I’ve been sitting with a troubling thought for quite some time. A recent international study finally gave it a name.
More than 45,000 people across 53 countries were assessed on a personality trait called narcissistic rivalry - and Germany ranked highest.
Before anyone gets offended: this is not about clinical narcissism.
It is about something far more common - and, in my view, far more relevant for leadership.
Unlike narcissistic admiration, which seeks recognition, narcissistic rivalry protects status by criticizing, correcting, outperforming, and subtly diminishing others - the very dimension on which Germany ranked highest.
One study never explains a country. But sometimes it gives language to something you’ve been observing for years.
Over the last decade, I’ve worked with hundreds of executive teams. One pattern keeps repeating itself.
Someone presents a bold idea. Within minutes, the discussion shifts - not toward possibility, but toward flaws.
Who spots the biggest risk? Who asks the sharpest critical question? Who demonstrates superior judgment?
Somewhere along the way, we confused criticism with competence.
Critical thinking is one of Germany’s greatest strengths. But there is a profound difference between critical thinking and a culture where criticism becomes a source of status. One expands reality. The other protects identity.
When your identity is built on being the expert, every disruptive idea becomes psychologically expensive. If my value comes from knowing, your new idea threatens me. If my identity comes from being right, your success becomes my problem.
That is not strategy. It is self-protection.
Innovation requires experimentation, experimentation requires uncertainty, and uncertainty requires leaders who can tolerate not knowing. Rivalry struggles with all three.
A culture that rewards certainty over exploration, expertise over learning, and criticism over experimentation should not be surprised when transformation slows down.
That’s not just a German problem.
It’s a human problem.
Germany may simply be experiencing it earlier - and more visibly - than many others.
For decades, we have become exceptionally good at protecting yesterday—and not nearly as good at creating tomorrow.
Every success creates an identity. Every identity eventually becomes a prison.
The question is never whether you can defend it.
The question is whether you can outgrow it before reality forces you to.