There’s a silent restlessness that runs through and undermines many bonds: the way certain people, trapped in their own disenchantment, become experts at pointing fingers, questioning, or interfering in the lives of others. Jean-Paul Sartre already warned that “hell is other people.” However, it would be better to qualify that idea. Not all others. Only those who have nothing else to do but meddle in other people’s lives. The fact is, only those who aren’t moving forward have time to bother others.
Living through others
For Sartre, we are all called to invent ourselves through individual responsibility. But for many people, this freedom is not a privilege, but rather a burden. A curse. When this task seems daunting or daunting, the most common thing to do is to “ignore responsibility.” This can lead to “bad faith” or alienation, according to the existentialist philosopher.
When a person doesn’t take responsibility for their own existence, but instead delegates their decisions to others or fate, they tend to fall into apathy. In other words, they become bored. And to distract themselves from this existential void, they’re likely to snoop around in other people’s lives.
When we walk in circles, emptiness seeks ways to compensate. In a way, we begin to live through others. The other becomes a field of operations: we observe them, guide them, make suggestions, intervene. In these cases, interference doesn’t stem from a desire to help, but from the need to exist through that “help.” It’s a way of gaining influence in the world by embedding oneself in the lives of others. It’s a way of feeling “indispensable” or gaining importance without taking control of one’s own story.
Basically, instead of walking one’s own path, one begins to guard that of others. Unsolicited advice is then offered and a “technical” role is attempted in one’s life: that of emotional expert, improvised therapist, or steward of paths that are not traveled but are rigorously monitored.
This dynamic is often an attempt to reconstruct a lost identity. When a person delegates their decisions to chance, convenience, or routine, the lives of others become a substitute. This isn’t just a distraction, but a genuine existential transference; that is, “Since I don’t know what to do with my life, I’ll do something with yours.” Ultimately, it’s easier to push others than to take the plunge yourself, with all the risks that entails.
Paradoxically, the person who annoys others often presents themselves as noble, indispensable, and selfless. But beneath this facade of dedication lies a covert form of control. Since they are no longer in control of their own lives, they try to take control of others’.
This mechanism can take many forms: the mother who doesn’t know what to do with her life after her children’s emancipation and clings to her schedule as if they were still ten years old; the friend who, after years of immobility, becomes the official commentator on other people’s relationships; or the boss who isn’t developing professionally but zealously reviews the team’s schedules, breaks, and workload. In all these cases, what lies beneath isn’t a genuine interest in the other person’s well-being, but rather an attempt to escape from oneself.
Torpedoing the growth of others
We live in a world where meaning has become a rare commodity. As the fundamental questions of existence (Who am I? Where am I going? What’s worth it?) lose ground in public debate, social media becomes a kind of omnipresent Big Brother.
This means that, instead of looking inward, many people have learned to look at others: scrutinizing their choices, measuring their progress, judging their processes… They don’t usually do this out of malice, but simply because their emptiness is too uncomfortable to bear alone.
In this scenario, surveillance becomes a form of evasion. Since these people don’t know what to do with their time, they spend it analyzing what you do with yours. And if, in addition, they notice that you’re growing, that you’re making decisions, that you’re moving forward, or that you’re daring to change, that movement acts as a mirror. It’s not your success that bothers them; it’s your drive that exposes their inertia. Your transformation makes their stagnation even more evident.
From this discomfort, many people adopt a deeply reactive logic: if I can’t, or don’t want to, move, you shouldn’t either. Obviously, they don’t say it explicitly, but their behavior betrays them: veiled criticism, sarcastic comments, or advice disguised as warnings. This reveals an unconscious impulse to dynamite the growth process of others.
It’s a low-intensity sabotage, but no less effective for that. Because it targets the areas where it hurts the most in that fragile moment when you’re just beginning to take a step forward and still have doubts or feel insecure. Therefore, it’s extremely important to learn to recognize these people to prevent them from stifling your growth.
As a conclusion, it’s worth clarifying that living through others is an understandable temptation, but it’s not the solution; it’s merely a way of putting the problem on hold. The only way out, as Sartre reminded us, is to commit to one’s own freedom. To accept, with all the anguish or uncertainty this may generate, that we have the responsibility to become the person we want to be. Only then will we no longer have time to interfere in the lives of others, simply because we’ll be too busy building our own.
Source:
Sartre, J. P. (1993) El ser y la nada: Ensayo de ontología fenomenológica. Barcelona: Ediciones Altaya.
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