It’s a feeling many of us experience but few will openly admit, a flicker of satisfaction when someone else messes up. Maybe it’s a celebrity caught in a scandal, a colleague who finally faces consequences, or someone on social media who stops looking so perfect. There’s even a word for it, schadenfreude, the German term for joy at another’s misfortune.
Why do we feel this way? And what does it say about us?
Schadenfreude is part of being human. We’re social creatures wired to compare ourselves to others. In doing so, we figure out where we stand. When someone who seems more successful or attractive stumbles, it can give us a strange sense of relief, like we’re not so far behind after all. Their fall, especially if we viewed them as smug or ‘too perfect’, can feel like a win for the rest of us. This is especially true when it comes to body image. In today’s world, we’re constantly exposed to idealised bodies, online, in advertising, on television. These images are often filtered, curated, and unrealistic, yet they can leave us feeling inadequate or ashamed of our own appearance. So when a celebrity is photographed looking ‘less than perfect’ or an influencer admits to editing their photos, we may feel a quiet, guilty pleasure. We can also get this feeling when we see a peer or someone we know not looking their best. It’s not that we wish them harm, it’s that their vulnerability feels reassuring. Their imperfection makes us feel more okay with our own. For those who struggle with disordered eating or poor body image, this dynamic can be even more complex. Envy, shame, and comparison often fuel eating issues, and seeing someone else ‘slip up’, whether by gaining weight or showing signs of struggle, can briefly soothe our own self-judgment. But it’s a short-lived comfort, and it keeps us trapped in a mindset of competition, rather than compassion.
There’s also a moral layer to schadenfreude. When we see someone who has broken the rules or treated others poorly face a downfall, we often feel like justice has been served. This helps explain why we may feel less guilty when our satisfaction is aimed at someone we believe ‘deserved it’. But if we find ourselves frequently uplifted by others’ difficulties, it’s worth pausing and asking ourselves, what’s going on? Are we feeling insecure, unseen, or not good enough? Are we holding ourselves to impossible standards, especially around appearance, success, or social approval? Recognising these feelings without judgment is the first step. It’s natural to feel relief when we see we’re not alone in our struggles. But it’s even more powerful to turn that awareness into empathy, for others, and for us.
No one wins in a world where we secretly hope others fall so we can feel okay. True confidence and connection come not from comparison, but from recognising that we’re all just human, flawed, trying, and worthy of kindness.
