There’s a strange psychological shift that happens in offices around the world. One day, someone’s sitting beside you in the open-plan workspace, making coffee, laughing at your bad jokes. The next, they’ve been promoted, and suddenly, their calendar becomes sacred, their tone more clipped, their jokes replaced with strategy buzzwords and “visibility goals.”
What happened?
They didn’t change jobs. They changed identity.
We like to believe leadership elevates people. But too often, all it really does is reveal them. And sometimes, what’s revealed isn’t leadership at all; it’s ego, insecurity, and a dangerous over-identification with power.
Promotions don’t just add responsibilities. They add narrative. The person isn’t just doing the job, they’re becoming the title. The new role quietly whispers: “You’re not just Sarah anymore. You’re Director Sarah. Act accordingly.” And just like that, the performance begins.
The irony? Most people in leadership roles still carry the same fears they had as juniors, only now, they have to dress them up in confidence theatre. Doubt becomes dangerous. Admitting you don’t know something? Risky. Asking questions? Weak. So the mask hardens. The smile becomes more polished. And the person starts managing their impression more than their impact.
Psychologists have studied this for years. Power changes how we see others — and even how we see ourselves. One famous study found that people primed with a sense of power literally saw themselves as taller. Another found reduced empathy and lower emotional accuracy in leaders with inflated authority. The higher the rank, the thinner the skin, and the greater the distance between feedback and defensiveness.
It would be amusing if it weren’t so culturally corrosive. Because the cost of title-driven ego isn’t just cringey LinkedIn bios and inflated job descriptions. It’s a slow cultural rot. Teams become quiet. Creativity turns cautious. Dissent dies not from punishment, but from politeness and fear.
Sadly, most leaders don’t even realise it’s happening. That’s the real danger of ego. It doesn’t show up with fangs; it shows up wearing a lanyard and a leadership badge.
What’s the fix? Start by normalising leadership as a function, not a personality type. Detangle the self from the seat. Promote people who see the job as service, not status. And maybe, just maybe, stop celebrating titles like they’re noble achievements and start treating them like what they are: responsibilities with a shelf life.
Because if your identity needs a title to exist, it was never leadership. It was performance art.
And the audience is getting tired.
