Supervision in regulated and institutional contexts is often framed as an evaluative and corrective practice aimed at identifying deficits and ensuring compliance with professional and legal standards (Barnett et al., 2007; Flemons et al., 1996). Some degree of competence assessment is unavoidable in many supervisory settings because evaluation constitutes a core function of supervision (Morgan & Sprenkle, 2007).

However, when supervision becomes predominantly corrective, it may constrict the supervisory relationship (Thomas, 2013). By contrast, postmodern and collaborative approaches to supervision—including solution-focused supervision (SFS), which has been widely endorsed in the literature (e.g., Juhnke, 1996; Selekman & Todd, 1995; Thomas, 2013)—advocate a flattening of hierarchy rather than judgment-centred supervision (Fine & Turner, 1997).

Within a solution-focused (SF) framework, necessary attention to competence, ethics, and client welfare is balanced with a systematic focus on therapists’ successes, agency, and collaboratively defined goals (Thomas, 2013). This shifts supervision from a primarily deficit-oriented, top-down process toward a co-constructed, relational, and future-oriented practice.

The contribution of this case

This case merits attention because it offers a concrete, practice-based illustration of how a deficit-oriented framing of supervision can be challenged in an everyday educational setting, demonstrating how a SF approach can be meaningfully enacted within routine supervisory practice.

A core SF departure from corrective logics is the assumption that change does not require detailed deficit analysis. SF frames supervision as a cooperative, co-constructive process in which the conversational focus shifts to what already works and to concrete next steps in practice (de Shazer, 1984, 1985), thereby enhancing success (Briggs & Miller, 2005). The case is also noteworthy because it presents SF as a workable practice unfolding within existing institutional expectations and evaluative responsibilities.

From correction to ‘Mitchification’

This contrast between correction and expansion is illustrated in Thomas’s (2013) vignette of Mitch. Expecting supervision to expose his inadequacies, Mitch instead left feeling ‘bigger’: his skills expanded and his confidence in his counselling abilities increased. This raises a central question guiding the article: how can supervisory conversations enable supervisees to leave feeling expanded rather than reduced?

By examining this question through a 360-degree supervision lens, the case contributes to the further development of the SF approach by showing it in a relatively novel configuration: a higher education context in which the same person is simultaneously educator, supervisee, and researcher.

To capture this experience, the author introduces the neologism ‘Mitchification’.

In this paper, ‘Mitchification’ is defined as

a phenomenological experience in supervision in which the supervisee leaves the interaction with an expanded sense of competence, agency, and professional possibility, rather than a diminished or deficit-focused self-perception.

The term designates a recurrent and meaningful supervisory effect that aligns with:

Mitchification is not treated as a normative aim of supervision, but as an analytically sensitising concept that invites further inquiry into when and how such experiences emerge.

The article presents an illustrative single-case self-study showing how professional learning can be fostered when supervision is organised as a 360-degree feedback process around one supervisory conversation. The single-case design enables a detailed analysis of reflexive and interactional processes while offering potential for analytical generalisation to other supervisory contexts in education and healthcare.

The case is situated in the author’s professional practice, combining the roles of educator and SF counsellor-in-training (and thus supervisee). Throughout the article, the author is referred to as the ‘educator⇄supervisee.’ A consultation moment—intended to be SF—with a student (conceptualised as the client) was video-recorded and transcribed within the SF counsellor training programme. This multiple positioning provides an insider perspective on supervision, strengthening the reflexivity of the study and its relevance for both practitioners and researchers.

Sequencing of feedback

Prior to group supervision, the educator⇄supervisee engaged in self-initiated self-supervision through a written reflection on useful SF moments and potential areas for improvement. These reflections, together with the transcript, were shared with the supervisor.

Subsequently, the same material was discussed in group supervision with fellow supervisees (‘peers’) and a supervisor. To complete the feedback cycle, a post-supervision member reflection (Braun & Clarke, 2013; Tracy, 2010) and member check (Lincoln & Guba, 1985) were conducted with the student to foster reflexive elaboration.

The article therefore integrates multiple voices into the analysis: those of the educator (meanwhile supervisee in his SF counsellor training), his student (as client), and his supervisor and fellow supervisees in the SF counsellor training programme.

360-degree supervision as SF-aligned practice

In this way, the article operationalises 360-degree supervision as a sequenced set of feedback loops: self-supervision, group supervision, and client-directed student feedback. This configuration aligns with SF principles of learning from observed interaction and retaining practices based on client-validated usefulness (de Shazer & Molnar, 1984; Weiner-Davis et al., 1987). Collectively, the article illustrates how supervision can support supervisees in leaving ‘Mitchified’.

Overall, the case suggests ways in which SFS can be combined with multi-perspectival feedback and stronger forms of client-directedness, offering directions for future practice and research.

Method

This study takes the form of an illustrative single-case self-study situated in the author’s professional practice in higher education at Howest University of Applied Sciences. The case centres on a single consultation between the author, in the role of educator⇄supervisee, and a nursing student. At the same time, the author was enrolled as a supervisee in a SF counsellor training programme at the Korzybski Institute and conducted the present analysis as researcher of his own professional practice.

Ethical considerations

Prior to participation, the student signed a written Informed Consent Form (ICF). Through this document, she granted explicit permission for the video recording of the consultation moment (‘proactive nursing’ supervision session), for the use of the first ten minutes of that recording to be shown and discussed during a group supervision session with fellow supervisees and the supervisor at the Korzybski Institute approximately one month later, and for the recording of a subsequent member reflection and member check conducted online via MS Teams approximately two months after the consultation. She also consented to the use of fully anonymised transcripts and reflections for research purposes and to the publication of anonymised data in an international peer-reviewed journal.

Participation was voluntary throughout. All data were anonymised in transcription and reporting, and the student requested anonymity. Ethical considerations concerning confidentiality, dual-role positioning, and potential power asymmetry were continuously taken into account in the design, conduct, and reporting of the study.

Data sources and procedure

The original consultation lasted approximately thirty minutes and was transcribed verbatim. In line with the analytical focus and journal constraints, the present case study concentrates on the first ten minutes of the interaction, as these opening sequences contained the core relational and evaluative dynamics that were further elaborated across the 360-degree supervision process.

The supervisory learning process unfolded in three sequential feedback loops, each generating distinct but interrelated data sources.

First, the educator⇄supervisee engaged in self-supervision by reviewing the video recording and transcript. A narrative, margin-based reflection was produced directly on the transcript, in which SF-consistent practices, tensions, and missed opportunities were noted in a non-structured manner, drawing on the author’s existing knowledge of solution-focused practice (SFP).

