How other influence our Psychology

Pre-Reads; How other influence our psychology

Keywords:  Cleopatra influence, Helen of Troy psychology, historical influence on behaviour, power of beauty and persuasion, legendary women in history, psychology of attraction, influence in history

Cleopatra: The Last Pharaoh of Egypt

Cleopatra VII Philopator was born in 69 BCE into the Ptolemaic dynasty, a Greek-speaking royal family that had ruled Egypt since the time of Alexander the Great. She inherited a kingdom in turmoil Egypt’s wealth and grain drew the attention of Rome, the rising superpower of the Mediterranean. From a young age, Cleopatra was educated in politics, languages, and statecraft, becoming fluent in several tongues, including Egyptian, which many of her Greek-born ancestors had never bothered to learn.

When she came to power, she was not merely a monarch; she was a strategist in an age when politics was as dangerous as warfare. Her reign was marked by alliances with two of Rome’s most powerful men Julius Caesar and, later, Mark Antony. These alliances were not purely political; they were entwined with personal relationships that captured the imagination of the ancient world. Cleopatra’s image was carefully cultivated: she drew upon Egyptian religious symbolism, Greek philosophy, and her own charisma to present herself as the living goddess Isis.

Her relationships with Julius Caesar and later Mark Antony were not mere affairs of the heart, but calculated alliances that blended romance with statecraft. Cleopatra knew the mind could be moved by more than reason. Her presence, her voice, her theatrical self-presentation these bypassed logical argument and worked directly on the emotions of the most powerful men of her age. In their decisions, personal desire and political choice became inseparable. Her story is not simply one of beauty, but of a ruler who understood that influence is most potent when it feels personal.

Helen of Troy: The Face that Launched a Thousand Ships

Helen’s story blends history and myth, preserved in the epic traditions of ancient Greece. According to legend, she was the daughter of Zeus, king of the gods, and Leda, the queen of Sparta. Her beauty was said to be unparalleled, drawing the attention of princes and kings across Greece. To avoid conflict among her suitors, her stepfather, King Tyndareus, made them swear an oath to defend the chosen husband, a decision that would have world-changing consequences.

Helen married Menelaus, king of Sparta, but her life took a fateful turn when Paris, prince of Troy, visited the Spartan court. Accounts differ on whether she left willingly or was abducted, but either way, her departure with Paris to Troy was seen as a grave insult to Menelaus and a breach of the oath sworn by her former suitors.

The result was the Trojan War, immortalised in Homer’s Iliad. For ten years, Greek and Trojan forces fought, with Helen at the centre of the conflict, sometimes portrayed as a willing participant, other times as a pawn of the gods. In some accounts, she lamented her role, wishing she could undo the choices that led to so much bloodshed. In others, she retained a sense of agency, aware of the power her beauty and presence held over men.

Helen returned to Sparta after the fall of Troy, her later life shrouded in conflicting legends. Whether she was victim or manipulator, mortal or semi-divine, her story has endured for millennia as the ultimate example of desire’s ability to ignite wars and alter the fate of nations.

How Others Influence Our Psychology and the Web of Connection

Throughout history, human behavior has been shaped not only by personal will, but by the quiet, persistent hands of others. Influence does not shout; it moves softly through beauty, persuasion, reputation, and example crossing centuries, cultures, and distances. From the legendary pull of Cleopatra and Helen of Troy to the subtle ripples mapped in Harvard’s Six Degrees of Influence, the psychology of connection reminds us that our thoughts and actions are rarely born in isolation. What follows is a journey into how influence works, how it flows through both intimate bonds and unseen networks, and how the choices of others can leave their imprint on our own lives in ways we hardly notice.

Cleopatra did not conquer Rome with legions. Her power was not in the spear or the shield, but in the quiet art of pulling men into her orbit and holding them there. When Julius Caesar met her, she did not storm into his presence; she had herself smuggled into his private chambers rolled inside a carpet, emerging not as a ruler demanding attention but as a vision no man in that room could forget. Later, Mark Antony would stake not just his position, but his life on her, trading the iron security of Roman politics for the uncertain intoxication of her company.

