Ego, Strength, and the Illusion of Authority

One of the most common expressions of ego in the gym is this idea:

“If someone doesn’t bench as much as me, their opinion is invalid.”

It sounds ridiculous when said out loud, yet it quietly governs much of the lifting culture.

Strength becomes a hierarchy.
Numbers become authority.
And lifting less becomes a reason to be dismissed.

This isn’t actually about strength.
It’s about identity protection.

Performance Is Not Wisdom

Lifting a heavy bench proves one thing: you trained long enough and specifically enough to bench a heavy weight.

It does not prove you understand biomechanics, fatigue management, coaching, longevity, or how someone else should train.

When performance becomes identity, feedback feels like a threat. Ego fills the gaps between what someone can do and what they actually understand.

The Military Parallel

I saw the same pattern in the military.

The ego showed up as inflated importance. Certain roles talked down on others as if human value was tied to job title. Infantry versus support. Combat versus non-combat. Who was “harder”

And yet, when things mattered, none of that counted.

Units functioned because people listened, adapted, and trusted one another. Ego fractured teams. Cooperation saved lives.

Same team. Same mission.

Ego Slows Learning

Ego doesn’t just offend people. It actively blocks growth.

The moment someone decides they’re above listening, learning stops. The strongest voices often become the least coachable. Experience gets mistaken for correctness.

Meanwhile, the quieter person lifting less may move better, recover better, and last longer.

Ego rarely listens downward.

Moral Superiority Disguised as Discipline

This is rampant in lifting culture.

Some people confuse training hard with being better human beings—as if voluntary suffering or discipline in one area grants moral authority over others.

That’s moral superiority.

The same pattern exists in politics. People don’t just believe their ideas are right; they believe their ideas make them morally better than those who disagree.

In gyms, it sounds like:

• “At least I train.”

• “If they cared, they’d make time.”

• “People who don’t lift are lazy.”
  

Training becomes a moral scoreboard.

But discipline applied inward is strength. Discipline used outward is ego.

The fact that you train doesn’t make you wiser. It doesn’t make your opinions more valid. And it doesn’t make you more valuable as a person.

You chose one hard path. Others chose different ones.

Why This Becomes Dangerous

In high-risk environments, ego turns confidence into recklessness.

In the military, I saw people placed in dangerous situations because they believed they were indestructible. Advice dismissed. Risk ignored. Limits denied.

That same belief system exists in the gym: ignoring pain, overriding technique, treating caution as weakness.

Different consequences. Same failure mode.

The Reality

Ego narrows perception. Humility expands it.

The barbell doesn’t decide whose perspective matters. A job title doesn’t determine human value. And suffering doesn’t grant moral authority.

Real strength is the ability to listen, adapt, and improve—without needing to dominate.

Same team. Same direction.

Ego off.

Nat Galloway

Coach, Master Athletic Performance