The clinical psychology student recited the facts of the case as if it were a formula. That’s what she had been trained to do, what her peers and professors expected. There was probably a time when this student wondered about the complex and human questions that might lead a person to the moment of diagnosis, but if those questions remained, they were hidden behind the unemotional, analytical veneer demanded by professionalism.

As David Goodman, a clinician who also serves as Executive Director and Dean of the Woods College of Advancing Studies at Boston College, listened to student after student present cases as if patients were scientific subjects, it solidified his conviction that clinical psychology desperately needs to recapture a sense of humanity and moral reckoning. His solution: interdisciplinary partnerships that unsettle disciplinary norms.

“The purpose of interdisciplinary work is to bring true ethical conversation into the mix in a transformative way,” Goodman says. “It’s not just about blending fields—it’s about unsettling each discipline’s certitude so that deeper moral questions can re-emerge.”

Goodman’s passion for this work began during his own training.

“As a doctoral student in clinical psychology, I grew increasingly concerned about what I perceived to be a moral anemia in the field—a paucity of language and conceptualization of human responsibility,” he said. “Psychology often asked, ‘How do I seek fulfillment or healing?’ but not, ‘How are we bound to one another as moral beings?’”

To restore moral reflection to the heart of psychological practice, Goodman has partnered with Matt Clemente, Director of Research & Curriculum and Assistant Professor of the Practice in the Department of Formative Education at Boston College. Together, they launched and lead the Center for Psychological Humanities & Ethics at Boston College.

“Encouraging people back into poetry and art and literature as a part of how they think with a patient or in these more scientific formulations really enriches our practice. It opens up new channels for practitioners to see the person in front of them as part of a larger human story that’s rich and complex,” Goodman said.

This outlook motivates learning groups offered by the Center, which blend close reading with conversation about clinical practice, inviting participants to see their work through new moral and imaginative lenses. 

“The participants are mostly practicing psychotherapists, and they’ll bring in their casework, saying things like, ‘This character in Dostoevsky is so much like someone I’m seeing right now.’ Then they start advising one another—reflecting together through the literature,” Clemente said. “When clinicians read these texts together, they begin to see how the humanities can illuminate real psychological life.”

Now when students present cases, Goodman will sometimes ask them to connect the case to a piece of literature, poetry, film, or history—linking a patient’s experience to perennial questions of human life. For many students, the exercise is painful at first, yet struggling through it ultimately strengthens their understanding and, hopefully, their future practice.

The value flows the other direction as well. Clemente helped design a creative writing master’s program offered through the Center that brings psychological traditions to the arts. 

“The best writing is derived from psychologically rich descriptions of life-like people and situations.” Goodman said. “Writers will really benefit from this program,” 

By bringing the humanities and psychology together, Goodman and Clemente are building more than a center—they are cultivating a community of inquiry that reminds scholars and practitioners alike why they entered these fields in the first place and equips them to pursue their vocations with a richer vision of human flourishing.