In this blog post, I’ll explore and share why we cling to those who excuse our setbacks.

There’s a peculiar truth about human nature: we’re drawn to people who make us feel okay about falling short. It’s not the cheerleaders of success we always crave—sometimes, it’s the ones who pat us on the back and say, “It’s not your fault.” These are the justifier, the voices that soothe our bruised egos and wrap our failures in a cozy blanket of absolution. And here’s the kicker: we’ll do almost anything for them.

Picture this. Jake’s been trying to launch a startup for years. Every pitch flops, every investor walks away. He’s exhausted, teetering on the edge of giving up. Then comes his friend Mia. She doesn’t push him to “try harder” or “pivot.” Instead, she says, “The market’s brutal right now—no one could’ve made it work.” Suddenly, Jake’s not a failure; he’s a victim of circumstance. Relieved, he doubles down on their friendship, bending over backwards to repay her understanding with loyalty and gratitude.

Why does this happen? It’s a mix of psychology and persuasion. Failure stings—it’s a jagged pill that dents our self-worth. When someone steps in to justify it, they’re not just offering comfort; they’re handing us a lifeline. They tell us the story we desperately want to believe: that our setbacks aren’t a reflection of our flaws but of a world stacked against us. In that moment, they become our shelter, and we’ll fight tooth and nail to keep them close.

This isn’t just a feel-good quirk—it’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s a balm for the soul. Studies show that external validation can ease stress and rebuild confidence, paving the way for self-improvement. When we’re not drowning in shame, we’re more likely to dust ourselves off and try again. Mia’s words might just be what Jake needs to regroup and take another swing later. The justifier can be a stepping stone to growth, a soft landing before the next leap.

But here’s where it gets messy. Some wield this power like a weapon. They use persuasion not to heal but to control. Think of the friend who always has an excuse ready—“You didn’t get the promotion because your boss is a jerk”—keeping you stagnant while they bask in your dependence. It’s a subtle trap: the more they justify, the less you question, and soon, you’re tethered to someone who’s stunting your self-improvement under the guise of support.

So, what’s the takeaway? We’re wired to adore those who soften our failures—it’s human. But the real magic happens when we recognize the difference between comfort and complacency. The best justifier don’t just excuse us; they nudge us forward. They say, “It’s not your fault this time, but you’ve got what it takes to change the game.” That’s when loyalty turns into momentum.

Next time you stumble, notice who’s there with the excuses. Are they lifting you up or holding you back? Because the ones we’d do anything for—the ones who justify our flops—can either be our anchors or our wings. The choice, in the end, is ours. I hope my article about why we cling to those who excuse our setbacks helps you in some ways. Thank you for reading. Cheers!