By Gonny 
Blackmail is the ego’s favorite joke—except no one is really laughing. It’s the classic “Do what I say, or else…” strategy, designed to make people tremble at the thought of exposure. It works because fear works. Whether in politics, business, relationships, or even in the silent corners of our own minds, the formula remains the same: guilt, secrecy, and control.
The ego loves this game because it thrives on keeping things hidden.
In A Course in Miracles (ACIM), the ego is described as the part of our mind that believes in separation and survival through deception. It whispers, “If they find out who you really are, you’ll be ruined! Do what I say, and no one has to know.” It blackmails us into playing small, into protecting an image, into fearing the truth. And when we buy into this, we willingly hand over our power.
Politics, of course, is the world’s biggest stage for this nonsense. Power-hungry players enforce strict moral rules on others while privately bending them. They condemn, they dictate, they control—until one day, oops!—someone finds the skeletons in their closet. Suddenly, the noble leader becomes the panicked victim, scrambling for excuses. And here comes the all-time favorite line: “I’m only human.”
Now, let’s be fair. It’s true, everyone is human. But should “I’m only human” be an escape plan, or a guiding principle before taking power? If a politician tells others how to behave, punishes those who don’t comply, and builds an image of saintly perfection, then crying “human nature” after getting caught feels a bit… well, rich.
It’s like a cat knocking over your coffee, looking you dead in the eye, and then meowing, “Hey, I’m just a cat.”
Blackmail only works because people fear exposure. But here’s the plot twist: what if we stopped fearing it? What if we admitted our flaws before someone had the chance to use them against us? Imagine a politician standing up and saying, “Yes, I made mistakes. Yes, I’ve done things I regret. But I won’t be controlled by fear.” The power of blackmail would evaporate in an instant.
So, how do we escape this ridiculous game? By replacing fear with honesty. ACIM teaches that guilt is an illusion, a trick the ego uses to keep us trapped. We are not defined by our past, our failures, or what others think of us. If we stop trying to protect an image, we become untouchable—not because we are perfect, but because we no longer fear imperfection.
Maybe the real question isn’t “How do I protect myself from blackmail?” but “Why am I in a position where blackmail is even possible?” If you seek power to control others, your own fears will eventually control you. If you step in with a sincere heart, you won’t need to play the game at all.
And the best part? The moment you stop playing, the ego’s joke finally loses its punchline.
With love and light,
G.