What Makes a Great Physio—And What Yoga Teachers Might Learn From It

Knowledge, expertise, and experience: the classic trio we tend to look for when we seek out a physiotherapist. But are they enough? Or perhaps more importantly—are they the right things to prioritise?

A recent study by Kleiner et al. (2023) explored what people actually value in their physiotherapy care. Not what looks good on paper, but what truly makes a difference in the room, in the relationship, and in the process of recovery. And while technical skill and current knowledge certainly have their place, they weren’t the only—or even the most talked about—qualities that mattered.

For anyone navigating physio care, the study offers a helpful lens: what should we be looking for? And for those of us in adjacent fields, like yoga teaching, it holds up a gentle mirror. Because when we work with people’s bodies, we’re also working with their trust, their nervous systems, and their sense of safety. And sometimes, we might benefit from shifting our focus—from what we know to how we show up.

The study surfaced six core themes that shaped people’s experience of good care.

One was responsiveness—being present, listening carefully, and adapting to someone’s needs in real time. Rather than relying on standardised routines or outdated protocols, the emphasis was on tuning in and adjusting accordingly. It’s about putting the person before the method, and recognising that connection is a foundation for effective support.

Another was ethical grounding—qualities like honesty, reliability, integrity, and clear boundaries. People appreciated transparency, even when the truth was difficult, and valued practitioners who earned their trust not by showcasing their own skills, but by demonstrating care and professionalism over time.

Communication also played a central role. That didn’t just mean explaining things clearly—it meant being understood. It meant avoiding jargon, fear-based language, or information overload. It meant listening actively and making space for questions. And it meant offering knowledge in a way that empowered people, instead of guarding it as if expertise only belonged to the expert.

Closely related was the theme of caring—not as a vague sentiment, but as a felt quality. People described valuing warmth, empathy, friendliness, and reassurance. They responded to those who took the time to understand them, not just their symptoms. A strong therapeutic relationship, built on kindness and respect, often helped people feel supported and seen.

Of course, competence was important too. But this wasn’t just about qualifications or years of experience—it was about staying informed, using evidence-based approaches, and reasoning clearly. People wanted to feel confident in their physio’s knowledge, but not at the expense of openness, humility, or the willingness to keep learning.

And then there was collaboration—both with the person receiving care and, when needed, with other professionals. This wasn’t about being the sole authority, but about creating a partnership. Sometimes that meant adapting plans, referring out, or working alongside others for the best possible outcome. The emphasis was on teamwork, not territory.

As yoga teachers, we might not work in clinical settings, but many of us hold space for people navigating pain, uncertainty, or healing. We, too, build relationships around trust, movement, and communication. And so these qualities—responsiveness, ethics, communication, care, competence, collaboration—offer us something to aspire to.

Because in the end, what makes someone good at their job isn’t just what they know—it’s how they make people feel, how well they listen, how clearly they communicate, and how willing they are to work with someone, not just on them. That’s true in physio. And it’s just as true in yoga.

The takeaway? Whether you’re a physio, a yoga teacher, or someone simply trying to feel better in your body, the real magic isn’t just in the knowledge. It’s in how we share it. With responsiveness. With care. With clear words and warm presence. And always, always, with the person—not the protocol—at the heart of it all.