You, on the surface, appear to be a story of a man’s intense infatuation with women, but its deeper themes revolve around moral superiority, power, and choice. If you believed someone was your soulmate, how far would you go to ensure they ended up with you? Joe’s answer is that violence is justified as a form of protection. This same logic is also evident in American foreign policy, where a commitment to virtues such as democracy and liberalism is often used to justify coercive intervention.
Joe Goldberg’s romantic obsession leads him to stalk his victims’ whereabouts, often eliminating anyone who gets in his way in the guise of “protection.” Joe attempts to justify his actions by claiming he acts in the women’s best interests, reframing domination as care and violence as necessity. While Joe’s character is fictional, the moral reasoning he employs—framing domination as responsibility and violence as necessity—closely resembles the justifications used by U.S. politicians for foreign intervention.
In the first season, Joe attempts to meticulously craft all the necessary conditions for Beck to fall in love with him. After identifying her on-and-off boyfriend, Benji, as “bad” for her, Joe decides to kill him. Joe frames Benji as manipulative for using Beck for status and sex, fixating on Benji’s cruelty and lack of empathy. After looking him up for weeks in a basement cell, he determines that he must kill him in order to protect Beck. In his own words: “I love you, Beck, and loving someone means you’ll do anything for them.” Indeed, Joe’s true motivation wasn’t love, but jealousy disguised as the desire to possess and control Beck’s life.
This mimics the U.S. decision to use military force abroad in order to spread democracy and liberalism. Dictators like Saddam, Gaddafi, and Maduro have indeed created atrocities and much suffering against their people; however, the U.S. is not in a position to determine whether or when these leaders should be ousted. While the U.S. policymakers may genuinely believe that they are helping the people of Iraq, Libya, and Venezuela, in reality, this is a facade masking an honest intention, which is imperialism, control, and wealth. We know from past U.S. foreign policy decisions that the cost of military intervention often outweighs the benefits, and it sometimes exacerbates the dire situation in these countries.
The comparison between Joe and a U.S. politician reveals a shared moral superiority, disregard for human rights, and a utilitarian view of the consequences of their actions. The self-entitlement and imposed authority these individuals hold make you think that God Himself has sent them to save the human race from itself, when in reality, they are blinded by their arrogance and selfishness in pursuit of control and power. This pattern is evident both in the fate of Joe’s victims, like Candes, Beck, and Love, and in U.S. interventions in Iraq, Libya, and Afghanistan: actions framed as protection or liberation that instead resulted in destruction.
Aside from his narcissism and distorted morality, Joe’s charisma is what makes him likable. He is patient, calculated, and skilled at concealing his true intentions. These are the same traits often rewarded in politics, where success depends less on moral integrity than on strategic persuasion. Politicians appeal to voters through uplifting rhetoric, proclaimed commitment to virtuous ideals, and promises that are rarely constrained by consequence, all in pursuit of power.
This form of self-righteousness is not limited to foreign policy, but it also spills over into domestic social and fiscal policy. Policies such as wealth redistribution, price controls, rent control, and minimum wage laws are frequently framed as acts of protection for the impoverished. However, economic analysis suggests that these interventions can increase inequality, reduce the supply of goods and housing, and suppress competition, often harming the very groups they are intended to help.
While Joe is able to forfeit someone’s right to life and get away with it, he still has to cover up his tracks to avoid repercussions. Politicians, on the other hand, are often immune to many, if not most, prosecutions, justifying their actions in terms of abstract concepts like national security or the greater good. Since rights are mostly protected through the government, it may decide, whenever necessary, not to enforce its protection simply because there is a greater cause that justifies a minor intrusion. The existence of evil does not, by itself, justify state intervention, especially when such intervention frequently intensifies the very harms it claims to resolve.
You is not just a story of love, it is an illustration of what humans are willing to do in their pursuit of power, possessiveness, and the illusion of moral high ground. The next time you see a U.S. politician on your screen claiming to liberate another country from tyranny, remember one of Joe’s inner monologues, where he justifies his own violence as a means of love. When power is justified by moral certainty, whether in love or geopolitics, the result is rarely protection and almost always destruction.
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This piece reflects the author’s views, not necessarily the entire magazine. We welcome a range of pro-liberty perspectives. Send us your pitch or draft.