Second, the selected video segment and reflections were discussed in group supervision using the OASE (Opening, Appreciation, Suggestions and Evaluation) format. The group session itself was not audio- or video-recorded. Instead, detailed written notes were taken by the author in real time during the session. These notes consisted of near-verbatim formulations of peers’ and supervisor’s contributions where possible, supplemented by brief contextual annotations. All group members provided oral consent for their anonymised contributions to be included in this study and were given the opportunity to review the manuscript prior to submission.

Third, the feedback cycle was completed through a client-directed member reflection, including a specific member check, conducted after the student had graduated. This session was audio-recorded with consent. The reflection unfolded in three sequential steps: (1) an open, bottom-up reflection in which the student described her experience of the consultation without prior input; (2) a video-assisted reflection in which the recorded interaction was revisited, allowing further elaboration and nuance; and (3) a member check in which the author’s interpretations were presented and discussed, inviting confirmation, refinement, or disagreement. The recording was subsequently summarised in a descriptive manner by the author in collaboration with a colleague, enhancing reflexive depth.

Analytical approach

The analysis followed a theory-informed, practice-based interpretive approach, consistent with principles of practice-based research (Epstein, 2002). Rather than applying a formal coding procedure, the author engaged in repeated reading of the transcript, self-supervision reflections, group supervision notes, and member reflection data. Meaningful patterns in the interaction were identified as ‘trends’ through an iterative dialogue between the data and relevant theoretical frameworks, including SFP, the Bruges Model, and common factors literature.

These trends were neither fully predefined nor purely emergent, but developed through a recursive process in which sensitising concepts from the literature informed the reading of the data, while remaining open to context-specific meanings arising from practice. The analysis thus combined inductive attention to the specifics of the interaction with theoretically informed interpretation.

The group supervision notes and member reflection summaries were subsequently revisited in relation to these identified trends, allowing integration of multiple perspectives (self, peers, supervisor, and student) into a coherent analytical framework. Illustrative excerpts from field notes and reflections are included in the Results section to support key interpretations. Given that group supervision notes were taken in real time, these excerpts are presented as near-verbatim reconstructions rather than full transcripts.

The table presented in the appendix serves as a structured synthesis of the analytical process and findings. It organises how different data sources contributed to the identification and elaboration of the trends across the three feedback loops.

Results

The following analysis is based on the first 10 minutes of the 30-minute consultation. These opening minutes were chosen because they illustrate the core interactional patterns that became central in the subsequent self-supervision, group supervision (OASE), and client-directed member reflection.

First Loop: Self-supervision

“When the educator⇄supervisee engages in individual self-supervision prior to the group supervision moment, what difference will that make?”

In the self-supervision, the educator⇄supervisee explored voluntarily both the video and the transcript, three days before the effective group supervision moment. A summary of the detected trends is shown below and in the second column of the table in the appendix.

Trend 1: Alliance

This trend concerns early interactional moves by the educator⇄supervisee that foster a strong educator-student relationship, a key condition for effective learning (Marzano, 2007). These moves include the use of a ‘yes-set’, in which successive affirmative responses enhance receptivity and cooperation (Erickson et al., 1976). This approach aligns with Bordin’s (1979) conceptualisation of the working alliance as comprising agreement on goals and tasks, as well as—specifically within this first trend—an affective bond.

The educator⇄supervisee explicitly acknowledges the student’s preparation: “You posted your preparations, so you were all set…” (see appendix, 00’00"). Such acknowledgement strengthens trust and feedback receptivity, thereby fostering the educational alliance (Telio et al., 2015) and establishing a relational basis for subsequent collaborative work on shared goals (see Trend 2). In this way, the interaction also reflects principles of joining (Minuchin, 1974; Minuchin & Fishman, 1981), as the educator attunes to and connects with the student early in the conversation. The educator⇄supervisee explicitly identified this at the outset as a ‘joining manoeuvre’—a deliberate ‘way to connect’ (see appendix, 00’00").

Self-supervision reveals a growing awareness of how alliance is enacted not only verbally but also nonverbally. For instance, in the educator⇄supervisee’s self-supervision notes, the reflection “I give a sincere compliment but do not maintain eye contact…” underscores the essential role of congruence between verbal affirmation and embodied presence.

Overall, this trend shows that a strong educational alliance is deliberately built through early verbal and nonverbal attunement, where acknowledgement, connection, and congruence together create the relational foundation for effective learning and collaboration.

Trend 2: Goal-setting

This trend reflects the educator⇄supervisee’s deliberate focus on early goal-setting, particularly through structured session openings and the timely clarification of goals (e.g., de Shazer, 1991; Metcalf, 2021; Ratner et al., 2012; Stark, 2025). It also includes agenda-setting practices (Berg, 1994) that position the student as an active agent within the conversation.

The educator⇄supervisee deliberately structured the opening of the session and invited the student to articulate how the conversation could be useful to her. This is illustrated in the opening question (see appendix, 00’12"): “We have half an hour that we can go through things together. How would you prefer to approach this so that it’s as useful as possible?” In doing so, the educator⇄supervisee supported shared goal formulation and reinforced the student’s actor position in shaping both the direction and purpose of the interaction.

At the same time, the self-supervision reveals critical reflection on how consistently this goal-setting stance is maintained throughout the interaction. For example, when the educator⇄supervisee later asks: “Are those things you’ll take with you into your final reflection? Or not? It doesn’t have to be, you know…” (see appendix, 05’40"), this is retrospectively questioned: “This did not feel like a good question (too suggestive?). Not very SF? Can I formulate a more appropriate, open, SF question here?” This illustrates how even subtle shifts in questioning may influence the degree of student ownership, potentially moving the interaction from open goal exploration toward implicit steering.

In addition, the educator⇄supervisee reflects on the potential unintended effects of emphasising openness without sufficient clarity: “This also does not feel right… perhaps I am creating too much uncertainty for the student here?” (see appendix, 05’40"). This highlights how goal-setting in an educational context requires a balance between supporting student agency and maintaining clarity regarding expectations.

Taken together, goal-setting is actively facilitated through open invitations and shared structuring of the session, while the self-supervision reveals an ongoing effort to balance autonomy with clarity. In this sense, goal-setting is not a one-time intervention, but a continuously negotiated process that shapes the student’s role as an active participant in the interaction.

Trend 3: Feedback as a facilitating⇄gatekeeping practice

This trend captures the inherent tension in educational supervision between facilitating student learning (e.g., Metcalf, 2021) and fulfilling a gatekeeping role in relation to professional standards (Deketelaere & De Paepe, 2025). Feedback practices may take corrective, suggestive, or epistemic forms, focusing respectively on error correction, directive guidance, or reflection on underlying reasoning (Alvarez et al., 2012; Guasch et al., 2013; Leibold & Schwarz, 2015). While SF facilitation emphasises a ‘not-knowing stance’ (Anderson & Goolishian, 1992; Erickson & Rossi, 1979) and ‘leading from one step behind’ (Cantwell & Holmes, 1995), competency-based educational contexts simultaneously require educators to uphold institutional and evaluative responsibilities (Deketelaere & De Paepe, 2025).

