to solidify its theoretical foundation and create a more
robust platform for its future’ (2007, p. 283). If there is indeed some commonality
between philosophy and coaching, then coaching would have access to a
substantially rich philosophical heritage. Furthermore, awareness and integration
of that heritage would help the coaching community ‘solidify its theoretical
foundations’ and provide at least a platform for future practice. This article is an
attempt to begin that exploration by providing an example of how coaching
practice might benefit in breadth and depth from the work of philosophers. In
addition, it will serve as an invitation for others to explore further the possibility
of fruitful dialogue between philosophy and coaching, or alternatively to show
that it is a misguided project.1
2. The philosophical project
Philosophy is generally understood as the love of wisdom, and from its inception
the pursuit of philosophy was considered to be a valuable activity that led to life
enhancing, practical insights. For the ancient Greeks who are credited with giving
birth to the practice, philosophy was primarily a way of living or a way of being
in the world aimed at improving human existence. For instance, ancient
philosophers were centrally concerned with the question, ‘What is the good life
and how can I live it?’ The French philosopher Pierre Hadot summarised the
matter succinctly: ‘Such is the lesson of ancient philosophy: an invitation to each
human being to transform himself. Philosophy is a conversion, a transformation
of one’s way of being and living, and a quest for wisdom’ (1995, p. 275).
In much of contemporary culture, however, philosophy has been relegated to the
ivory towers of academia where people have endless discussions about minutia far
removed from the actual lives of those involved. In an important sense ancient
philosophers would not recognise the practice of philosophy as a mere academic
discipline. For them, the philosophical life was not a private matter for specialists
removed from the practicality of life, but rather a radical transformation of how
individuals exist in the world. In this way, philosophy fundamentally has a lived
dimension to it, including a particular transformational stance toward others. In
a similar way, it seems appropriate to think of coaching as an invitation to
transformation, and in this way philosophy and coaching share a common purpose,
vision and inspiration (see Griffiths, 2005; Hargrove, 2008). There are various ways
in which we might articulate the practice of living out philosophy’s invitation to
transformation, but for present purposes we will examine one of Socrates’ most
famous metaphors as a way of showing the transformative practice.
2 J. Steinmetz

3. The Socratic vision: philosopher as midwife
Socrates had a particularly unique way of thinking about how to help others along in
the transformative process that philosophy encapsulates. Socrates is rightly famous
for engaging people in philosophical dialogues Á a form of conversation centred on
asking, and responding to, insightful questions that lead the participants toward the
goal of discovery (see Haroutunian-Gordon, 1989). As Gregory Vlastov explains,
‘Socrates is not playing games . . . but is engaged in the most serious business of his
life, searching for the right way to live’ (1991, p. 139). Related to the method of
dialogue Socrates uses the metaphor of midwife to help explain his unusual
philosophic approach. We often use metaphors in coaching to inspire people to
take up new perspectives, and we can also understand the practice of coaching itself
in metaphoric terms. Given the commonalities between coaching and philosophy,
Socrates’ philosophical metaphor can be effectively appropriated by those who are
engaged in the practice of coaching.
To better understand Socrates’ view of philosophy, it will be helpful to briefly
provide an account of how he came to be thought of the wisest person in all of
Athens. As the story goes, Socrates’ lifelong friend Chaerophon visited the oracle at
Delphi through which the god Apollo was thought to speak.2
He inquired of the
oracle if anyone in Athens was wiser than Socrates. The oracle responded that indeed
there was no one wiser than Socrates. This response puzzled and troubled Socrates
when he heard of it because he did not think he possessed any knowledge, while
many others appeared to be full of understanding. As a way of testing the oracle,
Socrates began investigating those who claimed to be wise to show that he was not
the wisest in Athens. Through the process, he discovered that most people who
claim to be, or are thought to be, wise do not actually possess the understanding that
they think they do. It then dawned on him that the nature of his wisdom, as
suggested by the oracle, is that he understands how little he knows.
