Work, life, school, anything with a group of people fighting for limited rewards, is a game.
In this game, sometimes we do well. Sometimes we don’t.
What really bothers us, though, is not failure.
It’s when someone we believe shouldn’t do well ends up doing far better than expected, sometimes far better than us.
That’s when resentment shows up.
Jealousy. Bitterness. Moral outrage.
And that’s where we usually go wrong.
Those feelings don’t come from injustice alone; they come from dissonance, a clash between reality and our deeply held worldview. Our model of how the game should work is challenged. Sometimes that model is so tightly woven into our identity that questioning it feels like a personal attack.
Letting go of that worldview is hard. Painful. It threatens the “I”.
So when reality disagrees with us, we usually choose one (or both) of two stories:
- The world is unfair. I am the victim.
- They are cheating, conniving, manipulating, gaming the system.
Which one we choose depends on personality. Often, we oscillate between both.
What happens next?
Do we start cheating too?
No.
We don’t actually know how others are cheating, only that they must be.
And besides, we see ourselves as “better than that.” Our definition of integrity is also built from our own worldview.
Instead, we do the opposite.
Because our beliefs are bound to our ego, we cling to them even harder in the face of contradicting evidence. We double down.
I’ll beat them with hard work.
My boss will realize the mistake.
Justice will prevail.
I’ll be rewarded eventually. They’ll be punished.
At this point, it starts sounding eerily like religion, promises of heaven and hell deferred to the future. Maybe that’s where the idea comes from.
So what’s the solution?
First, this: don’t hate the player.
They’re not cheaters. They’re players.
They’ve understood the game while you were still attached to a different rulebook.
If that explanation doesn’t sit well, you still have two choices.
Option 1: Hate the game
- Leave the company. It’s broken.
- Join another one. Same story.
- Try another. Still the same.
- Switch careers. This industry is toxic anyway.
- Repeat until you run out of places to run.
Option 2: Change your worldview
- Accept how the game is actually played.
- Learn its real rules.
- Try playing it.
- Get better.
If this feels unethical or corrupt, notice the irony.
I’ve been saying all along: they are only “cheaters” according to your rules.
The moment you try to play the game, something unexpected happens.
You begin to empathize with the so-called cheaters.
You realize what they do isn’t easy.
You realize they’re actually skilled, often far more than you thought.
After you understand the game, you now have two obvious options.
1. Observe the game
Even if you choose not to play, that’s okay.
The dissonance is gone.
You’re no longer angry.
You don’t feel deceived, wronged, or like a victim.
You see things as they are, not as you wish they were. That alone brings peace.
2. Play the game
You accept the rules as they exist.
You learn them.
You practice.
You get better.
But there is a third option, one that’s less obvious.
3. Change the game
Many have done it before.
Many will do it again.
This path may soothe your morals, but it is also the hardest one. And ironically, it still requires you to deeply understand the existing game before you can alter it.
There’s no escaping that part.
Now you know what to do the next time you encounter a “cheater.”
Remember… Don’t hate the players.
