There is an uncomfortable truth many societies prefer not to discuss openly: human beings are often not honest enough with themselves to admit that they want what other people have. Instead of confronting envy directly, we disguise it in more socially acceptable language, moral arguments, or casual dismissals.
Envy is one of the most common human emotions, yet one of the least acknowledged.
Consider wealth. It is common to hear someone struggling financially say, “Money is not everything.” Strictly speaking, that statement is true. Money cannot buy love, health, peace of mind, or integrity. Yet it would also be dishonest to ignore the fact that many people express such sentiments while privately wishing for the comfort, security, and opportunities money provides. What sounds like wisdom can sometimes be frustration in disguise.
The same pattern appears with power. Many people criticise leaders, executives, politicians, and those in authority. Some criticism is justified and necessary in any healthy society. But there is another layer often left unspoken: many who condemn power would gladly embrace it if given the chance. In some cases, they might even behave worse than those they once denounced.
Power attracts because it offers influence, recognition, access, and control. Human beings are drawn to status, whether they admit it or not.
This does not mean everyone is corrupt or selfish. It means hierarchy is built into most social systems. In workplaces, politics, communities, and even families, people are ranked—formally or informally—by income, beauty, intelligence, popularity, connections, or authority. Few people willingly accept the bottom of any hierarchy. As a result, comparison becomes constant, and envy follows naturally.
That comparison is not limited to money or politics. Those in poor health may envy those who are physically strong. Those facing loneliness may envy those in loving relationships. Those with unstable careers may envy those with secure professions. Even those who appear successful often envy something they lack—peace, youth, beauty, freedom, or genuine affection. Envy does not disappear with success. It simply changes targets.
This is why social media has intensified modern dissatisfaction. Platforms built on curated lifestyles expose people daily to filtered versions of other people’s achievements, holidays, marriages, bodies, homes, and milestones. The result is often silent resentment disguised as indifference.
Yet envy itself is not always destructive. Properly understood, it can serve as information. It can reveal what we value, what we desire, and where we feel unfulfilled. If someone else’s success unsettles us, the deeper question may not be about them—it may be about ourselves.
The danger begins when envy turns into bitterness, sabotage, gossip, or moral hypocrisy. Instead of admitting admiration or aspiration, some people attack what they secretly desire. They mock wealth while chasing it. They condemn influence while seeking it. They belittle beauty while craving validation.
A more mature society would encourage emotional honesty. There is no shame in wanting a better life, greater respect, stronger health, or meaningful success. The shame lies in pretending we do not want these things while resenting those who have them. To admit envy is not weakness. It is self-awareness.
The real challenge is transforming envy into discipline, gratitude, and growth. Rather than asking, “Why do they have it?” we might ask, “What can I build, improve, or become?”
Human beings may never escape comparison entirely. But we can choose whether envy becomes poison—or motivation.
Torch Media Africa
