Every therapist knows the feeling of a well-placed, reflective question falling flat. I might ask “What do you think that feeling is about?” as a way of trying to guide a patient toward the deep and unknown connections driving their emotional life — and instead receive a lengthy story about the events leading up to the feeling. Or an intellectual explanation of how the feeling connects with their interpretation of events. If the patient is fairly concrete or disconnected from emotion, they may shut down the inquiry with a simple “I don’t know.” Or, worst of all, the question may come off as a criticism, as though I were asking “Why do you feel that way?”
As I argued in How to Succeed or Fail as a Psychotherapist, the foundation of all effective therapy work is the mentalizing stance. But how do we invite our patients to join us in a reflective mode, when our questions about meaning fall flat?
Mentalizing Questions and Failures
- “What’s that about?”
- “What could that mean?”
- “Where do you think that comes from?”
- “How do you make sense of that?”
When these questions don’t have the desired effect, it’s easy for our own mentalizing mode to fail:
We might fall into a teleological mode, trying to force a change by “challenging” their thoughts.
Or slip into a pretend mode, offering detached “interpretations” of their responses.
Or, becoming lost (“embedded”) in the story they tell, we might fall into psychic equivalence, treating their memory of an event as if it were the main event, instead of the living relationship happening in the room.
Here’s an alternative: what if instead of asking for reflection on meaning, we instead ask for reflection on function? Questions like…
- “How does that work?”
- “How is it that you come to feel that way?”
- “What do you think might be driving that?”
- “Do you have a sense for why that’s needed?”
- “What purpose could that be serving?”
- “What do you think that might be doing for you?”
And, of course, ‘wondering aloud’ reflections tend to be better than questions. They soften the inquiry, reduce the demand for a specific answer, and model a curious, non-judgmental stance. This approach invites collaboration rather than positioning you as the expert who requires an answer. So let’s brainstorm some, with an eye on staying grounded in the moment…
- “I wonder what keeps you from wanting to stay with that.”
- “I’m curious about what might be driving that impulse for you now.”
- “I wonder if there’s something we’re not paying attention to right now.”
These get us closer, moving away from the demand of a direct question. But they remain a bit ambiguous, still kind of vaguely pointing toward meaning. They don’t anchor the inquiry in function, so it would be easy for the focus to remain on the content of what’s being discussed rather than the process of discussing it.
The key, I’m beginning to think, isn’t just to wonder aloud, but to build the query about function directly into the reflection itself. To wonder not just what, but what for. Like this:
- “I notice a shift in your thought process here, I wonder what that’s for.”
- “It’s almost like your mind tries to prevent us from getting close to something here.”
- “Maybe there’s something that feeling wants to protect you from.”
- “I’m curious how that might be useful.”
These are much closer to functional reflections, I think. So the principle is that in order to reflect on function, we have to keep in mind what sorts of functions an unconscious process could actually accomplish. Things like self-protection, prevention of harm, or fulfilling a need.
Core Constructs for Mentalizing About Function
The general formula is: [Curious Opener] + [The Process] + [The Functional Query]
But to make it pithy, we often combine these into a single, fluid phrase.
1. The “Work/Job” Construct
This frames the mental process as an active, purposeful agent.
- “I wonder about the work of that feeling.”
- “I’m curious what its job is.” (when “it” is clear from context)
- “I wonder what that part of you is doing for you.”
2. The “Protective” Construct
This directly hypothesizes a self-preservation function.
- “I wonder what that’s protecting.”
- “I wonder who (or what) that’s defending.”
- “I’m curious what that keeps safe.”
3. The “Preventative” Construct
This focuses on what the process is trying to stop from happening.
- “I wonder what that’s trying to prevent.”
- “I’m curious what that helps you avoid.”
- “I wonder what it stops.”
4. The “Need-Based” Construct
This goes to the core motivation or perceived necessity of the process.
- “I wonder about the need for that.”
- “I’m curious why that’s necessary right now.”
- “I wonder what requires that.”
5. The “Generative/Achieving” Construct
This explores what the process creates or makes possible.
- “I wonder what that achieves.”
- “I’m curious what that makes possible.”
- “I wonder what that creates for you.”
6. The “Helpful/Useful” Construct
A softer, more general version that invites reflection on utility.
- “I wonder how that helps.”
- “I’m curious how that might be useful.”
- “I wonder what’s helpful about that.”
These constructs act as a kind of shorthand. In a session, when you notice a patient’s self-criticism flaring up, you can mentally access the “Protective” construct and say, “I wonder what that criticism is trying to protect you from.” If they shift to intellectualization, you might use the “Work/Job” construct: “I’m curious about the work that part of your mind is doing right now.”
Ultimately, these constructs are not scripts, just tools for engaging the client in curious reflection on their own mind. We have to take for granted the idea that the patient’s mind will be working in ways they’re not conscious of, and that we’ll have to be explicit about what we’re reflecting on if we want to show them how it’s done.
The first job of building reflective function isn’t just to reflect, but to discover that reflection is even necessary or possible. So, by helping a patient start to wonder about the job of their anxiety, or the protective function of their anger, we help them see that their anger and anxiety are unconscious phenomena: they are motivated by something, but we don’t know what. Recognizing the unconscious nature of mental phenomena also serves to de-identify, or dis-embed us from the phenomenon. Not “I’m anxious,” but “anxiety is coming up for me.” Not “I’m angry,” but “I’ve become aware of feeling angry.” This is the reflective stance toward experience.