
Humans are weird creatures. Capable of great kindness but also spectacularly adept at cruelty. They lie, cheat, and hurt not just out of necessity, but sometimes for the sheer thrill of it.
The truth is, most people will step on your toes and not even glance down to see if you’re bleeding. Why? Because they’re too busy tripping over their own egos, chasing approval from people who probably don’t care about them either.
I once had a friend, let’s call him Tom.
Tom would buy you a drink but wouldn’t think twice about talking trash behind your back the second you left the room.
At first, I thought, “Maybe he’s just clueless.” But when the pattern repeated itself, I realized: Tom wasn’t clueless. He knew exactly what he was doing. People like Tom aren’t anomalies—they’re the rule.
And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll stop expecting an apology.
It’s Not Your Job to Teach Them
It’s not your obligation to make people realize their mistakes. Teaching people how to be decent human beings is a wasted effort.
They’re on their own journey, and if they’re hell-bent on stumbling through life with blinders on, let them.
Some people need to hit rock bottom before they even consider looking up.
As Bukowski once wrote:
“You begin saving the world by saving one person at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.”
That one person is you.
Trying to fix others is like trying to light a wet match—it won’t catch, and all you’ll do is frustrate yourself. It’s a lesson in futility.
People Always Know What They’re Doing
Here’s the thing about repeat offenders: they’re not clueless, and they’re not stumbling through life accidentally leaving a trail of destruction behind them.
No, these people are calculated. Razor-sharp. They might wear the mask of ignorance, but underneath, they’re wielding the knife, and they know exactly where to stick it.
If someone consistently hurts you, it’s not some Freudian slip or cosmic accident. It’s not the stars misaligning or Mercury doing its backward tango. They do it because they can. Because they’ve figured out how to get away with it.
Take the co-worker who constantly undermines you in meetings. Every time you speak, they swoop in like some vulture dressed in a cheap suit, picking apart your ideas and leaving nothing but bones behind.
Or the ex who plays mind games—ghosting you one week, love-bombing you the next. They know what they’re doing. Every snub, every backhanded compliment, every icy glare—it’s deliberate, like a symphony of malice they’ve been rehearsing for years.
The Darkness of Iago
And if you think this is a modern phenomenon, let me introduce you to Iago, Shakespeare’s OG manipulator from Othello. This guy didn’t just hurt people; he engineered pain like an artist. He wasn’t some misunderstood soul. No, Iago was a storm in human form, brewing chaos for sport.
Iago didn’t trip into ruining Othello’s life by accident. He carefully planted seeds of doubt, whispering poison into Othello’s ear until the poor guy was drowning in paranoia. Why? Not because Othello wronged him, but because Iago wanted to. His motives were as flimsy as his sense of morality.
Imagine him today—he’d be the colleague who smiles at you during coffee breaks but forwards your worst emails to the boss.
The friend who listens to your problems but repeats them to someone else for a cheap laugh. Iago is timeless. His shadow walks among us, wearing different faces but pulling the same old strings.
Signs They Know What They’re Doing | How to Respond |
---|---|
They repeat the same behavior, despite apologies | Cut them off like a bad habit |
Their actions align perfectly with self-interest | Stop expecting them to care about you |
They play the victim when called out | Don’t engage; you’ll never win |
Life’s Little Iagos
Here’s the truth no one likes to admit: most people are their own Iago in someone else’s life. Maybe it’s not grand schemes of destruction, but small, petty acts of selfishness. We all have a streak of Iago in us. The difference is whether we let it run the show.
The real-life Iagos, though—they let that streak grow into a full-blown orchestra of manipulation. They’ll smile at you with teeth sharpened from years of practice, their charm so smooth you don’t even realize they’re about to hit. Hard.
What makes it worse is that they’ll act like you’re the problem when you confront them.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,” they’ll say, tilting their head like some innocent puppy.
But puppies don’t stab you in the back. People like Iago do.
The Strategy of Survival
So, what’s the strategy here? Do you wage war against every Iago you meet? Burn their metaphorical castle to the ground? Tempting, but no. That’s how you waste your energy.
The key is to recognize the signs early and walk away before they’ve set the stage for Act II of their twisted play.
Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you suffer. Don’t let them linger in your head, because that’s where they truly thrive.
In the end, you can’t stop Iagos from existing. But you can stop them from renting space in your life.
Rent’s due, and they’re evicted.
Explaining the Concept to an Apprentice
Imagine this: You’re walking down the street, and someone trips you. Once? Okay, maybe it’s an accident. Twice? Suspicious. Three times? They’re doing it on purpose.
Kid, people know when they’re causing harm. They just don’t always care.
You don’t need to stick around and play the referee. Life’s too short to waste on people who get their kicks from your misery.