For Socrates, then, the beginning of wisdom consists in realising one’s own
ignorance.3
Socrates’ professed ignorance helps formulate his unique approach to
philosophy as being necessarily dependent on others. That is, the quest for wisdom
must involve dialoguing with others about important questions of living the good
life. Socrates takes this philosophy of education very seriously and quite literally. He
sees his task as philosopher and educator as an attempt to ‘educe’ (draw out)
knowledge from others, rather than impart or fill up Á hints of philosophical
midwifery (see Calhoun, 1996; Hansen, 1988).
With this context in mind, we can now turn to a discussion of a metaphor as it is
meant to encompass some aspects of this philosophical task. In this famous passage
from Plato’s dialogue Theaetetus, Socrates describes himself as a midwife that helps
others give birth to knowledge or understanding.4
As Socrates explains:
Well, my art of midwifery is in most respects like theirs [real midwives]; but differs, in
that I attend men and not women; and look after their souls when they are in labour,
and not after their bodies: and the triumph of my art is in thoroughly examining
whether the thought which the mind of the young man brings forth is a false idol or a
noble and true birth. And like the midwives, I am barren, and the reproach which is
often made against me, that I ask questions of others and have not the wit to answer
them myself, is very just*the reason is, that the god compels me to be a midwife, but
does not allow me to bring forth. And therefore I am not myself at all wise, nor have I
anything to show which is the invention or birth of my own soul, but those who converse
Coaching: An International Journal of Theory, Research and Practice 3

with me profit. Some of them appear dull enough at first, but afterwards, as our
acquaintance ripens, if the god is gracious to them, they all make astonishing progress;
and this in the opinion of others as well as in their own. It is quite clear that they never
learned anything from me; the many fine discoveries to which they cling are of their own
making. But to me and the god they owe their delivery. (Plato, Theaetetus, 150bÁ151d)
As mentioned above, philosophy is principally aimed at taking on a new way of
existing in the world. In this way, it is a holistic approach that encompasses all
aspects of the human person Á both being and doing. Similarly, in coaching there is a
focus on becoming the true self, or best self, which is meant to encompass every
aspect of a person.5
For the sake of this metaphor, then, Socrates as philosophical
midwife can be understood as assisting others in giving birth to their true self.
4. Life coach as midwife
There is much that is of interest in this metaphor, and in particular there are four
interrelated points of similarity between Socrates’ view of philosophy and the
practice of coaching. First, Socrates admits that he is barren with respect to
knowledge or understanding for others. The midwife is also empty in regard to what
is being birthed in the client. A midwife, for instance, does not produce a child, and
modern medicine aside it is impossible for the midwife to bring a child into existence
for, or in, another. Likewise, the coach does not produce the true self for, or in, the
client, and in fact it is impossible for a coach to do so. Like Socrates, coaches do not
know the solution or best path for clients, but rather clients are pregnant with that
understanding and action for themselves. The metaphor of midwife highlights the
fact that transformation comes from within the client, and the client is the one who
gives birth to the true self. As a result, coaches who think they know more than they
do construct a very real barrier to growth for both coach and client.
There are at least two respects in which the coach is barren in regard to
knowledge for the client: what specifically needs to be done in the present context,
and what should be the outcome of the overall transformational process. As an
example of the former, a client may be considering specific ways in which she can
practice being more authentic at work. In this case, the coach may have all kinds of
suggestions, but brainstorming is very different than claiming to know what the
client should actually do, who she should be, or what ‘authentic at work’ even means.