This dual responsibility generates a structural tension for the educator⇄supervisee. Epistemic feedback aligns closely with facilitative supervision and the promotion of student agency, whereas corrective and suggestive feedback are more directly associated with gatekeeping and evaluative accountability. Preserving the educational alliance is therefore crucial, as alliance ruptures can reduce feedback receptivity and heighten educator reluctance to provide necessary corrective input (Allen & Molloy, 2017; Ramani et al., 2020). In the present case, this tension became particularly salient during the consultation, where facilitation and gatekeeping had to be continuously balanced without one excluding the other.

This tension is explicitly recognised in the self-supervision. For example, when the educator⇄supervisee provides explanatory, corrective input, such as “You don’t have to use the term differential diagnosis, because that is more something physicians do…” (see appendix, 2’12"), he reflects: “Am I not falling too much into corrective feedback here? I start explaining something the student probably already knows… How can I be more SF here?” This illustrates a moment in which corrective feedback (gatekeeping) risks overshadowing a facilitative stance, prompting reflexive questioning about how to maintain student agency within an evaluative context.

In addition, the educator⇄supervisee reflects on the potential consequences of an overemphasis on facilitation: “A pitfall of SFP—at least for me—is that frequent validation contrasts with giving feedback about what is not so good and what could be improved, which is an important task as a teacher… A ‘too strong focus’ on what goes well can be problematic when the student ultimately delivers a weaker final product… ‘But you said I was doing well?’ How do I safeguard that balance?” This fragment directly illustrates the core dilemma between facilitation and gatekeeping, highlighting the risk that a predominantly resource-oriented approach may obscure evaluative clarity and expectations.

The tension also becomes apparent in hindsight regarding missed opportunities for clearer guidance: “Here again: validating/normalising (‘it is OK’) versus clearly setting expectations as a teacher… Later, during the student’s defence, an external jury member asked for more explanation about DBT, and she struggled to answer. So here I may have been too SF and too little ‘teacher’…” This reflection demonstrates how an emphasis on facilitation and autonomy may, in retrospect, conflict with the responsibility to adequately prepare the student for evaluative moments, thereby foregrounding the gatekeeping function.

This shows that the educator⇄supervisee continuously navigates the interplay between facilitative and evaluative feedback. The self-supervision does not resolve this tension but articulates it as a structural and ongoing balancing act, in which both roles are necessary and must be dynamically aligned within the interaction.

In this sense, feedback emerges not as a unidirectional intervention, but as a relational practice in which facilitation and gatekeeping are not mutually exclusive; rather, they co-exist.

Trend 4: Mandate and relational alignment (Bruges Model)

This trend focuses on how the educator⇄supervisee aligns feedback practices with the evolving mandate within the professional relationship, as conceptualised in the Bruges Model (Cabié & Isebaert, 1997; de Shazer & Isebaert, 2003; Isebaert, 2007, 2016; Isebaert & Lefevere, 2022). Within this framework, interventions are attuned to the relational position (uncommitted, searching, consulting, or co-expert), requiring continuous calibration of both the form and intensity of feedback.

Permission-seeking formulations—such as “I might make you think for yourself… if I may?” (see appendix, 07’00")—function as epistemic feedback practices that support relational alignment and student agency. Such formulations signal sensitivity to the mandate and help ensure that interventions remain congruent with the current level of engagement. In this sense, feedback is not only content-driven but relationally negotiated.

In self-supervision, the educator⇄supervisee identified moments of misalignment between intervention and mandate. For instance, when the student explicitly asked for input, the educator⇄supervisee later reflected: “Here I think we are in a consulting relationship according to the Bruges Model. The student asks me a question, and here I might have been able to give a more valuable answer. Or at least offer some options? Now I am leaving her somewhat uncertain.” This illustrates a moment in which insufficient alignment with a consulting mandate may have limited the usefulness of the feedback.

Conversely, the educator⇄supervisee also reflects on instances where he may have exceeded the mandate within a more collaborative, co-expert relationship: “On the one hand, I keep the conversation ‘on track’… On the other hand, I feel we are in a co-expert relationship… and yet I cannot help but position myself above and add extra input… How do I maintain a healthy balance?” This highlights how over-intervening in a co-expert relationship may disrupt relational symmetry and inadvertently shift the interaction toward a more hierarchical stance.

A similar tension emerges in reflections on subtle steering within the interaction: “Am I not steering too much here? On the one hand, I follow her story… On the other hand, as a teacher, should I not ensure she gets maximum value from the feedback and return to her concrete questions?” This fragment illustrates how alignment with the mandate requires ongoing negotiation between following the student’s lead and introducing direction, depending on the relational positioning.

The self-supervision reveals how both under- and over-alignment with the mandate may occur within the same interaction, and how the educator⇄supervisee actively reflects on calibrating interventions to the evolving relational position. In this sense, effective feedback is contingent not only on what is said, but on how well the intervention matches the mandate within the relationship.

Trend 5: Freedom of choice

This trend reflects the educator⇄supervisee’s attention to freedom of choice as a core principle within SFP. Within the Bruges Model tradition, the importance of offering and highlighting choices was explicitly developed during the Bruges brainstorming group between 1982 and 1990, where it became a defining element of SF thinking (Le Fevere de Ten Hove, personal communication, March 9, 2026), and has been further described in SF literature (e.g., Cabié & Isebaert, 1997; Isebaert, 2007, 2016). The importance of freedom of choice was later also confirmed by Steve de Shazer (Le Fevere de Ten Hove, personal communication, March 9, 2026). Rather than directing behaviour, the educator⇄supervisee invites exploration through permissive language that enables the student to recognise and consider multiple possible directions.

Within this educational context, ‘and/and thinking’ becomes particularly salient. By broadening the range of possible options, this stance contrasts with ‘or/or thinking’, in which choosing one option implies the exclusion of another (see also supervisor’s suggestion in the appendix, 05’40", column 3), “…potentially constraining perceived possibilities and framing the situation as a forced or even unresolvable choice.”

In self-supervision, several moments were identified in which choice was actively induced through conditional and exploratory formulations. This is illustrated, for example, when the educator⇄supervisee frames feedback in hypothetical terms (see appendix, 07’00"): “If you were to choose to add more nursing problems… and also potential nursing problems… What could be an advantage of that? And also, a disadvantage?” Such phrasing opens a reflective space in which multiple options can coexist, allowing the student to weigh possibilities without being directed toward a single ‘correct’ course of action.

