Supervision has been one of the greatest privileges of my professional life, and if I’m honest, one of the most frustrating parts of leading training as well.
I wrote a blog about it which you can find here: What Supervision has given me
On its best days, supervision is where the work really happens. It’s where practitioners bring the parts they’re unsure about, the bits they don’t say out loud in the therapy room, the ethical tensions, the relational pulls, the “I don’t quite know what I’m doing here” moments. It’s thoughtful, it’s relational, and when it’s done well, it holds both the client and the counsellor in mind in a way that nothing else quite does.
There is something genuinely powerful about sitting alongside another practitioner and thinking together. Not directing, not fixing, not instructing, but engaging in a process that deepens awareness, sharpens ethical thinking, and strengthens practice. Good supervision doesn’t just support the counsellor, it protects the client and sustains the profession.
And then… there’s the other side of it.
Because somewhere along the way, something has started to shift, and not always in a helpful direction.
I’m seeing more and more of what I can only describe as a drift away from the foundations. Supervision being squeezed into 45 minutes a fortnight as though it’s a diary inconvenience rather than a professional requirement. The long-established ethical expectation of 90 minutes at a time a month quietly disappearing, as if it was optional rather than grounded in safeguarding, ethical oversight, and good practice.
Now, let’s be clear, this isn’t about rigidly policing time for the sake of it. It’s about understanding why that time exists in the first place. Supervision isn’t just a check-in. It isn’t a quick “everything okay?” before moving on. It requires space to think, to reflect, to notice patterns, to sit with uncertainty. You cannot meaningfully do that if you’re watching the clock and trying to squeeze complex clinical and ethical work into a shortened slot.
And the impact of that shows up, particularly with trainees.
Working with trainees is different. It carries a different level of responsibility. Trainees are still developing their clinical judgement, still learning how to hold boundaries, still finding their way ethically and relationally. Supervision, in that context, is not just supportive, it is formative.
Which means supervisors are not just there as a sounding board. They are part of the system that upholds safe, ethical practice.
That doesn’t mean supervisors are responsible for the counsellor or their client work, but they are absolutely responsible to the profession. To the ethical frameworks that guide us, whether that’s NCPS or BACP, and to modelling what good, accountable practice actually looks like.
And this is where I think some of the tension sits.
Because when supervision becomes rushed, or diluted, or treated as something to “fit in,” that shared responsibility can quietly erode. It becomes easier to miss things. Easier to skim over ethical considerations. Easier for trainees to believe that “good enough” is actually good practice.
From a training perspective, that’s where the frustration comes in.
Because we can teach theory, we can explore ethics, we can assess competence, but supervision is where those things are lived out in real time. As a training provider we rely on the supervisers to support this and balance that with the creation of that counsellor's inner supervisor. If that space isn’t robust, if it isn’t held with the depth it requires, then we are asking trainees to carry something that isn’t being consistently reinforced in practice.
And that’s not fair on them. Or their clients.
None of this is about criticising supervisors. The reality is that many are working under pressure, managing full caseloads, balancing multiple roles, and trying to be accessible and flexible in a profession that often undervalues its own time.
But flexibility shouldn’t come at the cost of safety. And it shouldn’t come at the cost of clarity about what supervision is actually for.
Because when supervision is done well, it is one of the most effective forms of professional support we have. It reduces isolation, strengthens decision-making, supports ethical accountability, and yes, it plays a role in preventing burnout and attrition within the profession.
When it’s done poorly, or minimally, the opposite can happen. Practitioners feel unsupported, unsure, and sometimes exposed. Ethical issues can go unchallenged. Confidence can become either fragile or falsely inflated. And over time, that takes a toll, not just on individuals, but on the profession as a whole.
So maybe this is the real question worth asking.
Not “how little supervision can we get away with?” But “what does good supervision actually require of us?”
Time is part of that. Clarity of purpose is part of that. Understanding our role within it is part of that.
And perhaps most importantly, a willingness to treat supervision not as an administrative task, but as a central, ethical commitment to the work we do.
Because when we get supervision right, everything else stands on firmer ground.
If this has got you thinking about your own supervisionm we've explored this further ove on the blog, looking at what good supervision actually requires in practice and how it supports ethical, sustainable work.
You can read that here: Supervision: Why It Matters More Than We’re Saying Out Loud