All of these aspects have to be drawn out of the client, as they are not known in any
other way. In regard to the bigger picture of growth and change that is going on in
the client, the outcome of that transformation is by its very nature not knowable
from the current perspective by either client or coach. Admittedly, there is something
deeply puzzling, perhaps troubling, going on here. As Rebecca Solnit puts it, ‘The
things we want are transformative, and we don’t know or only think we know what is
on the other side of that transformation. . .how do you go about finding these things
that are in some ways about extending the boundaries of the self into unknown
territory, about becoming someone else?’ (2006, p. 5). We will discuss below just how
far we might be able to take this point about barrenness, but for now we can see that
becoming a Socratic midwife involves a radical acceptance of not knowing.
Second, while Socrates does not claim to have knowledge for others, he does have
understanding about himself, even if that understanding is merely of his own
4 J. Steinmetz

ignorance. On Socrates’ view, it is difficult to be a good midwife unless one has
undergone the experience of giving birth (Plato, Theaetetus, 149c). In becoming a
philosopher Socrates has transformed his way of existing in the world by coming to
rightly know who he truly is. A coach must also have experienced, and continue to
experience, the giving birth of the true self. Without that kind of experience it is
difficult to assist another in the process of personal growth. For Socrates the process
of becoming a philosopher is a lifelong journey. It does not happen to you by
enrolling in some course of study, but rather happens in you as you continually take
up the pursuit of wisdom, which in the end is a journey of self-understanding. The
same observation would apply to coaching, that is, the commitment to lifelong self-
understanding is necessary for transformative practice with others. In this way, it is
not enough merely to be trained or even certified in coaching, but rather one must be
consistently engaged in the ongoing journey of life change.
The third point that the metaphor highlights is that people are in fact pregnant
with their true self. For Socrates, everyone is a philosopher in waiting, and they have
the potential and buried desire to become a lover of wisdom. Likewise, coaches can
expect that people are pregnant with their true self Á whether they realise it or not.
Socrates mentions elsewhere that the midwife is in the best position to know who is
pregnant (Plato, Theaetetus, 149b). Along similar lines, although people may be in
different phases of pregnancy, coaches are in a position to see how the process is
moving along. Taking this point seriously means coaches can be open to, and
listening for, where people are in the process of giving birth.6
Of course, coaches can
also be sensitive to the lack of interest in, or complete resistance to, the idea that
people may be pregnant with their true self. Pregnancy may not be exciting news for
everyone who understands that reality, and so there may be significant opposition to
what sounds like an unwanted or unexpected birth announcement.
Getting a person engaged in that journey of self-discovery involves asking open
and stimulating questions. In his philosophical conversations, Socrates does not
spend a lot of time presenting ‘facts’, but rather he is most famous for asking
perplexing questions. Socrates was incredibly curious about anything, everything and
everyone. Provocative questions and intentional curiosity can become labour
inducing for others in order that they might give birth to knowledge and
understanding. In fact, ‘curiosity may be the quality that starts the process and
the energy that keeps it going. The most effective coaches seem to be naturally
curious and to have developed their curiosity in a way that opens doors and window
for clients’ (Whitworth, Kimsey-House, Kimsey-House, & Sandahl, 2007, p. 69).
Thus, although coaches are barren in regard to the specifics of the client’s situation,
they can be resourceful in regard to curiosity. That is, coaches can become skilled at
asking powerful questions, and at seeing connections between statements that clients
make, which can be pursued with additional questions to further the client’s process
of self-discovery and bring awareness of new possibilities.
It is important to keep in mind that any one conversation is only part of the
delivery process. Even at the end of a Socratic dialogue the conversation is not over,
or completely resolved. There is always more to say, and there is often work to be
done by clients as they reflect on what has been said. As you read the Socratic
dialogues, you might notice at several points that Socrates gets stuck in asking
questions, that is, he asks questions that his interlocutors do not understand or with
which they do not find resonance. In fact, the very reason Socrates mentions the

midwife metaphor is to help alleviate Theaetetus’ confusion in regard to answering
particular questions. In good coaching fashion, Socrates is constantly re-phrasing
questions and mirroring the answers of his conversational partners. A person skilled
at asking questions is able to listen for how they are received, understood and
processed. A midwife really must be paying attention during the entire process of
pregnancy, and attending to what is going on with the mother and child. Coaches
also must be attentive to the various shifts going on in a client and the true self by
noticing aspects such as: body language, tone of voice, speech patterns, emotions,
moods and moments of insight. While we may focus on the moment of giving birth,
the midwife has a significant role to play during the entire gestational journey.
