Sim Chen Xing

In coaching, we often begin with a simple question: “What would you like to work on today?” The client is centered. Their goals, values, and desires are honoured. Rightly so—this is foundational to good coaching.

But sometimes, as conversations unfold, a deeper complexity begins to stir. A client may say, “I don’t know why I reacted that way.” Or, “Part of me wants this, but another part is just… stuck.” These are moments that expose the limits of self-knowledge. And they open up space for a richer, more layered understanding of the self—one that French psychoanalyst Jean Laplanche has much to say about.

The “Other”

Jean Laplanche’s general theory of seduction radically rethinks how the self is formed. He shows that the line between what is “me” and what is “not me” is never as clear as we like to think. The self, in his view, is not a closed container of experiences but a porous field marked by encounters with the Other—especially in childhood.

Laplanche argues that the unconscious is not born from within, but is implanted from the outside. In this way, he collapses the binary of internal vs. external, showing that what we often call our “inner world” is built, in part, from untranslated residues of external encounters.

External Otherness

It all begins in early infancy when caregivers are the first “Others” we encounter. They speak to us, hold us, touch us, gaze at us, soothe us. But crucially, they do not communicate as blank slates. They bring their own unconscious—including their own sexuality, desires, anxieties, and unresolved tensions.

Even the most loving and well-meaning parent might, unknowingly, send double messages:

• A mother breastfeeding may soothe while simultaneously expressing tension in her body language.
• A father may speak affectionately while unconsciously projecting anxiety or shame.
• A caregiver might gaze at the infant with love, but that gaze is never neutral—it carries unconscious emotional or sexual charge.

The infant receives these messages without the tools to decode them. There is too much meaning, and not enough language or maturity to process it.

Laplanche refers to these as “enigmatic signifiers”—messages charged with unconscious meaning that are beyond the child’s comprehension.

Internal Otherness

Because the child cannot translate these enigmatic messages, they become lodged within the psyche. But not in a way the child understands.

These fragments become the kernel of the unconscious. They are not assimilated or resolved, but instead remain as “foreign bodies” within the self—dormant, yet active.

This is the internal otherness:

• The unconscious “self” that is not fully owned,
• A place where desire, fear, and memory linger without clarity,
• The origin of symptoms, confusions, or internal conflicts later in life.

For example:

• A person might develop a pattern of avoiding intimacy without knowing why. What they are avoiding may be the revival of a caregiver’s gaze they once found overwhelming or confusing.
• Someone might be overly self-critical because their internal “inner voice” carries the tone of a caregiver’s anxiety-ridden concern, misunderstood as judgment.

This helps explain why sometimes, even in adulthood, we act or feel in ways that surprise us. We are responding not just to the present, but to echoes of a past we never fully understood.

What This Means for Coaching

From an ICF perspective, the client is always in charge. Their goals, their wisdom, and their choices are central. As stated in Core Competency 4, “Cultivates Trust and Safety,” and Core Competency 6, “Listens Actively,” we are trained to honour the client’s experience and their unique context.

But context is not just situational. It includes deep systems: cultural, familial, spiritual, unconscious. Core Competency 6 specifically urges coaches to “consider the client’s context, identity, environment, experiences, values and beliefs.” In Laplanchean terms, this includes the traces of the Other—the unconscious imprints left by formative relationships and interactions.

For instance, a client struggling with self-doubt may not just need affirmation. They may be carrying an internalized voice from a critical parent or a silently disappointed teacher—voices they couldn’t decode at the time but that continue to echo within. A skilled coach listens not only to what is said but what resists being said. Sometimes, a gentle question like “Whose voice does that sound like?” can open new space for reflection.

This is not therapy. The goal is not to analyze the unconscious, but to respect its presence. When clients permit it, a coach can help them recognize patterns that are not entirely theirs—and in doing so, reclaim agency with fresh clarity.

The Spiritual Horizon: Otherness Beyond the Other

For those who hold to a spiritual worldview, the story of otherness goes even further.

Every relationship, every formative experience, every inexplicable longing may be part of a broader tapestry—one orchestrated by a sovereign God. Nothing is accidental, not even the unspeakable. The Scriptures affirm that God “works out everything in conformity with the purpose of His will” (Ephesians 1:11b, NIV). Even the messages we failed to translate in childhood, even the wounds that became part of our unconscious landscape—none of these are beyond the scope of divine grace.

In fact, if we zoom out and examine this from a broader perspective, we see that every one of us have a unique God-given identity that we don’t fully understand. Unlike the Freudian notion that something becomes repressed after it is deemed unacceptable, Laplanche suggests that repression begins with the implantation of the enigmatic message. In such instance, the unconscious is therefore constituted by whatever that is at the beginning — by what is repressed—and that which is untranslatable. So repression isn’t just an event. It’s a mode of being.

By this logic, if we were to transpose Laplanchean thought into the divine, then the unconscious communication from the Other — in this context, God Himself — may also play a part in the formation of the present self.

This divine identity is manifested in the Scriptures in the form of a “name”. We see this is Solomon’s proverbs where he wrote, “a good name is more desirable than great riches” (Proverbs 22:1a, NIV). This name in question is tied to one’s identity, one’s calling. It isn’t just an arbitrary term where one uses to address each other. Rather, it is a term that encapsulates both (1) earthly hope, desires, and love of the name-giver to the receiver, and (2) a divine identity that transcends the mortal to the immortal realm. We see this in Revelations where the apostle John wrote to the one who is victorious saying, “I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it” (Revelations 2:17c, NIV). In this context, the new name doesn’t just transcend the mortal and the immortal, but it encapsulates the person’s entire being in the mortal as well as the immortal. The name is who that person is — it is his identity.

Taking this into the context of coaching, we can safely say that no one will know their divine name within the mortal realm. Not the client, and definitely not the coach. However, the coach should be aware that the identity of the client is also subjected to this transcendent identity — the identity that deserves all respect and awe.

How does this look like in coaching?

In coaching, clients may not know what is best for them. And as coaches, we might also be uncomfortable with various elements that might surface within the coaching space. However, a Laplanchean lens helps us see that not all parts of the client are fully accessible to themselves. Part of their “inner world” originates from the enigmatic messages of others. And, from a divine perspective, the “self” may even be influenced by an identity that transcends the mortal and immortal.

This has profound implications for coaches.

Coaches who sees the world from this perspective do not just “help clients access their own truth.” Rather, we recognize that some truths were never theirs to begin with. Clients may carry foreign messages—“You’re not good enough,” “You’re responsible for others’ feelings,” “Desire is dangerous”—as if they were native to their self. Clients may also carry divine messages — the name that is only known by the one who receives. Our task, when permitted, is therefore to create a space where those unexamined voices can emerge, be questioned, and slowly re-translated into insights and actions.