At the same time, the self-supervision reveals ongoing reflection on the limits of this approach. The educator⇄supervisee notes: “I have the feeling that I try too much to make the conversation SF…” This suggests an emerging awareness that an exclusive focus on openness and optionality may risk reducing clarity within an educational context. Rather than abandoning the principle of choice, this reflection points toward the need to situate freedom of choice within a broader pedagogical framework in which expectations remain transparent.

This is further illustrated in a reformulation attempt (see appendix, 05’55"): “You’re making thoughtful considerations. Would it be okay if I also shared what we consider important in the evaluation of your assignment?” Here, the educator⇄supervisee explicitly combines the invitation of choice with a transparent introduction of evaluative criteria. This formulation maintains the student’s autonomy while making institutional expectations available as one of several elements to consider.

These reflections illustrate how freedom of choice can be realized in a SF manner by inviting the student to explore multiple possibilities through permissive and reflective dialogue, while balancing this openness with clear communication of educational expectations to support both autonomy and direction.

Trend 6: Resource activation

This trend concerns the activation of student strengths as a mechanism of change (Gassmann & Grawe, 2006; Grawe, 1998), operationalised through SF feedback practices such as compliments (de Shazer et al., 2007).

A key distinction is made between direct and indirect compliments (e.g., Berg, 1994; de Shazer et al., 2007; Thomas, 2016). In self-supervision, the educator⇄supervisee critically reflects on the statements “I think your intention is very good”, characterising it as a ‘woolly’ compliment (see appendix, 01’38"), and “So I think your intention and your approach are actually good” (02’25"), noting in his self-supervision notes: “Complimenting someone for their ‘intention’ does not seem very strong to me…” and “Is praising intention rather than action really SF?” These reflections highlight an emerging awareness that resource activation is strengthened when grounded in concrete, observable behaviour.

Similarly, direct praise such as “Good idea” (see appendix, 09’20") is critically examined in terms of its potential evaluative character, prompting a shift toward more indirect, resource-activating formulations such as “What does a successful assignment look like for you?”

Together, these insights point to a more deliberate and nuanced use of compliments in fostering student strengths.

Trend 7: SF language

This trend captures the educator⇄supervisee’s use of SF language practices that shape interaction at a micro-level. Within SF traditions, language is not merely descriptive but constitutive of meaning, aligning with Ludwig Wittgenstein’s (1953) notion of language games (de Shazer, 1984, 1991).

The educator⇄supervisee demonstrates sensitivity to negation. The use of “No problem” (see appendix, 00’36") is critically examined, as such formulations may inadvertently preserve problem-focused meaning (Le Fevere de Ten Hove, 2019).

A limited instance of reframing (de Shazer, 1988) and normalising (Bertolino & O’Hanlon, 2002; Campbell et al., 1999; O’Hanlon & Weiner-Davis, 1989) is identified. For example, by reframing the student’s words “I still need some time” as “It takes time, exactly…” (see appendix, 06’25"), the educator⇄supervisee reflects on how this formulation shifts meaning toward a more generalised and acceptable process.

A further instance of ‘repeating with a little nuance’ (Isebaert, 2016) is observed when the educator repeats and slightly modifies the student’s formulation: “It is a balancing exercise…” becomes “Yes… It is indeed a balancing exercise…” (see appendix, 08’14"). The addition of ‘indeed’ functions as a subtle affirmation, reinforcing the student’s framing while maintaining alignment.

Finally, respecting a moment of silence (see appendix, 06’39") reflects an additional dimension of SF language practices. Silence is approached as an active communicative element that allows space for reflection and processing (Benjamin, 1987; Black, 2020; De Jong & Berg, 2013; de Shazer et al., 2007; Levitt & Morrill, 2023).

More broadly, the self-supervision reveals an increasing awareness of how linguistic formulations may influence the direction and perceived clarity of the interaction. Subtle variations in phrasing can shape whether an utterance is experienced as exploratory or directive, and whether it supports or constrains meaning-making.

When considered together, these observations highlight how subtle linguistic choices function as active mechanisms in shaping SF interaction.

Trend 8: SF techniques

This trend relates to the educator⇄supervisee’s use of specific SF techniques as described in the SF literature, both in therapeutic (e.g., De Jong & Berg, 1997; De Jong & Miller, 1995; de Shazer et al., 2007; George et al., 1999; Isebaert, 2007, 2016; Iveson, 1994; Ratner et al., 2012) and educational contexts (e.g., Le Fevere de Ten Hove et al., 2020; Metcalf, 2021; Stark, 2025; Stark & Metcalf, 2021). Examples of such techniques include scaling questions, exception questions, and other structured intervention formats (e.g., de Shazer, 1986).

In self-supervision, the educator⇄supervisee reports a relatively limited use of explicit SF techniques. Rather than relying on clearly identifiable techniques, he primarily orients toward interactional stance, responsiveness, and relational alignment. This position aligns with calls for parsimony in technique use, as articulated by an expert by experience at the SF World Day (May 2025), and with common factors research suggesting that specific techniques account for only a limited proportion of outcome variance (e.g., Lambert, 1986, 1992).

The relative absence of explicit techniques is also reflected in the self-supervision, where potential opportunities for more structured interventions are retrospectively recognised. For instance, the educator⇄supervisee notes: “Here I might have been able to give a more valuable answer. Or at least offer some options?” This suggests that moments were present in which more structured SF techniques—such as option-generating or scaling-like explorations—could have been applied, but were not explicitly developed as such.

Similarly, the educator⇄supervisee reflects: “I may have been able to ask a more valuable question here…” and “Can I formulate a more appropriate, open, SF question here?” While the linguistic formulation of questions is further analysed in relation to SF language (see Trend 7), these reflections are relevant here in that they point to missed opportunities for structuring the interaction through more explicit technique use.

Together, these reflections suggest a predominantly stance-driven approach in which explicit SF techniques remain underutilised yet potentially valuable.

Trend 9: Body language

This trend concerns the educator⇄supervisee’s use of nonverbal behaviour as an integral component of SFP. A respectful and cooperative relationship is strongly influenced by nonverbal communication (Okun & Kantrowitz, 2008). In this context, body language supports rapport, signals engagement, and amplifies verbal interventions without directive intrusion. Nonverbal behaviours such as an open posture, a forward trunk lean, and attentive eye contact further enhance the working alliance and support collaborative interaction (Dowell & Berman, 2013; Knapp & Hall, 2010). In addition, nodding functions as a minimal encourager, affirming responses and inviting further elaboration (Rossi, 1993).

In self-supervision, the educator⇄supervisee reports no overt difficulties in his use of body language. However, he questions how increased awareness of both the student’s and his own nonverbal signals might yield deeper insight into the interaction and its relational dynamics. This reflection is echoed in his third supervisory question (SQ 3) (see below, second loop).

