Love Is Punk: Resistance, Compassion, & MI

On Sunday evening, I had the joy of listening and dancing to David Byrne in concert at St Anne’s Park in Dublin. Somewhere between the music, the energy of the crowd and the pouring rain, I found myself unexpectedly moved by a simple reflection he shared with the audience.

Byrne spoke about a comment made by actor and director John Cameron Mitchell:

“Not too long ago I read an interview with the actor and director, John Cameron Mitchell, and he said that love and kindness are the most punk things you can do right now.

It was a little confusing for me; I thought, ‘Oh, loud, angry music, love and kindness,’ I didn’t quite get the connection. And then I realised: yeah, he’s right. Love and kindness are a form of resistance.”

Since Sunday evening, I have found myself returning to the phrase time and again, reflecting upon its possible meaning and the ways in which it resonates with Motivational Interviewing and the person-centred helping tradition.

As I explored the origins of the quote further, I learned that Byrne had shared the same reflection earlier during an appearance at the Coachella Festival. Yet hearing it spoken in person, on a rain-soaked evening in Dublin, gave it a particular resonance. Perhaps it was the times we are living through, or perhaps it was the simplicity and conviction with which he delivered it. Either way, the phrase lingered.

It is a striking observation.

For many of us, the word “punk” evokes images of rebellion, disruption, protest, and defiance. We associate it with challenging authority, rejecting conformity, and refusing to accept the status quo. Love and kindness seem, at least on the surface, to belong to an entirely different world.

Yet Byrne’s realisation invites us to look deeper. Perhaps what makes something punk is not its volume, its anger, or its appearance. Perhaps what makes something punk is its willingness to resist the dominant forces of its time.

Viewed through that lens, love and kindness begin to look surprisingly radical.

We live in an age characterised by increasing polarisation. Public discourse often rewards outrage over understanding. Social media platforms amplify certainty rather than curiosity. Nuance is frequently lost in favour of quick judgements. People are encouraged to choose sides, defend positions, and dismiss those who think differently.

Against that backdrop, choosing to remain compassionate becomes an act of resistance.

Choosing to listen rather than attack becomes an act of resistance.

Choosing curiosity over certainty becomes an act of resistance.

Choosing kindness in a culture that often rewards contempt becomes an act of resistance.

This is where the connection with Motivational Interviewing and the wider person-centred helping tradition becomes particularly compelling.

Carl Rogers challenged many of the assumptions that dominated helping professions during the twentieth century. Rather than viewing the professional as the expert who diagnosed, interpreted, and directed change, he proposed something profoundly different. He suggested that people possess an inherent tendency towards growth, development, and healing when offered the right relational conditions. Empathy, acceptance, genuineness, and respect were not simply techniques. They were expressions of a fundamental belief in human potential.

Motivational Interviewing emerged from a similar challenge to conventional wisdom. Rather than confronting, persuading, warning, or directing people towards change, MI invites practitioners to collaborate. It asks us to trust that people already possess motivations, strengths, values, and wisdom that can guide their development. The role of the practitioner is not to impose change but to create the conditions in which change can emerge.

This stance can sometimes appear gentle, even soft.

Yet it is remarkably courageous.

To remain empathic when someone is angry.

To stay curious when someone disagrees.

To respect autonomy when we desperately want a person to choose differently.

To believe in someone’s capacity for growth when they have stopped believing in themselves.

These are not passive acts. They require discipline, restraint, and conviction.

They are forms of resistance.

Yet perhaps the most interesting connection between Byrne’s reflection and Motivational Interviewing emerges when we consider another word that practitioners use every day: resistance.

Across health, social care, education, counselling, coaching, and criminal justice settings, practitioners frequently describe individuals as resistant.

The client is resistant to treatment.

The patient is resistant to advice.

The service user is resistant to support.

The young person is resistant to engagement.

Almost always, the word carries negative connotations. Resistance is often viewed as a barrier, an obstacle, or evidence that the individual is unwilling, difficult, or uncooperative.

But what if we have misunderstood resistance?

If love and kindness can be understood as forms of resistance, then resistance itself cannot automatically be negative.

Historically, resistance has often represented something deeply admirable. Resistance movements have opposed injustice. They have challenged oppression. They have protected dignity, freedom, identity, and human rights.

Resistance is not necessarily evidence of dysfunction.

Sometimes it is evidence that something important is being defended.

This perspective invites us to reconsider the behaviours we encounter in helping relationships.

From a person-centred perspective, behaviour makes sense when viewed from within the individual’s frame of reference. What appears irrational from the outside often becomes understandable once we understand the person’s experiences, fears, values, and circumstances.

The individual who declines treatment may be resisting being reduced to a diagnosis.

The young person who rejects support may be resisting another experience of being controlled.

The parent who becomes defensive may be resisting feelings of shame and inadequacy.

The person who continues using substances may be resisting emotional pain that feels unbearable.

The individual who avoids difficult conversations may be resisting vulnerability because previous experiences have taught them that vulnerability is dangerous.

The behaviour itself may create difficulties. It may prevent growth, damage relationships, or increase suffering. Yet the behaviour often serves a meaningful purpose. It is frequently an attempt to protect something precious. Dignity. Identity. Safety. Autonomy. Hope. Self-respect.

Seen in this way, what practitioners often call resistance begins to look very different.

Rather than asking, “Why is this person resisting?” we might ask, “What is this person trying to protect?”

That question changes everything.

It moves us from judgement to curiosity.

From frustration to understanding.

From opposition to partnership.

This shift lies at the heart of Motivational Interviewing. Resistance becomes information rather than opposition. It becomes communication rather than defiance. It becomes a doorway into understanding rather than a barrier to progress.

There is a beautiful paradox here.

David Byrne suggests that love and kindness are forms of resistance because they challenge the prevailing culture of division and cynicism.

At the same time, many of the people we meet in our professional roles are engaged in their own forms of resistance. They may be resisting shame, despair, hopelessness, marginalisation, loss, or being defined by a diagnosis, a label, a court report, or a professional opinion.

The practitioner and the client are not standing on opposite sides of resistance.

In many ways, they are engaged in parallel acts of resistance.

The practitioner resists judgement. Resists the temptation to control. Resists the urge to be right. Resists reducing a person to a problem.

The client resists threats to identity, autonomy, dignity, and safety.

 

Both are attempting to protect something that matters.

Both are acting in service of values.

Both are profoundly human.

Perhaps this is why Motivational Interviewing remains so relevant in the times we live in. Its spirit of Partnership, Acceptance, Compassion, and Empowerment offers more than a communication style. It offers a different way of understanding human beings.

It reminds us that beneath behaviours we find values. Beneath opposition we often find protection. Beneath resistance we frequently find meaning. And beneath every helping conversation lies the possibility that understanding another person’s struggle may be more transformative than trying to win an argument with it.

If Byrne is right, and love and kindness are forms of resistance, then perhaps Motivational Interviewing represents one practical expression of that resistance.

Every empathic reflection.

Every act of genuine listening.

Every effort to understand before being understood.

Every decision to honour autonomy.

Every moment of compassion in the face of suffering.

Each becomes a small but significant act of defiance against a world that increasingly invites us towards judgement, certainty, and division.

Love is punk.

Kindness is resistance.

And perhaps what we often call resistance in others is not a problem to be overcome, but an invitation to understand what matters most to them. When we meet that resistance with curiosity, compassion, and respect, we do more than facilitate change.

We honour our shared humanity.