Interestingly, because coaches are barren in regard to knowledge for the client,
they must ask questions to which they do not know the answers Á only the client
holds the answers. In this way, Socrates mentions that he asks questions of others
that he cannot himself answer, and those who do not understand the process by
which we give birth to the true self often mock him for doing so. Similarly, some will
regard the coaching process, as well as the goal of transformation, as frivolous and
lacking in results. As the epigraph from Heidegger points out, however, the process
of gestation and giving birth is more about the right time and the right perseverance
in waiting. It is tempting to think that we know how the transformative process
should go, and it can be easy to shift from participating in the process to scripting the
process. However, the element of surprise lies with the client, and these unexpected
possibilities keep curiosity aimed in the direction of what is happening in the client
rather than what the coach may want for the client. The client’s process of giving
birth is what motivates the curiosity Á the coaching is for the sake of the client’s
true self.
It is worth noticing at this point that the midwife metaphor highlights the
importance of cooperation and mutual trust on both sides (see Gyllensten & Palmer,
2007; Machin, 2010). The client and the coach both must take a kind of ownership
for what is happening, and show trust in the other. The client takes ownership for his
or her own growth, the honesty of the answers given and any actions that are seen as
important. The client trusts the coach with the most intimate of thoughts and
feelings. The coach trusts his or her intuition and attentiveness, the client, and the
process in which they are both involved. This mutuality of trust and respect sets up a
powerful relationship. Socrates himself understood what could happen within this
kind of relationship Á nothing short of personal transformation. The leaders of
Athens also noticed its power, and as result decided it was too great a risk to have
Socrates wandering the streets.7
We do not often think of coaching as a crime worthy
of execution, but even in contemporary culture there will be some who find it to be
an offensive, if not dangerous, practice.
For Socrates, the birthing of understanding in another was important both for
that person and for himself as well. That is, there was something true for Socrates in
what was revealed in the client. Socrates was seeking wisdom after all, and part of
that seeking was finding it in the way it was birthed in others. As a result, there was
something genuinely at stake for Socrates in whether others took up the
philosophical journey and experienced personal transformation, and it was more
than just a question of livelihood because he never charged for his practice. For
Socrates, giving birth to the true self was the essence of being alive for a human, and
the transformation is public, that is, others notice and are influenced by the change.
6 J. Steinmetz

So on the one hand personal transformation is internal to the client, and on the other
hand the effects spill out all over the place. We may wonder if in coaching it matters
to one’s own aliveness that there are others who are coming alive as well. That is, is
there something at stake for the coach in whether the client actually gives birth? Or to
put it another way, is there a shift in the coach’s way of being because the client shifts
her way of being? The reader can ponder various answers to these questions, but it
seems that giving birth to the true self would have far reaching effects on the broader
community in which a person lives. In addition, we could note the personal growth
that occurs in coaches from having attended numerous births.
Lastly, the metaphor of being a midwife reveals a difference between childbirth
and philosophy or coaching. Namely, midwives of the true self are required to
distinguish truth from falsity in the process of giving birth. Whereas in real childbirth
there are no counterfeit children, in coaching sometimes clients can give birth to a
false self instead of their true self. In this case, the coach as midwife is called upon to
distinguish the true from the false. At times this is done boldly and overtly; at other
times it is more as a subtle suggestion. In either case, the coach holds the client’s true
self as the real goal. The reaction of clients to the possibility of letting go of the false
self may be similar to the reaction people might have to the thought of losing their
newborn. Sometimes clients, and coaches, hold the false self very closely and feel
threatened when it is questioned. However, the insight remains that at times the
coach is called on to make the distinction for the sake of the client. The true/false
distinction, of course, is made relative to the client and not as some kind of absolute
statement. Once again Socrates can be our teacher here, as he consistently phrased
the distinction in terms of hypotheticals. For instance, ‘it seems to me from what you
have said. . .’ or ‘that seems to be in conflict with what you mentioned earlier. . .’.
