The Red Pill of Humility

To see yourself as you truly are is to discover the rewards of being more humble.

An illustration of a plate being served with a red pill on it.
Illustration by Jan Buchczik
An illustration of a plate being served with a red pill on it.

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Updated at 9:00 a.m. ET on October 9, 2023

The 1999 film The Matrix is famous for coining the metaphor of the “red pill.” In the imaginary world of the movie, people live largely in a state of illusion, experiencing a completely managed simulation of real life that keeps them passive. The protagonist, Neo (played by Keanu Reeves), is offered the choice by the rebel leader Morpheus of staying in the simulation by taking a blue pill or breaking into reality by taking a red pill. This is not an easy decision: choose reality, with its difficult truths, or live in the numb oblivion of the Matrix?

The “red pill” entered the lexicon as a choice we can make in life. Lately, this sometimes refers to political radicalization, but since before that and more benignly, it has meant the choice we make in life to either numb ourselves or face reality. On the one hand, the proposition runs, we can accept the narcotic distractions of modern life, be they drugs or social media or smartphones. On the other hand, we can face the sometimes harsh reality—of our relationships, our work, our prospects—including the truth about ourselves that we might prefer not to confront.

With the blue pill, we are perfect the way we are: We are lovable; our opinions are right; we never sin. The red pill shows us our imperfect selves: flawed, maybe hard to love, blameworthy, ignorant, arrogant.

That red pill that allows us to see ourselves as we truly are has an extant, nonmetaphorical form: It’s called humility. It isn’t always easy medicine, and it comes in more than one dose. But if we are willing to take that pill again and again, amazing rewards await us.

Humility—modesty about one’s own importance or expertise—can refer to an act (for example, giving up a good seat for another), a condition (living in an unflashy way), or a trait (avoiding the assumption that you are always right). It can be practiced intellectually—a concept called “epistemic humility,” seen in discussions of, for example, religion or politics—and socially, in our relationships with others, which can involve refraining from behaviors such as boasting, for instance.

The word itself comes from the Latin humilis, meaning “from the earth,” or grounded. This leads some thinkers to regard humility as simply the most honest way of approaching life. In many traditions, though, humility is considered a positive virtue—as in Jesus’s teaching that the meek shall inherit the earth, and that the kingdom of heaven awaits the poor in spirit.

Other philosophers have rejected this: For example, Friedrich Nietzsche saw humility as a barrier to human progress, a form of self-protection for the weak and the mediocre. In his view, humility is twisted into a virtue as a defense mechanism against strong and hardworking people. The philosopher Norvin Richards, however, offers a counter to this premise, saying, “There are no splendid human beings.”

Perhaps the most fruitful way of viewing humility lies in the advice offered by the 11th-century mystic Bernard of Clairvaux: “If you examine yourself inwardly by the light of truth,” he wrote, “you will be humbled in your own eyes.” Humility, in other words, is pure realism—the red pill.

This does not mean we must embrace some metaphysical theory of our own total depravity. Rather, we should recognize the empirical fact that, left to their own devices, people tend to overestimate their strengths and underestimate their weaknesses. Humility is the full acceptance of the truth about ourselves.

The reason we don’t readily take this red pill is that, well, it is hard to swallow. Psychologists have found, for example, that people who hold their intellectual and religious views with greater existential humility—simply acknowledging, in effect, that one “may be wrong”—suffer more from certain kinds of anxiety than those who score lower in humility. But this isn’t an argument against taking the humility pill. A better approach is to see humility as being like a physical-fitness program: Exercising requires a realistic assessment of our physical limitations and a willingness to embrace some pain—a vigorous workout feels unnatural at first and even hurts. But when the positive health results appear when you have a checkup, you realize it was worth it.

Similarly, the initial pain of humility yields benefits. Scholars have found that the red pill of truth offers improvements in almost every corner of life. For example, research has shown that when people face negative events, humility can buffer the pain and stress that they cause, perhaps because humble people are less likely to think that they shouldn’t encounter problems.

Humble people are also more attractive to romantic partners. Dating research finds that most people find humble potential partners more appealing than those who are arrogant; the humble ones also tended to have more successful long-distance relationships. When people are prompted to think about humility in experiments, they show greater self-control. (No doubt this is why people who score higher on measures of humility are less likely to abuse drugs compared with those who are less humble.) Humility also can make you more generous with others, and more effective as a leader.

Some humility advice is obvious, such as “talk less about yourself” and “argue less, listen more.” But for those who like the exercise analogy for humility, here are three ideas that have worked well for me.

1. Research your weaknesses.
Many self-improvement programs recommend that you understand your strengths so that you can develop and make full use of them. But far fewer programs help you grasp your weaknesses—not just to help you address them, but so that you aren’t tempted to think you’re too splendid. You don’t have to invent a new psychometric instrument to do so. For example, I have used one such instrument from Gallup. I’ve found that this system, which ranks personal strengths in 34 categories, reveals my weaknesses with an uncanny accuracy that is extremely useful for personal growth. But you can use many other tools to achieve the same result.

2. Ask a friend to make sure you take the pill.
We all know it is easier to see the mote in someone else’s eye than the beam in our own, and researchers have noticed that humility is hard to observe accurately in ourselves but fairly easy to spot in others. An obvious example is humblebragging, or pretending to be humble but actually puffing ourselves up, like a billionaire posting on social media, “I don’t deserve to have this private jet.” Scholars find that other people see humblebrags for what they are, and think even less of them than if they’d been out-and-out bragging.

So ask a friend to hold you accountable to be authentically humble, and call you on it when you fall short. This is the mark of a real friend, by the way, who will know that pointing out your puffery won’t always make you happy with them, but also know that it’s good for you to hear it.

3. A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.
The red pill doesn’t have to be completely bitter. Rather than seeing yourself as smaller in order to be humble, you can also recognize how other things are greater than a me-me-me focus. Researchers in 2018 showed in experiments that when people were exposed to awe-inspiring phenomena such as beauty in nature, their levels of humility automatically increased. They had a more balanced view of their strengths and weaknesses, and were more likely to acknowledge the contribution of outside forces in their personal accomplishments. Next time you are tempted to say something boastful to a friend or on social media, take a moment: Instead of bigging yourself up, gaze at an amazing landscape photo or spend a moment of contemplation on the life of a truly virtuous or holy person.

I wrote above about the many benefits of practicing humility found in studies, but I’d point to one more that I have never seen studied systematically but that might just be the greatest of all. Humility—not as self-hating, but as self-knowledge and acceptance—allows you to take off your mask. Pretension and image maintenance are extremely taxing work and demand a lot of energy. Truthfully saying “I don’t know,” not competing for first place in every social arena, and just being your imperfect self can be a huge load lifted from your shoulders. As one well-known actor told me, he craves time in far-away countries, because in a place where people don’t recognize him on the street, he can be his true self and “just another dude.”

Many people take pills to help them relax. The red pill of humility might, in fact, be the most effective medicine. No prescription required.


This article originally misidentified Norvin Richards as a philosopher and linguist. In fact, he is a philosopher only; his son, also named Norvin Richards, is a linguist.

Arthur Brooks is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and the host of the How to Build a Happy Life podcast.