I had two friends whose careers illustrate the catastrophic nature of the “Power Trap.” The first, a supremely talented politician, held immense authority. He was not outwardly arrogant and often helped his subordinates with a “big brother” style. Then, due to gross negligence in a few policy decisions—which his subordinates exploited for serious legal violations—he was arrested, stripped of all titles, and sentenced to a heavy prison term. I lacked the courage to visit his trial; I couldn’t bear to see him in handcuffs.
The second, an entrepreneur, made a fortune in real estate and securities. Determined to build an empire, he borrowed billions and invested wildly, ignoring our desperate warnings about the terrible risks in the financial market. His final words to us were always: “What do you know that I don’t? I’ve been doing this forever.” The 2008 financial crisis hit, his company collapsed, and he retreated from the business world.
Politicians fall, generals stumble, entrepreneurs go broke or to jail, and celebrities get embroiled in scandal. What do these powerful, successful figures have in common? They failed because they severely abused the power they held, leading to their own self-destruction.
Why does power so easily corrupt those who climb to the top?
I. The delusion of invincibility
First, the powerful quickly come to see themselves as “invincible.” For them, rules often become suggestions, and they operate outside the normal legal framework. At the peak, they grow complacent and dismissive of the law. Meanwhile, the public, the media, and even law enforcement often treat the powerful with deference and leniency, which only feeds the abuse. This is how politicians make disastrous decisions despite knowing better, and how celebrities act like demigods, harassing subordinates with impunity.
Second, success creates the illusion of infallibility. Highly successful people quickly achieve whatever they desire because they are genuinely competent. They risk developing the delusion that they are omnipotent. Their entourage—whether driven by loyalty or self-interest—becomes blind to their abuse of power and may even mistake dictatorial actions for “decisiveness” or “courageous leadership.” Subordinates rationalize and even cheer on wrong decisions because the rewards from the “big boss” are too substantial to risk. This cycle of unchecked deference allows power to run rampant and ultimately corrupt the wielder.
Third, success in the past is never a guarantee of future success. When leaders become too successful, they believe they are always right. They forget that past political success does not guarantee present success, and mastery in one business sector does not translate to competence in all others. Because they are surrounded by flatterers who normalize and rationalize every action, the powerful grow distant from necessary critique. The absence of dissenting voices creates a dangerous echo chamber, making disastrous mistakes inevitable.
II. The addiction to adoration
The poison of power is the most potent drug. Continuous adoration breeds addiction; being hailed as a “Master,” “Icon,” or “Leader” is a constantly escalating dose of dopamine. To satisfy this growing addiction, leaders seek increasingly difficult challenges and push boundaries further to test their limits.
At an institutional level, strong checks and balances are required to ensure that “absolute power does not corrupt absolutely.” In a well-governed system, those who abuse power are severely punished, regardless of their position.
III. The mandate for humility
For the individual, the first defense against the poison is to practice listening to unvarnished, difficult truths. Ancient kings often employed “remonstrance officials” (gián quan) willing to die to prevent the ruler from making errors. Leaders need talented colleagues with strong, independent opinions, not sycophants. Political leaders need financially independent advisors who can offer untainted counsel.
To achieve this, the person in power must embrace humility. Only by acknowledging the limits of one’s ability—that you cannot do everything, and that one person cannot cover the entire sky—can you know when to stop. Wise monarchs of the past often referred to themselves as cô (the lonely orphan), signifying that they needed guidance. If dictatorial kings required humility, those with mere temporary power today need it even more.
Humility allows a leader to understand that their success is the crystallization of immense luck and the efforts of countless others. True leadership means serving the public, the shareholders, the employees, or the fans—it is a sacred responsibility, not a personal privilege to exploit.
The powerful must understand that power and fame are ephemeral. Regardless of how mighty you become, time will lead to retirement, and even global icons eventually pass. As a once-powerful politician said after his downfall, “Prison is cold.” The distance from the pinnacle of power to a freezing cell is often just a few steps.
