05/02/2026
Informed consent” is not “I inform and you consent.”
Consent isn’t a box we tick once we’ve explained something clearly enough. It’s not a speech we deliver, a form we sign, or a moment we move past. It’s a process; relational, ongoing, and deeply human.
Thoughtful consent means pacing. It means noticing when someone is overwhelmed, shut-down, anxious, or simply trying to be a “good client.” It means understanding that even the most beautifully explained rationale doesn’t automatically translate to genuine choice.
Because information given with someone present ≠ consent. Just because someone has heard it doesn't mean they agree with it.
We can explain what we’re recommending, why we think it’s helpful, and how it might work — and still miss whether the person in front of us actually feels able to say yes, no, or not yet.
High-consent practice asks us to slow down, to check in more than once, to invite questions and hesitation. It means normalising uncertainty and ambivalence and to explicitly say: “You don’t have to decide now,” and really mean it.
It also means remembering that consent can change over timr. A yes last week doesn’t guarantee a yes today. A yes to part of something doesn’t mean a yes to all of it. And silence, compliance, or lack of resistance is never the same as consent.
In therapeutic and healthcare spaces especially, power matters. Expertise, authority, systems, time pressure; all of these can make it harder for people to feel they can disagree or opt out. That’s not a personal failing. It’s the context. And it’s on us to account for it.
Real informed consent is collaborative. It’s iterative. It’s responsive. It’s less about getting agreement and more about supporting agency.
