Choosing a therapist has never been easy. Credentials and licenses tell you only so much. Beyond degrees and diplomas, every therapist brings a personal history – their own upbringing, worldview, biases, and blind spots.
The best therapists acknowledge this. They work hard to separate their own feelings and politics from the work they do with people who come to them in pain, searching for relief or clarity.
Good therapy depends on empathy, curiosity, and professional humility. A therapist’s job is to understand the world through your eyes, not to convince you to see it through theirs. To stay sharp, ethical therapists participate in peer supervision or ongoing consultation – reality checks to ensure they’re serving their clients, not their egos or ideologies.
But lately, for many Jewish patients, that professional boundary has begun to blur, sometimes alarmingly so.
When therapy turns political
Jonathan Alpert, a Manhattan psychotherapist writing in The Wall Street Journal, recently described a troubling trend: colleagues who not only fail to keep politics out of the therapy room but actively promote political agendas under the guise of “treatment.” One Asian American woman told him her previous therapist kept steering every session toward race and politics, when all she wanted was help managing stress at work.
In an age when nearly everything feels politicized, from the brands we buy to the words we use, therapy was supposed to be a refuge. Increasingly, it isn’t.
A Jewish double burden
For Jewish patients, the danger runs deeper. Antisemitism has found new life even in professional circles once considered enlightened. Within the American Psychological Association, the problem became so pronounced that a group of members formed an organization called Psychologists Against Antisemitism. Its purpose: to expose and confront anti-Jewish bias within the very institutions meant to uphold ethical standards.
Its findings are chilling. The group documented official statements, conference presentations, and leadership communications that rationalized violence against Jews and Israelis or minimized Jewish victimization. In one especially egregious case, the president of the APA’s Society for Psychoanalysis and Psychoanalytic Psychology publicly described belief in Israel’s right to exist as a “psychosis.” She remained in her position for two years.
That’s not just a lapse in judgment; it’s a moral failure – and one that reveals how deeply politics has infected parts of the profession.
If this is happening at the top of the field, what does it mean for the individual Jewish patient who walks into a therapist’s office seeking help with grief, trauma, or anxiety?
Sharing the hostility
Many Jewish therapists themselves have felt the sting. In Psychotherapy Networker, a respected professional magazine, four psychotherapists recently wrote a moving essay titled “Antisemitism and the Trauma of Invalidation: Revealing the Wound Beneath the Wound.” They described their personal experiences of alienation and betrayal within the mental health community – colleagues suddenly viewing them as suspect, complicit, or privileged because of their Jewish identity.
Therapists are human, too. They need safe spaces to discuss their own fears, grief, and identity. But when the professional environment itself turns hostile, the damage runs both ways: to practitioners and to the people they treat.
Erosion of trust
Across America, trust – in institutions, media, and even one another – is at a historic low. Polarization has seeped into every corner of public life, accelerated by social media echo chambers and identity-driven activism. When nearly every issue becomes moralized, people look for a place where they can speak honestly, without fear of judgment. Therapy should be that place.
But when politics crosses the threshold of the consulting room, therapy stops being therapy. A clinician who pushes an ideological agenda – left, right, or otherwise – abuses the power of the role. They replace empathy with indoctrination and curiosity with certainty. That’s not healing; it’s manipulation.
And for Jews, whose very identity has once again become a political litmus test, the risk is real. A patient shouldn’t have to wonder whether their therapist secretly thinks their people are oppressors or whether expressing concern for Israel will label them “colonialist.”
How to protect yourself
So what can you do if you’re looking for help and want to make sure your therapist’s politics won’t become your problem?
First, recognize that choosing a therapist is a collaboration, not a submission. You have every right to screen the person you’ll be trusting with your most private thoughts. I’ve always advised prospective patients to ask for a brief, no-charge phone call – 10 minutes is enough – before booking the first session.
Use that time wisely. Ask about their approach to your problem, their fees, and their philosophy of treatment. But today, you may need to go further. It’s perfectly appropriate to ask, “What role do you think politics should play in therapy?” and, if you’re Jewish, “How do you view Jews and Zionism?”
Yes, those questions may feel uncomfortable. But so is discovering mid-treatment that your therapist views your heritage or beliefs as a pathology.
If the therapist declines a short introductory call or seems defensive when you raise these questions, move on. A professional who can’t discuss boundaries and values calmly probably doesn’t have a healthy grasp of their own.
The heart of the matter
Therapy, at its best, is an act of trust. You bring your unfiltered self – your doubts, your fears, your hopes – to a stranger who promises to help you understand them. That trust requires safety. It requires knowing that the person across from you won’t try to reshape your identity to fit their worldview.
Jews in the Diaspora are navigating a moment of renewed vulnerability. Old prejudices have resurfaced in new language, often cloaked in the rhetoric of social justice. When such biases infiltrate the helping professions, the harm multiplies: it silences those who need help most.
A good therapist will recognize that. They’ll understand that identity – whether Jewish, Muslim, black, gay, or anything else – isn’t an ideology but a lived reality, worthy of respect and curiosity.
So yes, choosing a therapist is a tricky business. But with awareness, a few smart questions, and a clear sense of your own boundaries, you can still find what therapy is meant to offer: a place of honesty, reflection, and healing – not another battlefield in the culture wars.
The writer, who holds a PhD, is a psychologist with the Tikvah Helpline, a 24/7 emotional support line for olim and lone soldiers: (074) 775-1433. She also hosts a podcast, The Van Leer Institute Series on Ideas.