I love human psychology. And there's one concept I keep coming back to when I try to understand people in power: the Dark Triad. Yesterday I argued that Macron isn't cynical, that he sincerely believes in a worldview built on false axioms. A lot of you replied: "Sincere? Come on." Fair challenge. So let me go one level deeper, because I think both things are true at once, and the Dark Triad explains how. First, what it is. The Dark Triad was described by psychologists Delroy Paulhus and Kevin Williams in 2002. It groups three personality traits that overlap but are distinct. Important point: these are not diagnoses. They're dimensions. Everyone sits somewhere on each spectrum. What matters is how far along you are, and in what combination. The first is narcissism. Grandiosity, a sense of being exceptional, a deep need for admiration, and above all a fragile relationship to being wrong. For a narcissist, admitting a major mistake isn't an intellectual update. It's an injury to the self. The second is Machiavellianism. Strategic thinking applied to people. Long-term planning, reading others to use them, a willingness to do whatever the objective requires. The Machiavellian is patient, calculating, and treats relationships as moves on a board. The third is psychopathy, in its subclinical form. Low empathy, emotional coldness, a certain detachment from the consequences your actions have on others. Not the serial killer from the movies. More the person who can make decisions that hurt thousands of people and sleep perfectly well. Researchers have found these traits overrepresented in positions of power. Which makes sense: the path to the top often rewards exactly the qualities that make someone harder to live with. Now let's look at Macron through this lens. Not a diagnosis, nobody can give one from the outside. Just his public behavior, measured against the three dimensions. Narcissism is the easiest to see. Before he was even elected, he explained that the presidency should be "jupiterian," a president above the fray, like the king of the gods. He built a movement from scratch with his own initials. He speaks in long monologues, in a register of someone explaining things to people who haven't quite understood yet. Machiavellianism shows up in the strategy. In 2017 he walked into a political system dominated by two parties and dismantled both of them in a matter of months. "At the same time" is not just a slogan, it's a method: occupy every position so nobody can occupy any. The 2024 dissolution of the National Assembly was a pure chess move, taken almost alone, with consequences the whole country is still living with. The third dimension is the one I'd be most careful with. But there's a pattern in his words. "People who are nothing." "I cross the street and I find you a job." "We spend a crazy amount of money on welfare." "Gauls resistant to change." "I really want to piss off the unvaccinated." Each one, taken alone, is a slip. Together, they draw a relationship to ordinary people that is distant, abstract, sometimes contemptuous. People as variables in a model, not as lives. Now here's where it connects to yesterday's thesis. The Dark Triad doesn't contradict sincerity. It locks it in place. Remember the gear spinning in a vacuum, the flawless reasoning built on false axioms. Why doesn't he ever stop and say "I was wrong"? Because for a high narcissist, that sentence is almost unbearable. Admitting the axioms are false would mean admitting the last fifteen years were a mistake. So the dissonance doesn't get resolved. It gets defended. Machiavellianism then does the rest. Sincere about the ends, ruthless about the means. You can genuinely believe you're saving the country and still treat every institution, every ally, every election as a tool. And the emotional distance makes the cost invisible. When reality hurts people, a more empathetic person would feel it and start doubting. When you see society from far above, the pain stays abstract. It doesn't reach you. It doesn't correct you. The last ingredient is intelligence. Macron is clearly very intelligent, but it's a specific kind: verbal, academic, brilliant at building coherent systems and at arguing for them. Much less at testing them against reality. And research on motivated reasoning points to something counterintuitive: intelligence doesn't protect you from self-deception. Often it makes you better at it. The smarter you are, the more convincing the justifications you build for what you already believe. Put it all together: a strong verbal intelligence, high narcissism, strategic coldness, and an emotional distance from consequences. You get someone who can't see that he's wrong, who has every tool to stay in power anyway, and who doesn't feel the cost of his mistakes. That's not a villain. It's something more dangerous: a brilliant mind sealed off from feedback, with no internal mechanism that would ever force it to change course. The real question isn't whether Macron is good or bad. It's how a system ends up putting this exact profile at the top, and why it keeps doing it.