Is it okay to hug?

Published by Professional Social Work magazine, 14 February, 2023

“Your hugs save my life.” These were the words of the person who set up the Highland Users Group (HUG) as he addressed a social work conference in Edinburgh some years ago.  

The presenter told a story of how he had spent most of his adult life in various secure mental health settings and how the occasional hug and physical contact from a few of his carers helped him endure the sterile, isolating and unconnected world of mental health institutions.

The presentation resonated with me as much then as it still does today.

I love a good hug, not a polite embrace mind you, but a proper hug. As a child and as an adult I hugged my mom and dad throughout their lives. My mom died in my arms whilst I hugged her. My earliest memories of my wife was of her lovely hugs when we met on each date and then again as we parted. I hug my children, my family and most of my friends. On more than one occasion, at both happy and sad times, I have nearly hugged the breath out of my wife and children. When leaving my daughter behind in Canada for a study year, I had to be unpeeled from her as I hung on with a bear hug.

When I worked in a semi-residential youth centre the young people there couldn’t stop hugging anything that moved!

Over the years, being a man working in a world of vulnerable children and adults, I have often had to parry or skirt around unsolicited incoming hugs for fear of appearing unprofessional and being too touchy-feely. Occasionally, as I get older and more at ease with life as a social worker, I might reciprocate an advancing hug with a swift embrace, but not what I would call a hug, lest it be misinterpreted as being more than it is.

I think I can honestly say that with my professional hat on I have never initiated a hug with a member of the opposite sex for a raft of self-protection reasons, which is a shame but necessary. At the same time on more than one occasion (allowing for suitable witnesses) I have hugged the bejasus out of some of my male colleagues. Was that wrong?   

We talk a lot in our world of the importance of being connected with people and promoting relationship-based practice, which of course is important and hopefully shows that we care about the person we are working with. However, I continue to think that some people, at certain times, need more than words; they need physical connection as well. They need physical touch, they need a hug.

Whooah…I hear many of you say, steady on, we know where this is heading: oppression, exploitation, disciplinary procedures, tribunals, tabloid headlines... Whose needs are we meeting here? #metoo, #touchyfeely, etc.   

But does it need to be? Should it be? Will it always be this way?

As parts of the caring professions become ever more managerial, technical, administrative and devoid of human contact, are we ignoring some of the most basic needs which some people have at a time of crisis? I know that at times when I am upset, frightened, hurting or just confused a hug is better than all the words of reassurance anyone can offer.

There was a time, not so long ago, when it was frowned upon if a foster carer hugged a child they were caring for. Worse still, if the foster carer should ever tell the child that they loved them. Thankfully, times change and the more enlightened now see that as perfectly acceptable and an important part of a child’s development that they know people can love them, that they are loveable and will be loved by their temporary carers until they move onto another placement, where they will continue to be loved.

Some of you may recall a piece in PSW magazine in September 2017 when Dr Peter Unwin wrote a poem about a speech I gave in Westminster to celebrate World Social Work Day, where I spoke about the personal costs of hugging a traumatised little boy and telling him that I loved him.  

Most recently, one of my new female colleague’s pet was very poorly. She was inconsolable so I sent her home. As I walked her to her car, she began crying again. Instinctively, I offered a brief sideways quick hug, when I suspect what she really needed was a good hug and shoulder to cry on. If she had been a man I wouldn’t have thought twice.   

What do we think about this, as social workers? I am genuinely interested, because I am sure I am not alone in trying to navigate this important but complicated part of our professional world.

Big hugs, Eddie

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