Take it from me: walk away, and don’t look back.
Opposing Perspectives
Of course, not everyone agrees with this bleak assessment. Books like To Kill a Mockingbird champion the idea that people are fundamentally good, just misunderstood.
Atticus Finch would argue that even those who hurt us can be redeemed through compassion and understanding. Movies like Good Will Hunting suggest that sometimes hurtful actions come from a place of pain, and people lash out because they’re broken inside.
But here’s the rebuttal: understanding someone’s pain doesn’t justify letting them drag you down with them.
You can feel sorry for a wolf caught in a trap, but that doesn’t mean you should let it bite you.
The Science of Why People Hurt
Psychology and neuroscience have a thing or two to say about why humans hurt each other, and spoiler alert: it’s not flattering.
Narcissists: The Peacock Parade of Pain
First up, let’s yank the narcissists out from their shiny little hiding places and toss them into the spotlight.
These are the peacocks of human misery, strutting through life with their feathers puffed up like the universe owes them applause. They don’t just want attention—they demand it, and they’ll trample anyone dumb enough to stand in their way.
Studies show that these ego balloons are more likely to screw you over—and here’s the real kicker—they feel nothing. No guilt, no remorse, not a damn shred of humanity.
Why? Because their heads are so inflated with their own importance, they think the world was stitched together just to carry their weight.
When they hurt you, they don’t sit around in the dark, chain-smoking and feeling bad like the rest of us sad sacks.
No, they sleep just fine. Better than fine, probably. They rationalize it with lines like, “I had no choice,” or “They had it coming.” It’s a bad sitcom they’ve written for themselves, full of excuses and zero character development. And the punchline? It’s always at your expense, but they’re the only ones laughing.
The joke’s on them, though. Because if you stand too close to your reflection for too long, eventually, it’ll crack—and when it does, there’s nothing but empty behind the glass.
Empathy: The Switch That Turns Off
Now let’s bring in the brain, that squishy, gray drama machine that makes us who we are. Neuroscience shows that when self-preservation kicks in, the brain’s empathy circuits can shut down faster than a bar at last call.
That’s right—when push comes to shove, some people’s brains flip the switch from “I care about others” to “Every man for himself.”
This isn’t just theory; it’s science. The prefrontal cortex, the part of your brain responsible for empathy, goes dark when selfish instincts take over.
And once that happens, hurting someone becomes about as emotionally significant to them as stepping on a bug.
Behavior | Scientific Basis |
---|---|
Lack of remorse | Reduced activity in the prefrontal cortex (empathy) |
Repeated harm | Rationalization and cognitive dissonance |
Rationalization: The Art of Lying to Yourself
If there’s one thing humans are great at, it’s lying—especially to themselves. When people hurt others, they don’t want to feel like the villain.
So, they spin a story in their heads where they’re the hero. That’s where rationalization comes in.
“Oh, I only spread that rumor because they were rude to me once.”
“I ghosted them because I’m just so busy.”
“I cheated because my partner wasn’t meeting my needs.”
Sound familiar?
These aren’t just excuses; they’re survival mechanisms.
Rationalization lets people avoid guilt while keeping their self-image intact. It’s cognitive dissonance in action—the mental gymnastics of justifying bad behavior to avoid confronting the uncomfortable truth.
Why It’s Funny (and Not)
The brain is like a bad roommate—it’ll leave empathy on the counter and forget to clean up its mess. But it’s also absurdly human. We’re wired to prioritize ourselves, and sometimes that wiring short-circuits.
It’s darkly funny when you think about it: humans, the so-called pinnacle of evolution, can’t even be nice without their brains sabotaging them.
But it’s also sad, isn’t it? That empathy, one of our most beautiful traits, is so fragile it can crumble under a little pressure.
So, next time someone hurts you and acts like it’s no big deal, remember: it’s science. They’ve rationalized it, their empathy circuits are offline, and their narcissistic ego is having a field day.
And the best part? While they’re busy justifying their selfishness, you get to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Because if we can’t laugh, what the hell are we doing here?
Battling Nihilism and Searching for Meaning
It’s tempting to slip into nihilism, to think none of this matters. If people are selfish and cruel, what’s the point? Here’s the dark truth: there might not be one.
People will hurt you, and most of them won’t feel bad about it. They’re too busy chasing their own hollow victories. You can rage against the unfairness of it all, or you can let go. Not for them, but for you.
As Jean-Paul Sartre said: “Man is condemned to be free.” That freedom is both a curse and a blessing.
The curse? You’re responsible for your own meaning. The blessing? You get to decide who stays in your orbit.
Choose wisely.
Because in the end, your choices—not their apologies—will determine whether your story is a tragedy or a triumph.
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