When It's Not The System, Rather It's Them
"Personal Responsibility" is a loaded term, but sometimes people just suck and we can't do anything about it.
You are all the things that are wrong with you. It's not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened to you in your career, or when you were a kid. It's you.
- Todd (The Fucking Man)
I have spent many years discussing how systems shape much of our experience. Capitalism, class structures, and societal norms play a big role in molding who we are and what we become.
However, I don’t do this to offer people an answer to everything; I am not offering Marxist analysis as a lifestyle or something to fill the god hole. Marxism is a basis for understanding (and thus eventually changing) the power structure. Many leftists (particularly the ones who claim Marx but distort his work as constantly as I complain about them doing so) tend to use these systems as a catch-all explanation for everything, including their and others' bad behavior.
But sometimes, it’s not the system, and we want to help. Should we? Can we?
The Limits of Influence
Many think we can change others with enough love, support, and patience. This is a compassionate belief, and good people with a genuine desire to help are often the ones who believe it.
But it’s also an ideology heavily pushed in our society. We’re taught to believe in the power of individual transformation, often through stories that glorify arcs where one person’s love or persistence finally “saves” the schlub protagonist. This narrative is pervasive in our culture, from Hollywood (Hollywoo, if we want to keep the Bojack train rolling) films to self-help books, and it reinforces the notion that change is something we can impose on others.
But this belief doesn’t just exist in a vacuum—it’s rooted in a broader systemic context. Hollywood, self-help, and other media that emphasize the primacy of the individual as a social actor are not neutral; they are representatives of those who own them. The ideology that benefits them is people thinking their consumption and behavior is all or nothing, life or death, and that if they fuck up, they are contributing to the downfall of society. What they buy and do changes the world!
I have talked a great deal about how this mindset has created a society of subscriptions (cancel culture), but for those who don’t become ravenous for the blood and clout of others, kind people, they do the opposite. They try to help people who society deems irredeemable, to nurture them, and to give them the attention others do not. They befriend them, invest tons of their emotional energy in them, and eventually burn themselves out and lose faith in people.
This is just the other side of the cancel culture coin, the counterweight ideology that handles empathetic people who think the problem with the bad boy is that he’s been dealt a bad hand. These kind-hearted individuals sacrifice themselves on the altar of impossible redemption. They believe that if they don’t help, they’re complicit in the world’s cruelty.
If cancel culture is “none of these people can be saved,” this is “every one of these people can be saved,” and both are utopian and idealistic.
I’ve personally done a ton of “give the canceled person a chance.” I’ve been through it, and I know it can be built on lies. But I’ve also been burned by that many times. I won’t name names, but if you know, you know. The dialectical answer is where I am now. I won’t automatically condemn, and I certainly won’t participate in a cancel campaign, but I also try not to get involved. It is not my responsibility to keep people from shooting themselves in the foot, as much as I clearly want to help.
The idea that one person can “save” another from themselves through sheer force of will is not only unrealistic, it’s damaging. It sets up kind souls for inevitable disappointment and failure, while the person they’re trying to help is often resentful or indifferent. The more energy we pour into trying to change someone, the more you deplete your own reserves, emotionally and mentally.
Personal transformation requires internal motivation—a desire to change from within, not from external pressure or someone else’s needs or expectations.
This is not a call to stop caring or to turn away from struggling people. However, as with cancel culture, we must recognize that individuals’ influence is limited. What brand a person buys can not change anything about exploitation, so we should not cancel them. Our actions can not make a person different, so we should not believe it is our responsibility to do so.
When people are interpersonally manipulative, exploitative, abusive, mean, angry, etc. you can and will do nothing about it. It’s not about you, it’s about them. You feel responsible, but you aren’t. You can’t be, even if you desperately want to, whether out of love or (more likely) out of some intrinsic guilt that gets reinforced every time one “fails” to improve another person.
Wasted Energy
When we invest our time, energy, and emotional resources into trying to change someone else, it is easy to lose sight of the toll it takes on us.
The belief that with enough persistence, we can save someone from their worst instincts or lead them to a better path is not just idealistic (in both the colloquial and Marxist sense)—it’s draining. Whether done out of empathy or a deep-seated sense of responsibility, this emotional labor rarely yields the results we hope for. Instead, it leaves us depleted, frustrated, and often questioning our own worth.
