I was waiting for a delayed flight last week when I witnessed something that’s been nagging at me ever since.
A well-dressed executive type was berating an elderly janitor who’d accidentally bumped his luggage cart.
The janitor apologized profusely, clearly mortified, while this man continued his tirade about “incompetence” and “paying attention.”
Twenty minutes later, that same executive was all charm and deference when a airline’s premium lounge manager approached to apologize for the delay.
Same person, completely different behavior. The only variable? Power.
After decades in negotiation rooms where leverage determined everything, I’ve learned to watch these moments carefully.
How someone treats the person who can do absolutely nothing for them—the waiter, the janitor, the intern—tells you exactly who they’ll become when your own usefulness expires.
And trust me, in every relationship, professional or personal, that day eventually comes.
The patterns are remarkably consistent. I’ve kept notebooks full of these observations over the years, tracking what people say versus what they do when power dynamics shift.
Here are the six things their treatment of the powerless reveals about their true character.
1) Whether they see people as tools or as humans
Watch someone interact with a store clerk or a call center representative. Do they make eye contact? Use their name if provided? Say thank you? Or do they treat them like a vending machine—input request, expect output, move on?
People who see others as tools will inevitably see you the same way once your utility diminishes. I learned this the hard way after retirement.
Colleagues who only saw me as a means to advance their careers vanished the moment I cleaned out my office. But those who’d taken time to know the security guard’s grandchildren’s names? They still call to check in.
The tool-users are transactional to their core. Every interaction is an calculation of what they can extract. When you’re useful, you’re visible.
When you’re not, you cease to exist in their world. They don’t maintain relationships; they maintain networks of resources.
2) How they’ll handle your vulnerability
Notice how someone reacts when a service worker makes a mistake. Do they weaponize that vulnerability, using their position to humiliate? Or do they recognize the human moment and respond with measured grace?
This behavior predicts exactly how they’ll treat you when you’re vulnerable. When you’re sick, when you’ve failed, when you need support rather than providing it.
I’ve watched executives who publicly destroyed assistants for minor errors later abandon business partners at the first sign of weakness.
The person who kicks someone when they’re down and powerless will do the same to you when your power fades. They mistake kindness for weakness and see vulnerability as an opportunity for dominance rather than connection.
3) Their capacity for loyalty when it costs them
True character emerges when being decent to someone offers zero benefit.
The executive who remembers his driver’s birthday, the CEO who knows her receptionist’s career goals—these aren’t just nice gestures. They’re indicators of someone who maintains relationships beyond their immediate utility.
After leaving my position, I was surprised by who stayed in touch. It wasn’t always the people I’d helped most. It was the ones who’d shown consistent decency to everyone, regardless of rank. They understood that loyalty isn’t a strategy; it’s a practice.
People who abandon the powerless will abandon you too when maintaining the relationship requires effort without reward.
They’ll frame it as “growing apart” or “moving in different directions,” but really, you’ve simply shifted from asset to liability in their personal accounting.
4) Whether they need an audience for their decency
Here’s something I track in my notebooks: Does someone’s kindness require witnesses? Some people are lovely to the janitor when the boss is watching, then ignore them completely in the hallway.
This performative decency reveals someone who sees kindness as currency rather than character.
These are the people who will support you publicly when it makes them look good but disappear when helping you offers no reputational benefit. They’ll post about your success on social media but won’t answer your call during a crisis.
Real character shows in the unwitnessed moments. The person who helps the intern with no one watching will be there for you when supporting you offers them nothing but the satisfaction of doing right.
5) How they’ll treat your needs when you can’t reciprocate
Watch what happens when someone powerless needs accommodation. The customer who berates the trainee for being slow reveals exactly how they’ll treat your limitations when you develop them—and we all develop them eventually.
I think about a former colleague who used to mock our department assistant for needing to leave early for medical appointments. “Must be nice to have banker’s hours,” he’d say.
Years later, when his own position was eliminated, he expected endless support and understanding from everyone he’d dismissed.
People who show contempt for others’ limitations will show the same contempt for yours when you can no longer operate at peak performance.
They see needs as weaknesses and weaknesses as character flaws rather than human realities.
6) Their relationship with reciprocity
Some people keep invisible ledgers, tracking every favor, every kindness, expecting returns on their investments.
Watch how they treat someone who can never repay them. Do they still engage? Or do they minimize contact, saving their energy for more profitable relationships?
This reveals whether they’re capable of genuine relationship or only strategic alliance. The person who won’t waste time on someone powerless won’t waste time on you once the reciprocity equation tips out of their favor.
I’ve noticed that people who practice quiet good deeds without credit-seeking are the ones who remain steady presences regardless of your circumstances. They understand that not everything valuable can be measured in returns.
Closing thoughts
After decades of reading rooms, understanding leverage, and tracking patterns of behavior, I’ve come to a simple conclusion: The way someone treats the powerless is the most accurate predictor of their future behavior toward you.
We all become powerless eventually. Age, illness, job loss, changing circumstances—something will shift the balance.
The person who treats the powerless with contempt is simply previewing how they’ll treat you when that day comes.
My rule of thumb? Pay attention to how someone treats the person serving them coffee. That small interaction tells you more about their character than any carefully crafted presentation or polished conversation ever will.
It’s not about being perfect or saintly. It’s about basic consistency of character, regardless of audience or advantage.
The good news is that this works both ways. The person who shows genuine respect to those who can do nothing for them is showing you exactly who they’ll be when you need them most.
Those are the relationships worth investing in, because they’re built on something more solid than mutual usefulness.
