Introduction: The Question of Wanting

Every day, millions of people make purchasing decisions, career choices, and lifestyle changes. We assume these decisions stem from our individual preferences, rational thinking, and personal needs. But what if this assumption is fundamentally wrong? What if our desires—those deep wants that seem to come from within our authentic selves—are actually shaped by forces outside our awareness?

This is the provocative claim of French-American philosopher René Girard (1923-2015), who revolutionized our understanding of human behavior through his theory of mimetic desire. According to Girard:

“Man is the creature who does not know what to desire, and he turns to others in order to make up his mind.”

R. Girard

We want what others want, not because of any intrinsic value in the objects of our desire, but because we unconsciously imitate the desires of those around us.

This idea challenges one of our most cherished beliefs: that we are autonomous individuals with unique, self-generated desires. As Girard bluntly states, “Individualism is a formidable lie.” Instead, he proposes that human desire is inherently mimetic—a term derived from the Greek word for “imitation.” We don’t just copy behaviors or skills; we copy desires themselves.

The Triangular Nature of Desire

Girard’s insight begins with a simple observation: desire is never a simple, direct relationship between a person and an object. Instead, it forms what he calls a “triangular” relationship involving three elements: the desiring subject, a model (often a rival), and the desired object.

Consider a common scenario that playground observers know well. A toddler playing happily with a toy suddenly drops it when another child picks up a different toy. But then—almost magically—the first child suddenly desires the toy that the second child is now holding. This isn’t because the toy suddenly became more interesting; it’s because it has been “contaminated” by the other child’s desire. The child’s desire for the object has been triangulated through this new model.

In more sophisticated terms, we don’t desire objects because they have intrinsic value—we desire them because someone else (whom we admire, fear, or compete with) also desires them. The object becomes valuable not because of its inherent qualities, but because it represents what the model wants. As one contemporary interpreter puts it, “We want what others want. We want it because they want it.”

This triangular structure explains why the same object can suddenly become highly desirable when someone we respect expresses interest in it, or why it can become completely uninteresting once the coveted object is no longer wanted by others. The object’s value fluctuates based not on its properties, but on the intensity of the desire surrounding it.

Learning to Want: The Social Construction of Desire

If desire isn’t primarily about objects, then what drives our wanting? Girard’s answer is both unsettling and illuminating: we learn what to want by observing what others want. From infancy, humans are hard-wired to mimic others. Research in neuroscience has shown that we possess “mirror neurons”—nerve cells that fire not only when we perform an action, but also when we observe someone else performing it. This neurological foundation makes us natural mimics.

But according to Girard, our mimetic capacity extends far beyond mere behavior. We mimic desire itself. When we see someone we admire expressing enthusiasm for a particular object, activity, or lifestyle, we begin to see that thing through their eyes. We don’t just copy their behavior; we begin to want what they want.

This process operates on multiple levels. We have “nearby models”—people in our immediate environment like family members, friends, mentors, and colleagues. Their desires directly influence our own. A child might develop a sudden interest in classical music because her father, whom she admires, plays it. A college student might choose a particular major because a respected professor expresses enthusiasm for that field.

We also have “faraway models”—people we observe from a distance, such as celebrities, historical figures, or social media influencers. Their desires shape ours through media representation and cultural narrative. When we see celebrities promoting certain brands, attending exclusive events, or living particular lifestyles, we begin to associate those things with the glamour and success they represent.

The process is largely unconscious. We rarely stop to think, “I’m choosing this because someone I admire wants it.” Instead, the desire appears to arise spontaneously within us, giving us the illusion of autonomous choice. As Girard notes, “Imitation is inevitable. So we can’t just stop imitating.”

Everyday Examples of Mimetic Desire

The theory of mimetic desire illuminates numerous aspects of human behavior that might otherwise seem puzzling. Consumer culture provides perhaps the clearest examples. Advertisers understand that people don’t buy products primarily for their functional properties; they buy them to emulate the desires of others. A luxury car isn’t just transportation—it’s a symbol that says, “I am the kind of person who can afford luxury cars, and therefore I am successful and desirable.”

Social media has intensified this dynamic. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok create an endless stream of others’ desired objects, experiences, and lifestyles. When we see friends posting about exotic vacations, career achievements, or new possessions, we don’t simply observe—we begin to want these things for ourselves. The carefully curated feeds of others become a master class in what to desire.