This awareness becomes particularly explicit in moments where verbal and nonverbal behaviour are retrospectively considered in relation to each other. For example, the educator⇄supervisee’s reflection on giving a compliment without making eye contact (see appendix, 04’17") highlights a potential incongruence between verbal affirmation and nonverbal presence. This suggests that the impact of alliance-building or resource-oriented interventions may be moderated by embodied communication.

The self-supervision points to an emerging sensitivity to how relational positioning is not only constructed through language but also enacted through nonverbal cues. Reflections such as “I feel we are in a co-expert relationship… and yet I cannot help but position myself above…” (see appendix, 04’20") can also be understood in relation to posture, gaze, and spatial orientation, indicating how subtle nonverbal signals may reinforce or contradict the intended relational stance.

Overall, while no major difficulties were identified, the self-supervision reveals an increasing awareness of how congruence between verbal and nonverbal behaviour contributes to relational alignment and the strength of the working alliance.

Second Loop: SF Group Supervision with OASE

“When group supervision draws on the educator⇄supervisee’s autopoietic capacities, what difference will that make?”

This question calls for a concrete supervisory structure in which self-organisation is operationalised. The OASE model is introduced as one such structure, as it is used within the author’s SF counsellor training and therefore offers a consistent, practice-based frame of reference. Examining OASE through an autopoietic lens allows analysis of how a specific supervisory format may support, amplify, or constrain supervisee’s self-organising processes in group supervision.

The OASE model builds on earlier developments in systemic and SF reflective dialogue. An important starting point is the reflecting team approach introduced by Tom Andersen (1991), in which a team listens to a conversation and subsequently shares tentative reflections to stimulate new perspectives. This approach was later adapted within a SF framework by Harry Norman, Michael Hjerth and Tim Pidsley (Norman et al., 2005), who integrated reflective dialogue with principles such as appreciation of strengths and future-oriented suggestions. Building on these traditions, Baeijaert (2015) described the O.A.S.I.S. reflective team format developed within Ilfaro, a Belgium-based counselling organisation specialising in SF training and organisational development. This model structures reflective conversations into five stages: Opening, Appreciation, Suggestions, Inspiration and Stop. The OASE model represents a further adaptation of this structure in which the stages ‘Inspiration’ and ‘Stop’ are combined into a single phase, ‘Evaluation’, resulting in the four-stage sequence Opening, Appreciation, Suggestions and Evaluation.

Grounded in the autopoietic theory of Maturana and Varela (1980), OASE assumes that change does not stem from external instruction, correction, or knowledge transfer, but from the supervisee’s self-organising processes. The supervisee is conceptualised as a structurally closed system that continuously reorganises itself in response to internal and contextual ‘perturbations’. In line with Maturana and Varela (1987), perturbations are understood as environmental or relational triggers that do not determine change but can evoke or select internal state transitions within a structurally determined system. They consist of subtle inputs or conversational prompts that may stimulate the supervisee’s own meaning-making and change processes.

Consequently, SFS may create conditions in which supervisees determine what is meaningful, useful, or viable within their own professional logic (Thomas, 2013).

Within OASE, SF elements are retained only to the extent that they are consistent with these autopoietic assumptions. They function as perturbations that enhance awareness of existing patterns, resources, and viable alternatives, rather than imposing external meanings or goals (Thomas, 2013).

Opening/Orientation

The supervisee owns the case and formulates the supervision questions. This ownership reflects the assumption that direction, relevance, and criteria for usefulness are internally determined. The group listens ‘with a constructive ear’ (Lipchik, 1988), and its clarifying questions remain descriptive and non-interpretive—‘just scratching the surface’ (de Shazer, 1991)—thereby limiting external interference and respecting structural closure. This stance was also observable in the interaction itself, where peers explicitly recognised how the established the student’s mandate (see appendix, e.g., 00’12", 00’39", 07’00"). In this context, the supervisor repeatedly used the expression ‘placing the student in the actor position’ as a valuable SF intervention.

When supervision questions are formulated in advance and supervisees engage in individual self-supervision, presession change—as described by Weiner-Davis et al. (1987)—may occur, as the supervisee’s system may already begin to reorganise before formal supervision takes place. This was positively reinforced and hereby utilised by the supervisor, who said: “I find your own reflections in the margins of your transcript very elegant.”

At the start of the group session, the supervisee first outlined the case and then formulated explicit supervision questions. In line with de Shazer’s (1991) emphasis on goal-setting as a prerequisite for facilitating change, these questions functioned as learning goals guiding the supervisory process.

The supervisee’s questions (SQ’s) were:

  • SQ 1: How can I balance my role as ‘facilitator of learning’ with my gatekeeping responsibilities?

  • SQ 2: Are my interventions aligned with the student’s level of engagement according to the Bruges Model?

  • SQ 3: What can be learned from the body language of both the student and me, and what does this reveal about the consultation moment?

Following this, a fellow supervisee asked a clarifying question about whether the supervision took place on a voluntary basis or as a formally scheduled, mandatory component of the student’s program. The supervisee confirmed that it was a mandatory, scheduled moment.

Appreciation/Affirmation

This phase explicitly draws on autopoiesis by amplifying what is already functioning within the supervisee’s practice. Attention is directed to effective actions observable in the here-and-now, acknowledging that change is always already underway (Berg & Szabó, 2005; Maturana & Varela, 1980; Thomas, 2013). Appreciation does not primarily introduce new information but stabilises and strengthens existing patterns that the supervisee may choose to continue (Maturana & Varela, 1980). At the same time, it may render implicit competencies explicit: supervisees may discover that they are already applying SF interventions or mobilising personal resources without previously being aware of them (Berg & Szabó, 2005). In this sense, appreciation can also generate new meaning by ‘catching’ the supervisee doing something that moves in the desired direction, thereby valuing the supervisee’s own repertoire of resources and strategies (Le Fevere de Ten Hove, personal communication, March 9, 2026).

The common factors literature—as discussed earlier—suggests that the finding that a substantial proportion of outcomes is attributable to client factors can be interpreted as empirical support for self-organising change. Peers’ appreciative observations function as systemic perturbations that may reshape the supervisee’s perception of competence and agency (O’Connell & Jones, 1997).

During the appreciative phase, the supervision consistently affirmed and validated the educator⇄supervisee’s effective SF behaviours, such as active listening, respecting freedom of choice, reassuring, and positioning the student respectfully as actor and expert, while still striving for clarity. This was concretely illustrated by peer feedback such as: “You listen actively to her ideas, her proposals, her line of thinking—you could even see it in your posture, and she kept going” (see appendix, 00’41"–01’38") and “You give the student the confidence that she will be able to do it…” (05’20"). Additionally, micro-validations were highlighted, for example: “I follow your reasoning…”, which was recognised as a ‘joining move’ (see appendix, 03’27"), and “I think that’s a beautiful perspective…” (04’17"), described by the group as giving ‘a nudge… keep thinking… you are doing well’.

