The Compass and the Rulebook being a Healer

In the mental health and wellness professions, we toss around the terms "Code of Ethics" and "Code of Conduct" constantly. For a long time, I treated them as synonyms, just two different ways of saying "don't get sued."

But as I deepen my work in psychophysiology and neurofeedback, I’ve come to realize that treating them as the same thing is a mistake. They are not duplicates; they are counterparts. And understanding the difference between them is the only way to navigate the complex, often contradictory space of being a healer.

The 'Why' vs. The 'How'

The most helpful distinction I’ve found is simple: Ethics governs decision-making, while Conduct governs actions.

• A Code of Ethics is your internal compass. It is abstract and value-based. It asks: Do I value integrity? Do I prioritize emotional safety? Is this fair?

• A Code of Conduct is the external rulebook. It is concrete and enforceable. It asks: Did you show up on time? Did you follow the dress code? Did you maintain the correct distance?

One gives us the "Why" (our values), and the other gives us the "How" (our behavior). As Birt (2025) points out, conduct is easy to monitor, but ethics requires deep, constant self-reflection.

The Cultural Tension: When Care Feels Like a Violation

This distinction becomes critical when we look at how different cultures define "care."

As a woman of color, my ethical compass is rooted in connection, community, and warmth. In my culture, offering food, giving a hug, or sharing space are not just polite gestures; they are fundamental expressions of healing.

However, the standard clinical Code of Conduct often views these behaviors with suspicion. In a strict clinical setting, a hug can be seen as a boundary crossing; sharing food can be seen as a dual relationship.

This creates a tension between what feels ethically aligned with my soul and what is behaviorally allowed by my profession. If I strictly follow the "conduct" without examining my "ethics," I risk becoming a cold, detached clinician. But if I follow my "ethics" without regarding "conduct," I risk losing my license.

The solution isn't to choose one over the other. It’s to find the balance. Organizations like the Black Social Workers Association have been vital for me in finding this middle path, learning how to remain culturally authentic while adhering to professional standards.

Creating a Container for Mind-Body Medicine

As I integrate somatic work, meditation, and neurofeedback into my practice, clear conduct actually protects the ethical space.

Because I am entering spaces that involve touch (placing sensors) or deep states of relaxation (meditation), the potential for vulnerability is high. By being rigorous about the "boring" stuff, cancellation policies, social media privacy, and clear consent forms, I create a safe container.

When the boundaries (conduct) are solid, the client feels safe enough to go deep (ethics).

I’ve learned that I don't need to hide behind a generic company policy. Whether I am using a platform like Rula or my own private documentation, I need to communicate my specific boundaries. Transparency isn't just a rule; it’s the first step in building a therapeutic relationship that honors both the professional and the human.

References

• Birt, J. (2025). Code of ethics versus code of conduct: Differences and tips. Indeed.

• Nieweler, A. (2023). Code of conduct versus code of ethics: A comparative analysis. Whistleblower Security.