When disclosed in this way, clients have the opportunity and motivation to have a
closer look for themselves.
The client is ultimately the only one who can judge the distinction as it is brought
out into the open and held up for closer view, as one might hold up a newborn for
parents to view. Perhaps this very image best articulates the role of the coach as the
client delivers. That is, we hold up the newborn in such a way as the client can have
an evaluative look. The emphasis is not just on the client giving birth, but rather
giving birth to the true self, or some aspect of the true self. The delivery itself
provides an opportunity for new openness and investigation on the part of the client.
This point relates to what we noted earlier about not knowing what is on the other
side of transformation. Upon delivery the client and coach now have the opportunity
to consider the veracity or authenticity of what was delivered. We may also want to
notice that even if the client delivers a version of the false self, the pains of labour
were not all in vain. That is, there is some benefit in having gone through the birthing
process.
5. Barrenness in coaching
As rich in content and insight as the midwife metaphor is we may have some
reluctance to accept it in its entirety. One primary concern is the idea that the coach
is barren in regard to knowledge for the client. There is little doubt that one of the
hallmarks of the coaching approach is that of empowering clients to know, decide
and act for themselves and in accordance with their own purposes, desires and goals.

In this sense coaching is largely a non-directive approach when it comes to defining
or determining specific outcomes, actions or goals for any particular client. That
being said, we may wonder whether there is not some expertise involved in this
process. That is, in getting to know particular clients, is it really true that the coach
must continually admit barrenness with regard to what is going on for the client?
To put the point another way, there may be a conflict between the first and
second points mentioned above. That is, Socrates mentions that midwifes should
have experience in giving birth, but what good would experience be except that it
yields some kind of relevant knowledge. In addition, it seems that in particular
circumstances a more directive approach actually would be required. For instance, in
situations where there is high risk, or perhaps risk of imminent physical or serious
emotional harm. In cases of this sort it would seem professionally irresponsible for a
coach to claim not to know what would be in a client’s best interest. Even borrowing
from the metaphor, a midwife would recognise when a pregnancy or delivery is in dire
need of immediate professional medical attention. In fact, it would seem that the
midwife’s expertise is precisely what allows for being so directive under particular
circumstances.
There is something compelling about this critique and in response I want to make
three brief comments. First, it is important to keep in mind that the midwife
metaphor on its own does not provide a complete picture of Socrates’ philosophical
activity. Metaphors by their very nature are incomplete, and are more suggestive
than definitive. Socrates did not embody the midwife metaphor on every occasion,
but that is part of what it means to be a skilled practitioner of an art Á to know how
best to act under any particular set of circumstances. Socrates clearly thinks that it is
important for the midwife to be a skilled practitioner in the art of midwifery.
Similarly, the coach is to be a skilled practitioner of coaching Á informed by
appropriate experience, able to embody particular sets of skills and equipped with a
wide repertoire of resources to fit various situations as they arises in the coaching
process. This kind of knowledge is what Greek philosophers called phronesis, and is
similar to what Donald Scho¨n calls reflection-in-action (see Scho¨n, 1983). It seems
apparent, then, that a coach should not be barren with regard to the knowledge that
constitutes coaching practice.8
Second, there is a real difference between a coach’s knowledge in the art of
coaching and knowledge for a client. Fundamentally, the Socratic point about
barrenness is that the coach’s supposed knowledge for clients is at best tangentially
related to the process of giving birth to knowledge going on in clients. Imagine, for
instance, that a coach ‘knows’ what a client should do in some situation: pick up the
phone and start that difficult conversation, quit that job, write that letter, or take that
solo vacation away from family and friends. Whatever it may be, once the coach
‘knows’ for the client she ceases being a midwife and become a marketer. The coach
now attempts to get the client to come to ‘know’ what she supposedly ‘knows’, either
by saying it directly or leading the client on some path to find it. And even if the
client comes to ‘know’ what the coach ‘knows’ the act of birthing is still the client’s
work and is categorically different than the coach’s ‘knowing’.9
Another way of thinking about this distinction between modes of knowing is by
noticing that the way a coach holds a question is very different than the way a client
is held by a question. A coach possesses questions and uses them as a kind of tool.
