Most of us cherish the illusion of sovereignty. We believe we choose our careers, our partners, and our morning coffee based on a unique internal compass. However, Luke Burgis
suggests that our wants are rarely our own. Drawing on the work of French polymath Rene Girard
, we find that human desire is not linear, but triangular. It involves a subject, an object, and a model who signals that the object is worth having. This is Mimetic Desire
. It is the psychological equivalent of gravity, an invisible force pulling us toward the things others want simply because they want them.
From an evolutionary standpoint, imitation served as a vital shortcut. It allowed early humans to learn language, develop culture, and identify successful hunting strategies without the lethal risk of trial and error. But as we moved from basic survival to abstract pursuits—status, fashion, and lifestyle—this adaptive trait became a double-edged sword. In the modern age, we are no longer just imitating survival skills; we are imitating the very hunger of those around us, often leading to a hollow sense of achievement once we finally grasp the object of our borrowed affection.
The Alchemy of Value and the Social Machine
Value is frequently a social construct rather than an inherent property. Luke Burgis
describes Mimetic Desire
as a form of alchemy. By having the right person want something, a worthless object can suddenly become a treasure. This principle was mastered by Edward Bernays
, the nephew of Sigmund Freud
. In 1929, Bernays broke the taboo against women smoking in public by staging a "spontaneous" demonstration at the Easter Day Parade. By positioning attractive, defiant women as models of desire, he rebranded cigarettes as "torches of freedom."
Today, social media platforms like Instagram
function as hyper-efficient desire-generating machines. They provide billions of models, blurring the lines between what we need and what we have been conditioned to want. This leads to a collapse of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs
. Beyond physiological safety and food, the hierarchy becomes a chaotic universe of competing desires. We bounce like pinballs between models, often unable to distinguish our true north from the digital noise. When we lose the ability to see the model behind our want, we lose our agency.
Internal vs. External Mediators
To navigate this, we must distinguish between two types of models. External mediators are those outside our social reach—celebrities like Conor McGregor
or historical figures. Because we do not compete with them for the same resources or social circle, they can inspire us without triggering toxic rivalry. Internal mediators, however, are those within our world: colleagues, friends, and siblings. These are the danger zones. When we imitate someone close to us, they become both our model and our rival. This proximity often leads to the "narcissism of small differences," where we fight most bitterly with those who are most similar to us.
The Scapegoat Mechanism and Social Cohesion
When Mimetic Desire
runs rampant within a group, it leads to a "mimetic crisis." As everyone begins to want the same things, competition turns into aggression. Rene Girard
observed that societies historically solved this tension through the Scapegoat Mechanism
. By identifying a single individual or group to blame for the communal discord, the community can unite in a shared act of exclusion or violence. This creates a temporary, albeit fragile, peace.
In contemporary society, where grand narratives have collapsed, we see this playing out in political partisanship. Groups often define themselves not by what they love, but by who they collectively despise. The scapegoat provides a release valve for the internal pressure of mimetic rivalry. Whether it is the public shaming of a "canceled" figure on Twitter
or the demonization of political opponents, the mechanism remains the same. It is a primitive way to achieve group cohesion by transferring all communal "sins" onto a single target.
From Rivalry to Innovation: The Lamborghini Example
Not all mimetic rivalry is destructive. The creation of Lamborghini
serves as a masterclass in how desire can spur excellence. Ferruccio Lamborghini
, originally a tractor manufacturer, was a fan of Ferrari
. However, a mechanical dispute with Enzo Ferrari
sparked a fierce rivalry. Enraged by being told to "stick to tractors," Lamborghini resolved to build a better car. He didn't innovate from scratch; he imitated the best manufacturing techniques from Detroit
and design cues from Japan
, refining them into something superior.
Crucially, Lamborghini knew when to opt out. He recognized that entering the world of racing would lead to a lifelong, potentially lethal war with Ferrari. By choosing to retire to a vineyard and focus on his family, he stepped out of the mimetic trap. He used the energy of rivalry to build a legacy but possessed the self-awareness to stop before the rivalry consumed him. This is the goal of a "sovereign individual": to use the power of models to grow, while maintaining the wisdom to recognize where the model’s path ends and your own life begins.
Reclaiming Agency in a Mimetic World
We cannot eliminate Mimetic Desire
any more than we can eliminate breathing. It is hardwired into our biology through mirror neurons. However, we can move from being "unconscious imitators" to "intentional agents." The first step is naming our models. If you can identify the person who first made a specific career path or lifestyle look attractive, you strip that desire of its metaphysical power. You realize it is not an objective truth, but a borrowed preference.
Practicing regular periods of silence and retreat—similar to a Bill Gates
"think week"—allows the sediment of social influence to settle. In silence, the voices of our models grow quiet, allowing our "thick" desires (those rooted in our values) to surface over the "thin" desires (those sparked by a recent social media post). Growth happens when we stop falling to the level of our mimetic systems and start designing lives based on intentional contribution. By recognizing the gravity of mimesis, we finally gain the strength to walk a path that is truly our own.
