I think reading his stuff I was aware of it's historical context. I reckon he made some valid and important points, especially seeing the potential in the individual and expressing the importance of the relationship of anyone that wants to help. But as they would say where I live he then 'went off on one!' thinking that meant ONLY those things are positive.
A child's curiosity is magic, innate and exquisite but I know from experience it can be captured many ways, sometimes by answering a question, sometimes by letting a child experiment for themselves, sometimes by simply giving information that opens a whole new line of discovery. I believe as adults we are much the same.
Learning to reason and question I think are very important, to be taught by those that value independant thought and enjoy being challenged, rather than those who are offended and seek 'believers'. In it's context it's possible that at that time an approach which was so strict in shutting the counsellor up and respecting the client was needed. It certainly was an age of hero worship and almighty respect for 'experts', perhaps in that enviroment the answer was for them to stay quiet for a while and allow the client to realise their own potential.
I don't think we should lose that understanding of potential, or the respect for the 'other's' perspective, I don't think we should lose sight of how much a person can achieve alone or forget how important regarding them well is. But I don't think those elements clash with us sharing knowledge and learning, as long as we offer rather than force, as long as we encourage independant minds and discourage passive, one way learning - then I think we can enhance each other's potential.
When I was a child about 5 or 6 I asked my dad why a rain drop was the shape it was. He painstakingly gave me the correct answer, the air resistance, surface tension, from a drip to a raindrop he told me. If he had only supported my self discovery I would have waited years for the love of physics he gave me in a day. It is possibly the best memory I have of my father, a rare moment feeling utterly loved and respected - a place I instinctively knew I could challenge (something which in all other respects was a no no with my dad).
I don't believe we always get in the way, I think we are designed and meant to teach but the important part is how we do it.