Suggestions

These inputs are framed as optional variations rather than corrective input. From an autopoietic perspective, suggestions function as perturbations that the supervisee’s system may integrate, transform, or discard, depending on its internal coherence (Maturana & Varela, 1980; McCurdy, 2006). The focus remains on ‘instances of success’ (George et al., 1999), repeating what works or doing something slightly different when existing patterns are less viable (Bateson, 1979; de Shazer, 1985). Change is expected to occur between sessions, consistent with the assumption that reorganisation happens outside the supervisory encounter itself (McCurdy, 2006).

In this SFS, suggestions are primarily offered by fellow supervisees, while the supervisor mainly adopts an affirming role and occasionally adds further reflections or extensions, maintaining the supervisee in the actor and expert position.

One example involved a scaling question suggested by a fellow supervisee, with the supervisor adding that it could be complemented with follow-up questions to make the student’s current status visible (see appendix, 05’55"). This was further specified in near-verbatim terms as: “What do you already see yourself doing in that 7—and how do you do that?”, emphasising the importance of resource activation and first making use of ‘client factors’ (Lambert, 1986, 1992) before moving toward future steps. The supervisor added:

“Solution-focus means, in fact, ‘catching’ people on what they are doing better now. Ignoring this is like throwing 40% of client factors in the trash.”

While not to be taken literally, it remains a striking and memorable message that underscores the importance of recognizing and amplifying existing strengths.

A noteworthy example of an extension by the supervisor was highlighting the challenge of feeling the urge to intervene within a co-expert relationship (Bruges Model) (see appendix, 04’20"). In such moments, restraint is required to preserve the student’s ownership. A potential pitfall arises when adding suggestions, as this may unintentionally convey a message such as: “You are doing well, but I—as the expert—still know better”, thereby undermining the intended collaborative stance.

“The co-expert relationship is not always self-evident, you may still have your own ideas, and in those moments, you really have to bite your tongue.”

This positioning was subsequently made explicit by the supervisor, for example: “You can first ask what she thinks herself, and then add options” (see appendix, 05’40"). In doing so, the supervisor expanded the supervisee’s repertoire (‘and/and thinking’) rather than directing it (‘or/or thinking’), which contributed to the supervisee’s sense of ‘being Mitchified’.

As shown in column 4, the appreciative and suggestive phases sometimes overlap. Although the group reflected on this (“Are we already in the suggestive phase?”), the sequence remained flexible. This flexibility aligns with the pragmatic ethos of SFP, as described by numerous authors in both (psycho)therapy (e.g., Cabié & Isebaert, 1997; de Shazer et al., 2007; Isebaert, 2016; Jackson & McKergow, 2002; Lipchik, 2011) and education (e.g., Le Fevere de Ten Hove et al., 2020; Metcalf, 1993; Murphy, 1994; Seko & Lau, 2021; Stark et al., 2023). This pragmatic balancing was also voiced by a peer as ‘a difficult balancing exercise between facilitator and gatekeeper’ (see appendix, 05’55"), while another reframed it in the suggestive phase as: “What can the student do within the constraints of the assignment to succeed, despite the limiting framework…?” and hereby being transparent about the evaluation expectations.

Evaluation

Evaluation centres on the supervisee’s selection of what was useful. This selection is understood as an expression of self-organisation: what ‘sticks’ is what fits the supervisee’s values, goals, and professional context (Thomas, 2013). Future-oriented statements are ideally formulated as concrete ‘do-scenarios’, supporting a ‘self-fulfilling prophecy in the desired direction’ (Le Fevere de Ten Hove, personal communication, January 20, 2026). Evaluation thus naturally invites ongoing self-supervision, reinforcing the supervisee’s capacity to continue reorganising between sessions and closing the loop of ownership within SFS (Walsh et al., 2018), potentially resulting in a sense of being Mitchified as a phenomenological outcome of autopoietic change.

During the evaluative phase, one peer offered concrete feedback on body language—thereby picking up on SQ 3—highlighting openness, presence, and alignment. This was formulated in near-verbatim terms as: “Your posture creates openness… you radiate calm… and when you leaned forward, you really came into her field of vision”, illustrating how non-verbal behaviour contributed to the interaction. The educator⇄supervisee articulated one key takeaway related to SQ 1: that SFP and gatekeeping can coexist in an integrated manner, expressed as: “Before coming here, I saw these as two separate roles… now I see they do not have to be separate”. The supervisor explicitly reinforced this insight: “it can be both/and, not either/or—that is a very SF conclusion.”

Although SQ 2 was not revisited at this point, it had been addressed earlier in the group supervision, illustrating once again that the supervisee remains in charge of the supervision process and that neither the group nor the supervisor ‘pulls’ the issue forward—an expression of autopoiesis. At this moment, the educator⇄supervisee spontaneously referred to Deketelaere and De Paepe (2025), who argue for the importance of explicitly articulating dual roles in advance. Rather than presenting these roles as an either-or choice, they emphasise the need to acknowledge them as complementary: the educator simultaneously operates as a ‘facilitator’ (coach/guide/mentor) and as a ‘gatekeeper’ (evaluator). This was echoed by a peer suggestion: “Perhaps you could explicitly name your double role by saying ‘now it is a coaching conversation, but at another moment I will also evaluate’”, thereby increasing transparency. Making this dual responsibility explicit helps create transparency in the relationship and clarifies expectations for both parties.

Third Loop: Client-Directed Member Reflection

“When the educator⇄supervisee asks feedback from their client (i.e. the student) to close the SFS-loop, what difference will that make?”

Client-directedness rests on the principle that clients are the primary judges of what is helpful and meaningful in relation to their goals and contexts (Duncan et al., 2010). Their feedback is therefore not supplementary but central to evaluation, learning, and change. In supervision, client feedback offers first-hand insight into alliance quality, perceived clarity, and possible blind spots that may escape supervisors or supervisees (Thomas, 2013). It may counterbalance selective attention to strengths and temper overly optimistic interpretations of progress.

In this study, client-directedness functioned as a final reflective layer within the 360-degree process. During the original consultation moment, the educator provided feedback to the student. In the member reflection and -check, this dynamic was temporarily reversed: through a structured reflection procedure, the student offered feedback to the educator, who momentarily adopted the position of supervisee.

