I have been thinking about the idea of heroes.
Not heroes in the comic book sense. I mean the real-life version. The people we admire. The people we look up to. The people we use as examples for how to live, work, lead, think, build, or behave.
And the more I think about it, the more I believe this:
We should be careful about having heroes.
Not because admiration is bad. It isn’t. I think it’s good to admire people. It’s good to learn from people. It’s good to look at someone else’s discipline, courage, creativity, patience, wisdom, or conviction and say, “I want more of that in myself.”
But there’s a difference between admiring a value in a person and turning the person into a hero.
Without that difference, we can confuse the person with the virtue we first admired in them.
Because heroes ask us to admire a person.
Values ask us to examine behaviour.
And those are not the same thing.
People Are Not Values
The problem with heroes is that people come as a package.
They have good qualities and bad qualities. Strengths and weaknesses. Wisdom and blind spots. Virtues and flaws. Moments of courage and moments of selfishness. They can be brilliant in one area and completely immature in another.
That isn’t a criticism. That is just being human.
A great entrepreneur might have incredible discipline, but also a massive ego. A talented artist might be deeply creative, but chaotic and unreliable. A political leader might have courage, but lack humility. A mentor might be wise in business, but terrible in relationships. A celebrity might say one thing that inspires millions of people, then behave in ways that are not worth copying at all.
The idea of having heroes becomes dangerous when admiration starts protecting the whole person from honest judgment.
Not because people are imperfect.
People are allowed to be imperfect.
The danger is that once someone becomes a hero in our mind, we often stop judging their actions clearly. We don’t just admire the good parts. We start protecting the whole package.
We admire their confidence, then excuse their arrogance.
We admire their toughness, then excuse their cruelty.
We admire their discipline, then excuse their obsession.
We admire their success, then excuse their dishonesty.
We admire their intelligence, then excuse their lack of wisdom.
That is where admiration turns into blindness.
Frankenstein Your Mentors
I think the better approach is to Frankenstein your mentors.
That may not be the prettiest way to say it, but it’s probably the most accurate.
Instead of picking one person and saying, “I want to be like them,” we should be more specific.
I want that person’s discipline.
I want that person’s patience.
I want that person’s courage.
I want that person’s ability to stay calm under pressure.
I want that person’s curiosity.
I want that person’s work ethic.
I want that person’s humility.
I want that person’s willingness to tell the truth.
But I don’t need their ego.
I don’t need their bitterness.
I don’t need their vanity.
I don’t need their recklessness.
I don’t need their bad habits.
I don’t need their blind spots.
That seems like a much healthier way to learn from people.
We don’t need to absorb a person as a whole. We can identify specific values in specific people and try to emulate those values. At the same time, we can notice the parts of them we should avoid.
That doesn’t make us judgmental. It makes us awake.
A Good Road Can Still Have Potholes
A good road can still have potholes.
That doesn’t make it a bad road. It doesn’t mean you should never drive on it. It doesn’t mean you need to condemn the whole thing and turn around.
But you do need to train your mind to see the potholes.
Without that training, admiration can make the road feel safer than it really is.
We don’t need everyone to be perfect. We can forgive people. We can understand people. We can accept that human beings are complicated, inconsistent, and sometimes disappointing.
We can admire someone’s courage while recognizing their ego.
We can respect someone’s discipline while noticing their lack of kindness.
We can learn from someone’s wisdom without copying their bitterness.
We can appreciate what someone has built without pretending every part of their character is worth emulating.
The problem is not that our heroes have potholes.
The problem is when our admiration makes us stop seeing them.
Because once we stop seeing the potholes, we start hitting them. And sometimes, if we’re moving fast enough, they do real damage.
We start calling arrogance “confidence.”
We start calling cruelty “strength.”
We start calling dishonesty “strategy.”
We start calling selfishness “vision.”
We start calling obsession “discipline.”
And at that point, we’re not learning from the person anymore. We’re protecting the image we created of them.
Forgiveness Is Not Blindness
Forgiveness is not blindness.
Understanding someone’s flaws doesn’t mean pretending those flaws are virtues. Having compassion for someone’s shortcomings doesn’t mean adopting those shortcomings into your own life.