Fashion and trend cycles provide another clear illustration. Styles become “in” not because of any inherent aesthetic superiority, but because enough people with influence and status begin to desire them. The same item of clothing can go from being unfashionable to highly desirable to outdated again, depending entirely on the social dynamics of desire.

Career and educational choices often follow mimetic patterns. When certain professions become glamorous through media representation or when prestigious universities are promoted as the ultimate goal, large numbers of people suddenly begin desiring these paths. The competition intensifies not because the opportunities have increased, but because the mimetic desire for them has spread.

Even personal characteristics can become objects of mimetic desire. Someone might develop a sudden interest in developing certain traits—like assertiveness, creativity, or business acumen—after observing admired individuals possessing these qualities. The desire isn’t for the traits themselves, but for what they represent: a pathway to being like the model.

The Dark Side: From Mimicry to Rivalry

While mimetic desire helps us learn what to value and facilitates social bonding, it also contains the seeds of conflict. When multiple people desire the same object that cannot be shared—career advancement, romantic relationships, exclusive access, or social status—mimetic desire inevitably leads to rivalry.

The model becomes the obstacle. The person we once admired becomes our competitor, and the very desire that brought us together now drives us apart. Girard’s research revealed how this dynamic played out in literature, history, and contemporary society. As he observed, “Rivals deny their mimetic behavior, claiming autonomous desire and blaming the other.”

This explains why close relationships often become strained when people compete for the same opportunities. Consider the academic example Girard’s followers documented: a graduate student who initially admired and imitated her professor’s research methods eventually becomes the professor’s rival for collaboration with a prestigious colleague. The shared desire for professional recognition transforms their mentor-student relationship into competition.

The workplace offers numerous examples. Colleagues who begin as allies often become rivals when limited opportunities for advancement are at stake. The more they imitate each other’s successful strategies, the more they compete for the same rewards. This can lead to “mimetic rivalry”—a situation where both parties become locked in increasingly aggressive competition, each claiming they are simply pursuing their legitimate ambitions while blaming the other for the conflict.

The spread of mimetic rivalry can destabilize entire communities. When desire becomes concentrated on the same limited resources, tensions escalate and conflict spreads like a contagion. This can lead to what Girard called “mimetic crises”—periods of social breakdown where normal structures of authority and cooperation collapse under the weight of competing desires.

Violence and Social Order

In extreme cases, mimetic rivalry can escalate into violence. Girard argued that humans are uniquely vulnerable to mimetic cycles of violence because, unlike other animals, we don’t establish stable hierarchies that contain competition. Instead, our mimetic nature can create endless cycles of retaliation and revenge.

Historical examples abound. Family blood feuds begin when mimetic rivalry over property or honor escalates into violence, which then triggers mimetic revenge, creating cycles that can last generations. National conflicts often follow similar patterns, where initial disputes over territory or resources expand into broader conflicts through mimetic escalation.

Girard proposed that most human societies have developed mechanisms to contain these destructive cycles. The most significant is what he called the “scapegoat mechanism.” In periods of intense mimetic crisis, communities often unite against a single victim—someone perceived as different or threatening. The collective violence directed at this scapegoat temporarily unites the community in shared purpose and restores social harmony.

This mechanism explains many aspects of human history and culture. Religious practices, according to Girard, often originated as ritualized re-enactments of original scapegoating events. Myths and stories frequently encode collective memories of mimetic crises and their resolution through sacrificial violence.

The political sphere also contains scapegoating mechanisms. Political leaders often become targets for community frustrations, serving as lightning rods for collective anxieties. This doesn’t mean political scapegoating is beneficial—it often isn’t—but it does explain why societies sometimes unite temporarily against common targets.

Modern Applications and Implications

Understanding mimetic desire has profound implications for contemporary life. In our highly connected world, where social media amplifies the visibility of others’ desires, mimetic processes operate more rapidly and intensely than ever before. The constant stream of others’ achievements, possessions, and experiences creates unprecedented pressure to conform to evolving standards of success and happiness.

