How favoritism warps judgment at home and work

Pep is his mother's favourite. Whatever he does, she has a kind, approving word for him. Pep knows this and benefits from it.

Maria, Pep’s sister, is measured by a very different standard. No matter what she achieves—even when her results are clearly better than Pep’s—her successes seem to earn little recognition from their mother. That lack of unconditional admiration causes Maria a great deal of pain.

Clara spends her days broadcasting her successes and victories across the company. She self-promotes so much that someone has to pick up the slack: Ramon. Ramon works all the time. He is highly efficient, even over-efficient, but he rarely highlights his own achievements. He has always been humble, focused on helping colleagues and doing his job well. Ramon notices everything that goes wrong, yet Clara is adored. Sometimes Ramon imagines switching to the “dark side”—self-promotion, working less, appearing more, and cultivating relationships with the bosses.

Most people have at some point witnessed, suffered from, or played the role of the favourite’s beneficiary. The situation feels very different depending on whether you are the victim or the beneficiary. But what lies behind this bias?

When we meet someone we form a picture of who they are, and once that picture is fixed we rarely change it. We are poor judges of character and easily misled by unreliable signals. If a trusted person tells us someone is trustworthy, we often accept that assessment without much scrutiny. We also favour people who resemble us, whom we believe resemble us, or who can persuade us they do.

It is surprisingly easy for someone to win our trust: they need only the support of one mutual friend, a few shared priorities or tastes, and a bit of flattery. From there, the dynamic is predictable. The favoured person is excused for nearly everything; we justify their faults rather than accepting we misjudged them. We are more indulgent, compassionate and empathic with them, less demanding, more willing to help and to pay attention.

Even if the favourite fails in an obvious, spectacular way, we often fall back on exceptional explanations—“poor thing, imagine what they must be going through,” or “it was probably someone else’s fault.” In practice, whatever they do is forgiven.

This bias is dangerous. It inflicts pain on the rest of a team, family or workplace, driving talent away and leaving mediocrity in its place. Hard-working employees grow tired and honest people distance themselves, leaving behind manipulators and liars. It also leaves the parent, manager or coach who favours someone in a very vulnerable position: they can be easily exploited by a skilled manipulator while believing they are acting out of fairness or affection.