The Mirror Effect

When Leaders Fall in Love with Their Younger Selves

Over the years, I’ve worked for, with, and around a lot of powerful people. Some were visionaries who built teams, lifted people up, and gave credit freely. Others were bullies — smart, talented, even brilliant — but driven more by dominance than purpose. Yet somewhere between those two extremes, there’s another type of leader that’s rarely talked about: the ones who fall in love with their younger selves.

It’s a strange thing to watch. It starts innocently enough — a senior executive sees a young, hungry manager coming up the ranks and recognizes something familiar. Maybe it’s the same swagger, the same spark in the eye, the same love of winning. Maybe they both play golf, run marathons, belong to the same church, fish on weekends, or share a taste for expensive bourbon. And sometimes, it’s that the young man is sharp, confident, even handsome. Sometimes it’s even darker — the same “Bad Boy”reckless streak, the same need to prove something, the same appetite for attention, jokes, women, or competition.— the kind of presence that reminds the older leader of when he turned heads and commanded rooms with ease. Whatever it is, the bond feels electric. The boss sees himself twenty years ago, before the pressure, before the weight of responsibility dulled the edge.

From that point on, the young protégé can do no wrong. He becomes the chosen one, the Golden Boy — the one who “gets it.” The boss starts bringing him everywhere, giving him opportunities others worked twice as hard for. They share jokes others aren’t part of. You see the protégé whispering in the boss’s ear during meetings, a quiet partnership that excludes everyone else. The rest of the team senses the favoritism but can’t quite name it. It isn’t about performance anymore; it’s about reflection. In fact, many times the protégé’s actual results fall short of other, less fortunate employees — with no repercussion. They are “protected.”

And to be fair, this isn’t limited to men. I’ve seen the same mirror effect play out among women in leadership, though it often takes a different shape. Some women leaders, especially those who had to fight hard for every step in a male-dominated environment, seem almost threatened by younger, attractive, or confident women coming up behind them. It’s not jealousy so much as self-protection — a fear of being replaced, of watching a newer version of themselves take the stage they fought to build. The mirror reflects the same thing: youth, ambition, and the haunting reminder of time and competition.

I’ve seen it a dozen times. The older leader isn’t mentoring the younger one — he’s reliving through him. The praise, the protection, the perks — they aren’t gifts, they’re emotional bandages. It’s not about building the next generation; it’s about clinging to the past. And when the protégé eventually grows independent or dares to step out of the shadow, the relationship collapses under the weight of its own illusion.

True mentorship isn’t about recreating yourself in someone else. It’s about helping them become who they’re meant to be. The best leaders don’t see their reflection — they see potential. They don’t build clones; they build people. And they’re strong enough to let those people one day surpass them.

Thankfully, in recent years, the workplace has begun to change for the better. There’s more awareness now — more accountability, more policies, and more open dialogue about fairness, bias, and professional conduct. The old culture of favoritism, intimidation, and quiet rivalries is being challenged. True leadership today is measured less by power and more by how people are treated, developed, and respected.