Approximately two months after the consultation and subsequent SFS, and after graduation, the student was invited to revisit the recorded session. To preserve a bottom-up perspective, she first reflected openly without prior exposure to supervisory interpretations. The process unfolded in three rounds:

Round 1 – Open reflection

The student described the consultation as calm, clear, and reassuring. She experienced the dialogue as built on her own contributions and felt she was steering the conversation while being constructively guided. “I mainly had the feeling that I was steering the conversation… that I took the thread, but that you helped guide it in the right direction” and “You constantly built on what I brought in myself.” The educator⇄supervisee’s stance was perceived as listening and facilitative, which enhanced her sense of ownership: “I really had the feeling at that moment that you were listening to me” and “You mainly took a listening position and helped guide based on what I needed.” Communication was experienced as transparent and stress-reducing within an already demanding educational period: “The communication was very clear, transparent” and “That clarity was calming for me, because there was already so much stress in the programme.” She felt heard and able to articulate her questions freely. “I had the feeling that I could express everything I had prepared” and “I didn’t feel like I was asking the wrong questions.”

At the same time, she reported residual uncertainty regarding evaluation. Although she felt accepted within the SF interaction, she remained unsure whether she was ‘doing well enough’. This tension is explicitly reflected in her words: “I felt completely accepted in the conversation… but towards the educational side I was still wondering: am I doing well or not?” and “I just didn’t know at that moment.” The educator⇄supervisee was experienced as neutral—neither confirming nor disconfirming adequacy—illustrating the persistent tension between facilitation and gatekeeping: “I found you very neutral in that… not confirming, but also not negative”. This neutrality, while relationally safe, maintained evaluative ambiguity: “That doubt remained… I didn’t know if I was doing well enough.”

Round 2 – Video-assisted reflection

After reviewing the recording, the student nuanced her initial experience. She recognised that clearer guidance had been provided than she had registered at the time, particularly regarding differential diagnoses and expectations: “Before watching the video, I mainly had the feeling that I didn’t get clear answers… but when I look back at it now, I actually did” and “Now that I rewatch the conversation, I see that you did communicate that clearly.” She attributed part of her earlier uncertainty to stress and cognitive overload: “There was a lot of stress around the assignment… I don’t know which element influenced it, but things get lost in the conversation.” The video revealed that more direction had been offered than she had retained: “Indirectly, I did get clear answers, but I didn’t realise that at the time” and “It comes across differently now that I see it again.”

She also confirmed the educator⇄supervisee’s open posture and calm presence, describing the interaction as one in which she felt consistently received: “I noticed that your body posture was comfortable and calming” and “You gave me the space to start and decide what to bring in.” This contributed to a sense of being supported while remaining agentic in the conversation: “You helped me think… you fed me in a way that made me reflect myself” and “I built further on what I was saying and kept thinking about how to approach it.”

Round 3 – Member check

The final analytical layer was completed through an explicit member check, systematically documented in the appendix (column 5). The educator⇄supervisee shared the insights from both self- and group supervision, after which the consultation was revisited in a structured, passage-by-passage manner. This sequential revisiting is reflected in the student’s time-specific feedback, indicating a granular engagement with the interaction rather than a global retrospective judgement.

Across this process, the student consistently indicated whether the interpretations resonated with her lived experience. For instance, she confirmed experiencing the opening as psychologically safe, describing it as “a safety check” (see appendix, 00’00"), and recognised how being invited to start positioned her in an active role, explicitly agreeing that “you now give the lead to the student” (see appendix, 00’39"). She also validated both clarity and confusion in specific moments, such as confirming the clarity of expectations around differentiating—“Your expectations were clear” (see appendix, 01’55")—while acknowledging uncertainty when confronted with more open formulations, noting that this “did create some confusion” (see appendix, 05’40"). These responses demonstrate that interpretations were not assumed but explicitly checked against her experiential perspective.

Importantly, the validation process proved iterative and dialogical, enabling the student to confirm, nuance, or contextualise interpretations. She agreed with the positive evaluation of early goal-setting, stating that “within the context I did feel at ease” (see appendix, 00’12"), while nuancing linguistic critiques by indicating that phrases such as “No problem” did not negatively impact her, though “it did stagnate a little” and created brief uncertainty about who would begin (see appendix, 00’36"). In other instances, she contextualised her responses by linking them to personal factors, such as her ambivalence toward DBT when explaining experienced confusion, explicitly stating: “I wanted to block that off completely at that moment” (see appendix, 05’40").

This step marked a clear shift from global reflection to fine-grained validation. The student differentiated subtle experiential effects at the level of individual utterances, for example describing feedback as “in the middle” and “not positive and not negative” rather than clearly helpful (see appendix, 09’20"), or distinguishing between reflective support and lack of clarity in exploratory questioning by noting that she would have preferred “more literal answers” in an educational setting (see appendix, 07’00"). Such distinctions demonstrate a move toward micro-analytic precision in evaluating interactional impact.

In doing so, the member check functioned as a form of client-directed quality control. The student actively confirmed some analytical claims while correcting or reframing others. For example, she rejected the assumption that certain linguistic elements were problematic, stating that she “did not experience that ‘as negative’” but rather “supportive” (see appendix, 01’38"). She also clarified when analytical observations did not align with her lived experience, for instance by stating that the compliment without eye contact “did not stand out to me in the conversation at all” (see appendix, 04’17"). At the same time, she confirmed when interpretations were accurate, particularly regarding moments of ambiguity and uncertainty, acknowledging that openness could feel both comfortable and confusing: “It was a double feeling” (see appendix, 08’14").

Beyond validation, the student positioned herself as a co-interpreter of the interaction. She attributed meaning to interventions, for example interpreting a epistemic feedback question as confirmation of her reasoning—“That was a confirmation for me” (see appendix, 02’52")—and evaluated their educational implications, explicitly reflecting on the balance between facilitation and guidance. In doing so, she noted that although the conversation felt comfortable, she nevertheless left with the feeling that she had “not literally received answers to what I was struggling with” (see appendix, 07’00"). Her reflections further indicate an awareness of the inherent complexity of such interactions, acknowledging that many situations require judgement rather than fixed answers, as illustrated by her framing of certain tasks as “a balancing exercise” (see appendix, 07’00").

At the same time, the student highlighted that not all analytical distinctions are accessible in the immediacy of the interaction. Several micro-interventions (e.g., reframing or silence) were not consciously registered during the conversation but only became meaningful in retrospect. For example, she noted about a silence that it “did not stand out to me” because such pauses felt comfortable to her, and similarly remarked of another subtle intervention that it “did not come across” in the moment (see appendix, 06’39"). This underscores the temporal gap between lived experience and analytical reconstruction.