Helen of Troy never raised a weapon either, yet the mere fact of her presence altered the course of history. When she left her husband Menelaus for Paris of Troy, it was not only a betrayal of marriage but an insult to kingdoms, a spark that ignited the Trojan War. Her beauty became a symbol of desire’s power to bend reason and redraw maps. Men fought and died not for gold or land, but for the idea of her.

And then there is the Siren not a single woman, but a figure of myth whose voice could unmake a man’s will. Sailors who heard their song were lost, drawn irresistibly toward rocky shores. The Siren needed no force, no chains, no visible threat; her weapon was a sound that bypassed all reason and burrowed directly into longing. The danger was not only that her song was beautiful, but that it awoke something within the listener a hunger they could neither name nor resist.

These women and mythical beings show a truth as old as humanity: the mind is not moved only by facts, logic, or open argument. It is stirred by presence, by suggestion, by beauty, by mystery. The influence they wielded was not a single act but a slow, persistent shaping of perception. They did not just change men’s thoughts; they changed what those men believed about themselves.

This is the foundation of psychological influence. What begins as a glance, a tone of voice, or a gesture can grow into loyalty, obsession, or even ruin. People can plant ideas so deeply within us that we defend them as if they were our own creation. The most powerful influence is rarely declared openly; it moves quietly, adjusting the compass of our thoughts until we walk a path we believe we chose ourselves.

Modern research mirrors what these stories reveal. At Harvard, studies into the “six degrees of influence” have shown how our thoughts, moods, and behaviors are shaped not just by those we meet, but by people far beyond our immediate circle. A friend’s habit can shift our own without a word being spoken. The optimism or despair of someone we have never met perhaps a friend of a friend’s friend can ripple into our own state of mind.

This creates a vast web of connection. Influence moves through it like wind across water, forming patterns we can’t always see. The joy of one person can spread across a network until it reaches us; so can fear cynicism, or unrest. We are part of this web, both as receivers and senders. Even the smallest choice, the faintest expression, can set something in motion that touches lives we will never know.

The influence of others, then, is not an occasional intrusion into our lives. It is the constant background in which we live. Our psychology is never purely our own making it is written in part by the countless encounters, stories, and impressions that pass through us. To recognize this is not to surrender to it, but to understand that we, too, are part of this chain of influence. Every word, every glance, every moment of presence has the power to echo further than we can imagine.

To understand this, imagine a small group of friends. The first person is close to the second, but has no direct connection to the third. The third knows the fourth, but not the fifth. Now picture one of them starting to smoke. Harvard’s research shows that this habit can spread through the chain, even to people who have never met the original smoker. The first person might be influenced by the second with strength of sixty-six percent. The second passes that influence slightly reduced to the third, which in turn passes it on to the fourth, and so on. Each step dilutes the power, yet the behavior continues to travel. The original smoker may never exchange a word with the last person in the chain, yet their decision can still play a part in shaping that stranger’s choices.

This creates a vast web of connection. Influence moves through it like wind across water, forming patterns we can’t always see. The joy of one person can spread across a network until it reaches us; so can fear cynicism, or unrest. We are part of this web, both as receivers and senders. Even the smallest choice, the faintest expression, can set something in motion that touches lives we will never know.
In the end, the influence of others is not always dramatic. It is not always a queen rolling out of a carpet or a face that launches ships. More often, it is quiet someone’s laughter that stays with you longer than you expect, a habit you pick up without noticing, a way of speaking that slips into your own. We live in these invisible exchanges every day, carried in and out of each other’s lives like tides.

Perhaps that is the most human truth of all that we are never entirely our own. Pieces of the people we have met, the ones we have loved, even the strangers we have passed, stay with us. And in ways we will never fully see, we are passing pieces of ourselves to them in return.

Influence rarely announces itself; it moves like a tide, reshaping lives in ways we only notice when we look back