The client does not possess a question in that way, but rather is possessed by the
8 J. Steinmetz

question when it is of deep concern to them (see Douglas, 2005, p. 413; Walsh, 2005).
A simple and yet profound illustration of this point is to notice the shift that occurs
when you ask a question of a client, and when you are asked the same question of
your own life, for example, ‘what do you want?’ Depending on which side of the
question you are standing the experience is significantly different, and calls for a very
different kind of knowing. In the end, the coach’s knowledge for the client bears little
resemblance to the client’s knowledge for herself, even if the client comes to ‘know’
via the coach saying the ‘answer’.
For clients, transformational knowledge is not just about getting answers, but
about giving birth and living in a new way in those answers. As a result, the shift that
is of primary concern in coaching is one that cannot be given to clients as a kind
of commodity. That is, the benefits that clients most identify as the outcome of
coaching relationships, such as renewed confidence, clarity of desire, flexibility of
perspective and conscientious choice, have more to do with the coaching process
rather than any exchange of answers. As Peter Jackson points out, ‘These are not the
outcomes of simply gathering information or new techniques or of modeling other
people’s practice. It is the result of examining the foundations and assumptions of
their own practice, questioning what they hold to be true, and engaging with the
uncertainties of how we really know what we know’ (2008, p. 75). The barrenness of
the coach is precisely what allows these kinds of examinations to occur in a fruitful
way for the client.
Finally, instead of thinking of Socratic barrenness as a kind of emptiness or lack
of knowledge, one alternative way to think of it is in terms of coaching space or an
openness to the client. When a coach claims to be barren, the client is given a new
kind of space in which to show up. Borrowing from the psychoanalytic tradition, we
can think of this space as ‘the holding environment’, ‘the container’, or simply as a
quality of spaciousness (see Bion, 1962; Whitworth et al., 2007, pp. 20Á21;
Winnicott, 1965). In this way, the barrenness of the coach is not a deficiency, but
rather a new kind of fertile presence. It is interesting to note that Socrates claims that
midwives are also the best matchmakers (Plato, Theaetetus, 149d). That is, on
Socrates’ view midwives are similar to good farmers in that they not only know how
to harvest, but they also know the right soil conditions in which to plant. Similarly,
the spaciousness of the coaching relationship can be thought of in terms of creating
the best conditions in which a client can germinate and subsequently produce a
harvest Á giving birth to the true self. These comments just scratch the surface, as
there is much more that needs to be said in regard to ways in which barrenness might
show up in the practice of coaching. While there are many ways in which it seems
appropriate to describe the coach as barren, we have also seen ways in which the
metaphor needs to be nuanced in this regard.
6. Conclusion: coaching as a way of life
The midwife metaphor provides many useful aspects to play with that can broaden
and deepen the experience and practice of coaching. The practice of being a midwife
means taking a particular orientation toward others: one that is curious, watchful,
encouraging, hopeful and patient. Using the metaphor also opens up avenues for
discussion with those who are not familiar with coaching in general. In summary, the
midwife metaphor allows us to see how coaches can lack knowledge about clients

and their situations, and yet assist them in becoming their true selves. In this way,
coaches can better hold the integrity of clients when viewed as pregnant with their
true selves, and not as empty or in need of being fixed. The metaphor highlights the
power of insightful questions to induce labour and the resulting importance of
making the true/false distinction for the process of self-understanding. The midwife
metaphor points in the direction of understanding some important characteristics of
coaching work. Perhaps the most important is the joyful, life-affirming picture of
watching the true self show up in the world.
