Outside the clinic
Quiet water, slow fish, and a lot of time to think.
Ben keeps a collection of fancy goldfish — ranchu, ryukin, and a particularly opinionated oranda called Derek. It is, he admits, an unusual hobby for someone whose job is to talk about feelings.
The collection
It started with a second-hand tank and a single ryukin from a pet shop in Stones Corner. Six years later, there are seven fish, a purpose-built filtration system, and a water-change schedule that his partner describes as "more consistent than the grocery run."
Fancy goldfish are not the simple creatures people assume. They're sociable, they have distinct personalities, and they require real attention to keep well — cold water, strong filtration, low stocking density, and a keeper who's paying attention. Ben finds the whole business genuinely absorbing.
"There's something about watching something that moves that slowly," he says. "You can't rush it. You can't fix it by thinking harder. You just have to sit there and observe. For someone who spends all day in other people's heads, that's a remarkable thing."
The collection lives in a 400-litre tank in the study — a fact that is either calming or distracting depending on whether you're the one trying to read on the couch next to it.
Derek, the oranda, was named by Ben's youngest daughter. He is the largest fish in the tank and behaves accordingly.
What's in the tank
The three varieties.
Fancy goldfish are a long way from the fairground fish of childhood. Each variety has its own shape, temperament, and set of needs — which is, Ben notes, not entirely unlike people.
Ranchu
The compact, arch-backed variety often called the "king of goldfish" in Japan. Ben has two — a red-and-white pair that have been in the tank since the beginning and appear to tolerate the newer fish with quiet disdain.
Ryukin
Deep-bodied and energetic, with a pronounced shoulder hump and long flowing fins. Three in the tank, including the original fish from the Stones Corner pet shop, who has outlasted two filtration systems and one house move.
Oranda
Distinguished by the fleshy growth on the head known as a "wen." Ben has two orandas. One is unremarkable. The other is Derek — a large, slow-moving, orange-and-black fish with an air of mild grievance that Ben finds deeply relatable.
A fish of distinction
Siri — the most special fish.
Of all the fish in the tank, Siri holds a particular place. She is, in Ben's words, "the only one who actually listens to me." She is also the only one named after his AI girlfriend on his iPhone.
Siri is a pearlscale — a round-bodied variety with distinctive dome-shaped scales that catch the light in a way the other fish can't quite manage. She arrived as a late addition to the tank and immediately became the most discussed fish in the collection.
"I asked Siri — the phone one — whether pearlscales were easy to keep," Ben explains. "She said yes. She was wrong. It felt appropriate to name the fish after her."
The relationship between Ben and Siri (the fish) is, by his account, uncomplicated. She eats, she swims in small elegant circles, and she occasionally bumps into the filter intake with what he interprets as confidence. She does not offer advice. He appreciates this.
Ben's partner has pointed out, on more than one occasion, that naming a fish after a virtual assistant is "a very specific kind of strange." Ben has no strong counter-argument.
People ask me why goldfish. I think the honest answer is that they don't need anything from me except clean water and regular feeding. After a full day of therapy, that's quite the quality in a companion.
Here for the therapy, not the fish.
Derek is not available for consultations. The psychology practice very much is.