The Victim or the Villain

Let’s say the silent part aloud.

Sometimes, in the workplace, it feels as though people fall into one of two buckets: the victim or the villain.

Of course, it’s not absolute. Human behavior is far too complicated to fit neatly into two categories. But after years of working in public service, observing people, managing teams, and listening to thousands of hours of conversations with colleagues and peers, I’ve noticed something that is difficult to ignore.

If we aren’t intentional about our thoughts, attitudes, and actions, we can slowly become one or the other. Sometimes without even realizing it.

Let me explain.

Throughout my career, I’ve encountered people from remarkably different backgrounds, with varying strengths, weaknesses, experiences, and levels of ability. I’ve watched employees thrive under exceptional management and struggle under poor management. I’ve seen talented people leave organizations because of their supervisors and others remain in difficult environments simply because they loved the people they worked for.

I’ve experienced workplaces that were stable, productive, and genuinely enjoyable. I’ve also witnessed environments where dysfunction, distrust, and negativity seemed to dominate every conversation.

And somewhere along the way, I began noticing a pattern.

But before we get to the two buckets, we need to acknowledge something.

Public service is difficult.

From the outside, it’s easy to focus on government inefficiencies, questionable spending, bureaucracy, or the perception that public employees enjoy a slower pace of work. Those things make headlines. They create narratives. And unfortunately, they often overshadow the thousands of public servants who genuinely care about the communities they serve.

The reality is that many public employees accept being overworked, underpaid, and constantly scrutinized. You’re expected to be Teflon, somehow impervious to criticism from the public, elected officials, organizational leadership, and sometimes even your own colleagues.

And if you’re particularly good at your job? Congratulations. You’ve probably earned yourself more work, more responsibility, and occasionally less appreciation.

Meanwhile, you look across the street at the private sector and see people performing comparable work for substantially more money.

But that’s part of the sacrifice.

You accept it because you understand the impact. Because occasionally, amid the criticism, bureaucracy, and long hours, a resident walks up and simply says, “Thank you.”

And somehow, those two words remind you why you chose this profession.

Yet even with that sense of purpose, we are not immune to the attitudes that develop around us.

The Victim

The victim lives in an almost constant state of disappointment.

Nothing is ever quite right. The organization is dysfunctional. Management doesn’t understand. Processes are inefficient. Coworkers aren’t pulling their weight. Every problem seems to originate somewhere else.

When criticism comes, reflection rarely follows.

Instead, there are explanations.

“I wasn’t properly trained.”

“My supervisor is out to get me.”

“Nobody set me up for success.”

When the promotion doesn’t happen, the organization doesn’t recognize talent. When the raise doesn’t come, management doesn’t value its employees. When expectations aren’t met, the expectations themselves become the problem.

Now, here’s where this gets complicated.

Sometimes those explanations are completely legitimate.

There are genuinely toxic workplaces. There are supervisors who fail their employees. There are organizations that overlook talented people and reward the wrong behaviors.

Acknowledging those realities matters.

But there’s a difference between experiencing unfair circumstances and allowing those circumstances to become your entire identity.

The victim eventually loses the ability to distinguish between what is happening to them and what they might be contributing to the situation.

And when everything is someone else’s responsibility, personal growth becomes nearly impossible.

The Villain

Then there’s the villain.

You probably thought of someone immediately.

The manager who rarely acknowledges good work but never misses an opportunity to criticize. The executive who demands loyalty but offers little in return. The supervisor who talks about teamwork while making every decision in pursuit of personal recognition.

The villain has an extraordinary ability to make everything about themselves.

Their reputation. Their authority. Their accomplishments. Their interests.

People become instruments for achieving objectives rather than individuals deserving respect, development, and appreciation.

And perhaps most troubling, the villain rarely believes they are the villain.

In their mind, they’re simply holding people accountable. Making difficult decisions. Maintaining standards. Doing what needs to be done.

Sometimes that explanation is valid. Accountability is necessary, and difficult decisions are part of management.

But when accountability exists without empathy, when authority operates without humility, and when personal ambition consistently outweighs the interests of others, something has gone terribly wrong.

The villain begins to mistake power for effectiveness.

And over time, the people around them pay the price.

The Choice

Here’s what I find both troubling and encouraging about these two buckets.

None of us is entirely immune.

The most optimistic employee can become cynical after years of disappointment. The most compassionate manager can become detached after repeatedly dealing with difficult situations.

Even people with the best intentions can drift into behaviors they once criticized.

That’s why I believe the greatest danger isn’t necessarily being the victim or the villain.

It’s becoming one without recognizing it.

It’s losing the ability to question our own narratives.

It’s becoming so convinced that we’re right that we stop considering the possibility that we might be contributing to what’s wrong.

But here’s the encouraging part.

We have more influence over our responses than we sometimes realize.

We can choose reflection instead of constant blame. We can hold people accountable without diminishing their dignity. We can acknowledge dysfunction without allowing it to consume our outlook.

We can decide to contribute something meaningful rather than simply catalog everything that’s wrong.

We can remain optimistic without being naive. We can be firm without being cruel. We can recognize our own shortcomings without surrendering our self-worth.

And perhaps most importantly, we can extend to others the same grace, understanding, and consideration we so often wish they would extend to us.

None of this means tolerating mistreatment or excusing poor management. Sometimes the appropriate response is to speak up, establish boundaries, or leave an unhealthy environment.

It simply means refusing to let our circumstances determine our character.

Because there’s a third possibility beyond the victim and the villain.

You can choose to be someone who takes responsibility for what is within your control, acknowledges what isn’t, and still finds a way to add value.

Someone who doesn’t need everything to be perfect to contribute something positive.

Someone who understands that being wrong occasionally doesn’t make you inadequate, and being in charge doesn’t automatically make you right.

And maybe that’s the person we should all be working to become.