Every Saturday, and Sunday for about 12 weeks as the nights lengthen and autumn gives way to winter Strictly Come Dancing is on our screens. For three months the prime slot on a Saturday night on BBC TV is filled with professional and celebrity dancers going on ‘a journey’. An average of 5.4 million people regularly tune in.

In recent years it’s suffered some of its worst PR crises with stories of alleged drug abuse, bullying, inappropriate sexual comments and behaviour. And yet, we’re all tuned in, again, prepared to forget and forgive in a way that is uncommon in our punitive and trolling age.

As a therapist I’ve asked myself what are some of the reasons so many viewers, of all ages, are glued to their screens for the glittery, formulaic, cliche-ridden extravaganza.

What immediately comes to mind in an age of intense uncertainty globally (wars raging), nationally (wild Budget speculation, widespread job insecurity) and personally (worst flu epidemic apparently on its way) is that Strictly is enormously dependable.

Audiences remain steadfast to Strictly because it is able to convey its own stability. The theme music is unchanging, Dave Arch the band leader and sometime ‘heart throb’ for presenter Claudia Winkleman, never seems to miss a beat. Claudia and her Strictly partner, Tess Daly, convey that strong, happy and enduring relationships can exist. Every celebrity contestant has a chance to improve every week, to progress despite a myriad of setbacks. We are in a world of hope.

The stakes are high for the contestants, future starry career developments beckon or reputations are restored. However, there are few losses associated with an appearance on Strictly. The judges may wield tremendous power on the night with their 0-10 paddles, but the ultimate power is with the viewer. We can decide who is to continue to be ‘proud’ of themselves or their partner, who is to continue to work ‘really hard’ and ‘leave it all on the dance floor”. Strictly gives us some feeling of agency in a world where we often feel poked about by fate’s fickle finger.

And there is real skill on screen too. The professional dancers inspire awe – their ability to adapt from practitioner to teacher, from leader to follower depending on the dance, is often a complete joy to behold. They’ve always been a diverse group, racially, in terms of sex and gender identity, though perhaps not in physical size.

This series, as ever, there are f-a-b-u-l-o-u-s moments (as adored judge and pantomime baddie Craig Revel Horwood would say). There are moments of heartbreak and joy. The entirely respectful and supportive way the Italian dancer Vito Coppola worked with Ellie Goldstein, a model with Downs Syndrome, no doubt brought tears to many households. There is kindness on show.

With the news that Claudia and Tess are leaving Strictly Come Dancing, there is an unwelcome element of uncertainty about the show’s future. Will a new home have to be found for judges Dame Shirley, Motsi, Anton and Craig’s sentimentality? But that’s not for now. There are still several weeks left of the 2025 series to enjoy, including next week’s trip to the ballroom dance world’s nirvana, Blackpool.

The consulting room is a space where, with compassion, we embrace our capacity for positive change, and with weekly sessions at the same time on the same day every week we strive to provide consistency for clients. We often focus on dreams. We can challenge the people we work with in order that they discover what has previously been hidden, or repressed. So, on reflection, there are plenty of ways in which the therapeutic experience is really quite like Strictly, perhaps that’s part of its enormous appeal.