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We Can Be Emotionally Blinded by Those Who Do "Good Work"

Is that your halo, or is the sun in my eyes?

“He who can, does; he who cannot, teaches,” according to George Bernard Shaw in his play Man and Superman.

I can teach you how to detect deception. Companies, code and law enforcement organizations, schools, and even the Department of Homeland Security have hired me to tell key personnel how to know when someone is not being honest.

But it doesn’t seem to matter what I know when it comes to my interactions with certain people. I’ve been duped many times. Why “certain” people and not others? I had an epiphany this morning that gave me at least one answer.

Some people genuinely believe that what they do in life makes them morally superior to the rest of us. Those of us around them reinforce that belief by giving them more trust than they sometimes deserve and doing bigger favors for them than we would do for a “less noble” person. We are easily deceived about their intentions, depth of caring, loyalty, and ability to reciprocate.

Image by Couleur from Pixabay
Halo, or Sun in My Eyes?
Source: Image by Couleur from Pixabay

Snap out of it. Allowing yourself to be cheated emotionally by someone just because the person does truly wonderful things for a living is not part of a healthy connection.

A few years ago, Dr. Saul Levine wrote a blog post for Psychology Today entitled “Our Illusions of Role Models, Heroes, and Idols.” He stated:

"We can admire and even emulate aspects of accomplished or outstanding people, but hero-worship and attributing to them unrealistic personal traits or powers is a fool’s errand, destined to disappoint."

Digging into my memories, I found the possible seed of my now-blossomed epiphany. I realized one of the first times I questioned why I gave my trust and respect freely to someone just because of his job was when I was a little girl. It was the parish priest. He came to our house after my baby brother’s baptism, had dinner, and smoked cigarettes. My parents didn’t allow smoking in the house—except that time. Somewhere, in the back of my little-girl mind, I thought, “Why are they letting him get away with this just because he’s a priest?”

More recently—and I’ve altered key bits of this story to protect identities—a friend told she had to start watching her back around an acquaintance who works with troubled young people. The common perception is that this individual is selfless, has a generous spirit, and uses her innate intelligence and education for good. She inspires others to support her work through donations of their time and resources for her organization.

Unfortunately, in fits of moral entitlement, she also chastises supporters for “not doing enough.” She berates people for falling short in their efforts to help the cause. Put simply, she regularly makes people feel bad.

The negative action doesn’t negate her good work. All it does is show how easy it is for us to assign a special level of morality to ordinary people with saintly jobs. We allow ourselves to be deceived by a job description.

The story — consistent in spirit, if not content, with the original — made me think about people around me who are superior do-gooders whom no one thinks of as do-gooders. They are people who don’t ever project a sense of entitlement and don’t do anything as obviously “noble” as working with troubled youth.

What they do is nurture healthy relationships because they have an authentically generous spirit; they enjoy helping people.

Louise is the assistant to a senior executive. Not exactly a do-gooder job—right? Her boss is an older man who is very kind and easily says “yes” to people and individuals who ask him to arrange a charity event, or write a letter of endorsement for their cause. Who does the arranging and the writing? Louise, but you never feel she does it because it’s her job. She thrives on carrying out the good work, and she does it with joy.

Look around you and you will find Louises on every block. They feed your cat when you’re out of town. They offer to pick up your mail so you don’t have to be exposed to COVID germs at the post office.

Speaking of germs, my neighbor—a true do-gooder—died of coronavirus recently. He freely shared his expensive power tools and bourbon. Sometimes, he also imparted his extreme political views, but he did it in such a way that you could playfully argue with him. You didn’t have to watch your back around him. He had an impressive title, but it was his humanity that engendered trust and respect.

I had a rush of appreciation for my family, friends, and neighbors when I realized there were hundreds of them for every one of those people with the “holy” job and unholy attitude.

Now, remember, I’m a teacher. There’s a chance you learned something useful from this post, but there’s an equal chance I’ll forget my own lesson and have more rocky relationship stories to share with you later!

References

Levine, Saul, MD (2017). "Our Illusions of Role Models, Heroes, and Idols." Psychology Today; https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/our-emotional-footprint/201712/…

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