Why ICF left me
- Andrew Maho
- 9 févr.
- 6 min de lecture
When “knowledge” invites itself into the session
As it has done regularly since its creation, the International Coaching Federation (ICF) updated its core competencies in 2025. A true guide to the development of the profession, this framework guides the practices of schools as much as it defines a benchmark of excellence for practitioners. It also offers a concrete representation of what coaching is supposed to be and how it should be embodied.
In other words, Core Competencies are important.
This process of regular updating reflects the federation's commitment to never resting on its laurels, challenging its own foundations without dogmatism, and remaining attentive to developments in the profession. And I am grateful to them for this.
However, a recent change has caught the attention of the school director community: sub-competency 7.11, previously worded as “Shares observations, insights and feelings, without attachment...” has become “Shares observations, knowledge, and feelings...”.
This caused quite a stir within the community: could this be a shift towards consulting? The debate took on such proportions that the ICF published a white paper to reassure coaches.
What does this white paper say?
ICF's answer to the controversy
From what I understand, ICF's argument is based on two pillars:
The actual evolution of the practice: field analyses show that knowledge sharing is already commonplace, as evidenced by the specializations that have flourished in recent years (leadership, well-being, executive, etc.). This evolution can mainly be explained by coaches' desire to remain focused on their clients' needs by responding to their specific requests for expertise, rather than limiting themselves to a rigid definition of the profession that consists solely of listening and questioning. For the ICF, coaching has changed and become more mature, and the standards simply reflect this.
Preserving integrity through safeguards: to avoid any ethical slippage, ICF insists that sharing information must be done while preserving the client's autonomy. The information provided by the coach should simply be “put on the table,” leaving the client free to take it or leave it, with a sincere preliminary question such as “would you like to hear something that might help you?” Curiosity, openness, and a lack of expectations toward the client must therefore remain the norm in order to allow for any sharing.
At first glance, everything seems to be going well, and those who express disagreement simply don't understand.
But I believe that it is precisely because I understand the nature of this change all too well that I am deeply shocked.
Why?
Expertise: an ethical compromise to the detriment of the client
1- ICF's ethical resignation
The ICF starts with a descriptive analysis (“coaches do it”) to justify a normative rule (“coaches must be able to do it”). So instead of correcting the problem, the ICF institutionalizes it! It's as stupid as saying, “Because sexual violence is commonplace, let's legalize it.”
This approach is simply a victory for mediocrity by consensus. By validating a practice on the pretext that it is widespread, the ICF no longer regulates the profession, it follows it, validating the inability of many practitioners to maintain a position of not knowing.
This approach falls squarely within the Overton window, which the ICF blindly expands at regular intervals without even realizing it.
2- The illusion of autonomy
But perhaps I jumped to conclusions: if the update process is not the right one, does that mean that the change is not a good thing? After all, practical experience in the field could reflect a desirable change in the profession.
To answer this question, let's look at the examples of “knowledge” cited by the ICF: the Thomas-Kilmann model for conflict resolution, rituals for recovering from stress, mindfulness breathing techniques, the concept of SMART goals... This knowledge is nothing more than... tools! By offering them, the implicit message is devastating for the client, validating one of their fundamental limiting beliefs: “I am not good enough, the answer lies outside of me.” The coach thus implicitly reinforces the idea that the client lacks resources and may need external support, sabotaging the very goal of coaching: to restore their confidence in their own judgment.
For the ICF, the client is autonomous because they can do whatever they want with it. But that is the autonomy of the poor, not that of Carl Rogers, whose philosophy permeates the entire coaching process. The proof: if the tool works, success is attributed to the tool (dependence); if it fails, the client risks attributing the failure to themselves (guilt). In both cases, the sense of self-efficacy is damaged, even though this should be the main, if not the only, objective of coaching.
3- The illusion of neutrality
Does the mindset recommended by the ICF when a coach shares their knowledge at least help to cancel out or limit the harmful effects?
Well... not at all.
The idea that we can put “neutral” knowledge on the table that can be transferred from a knowledgeable person to a novice is part of what is known as positivist epistemology. Personally, when I coach, my epistemology is constructivist: I believe that objective reality is not accessible to me and that everything is a construct, everything is just a “worldview” and subjectivity.
The danger of positivism is that by introducing “knowledge,” the coach imposes their own map of the world. They no longer co-construct, but unwittingly colonize the client's mental space with prefabricated models that are often reassuring but limiting. Even if they distance themselves from this sharing, the client receives a proposal that aims to fit their complex experience into a semantic box, at the risk of rigidifying their thinking.
As for the client's freedom to refuse, it is illusory. In a relationship perceived by the client (whether we like it or not) as asymmetrical, they will almost always say yes to a proposal for sharing, the implication of which will necessarily be “I have something that could be the solution, do you want it?” Why refuse? It is an invitation to the client to relinquish responsibility, and they will be delighted to do so!
My proposal: rehabilitate the insight and radicalism of not knowing
Of course, coaches must know how to move beyond simply adopting the posture of a benevolent sphinx. I also believe that imposing our way of working and our belief that clients have the answers within them, even when they think exactly the opposite, is not client-centered. Paradoxically, it is a high-handed approach to “force” a low-handed posture. I would even go so far as to say that when coaches have a certain conception of knowledge, it becomes possible and even useful to share it.
But not by settling for the cardboard safeguards offered by the ICF, nor by giving in to the high-handedness of expertise, even if it is done politely.
I therefore propose a return to the term “insight” which, although imperfect, acknowledges the subjectivity of the contribution, in line with constructivist epistemology.
Then, when a client asks me for advice, I don't say “here's the solution” or “the coach doesn't give advice.” Both are inappropriate. But because I have worked on myself, I have a genuine conviction that their situation is unique and that none of my expertise will be of much help to them. However, I want the client to perceive this uniqueness, and I sometimes find myself responding with something like, “I may have some advice to give you, but I need to ask you a few questions first, because it depends a lot on the person...” (And usually, they no longer need advice after my questions).
Of course, due to temporary incompetence, I have shared tools on occasion. Because I felt stuck, because no questions came to mind, because I was afraid of failure... But I didn't hide behind my little finger: it was training, not coaching. And each time, I sought supervision, because although I may have solved a problem, I knew that I had failed in my duty to increase my client's autonomy.
Conclusion
By pulling their “knowledge” out of their pocket, coaches send a meta-message: “You're right not to trust yourself; you lack knowledge, and I may have some for you.” The power of the subject is replaced by the relevance of the object.
If we accept this, we are no longer coaches, but benevolent consultants. And let's be clear: when it comes to sharing knowledge without attachment, artificial intelligence will soon do it much better than we can. What we have left is our ability to believe unconditionally that the client does not need any of our models to save themselves.
Also, because I no longer recognize myself in this path, I have requested the withdrawal of my PCC certification. It is not me who is leaving the ICF, it is they who have left me.
Those who still doubt the futility of the federation's position can download their white paper here: