Introduction: A Noble but Misguided Search
One of the most admirable qualities I see in movement professionals—whether they are physical therapists, chiropractors, personal trainers, or coaches—is the desire to go deeper than surface-level symptom management. They want to move beyond “just rub where it hurts” or “just ice the swollen joint.” They want to understand how the whole system interacts, how posture, breathing, gait, strength, and environment play together.
That instinct is right. It reflects curiosity, compassion, and a refusal to reduce human beings to pain charts and pill prescriptions.
But in this noble pursuit, many fall into a seductive trap: the myth of the root cause. The idea that somewhere in your body—if we only dig deep enough, test enough, release enough, strengthen enough—we’ll uncover a single switch that explains everything. And once we flip that switch, you’ll be “fixed.”
On the surface, this message feels empowering. In reality, it sets up a false expectation that undermines growth, creates dependence on the professional, and presents an unrealistic picture of how complex systems—like the human body—actually work.
What We Mean by “Root Cause”
In health and fitness, “root cause” usually refers to the idea that symptoms in one area (say, knee pain) originate from dysfunction elsewhere (say, hip weakness, poor ankle mobility, or even breathing mechanics). Instead of chasing pain, the professional says, “Let’s find the root.”
This sounds more sophisticated than just treating symptoms, and in some cases, it’s partially true. Your knee pain may indeed be influenced by your hip strength or your gait pattern. But when we elevate this into a single cause–single cure model, we risk making complex systems appear simpler than they are.
The reality is:
Multiple factors always contribute.
The same symptom in two people rarely shares the exact same “cause.”
What looks like a cause in one context may be an effect in another.
The human body is not a car with one broken part—it’s an adaptive, evolving ecosystem.
Why the Root Cause Narrative Persists
If this approach oversimplifies reality, why do so many professionals use it? Several reasons:
It makes us look smart. Identifying a hidden link—“your shoulder pain actually comes from your ribcage”—sounds insightful. It gives the impression we’re seeing what others missed.
It sells hope. Telling someone, “We’ve found the cause” creates a sense of certainty and reassurance in a situation often defined by fear and confusion.
It creates dependency. If the professional is the one who can uncover your “real” problem, you need them to interpret and treat it. That dynamic can be good for business, even if unintentionally.
It’s psychologically satisfying. Both professionals and clients like clean stories. Humans crave cause-and-effect explanations, even when the truth is far messier.
The Hidden Problem: It’s Still Chasing Pain
Many movement professionals pride themselves on not chasing pain. Instead of rubbing the sore spot, they look elsewhere. But chasing a “root cause” is just another form of chasing—just with more elaborate reasoning.
Instead of asking, “How can we help you move better, build resilience, and grow over time?” we ask, “Where is the hidden culprit we can fix?”
It’s still a fix-it mindset. It still assumes that once we solve “the thing,” all will be well. And that’s rarely how recovery—or human development—works.
The Illusion of Certainty
One of the most damaging side effects of the root cause myth is that it presents certainty where none exists.
“The problem is your left glute isn’t firing.”
“Your diaphragm is stuck.”
“Your pelvis is rotated forward.”
“Your jaw is driving your shoulder pain.”
These statements sound authoritative, but they often reduce a multidimensional problem to a single mechanism. They give the professional confidence and the client comfort—but both are illusions.
Because what happens when the “fix” doesn’t fix?
The client feels broken: “If that wasn’t the cause, maybe I’m unfixable.”
The professional doubles down: “We just haven’t found the real root cause yet.”
The cycle continues, reinforcing dependency and disappointment.
Complexity Isn’t a Bug—It’s the System
The human body is not broken for being complex; it is designed that way. Redundancy, variability, and adaptability are features, not flaws.
Think of movement like an orchestra. If one instrument is slightly out of tune, the performance doesn’t collapse. Other instruments compensate. Sometimes compensation becomes dysfunctional, but often it’s what keeps us going.
To say “your problem is coming from X” misses the point. It may contribute, but the body is more like a web than a chain. Tugging one strand changes tension across the entire net, but no single strand explains the whole structure.
The Trap of Professional Heroism
For movement professionals, chasing the root cause can easily morph into professional heroism: “I’m the one who finally figured out what’s wrong with you.”
This is seductive. It positions the professional as the savior and the client as the rescued. But it robs the client of agency.
Instead of empowering someone to engage in a process of exploration, strength building, and adaptation, it keeps them waiting for the expert to solve the puzzle. This delays the very growth we claim to promote.