Consumer capitalism thrives on mimetic desire. Marketing strategies deliberately create “status anxiety”—the fear that we might not have what others have or that we might be missing out on something valuable. Social media platforms exploit mimetic processes by showing us curated highlights of others’ lives, creating powerful desires for similar experiences or possessions.

The workplace is another arena where mimetic desire plays a crucial role. Competition for advancement, recognition, and resources can create destructive rivalries that harm both individuals and organizations. Understanding the mimetic nature of these conflicts can help develop more constructive approaches to workplace dynamics.

Educational systems also reflect mimetic processes. Students often choose fields of study or career paths based not on genuine interest or aptitude, but on social prestige or peer influence. This can lead to widespread dissatisfaction when people discover they’ve been pursuing goals that don’t align with their authentic selves.

Even intimate relationships aren’t immune to mimetic dynamics. People sometimes enter relationships or pursue certain partners because they seem to embody values or lifestyles associated with admired others. This can lead to relationships built on mimetic foundations rather than genuine compatibility.

The Paradox of Authenticity

Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of mimetic desire is how it extends even to our attempts at uniqueness. Many people pride themselves on being individualistic or non-conformist, yet this very desire to be different can itself be mimetic. We want to be authentic because we see others being authentic, creative, or unconventional.

This creates what Girard called “the mirage of originality.” We desperately want to believe our desires are uniquely our own, yet they’re constantly being shaped by imitating others’ desires for uniqueness. Even rebellion against social norms can be mimetic—the desire to be different becomes another form of imitation.

This paradox raises profound questions about personal identity and authenticity. If our desires are largely shaped by others, what does it mean to be an authentic individual? Girard’s answer suggests we need to develop greater awareness of the mimetic processes affecting us and cultivate more intentional relationships with our desires.

Implications for Understanding Conflict

Recognizing the mimetic nature of human desire can transform how we approach conflict resolution. Instead of viewing conflicts as arising from fundamentally incompatible interests or personality clashes, we can see them as often stemming from mimetic rivalry over shared objects of desire.

This perspective suggests several approaches to conflict resolution. First, it highlights the importance of creating diverse pathways to satisfaction rather than competing for the same limited resources. Second, it suggests that conflicts might be resolved by helping parties recognize their mimetic involvement and develop awareness of how they’ve been drawn into rivalrous dynamics.

In international relations, understanding mimetic processes can help explain why conflicts sometimes escalate beyond their original causes. When nations or groups become locked in rivalry, their mimetic interactions can amplify tensions far beyond what the initial dispute warranted.

Conclusion: Living with Mimetic Awareness

René Girard’s theory of mimetic desire offers both a sobering and liberating perspective on human nature. It reveals that our sense of individual autonomy may be more illusory than we like to believe, and that many of our most important choices are shaped by unconscious social influences.

However, this recognition doesn’t necessarily diminish human dignity or agency. Instead, it calls for greater awareness and intentionality in how we navigate our desires. By understanding that our wants are often borrowed rather than inherent, we can develop more critical relationships with our desires and make more conscious choices about what we truly want to value.

The theory also suggests that our social nature is not something to be overcome but rather understood and managed. Human beings are fundamentally mimetic creatures—it’s how we learn, bond, and create culture. The challenge is learning to harness this mimetic capacity constructively while avoiding its destructive potential.

In a world where social media and consumer culture constantly expose us to others’ desires, developing mimetic awareness has become more important than ever. We can learn to ask ourselves crucial questions: Why do I want this? Is this desire authentically mine, or am I simply imitating others? How can I honor my social nature while maintaining some connection to what I truly value?

Girard’s insights don’t provide easy answers, but they offer a powerful framework for understanding ourselves and others. In recognizing that “individualism is a formidable lie,” we can begin to build more honest and compassionate relationships—with ourselves, with each other, and with the complex social world we inhabit.

Understanding mimetic desire won’t eliminate rivalry or conflict, but it can help us recognize these dynamics earlier and respond more skillfully. In doing so, we might find ways to satisfy our fundamental human need for connection and imitation without being trapped in cycles of destructive competition.

The question remains: can we learn to want what we truly want, rather than simply wanting what others want? Girard’s answer suggests that the path forward lies not in rejecting our mimetic nature, but in developing greater awareness of how it shapes us and choosing more carefully whose desires we allow to guide our own.