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Politicians are generally desperate people. They nonetheless exude confidence and advocate desirable goals to make things better for all.

Their drive is to take the lead, implement their vision of what needs to be done, and to receive credit for their work. They boldly drum up “My Program” to remedy the troubles they see. They can be relentless even when their original goals have become compromised and corrupted by other conflicting interests. For many, becoming a “servant of the people” appears to be an addictive calling.

On the other hand, maybe politicians are our own better selves who accept greater responsibilities for the ills of the world. They are courageous, caring and eager to challenge the labyrinthine problems of the modern society, willing to sacrifice themselves for the rest of us who are caught up in our own individual affairs.

Even more than this, maybe they are us and we are them in some reflective identity interplay. Since society contains significant differences and conflicts, we are always updating and adjusting to ongoing affairs in such a way that the values and identities of others must be encompassed in our own individual “worlds.”

Maybe we all are desperate in certain respects, without necessarily desiring to perform in public political life. We are somewhat mysterious constructions. Neuroscientists tell us we do not really understand how our own minds operate. Compared to algorithmic codes functioning throughout our individual organisms, our whole biological-psychological life is much more in charge of us than we realize.

If an egocentric or narcissist personality is one whose desperation (emptiness, dissatisfaction) must be fulfilled by assuming qualities needed for public success, the two current presidential candidates exemplify two types of narcissism: compassionate reformer and golden tower boss of wealth, power and beauty. They looked in the mirror and fell in love with their do-gooder and performance-star reflections. For Clinton “It takes a village;” for Trump “I am the one who can get it done.”

Maybe we all are various versions of such narcissisms. The line between self-servers and other-servers is often unclear. This is true in our most intimate personal relations as well as social-political involvements. When the best way to serve oneself may be to serve others, assessments are tricky.

Accompanying narcissism is self-deception. One conceals something about oneself which one successfully hides from oneself. It is developed over time, with practice and with the help of others. Most self-identities are constructed with some elements of self-deception. Once in operation, however, acknowledging the affliction is exceedingly difficult.

Clinton’s self-deception is her forthright, charitable honesty. Hence, the defensive need to become invulnerable by doggedly admitting no wrong. This is accompanied by the need for a protective shield of her privacy, with excessively controlled communication and limited accessibility. The cover is her demeanor of unquestionable sincerity and competence.

Trump’s self-deception is his sense of unbeatable talent for getting his way. This is expressed in his bravado and self-glorification. Hence, the defensive need to become invulnerable to loss of wealth and status. His fear and disdain of getting beat requires contempt for any competitors. Constantly capturing public attention is required to secure his need for power and self-confidence. The cover is his “well established” entitlement.

Because communication is a politician’s means to succeed, persuasive speech aims to direct not only thinking in rational-logical patterns but specifically to trigger and manipulate emotions so that thinking will follow along with minimal resistance. In a democracy where voters are empowered to choose, the base appeal will be to what the voters desire (or think they desire). The talented and highly motivated candidates, narcissistic and self-deceived as they are, aim to orchestrate the process by means of an arsenal of mesmerizing rhetorical resources employed in every possible venue.

For Trump this involves hope and fear, promise and alarm. It’s about primal passions not thoughtful reflection. Consistency and correctness are irrelevant. He provokes biases, exploits ignorance, demeans the opposition, while claiming the power to deliver the goods. His deal-making hardball image quickly switches to equivocation and dismissal when specific details are required.

For Clinton, a coherent package of policies is the rather lackluster wonky allure. Her sentiments are about the general welfare of everyone. The reasoning is about intricate policy positions. Trump is erratic, abrasive, downgrading, cajoling. Clinton is courteous, informed, guarded.

What counts as truths (facts, values, principles) will be relative to their political perspectives. They each have an extensive sales narrative, with an endowment of intentionally crafted reasoning, misrepresentations, and fictions. Whether on the offense or defense, they care about winning.

When things go bad, Clinton plays the role of the victim and Trump claims the action is rigged against him.

Considering backgrounds, the Clintons, initially without money, needed to exploit the wealthy. Not having to learn to be scrupulous about such matters, they show a history of sloppy inattention to the details of regulations. Trump had money, increased it enormously by his own drive to succeed. Hence, his ruthless exploitation through moral insensitivity and legal chicanery. Their success rewards them privileges to be exempt from such petty concerns.

Political life is tough. In the process, the human factors get reduced to pawns as needed. When things go bad, Clinton plays the role of the victim and Trump claims the action is rigged against him.

Neither candidate seriously considers challenging the existing economic establishment. Although their programs tweak this and that, the enormous disparity in wealth and power distribution is never genuinely confronted. The ignored assumption is that an egalitarian revolution is contrary to nature, morality, and practicality. People are not equal in capacities and grit, it is wrong to treat unequals as equals, and “socialism” will not work.

Equality and freedom are civil rights not economic rights. This is a democracy, yes, but it is run by capitalist priorities. Neglected is the evidence that the civil and economic rights are importantly interdependent as social realities. They are directly linked to entrenched historical patterns of racism and other forms of discrimination where opportunities for advancement are systemically limited.

Past societies sometimes amputated the foot of those who were guilty of wrongdoing. Clinton’s limp can be seen when her claims to be truthful and transparent fail. She cannot admit to being untrustworthy or deceitful. Trump’s limp is evident when his claims to always be a winner fail. He hates losers and she hates dishonesty. But the evidence of their debilitation is all too frequently on display.

Politicians are, nonetheless, images of us. We need them. They reflect us. They confront the gross multifaceted realities of contemporary life—as we participate in them. They represent aspects of who we humans have become, often quite unwittingly, at this stage of our social-political history on the local and world stage.

In a somewhat surprising way, politicians can help us increase our critical capabilities if we can learn to detect their and our pathologies. Remedies to pathologies require that we identify them. It can be a mutual educational experience in learning about human vulnerabilities. They are less likely to dupe us if we can learn to attend to how such duping occurs. Mindfulness of our human foibles qualifies as a political virtue to which we all, individually and collectively, should aspire.