Crucially, the student consistently confirmed the central analytical tension between a facilitative stance and the educator’s responsibility to provide clarity. She experienced reflective, autonomy-supportive interventions as helpful, yet at times insufficiently directive, expressing a need for “more literal answers” in an educational context (see appendix, 07’00"). This resulted in recurring ambivalence, where moments of comfort coexisted with uncertainty about expectations, as reflected in statements such as “It was a double feeling” and “That did create some confusion” (see appendix, 05’55", 08’14"). Overall, her feedback illustrates that integrating facilitation and educational guidance is experienced as inherently challenging, thereby substantiating the identified tension as a core dynamic of the interaction.

Closing the loop: a 360-degree overview

The table, as shown in the appendix, integrates the three feedback perspectives—self-supervision, group supervision, and member check—aligned chronologically with the transcript. The table visualises how meaning was progressively co-constructed across successive reflective rounds, completing the 360-degree supervision process.

Discussion

This illustrative self-study suggests that organising supervision as a 360-degree process—combining self-supervision, group supervision (OASE), and client-directed member reflection—adds qualitative depth to SFS. Rather than relying on a single interpretative lens, the case demonstrates how multiple feedback loops can illuminate blind spots, stabilise effective practices, and surface latent tensions. Self-supervision initiated presession change, group supervision amplified resources while perturbing taken-for-granted patterns, and member reflection/check introduced a client-validated perspective that recalibrated earlier interpretations. Together, these loops created a layered learning ecology in which professional development emerged not from correction alone, but from iterative sense-making across perspectives.

Within this configuration, ‘being Mitchified’ is best understood as a possible phenomenological by-product of resource-oriented, autopoietic learning. The case shows moments in which the educator⇄supervisee experienced expansion—greater clarity about balancing facilitation and gatekeeping, increased confidence in integrating both roles, and renewed awareness of relational alignment.

At the same time, the student’s feedback nuances any romanticised reading: what felt expansive to the supervisee sometimes coexisted with residual uncertainty for the student. This observation does not imply a unique property of this interaction. As with all communication, meaning and impact are inherently relational and co-constructed between participants. In this sense, Mitchification should not be interpreted as an individual state achieved by the supervisor, but as a lived experience that emerges within the interaction.

Mitchification is therefore best treated as a sensitising concept that helps to explore how supervisory encounters may be experienced as generative or expansive for some participants, while remaining ambiguous or incomplete for others. It is analytically useful for examining supervisory impact, but it should not be taken as a normative benchmark of ‘successful’ supervision.

The inclusion of client-directed member reflection raises important questions about power asymmetry. Although the student had graduated at the time of the reflection—reducing formal evaluative dependency—the historical teacher-student relationship may still have shaped what was said or left unsaid. This potential hesitation was explicitly discussed during the member reflection, yet cannot be entirely ruled out. Inviting the student into the live group supervision might have strengthened dialogical immediacy but also risked socially desirable responding or ‘pleasing’ behaviour. The chosen sequencing thus reflects an ethical trade-off between authenticity and safety. Future applications of 360-degree supervision should continue to critically examine how power relations influence feedback, even within ostensibly collaborative and SF frames. At the same time, the impact of such asymmetries may partly depend on how client-directed member reflection is positioned within the supervisory process. When framed not as an evaluation of the student but as constructive feedback intended to support the educator⇄supervisee’s reflective learning, the interaction may shift towards a more collaborative epistemic partnership. In this configuration, the student is recognised as the expert of the experiential content of the learning process, while the educator⇄supervisee retains expertise in facilitating the reflective process. Such a framing may reduce tendencies toward socially desirable or ‘pleasing’ responses and reinforce the idea of supervision as a jointly constructed learning endeavour.

A central empirical insight of this case concerns the persistent tension between gatekeeping and an SF stance. Notably, the student herself recognised this tension and articulated that, while the conversation felt safe and autonomy-supportive, she sometimes desired clearer guidance regarding evaluative expectations. This shared recognition suggests that integrating SFS within institutional contexts requires transparent communication about the boundaries of the educational framework. From an SF perspective, this involves distinguishing between non-negotiable requirements of the programme and the collaborative exploration of how students can meet those expectations. When this distinction is made explicit, facilitation and gatekeeping need not be in conflict. Rather than being inherently fragile, their alignment depends largely on how clearly these domains are communicated and negotiated within the supervisory conversation, which—like all professional interactions—remains context-sensitive.

Several implications for future inquiry emerge:

  1. How does 360-degree SFS influence supervisees’ professional learning, self-efficacy, and reflexivity across different educational and healthcare contexts?

  2. How do students or clients experience the balance between SF collaboration and gatekeeping within supervisory conversations, and which interactional practices enhance both clarity and autonomy?

  3. In what ways do power asymmetries shape client-directed member reflection in 360-degree supervision, and how can this feedback process be organised to maximise authenticity, safety, and usefulness?

Overall, this case invites further empirical and conceptual exploration of supervision as a multi-voiced, relationally negotiated practice in which expansion is possible—but never guaranteed.

Conclusion

This article has presented an illustrative single-case self-study of a 360-degree SFS process in a higher education context. By integrating self-supervision, SF group supervision (OASE), and client-directed member reflection, the study demonstrates how professional learning can be generated from an everyday consultation when subjected to structured, multi-perspectival feedback.

The findings suggest that 360-degree supervision may enhance reflexivity, relational awareness, and clarity regarding the tension between facilitation and gatekeeping. Rather than positioning Mitchification as the goal of supervision, the case frames it as a possible experiential by-product of resource-oriented, autopoietic learning processes within SFS. At the same time, the student’s feedback underscores that expansion for the supervisee does not automatically translate into clarity for the student, particularly within evaluative educational contexts.

By foregrounding client-directedness and explicitly addressing power asymmetry, this study contributes to ongoing discussions about how SFS can be responsibly integrated into institutional settings that require both collaboration and accountability. The case invites further inquiry into how multi-voiced supervision can support professionals in leaving conversations not diminished by correction alone, but strengthened through relationally attuned, context-sensitive learning.

Acknowledgements

The author sincerely thanks the student who generously participated in this project and invested time and openness in the member reflection process. At the student’s request, she remains anonymous.

Gratitude is also extended to fellow trainees and to the supervisor, Myriam Le Fevere de Ten Hove, at the Korzybski Institute, for their valuable contributions during the group supervision session. Particular thanks are due to the supervisor for her careful and critical review of the manuscript.

The author also wishes to thank his colleague, Justine Verstraete, for her contribution to the descriptive analysis of the member reflection data.

Artificial intelligence (AI) was used solely for the purpose of sentence editing and linguistic refinement. All ideas, analyses, interpretations, and substantive content are the original work of the author.

Funding

No funding was received for the research leading to this publication and/or publication of this article.

Conflict of interest

No conflict of interest.