Along the same lines, there is more to say about the potential contribution
philosophy might make to coaching. Philosophers have long been interested in
understanding and articulating the complexities of human life including: happiness,
choice, desire, thought, love, belief, knowledge, meaning, value, work, education,
politics, experience, friendship and suffering. These aspects are also of great interest
in coaching as they relate to the transformational process of clients. As a result, there
is a vast reservoir of philosophical thought collected over centuries of human history
that is available to coaches. I suggest that drawing from such resources will prove to
be of significant value as the understanding of coaching is more carefully and
explicitly articulated and practiced. We noted at the outset that philosophy is
fundamentally a transformative way of living and only secondarily a subject matter.
It would seem that coaching shares this same aspect. Although coaches may be
engaged in more or less explicit coaching relationships, the transformative approach
is not one among many things that a coach does, but rather it is a way of being in
relation to self and others. In this way, coaching too is not primarily a subject matter
or career choice, but rather a way of life.10
Notes on contributor
Joel N. Steinmetz, PhD, is an independent scholar and director of
Philosophical Coaching. He engages individuals and communities in
a broadly philosophical approach to provide clarity, understanding,
insight, and alternative narratives in the service of creating a
meaningful life. Joel utilises his experience in teaching at the
university level to bring transformative depth to the learning process
for people in a wide variety of contexts. His current research and
writing interests include: the contribution that philosophers make to
coaching practices, narrative approaches to character and personal
development, and the influence that theories of truth have on
theories of coaching.
Notes
1. I am not suggesting that there are no differences between philosophy and coaching, or
between what has come to be called philosophical counselling and coaching. The point is
more about taking advantage of wisdom wherever it can be found, and understanding it in
relation to the speciﬁc practice of individual coaches.
2. The word ‘Delphi’ in Greek comes from delphys meaning womb. It would be worth
investigating this aspect as it relates to Socrates’ midwife metaphor, but we will save that
discussion for another time. See Plato (Apology, 21aÁe).
3. It is not clear how seriously we are to take Socrates’ claim that he is ignorant because at
times he comes across as knowing quite a lot. Nonetheless, realising one’s own ignorance
appears to be an important step in personal development.
10 J. Steinmetz

4. There is some debate as to whether the historical Socrates used this metaphor or whether
Plato invents it. I leave aside the historical and textual questions in favour of showing the
power of the metaphor regardless of origin. See Burnyeat (1977).
5. The search for the true self or higher self is an integral aspect of several coaching models,
see Bachkirova (2004). The true self is also of central importance in other disciplines, for
instance, Miller (1997).
6. According to Socrates, feelings of perplexity or confusion about some aspect of life are in
fact the pains of labour. Clients who have those very feelings are not empty, but rather
pregnant.
7. One of the accusations made against Socrates at his trial was that he was intentionally
corrupting the minds of the Athenian youth. See Plato (Apology, 24c).
8. David Drake maps out four areas of coaching knowledge that constitute coaching
mastery, see Drake (2009).
9. The main topic of Socrates’ discussion in the Theaetetus is centred on the question, what is
knowledge. It seems ﬁtting, then, that Socrates would claim to be barren with regard to
having an answer to that question.
10. I am grateful to Heather Mills for comments on and discussion of a previous draft of this
article. I would also like to thank the two anonymous referees for their valuable
comments, suggestions and insights.
References
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Burnyeat, M. (1977). Socratic midwifery, platonic inspiration. Bulletin of the Institute of
Classical Studies, 24, 7Á16.
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(pp. 49Á70). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic.
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12 J. Steinmetz

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