We may start by feeling hopeful, believing that our influence will make a difference, but as time goes on and change doesn’t come, that hope can turn into despair. The constant cycle of trying, failing, and trying again wears us down. It’s like taking a bucket to empty water from a boat with a hole in the bottom—no matter how much we try, that boat ain’t gonna keep floating.
This is where the delusion becomes dangerous. The more energy we pour into trying to change someone—to be the external motivation—the more we deplete our own reserves. We sacrifice our well-being in the process, neglecting our needs, goals, and even our sense of self. We might feel exhausted, burnt out, and emotionally numb, all because we’ve been carrying the burden of someone else’s problems on our shoulders.
It’s important to realize that the belief we can change others is not just misguided—it can be a form of self-harm. By focusing so much on someone else’s problems, we risk losing ourselves. Our own needs, dreams, and aspirations get pushed to the back burner, as we prioritize the impossible task of fixing someone else. And in the end, we’re left with little to show for our efforts other than a deep sense of exhaustion and a lingering feeling of failure.
But it isn’t your failure. Your worth is not tied to your ability to change others, to save them from themselves. If they tell you differently, they’re lying to you, either by accident, intentionally, or somewhere in between.
People Who Exploit Good Intentions
There’s also the harsh reality that some people consciously (or unconsciously, not sure which is worse) exploit others’ good intentions. The kindness and compassion of others is simply an opportunity to maintain their status quo and avoid responsibility in their eyes.
Manipulative (maybe even emotionally abusive) individuals understand that these people want to believe in their potential. They might promise to change, do better, and make an effort—but these promises often go unfulfilled. Instead, they continue their harmful behaviors, all while keeping those who care about them on the hook, waiting for a transformation that never comes.
It’s a cruel cycle. The more energy and compassion invested in these individuals, the more they take advantage of it. They may feign vulnerability, play the victim, or give just enough indication that change is possible to keep others engaged. But in reality, they are often more interested in maintaining control and ensuring the focus stays on them.
This isn’t to say that everyone who struggles with change is manipulative. Many people face real obstacles to personal transformation and deserve understanding and support. But it’s crucial to recognize when someone is taking advantage of one’s good nature and using others’ empathy to avoid facing their own shortcomings.
The danger in this dynamic is that it drains a person’s energy and distorts their perception of what’s possible. One might start to believe that if they just try a little harder, if they just give a little more, things will get better But this is a trap.
The truth is that no amount of external effort can substitute for internal motivation. And when someone is more interested in manipulating others than in improving themselves, a good-natured person’s efforts will always be in vain.
People need to set boundaries and recognize when someone’s struggles are being used to keep them tethered down (further, there is danger that the language of boundaries can also lead one to think they should cut off the people warning them about exploitation and manipulation).
Compassion and support are essential when balanced with a clear understanding of the situation. Whether someone is manipulative or not, we can not change them. They can only change themselves, and having a “come to Jesus” moment in response to consequences is likely not an indication they will. Instead, it can be a delay tactic and should be regarded as such until proven otherwise.
Conclusion
Personal transformation requires deep, internal motivation—something that cannot be imposed from the outside, no matter how much we care or feel obligated.
When we pour our energy into trying to change others, especially those who may be manipulative or emotionally abusive, we risk losing ourselves in the process. We sacrifice our well-being, neglect our happiness, and often feel exhausted and defeated. It’s a cycle that benefits no one, least of all ourselves.
We should never give up on compassion or turn away from those who struggle. However, understanding that our responsibility ends where someone else’s begins is essential to figuring out how to enjoy our short time on this planet. We cannot force someone to change, and we should not measure our worth by our ability to do so.
The most meaningful change we can make is in ourselves and in the collective actions we take together. So, when it’s not the system, and it’s them—when someone is unwilling or unable to change despite our best efforts—STEP BACK.
I like how you include the empathy variable here. Would be interested in hearing more of your thoughts on the space where kindness *can* matter. There's a long continuum of empathy, from saying "hi, how are you?" to trying to rescue someone. It's clearer how a high empathy person should deal with extreme situations. It's more tricky in the day to day.
Maybe I'm asking you to write about hope?
I'm not sure myself!
Thanks as always for your thoughtful reflections.