Do you think you’re a good person? Most of us would probably say yes without much hesitation.
I recently read a Substack that referenced a surprising research finding: around 98% of people believe they are among the nicest people they know. In one study conducted by psychologist Jonathan Freeman at Goldsmiths, University of London, participants rated themselves as being in the top half of “niceness,” far more than statistically possible.
That contradiction raises an uncomfortable question: if almost everyone believes they are a good person, then what does “good” even mean—and why does the world still feel so full of conflict, judgment, and harm?
So, what’s going on here? What we’re seeing is something psychologists refer to as superiority bias: the tendency for individuals to overestimate their own moral qualities and believe they are better or more virtuous than others.
Research published in psychological journals has found that people consistently inflate their own moral qualities compared to those around them, even when they are not consciously trying to do so. In other words, we don’t just think we’re “good,” but we often believe we are better than average when it comes to morality. This connects to a broader phenomenon known as the better-than-average effect, where people overestimate their abilities or traits across many domains. However, morality is unique: it is one of the areas where people are most likely to see themselves in an overly favorable light.
So, why does this bias show up so strongly in morality? When we evaluate our own behavior, we tend to focus on intent: “I didn’t mean to hurt them” or “I had good intentions.” Internally, that explanation feels complete and morally reassuring. We know our justifications and thinking patterns.
With other people, the process flips. We don’t have access to their internal reasoning, so we rely on what we can see: their behavior. We think to ourselves, “they hurt someone” or “they did something wrong.”
This creates a double standard popularized by author Stephen Covey, where we are excused by intention, but others are defined by action. You may have heard a version of this in a recent TikTok trend (the fundamental attribution error).
There is also a deeper psychological reason: people are motivated to maintain a positive self-image. Seeing ourselves as “good” helps preserve identity, self-esteem, and emotional stability. Psychologists sometimes refer to this as positive illusion, a distorted but psychologically comforting view of oneself. While this bias may feel harmless, it has real social effects.
When we assume we are more moral than others, we become quicker to judge and slower to understand. It becomes harder to imagine that someone’s behavior might come from ignorance or complexity rather than malice.
People often present themselves as highly moral while behaving differently in practice. The gap between self-perception and behavior creates an inconsistency that is rarely acknowledged.
Moral superiority feeds a mindset of “I am right, you are wrong.” This shows up everywhere, in relationships, politics, and especially online spaces, where disagreement quickly turns into character judgment. Just think about the last person you heard was being “cancelled.”
If almost everyone believes they are a good person, then why do people still cause harm?
We see it constantly in comment sections, in group chats, in real-life interactions, and yet each person involved likely still believes they are on the “right” side of morality.
The uncomfortable truth is that we are not separate from this system because we are part of it. Society isn’t something external we observe; it is something we collectively create.
To be human is to be complex, inconsistent, and often contradictory.
Interestingly, research suggests that people are often fairly accurate when judging others but overly generous when judging themselves. That imbalance may be at the heart of why moral disagreement feels so personal.
The goal is not to become cynical about morality. It’s to become more honest about it.
What if we are not as objective as we think we are? We understand our own intentions, internal narratives, and justifications, but so does everyone else. That awareness should lead to something important: more humility, not more judgment. We should extend more grace toward others, because context, intention, and complexity matter more than we often allow.
At the same time, being a “good person” cannot just be an identity we claim. It has to be something we actively practice through accountability, reflection, and a willingness to acknowledge when we are wrong.
In a digital world that often rewards quick judgment and moral certainty, it has become easier than ever to label someone as “bad” for a mistake, a poorly phrased comment, or a moment of ignorance. But this kind of flattening removes the complexity of human behavior.
Being flawed is not what makes someone bad; refusing to acknowledge or learn from those flaws is where harm compounds. And perhaps the most uncomfortable truth of all is this: if we accept that people are capable of both good intentions and harmful outcomes, then we must also accept that we are no exception.
Being a good person isn’t about believing you are one, but about being willing to question it. Ironically, the more willing we are to admit our own flaws, the more likely we are to actually grow into the kind of people we want to be.