A Process-Oriented Alternative
So, what’s the alternative? If we abandon the hunt for root causes, are we just left treating symptoms and shrugging at complexity? Not at all.
The alternative is a process-oriented mindset—one rooted in growth, learning, and resilience. This means:
Shifting from causes to contributors. Instead of “the root cause is your hip,” we say, “Your hip strength may be one of several contributors. Let’s train it while also addressing other factors.”
Valuing adaptability over fixes. The goal isn’t to “fix” the body back to some ideal state but to expand your capacity to handle variability.
Making uncertainty explicit. Instead of pretending we have certainty, we can say, “There are multiple possibilities. We’ll experiment, see how your body responds, and adjust.”
Emphasizing skill development. Rehab isn’t just about tissue healing; it’s about building new skills of awareness, movement, strength, and recovery.
Restoring agency. The client isn’t a puzzle to be solved but an active learner in their own process.
The Risk of Storytelling Gone Wrong
Humans love stories. Professionals who identify a root cause are telling a compelling story: “This one thing explains your pain.”
But good stories can be dangerous if they’re not true. Clients walk away repeating the narrative: “My pelvis is rotated, and that’s why I can’t run.” Years later, they still cling to it—even if their pelvis is no longer rotated, even if that was never the full picture.
We must be careful. The stories we tell can liberate people or trap them.
Complexity as a Growth Opportunity
Instead of fearing complexity, we can reframe it as an opportunity. Complexity means there is always another way forward. If one strategy doesn’t work, we can try another. If one pattern breaks down, another can be built.
This mindset doesn’t give us the comfort of certainty, but it gives us the strength of adaptability. And adaptability is far more protective than any single fix.
Where Integration Matters
Now, let’s be clear: the integrated nature of the body does matter. Breathing affects posture, which affects gait. Foot position affects knee loading, which affects hip torque. The nervous system constantly coordinates these relationships.
But acknowledging integration isn’t the same as proclaiming a root cause. Integration means we have to respect complexity—not collapse it into a single origin story.
When professionals say, “Your shoulder pain comes from your diaphragm,” they’re not wrong to see connections. They’re wrong to stop there, as if the body can be reduced to a neat diagram.
The False Security of Fixes
One of the most overlooked problems with the root cause myth is that it fosters a false sense of security.
Clients may believe: “Once my pelvis is aligned, I’ll never hurt again.”
But then pain returns, and they feel betrayed—by their body, by their professional, by the whole process.
Pain, dysfunction, and limitation are not signs of failure. They are part of living in a complex, adaptive system. They are invitations to keep learning and adjusting. Framing them as “the root cause wasn’t really fixed” misses the larger lesson: there is no finish line, only ongoing growth.
Reclaiming the Role of the Professional
If not to find root causes, what is the role of the movement professional? I would argue:
Be a guide, not a savior. We are here to guide clients through uncertainty, not to deliver certainty we don’t actually have.
Be a coach, not a mechanic. The body isn’t a broken machine to be repaired but a living system to be trained and supported.
Be a teacher, not an oracle. Our value lies in teaching skills and perspectives, not proclaiming diagnoses.
When we embrace this role, we stop pretending to know the unknowable and start fostering true resilience.
The Courage to Say “I Don’t Know”
Perhaps the most radical—and empowering—thing a professional can say is: “I don’t know for sure, but let’s explore together.”
This shifts the dynamic. Instead of dependence on an expert’s secret knowledge, the client sees themselves as an active partner. Together, you build experiments, observe outcomes, and refine.
Uncertainty is not weakness. It is honesty. And it is the foundation of authentic learning.
Moving Beyond the Root Cause Myth
To summarize:
The search for a root cause is well-intentioned but misguided.
It replaces symptom chasing with fix chasing.
It fosters false certainty and client dependence.
It oversimplifies a system that is inherently complex.
It distracts us from the real opportunity: process-oriented growth.
When we stop looking for the root cause, we don’t abandon people to their pain. We invite them into a richer, more resilient process of becoming. We empower them not with answers, but with agency.
Conclusion: Trading Illusions for Agency
The myth of the root cause persists because it is seductive. It promises clarity where life offers complexity, fixes where life requires growth, and certainty where life demands adaptability.
But when we cling to that myth, we rob ourselves and our clients of something far greater: the chance to embrace the messy, beautiful process of learning and evolving.
The truth is, there is no root cause waiting to be uncovered. There is only the living process of becoming stronger, more adaptable, and more aware.
As professionals, our highest calling is not to deliver the illusion of certainty but to guide others into this process—where they can reclaim agency, build resilience, and discover that the journey itself is the destination.