I can forgive someone and still say, “That behaviour is wrong.”
I can understand why someone is the way they are and still say, “I do not want to become that.”
I can respect someone’s achievements and still say, “That part of their character is not admirable.”
That isn’t hypocrisy. It’s discernment.
In reality, we need the ability to admire without surrendering our judgment.
Because if I can only admire perfect people, I will admire no one.
But if I admire people without seeing their flaws, I’m setting myself up to be misled.
The goal is not to find flawless people.
The goal is to stay clear-eyed around flawed people, especially the ones I admire.
Most People Do Not Actually Have Defined Values
This is where the idea gets a bit more uncomfortable.
I think most people say they have values, but they often don’t have clearly defined values.
They have reactions.
They know what feels wrong when they see it. They know what feels right when they see it. But that isn’t quite the same as having a defined value system.
Because when values are not defined, they become negotiable in the moment.
And the moment is a dangerous place to define your morality.
Who did it?
Do I like them?
Are they on my side?
Did they benefit me?
Did they offend me?
Did they say it in a way I found charming?
Did they make me angry first?
Is everyone else excusing it?
Would admitting this is wrong cost me something?
These things influence us more than we like to admit.
Our emotions enter the conversation. Our biases enter the conversation. Our loyalty enters the conversation. Our desire to be right enters the conversation. Our desire to belong enters the conversation.
And suddenly, we’re not judging the action based on a value.
We’re judging the action based on the person doing it.
Once that happens, the standard starts moving depending on who is standing in front of it.
Because if the same action is wrong when done by someone I dislike, but acceptable when done by someone I admire, then I probably don’t have a value.
I have a preference.
Or a bias.
Or a team jersey.
And that is not the same thing.
Values Give Us a Measuring Stick
A value gives us something outside the moment to measure against.
If I value honesty, then dishonesty is wrong even when it benefits me.
If I value humility, then arrogance is a flaw even when it comes from someone successful.
If I value courage, then cowardice is a weakness even when it’s socially convenient.
If I value kindness, then cruelty is not excused just because the person is talented, powerful, funny, rich, popular, or on my side.
Values give us a standard.
Heroes can distort that standard.
If I build my life around heroes, I may slowly start redefining my values to protect them. But if I build my life around values, I can admire people where they align with those values and be honest where they don’t.
The value comes first.
The person comes second.
This Applies Everywhere
This doesn’t just apply to celebrities.
It applies to mentors, bosses, business leaders, politicians, influencers, religious figures, authors, athletes, friends, and family members.
Anyone we admire has the ability to shape our judgment.
That isn’t always bad. Sometimes it’s good. A strong example can pull us upward. A good mentor can help us become better. A person who lives with courage, discipline, honesty, or generosity can show us what those values look like in practice.
But admiration needs limits.
A person can be impressive and still wrong.
A person can be successful and still unethical.
A person can be charismatic and still manipulative.
A person can be intelligent and still foolish.
A person can be worth learning from without being worth becoming.
That’s why “don’t have heroes, have values” is a useful rule.
It doesn’t mean we stop admiring people.
It means we stop outsourcing our judgment to them.
Admire Carefully
The better rule might be this:
Admire people only to the extent that their actions align with your values.
That keeps admiration in its proper place.
It allows me to learn from many people without becoming captured by any one person. I can take courage from one person, discipline from another, patience from another, creativity from another, wisdom from another, and humility from another.
I don’t need one perfect person to model my life after.
That person doesn’t exist.
And if I convince myself they do, I’ll eventually have to lie to myself to keep the illusion alive.
So I’d rather have values than heroes.
I’d rather train my mind to see clearly.
I’d rather learn from people without worshipping them.
I’d rather admire the road and still watch for potholes.
Because the point is not to become cynical. It’s not to tear people down. It’s not to demand perfection from everyone around us.
The point is to stay honest.
People can be admired.
People can be forgiven.
People can be understood.
People can be learned from.
But values need to remain above the person.
Because once the hero becomes more important than the value, we’re no longer following a principle.
We’re following a personality.
And that is exactly where the potholes start to become dangerous.
