Looking in the Mirror With the Lights On
Ego as our greatest liability
If the last decade of American politics has taught me anything (it’s taught me a few things, don’t worry!) it’s that an unchecked ego is one of the greatest liabilities we can carry.
This reality first shook me when Ruth Bader Ginsburg died in 2020. Certainly because of what it meant for the future of the country and the change of power in highest court, but also, because she didn’t heed council to step down while there was greater certainly that her position could be replaced with someone who would share her values and commitments. That someone so intelligent, so lauded, so dedicated to justice and women’s rights, would risk it all instead of stepping down from her position of great power and importance.
It’s easy to see the faults and hubris of the people we disagree with, but this one hit home. The cost of ego can come for any of us. Beware.
Since then, as well as long before then, we’ve all seen countless examples of people’s desire to stay in the center of power and relevance at the cost of their ideals, their communities, their constituents, their legacy, their authentic selves, or the people they see as a threat. Over and over, we see an aversion or hostility to critique. We see money and influence as the metric to validate choices. We see lies constructed to justify abuse and violence against others.
When we lose control of our ego, we become a servant of our own importance. What could be more risky?
I’d like to normalize that we all have an ego. Not just as defined by Freud and taught to reluctant high schoolers as the part of the psyche that sees the self in contrast to others or to the world — the self that compares.
But we all have an ego in that we all, at times, get butt-hurt because our sense of our own importance takes a hit and we want to blame someone else for it. Or we want to deny our mistakes because they threaten the idea we hold of ourselves as perfect. Or we want assurance that we are the person we have crafted in our minds, so we’ll look to achievements, praise, social media, power over others, or our own imaginations, in hopes to find a kind mirror with low, flattering lighting.
Because how can we manage the ego, the hungry little sh*t that it can be, if we don’t accept that it exists? If we pretend we have no ego, we relegate it to a dark corner where we cannot see it sulking. And we continue to avoid anything that will give us an honest reflection.
It’s a liability to ourselves and to others, because when we find ourselves in service of an idea of the self as great, more important, more deserving, we will do what it takes to maintain that idea. Enter, once again, politics.
But also in our personal lives, an unchecked ego is a liability to our relationships when we can’t own our mistakes and apologize. It’s a liability to our growth when we stop thinking we have more to learn. It’s a liability to people around us because we brush them aside. It’s a liability to our peace, because we cannot accept ourselves as we are — flawed, defensive, at times unknowledgeable, jealous, or stuck in comparison — alongside all of the wonderful traits we have as well. What if we committed to looking in the mirror with the lights all the way on?
So in moments when my ego arrises, I am trying to accept its existence and be curious about it. What is it trying to protect?
I am finding freedom in the dual truth that we are both irreplaceable and also absolutely replaceable. Do I bring insight and ideas that are unique to my work? Yes, but so would someone else. Do I bring joy and laughter to my friendships and relationships that is specific to me? Yes! But, if our paths hadn’t crossed, maybe these people would have someone else in their lives that brings their own charm and delight. Freedom to be deeply valuable, but not more valuable than someone else.
I deeply admire people who step down, who risk their reputations or safety for what is right, or don’t pursue the allure of status from the start — maybe at great cost to themselves, but they determined that the other path was far, far costlier.
What if our leaders intentionally made a point to stay in touch with the reality that there are other well qualified people who could do their job at least as well as them? It would likely drive them to do a better job, listen more, and be willing to share or step down from power when the time comes to pass the torch. What if the people with the most power and influence could recognize that the high of feeling important often comes at the expense of other people?
Easier said than done, but I don’t think we can afford the alternative.