The Masked Man

I remember watching reruns of The Lone Ranger when I was a kid. As the masked hero rode off into the sunset, I always thought, “Why doesn’t he take off his mask so people can see who he is?” It was a fair question from a kid in a world where everyone wants to be seen, recognized, and celebrated for their accomplishments.

The answer, of course, is that the mask serves a purpose. The Lone Ranger’s mask isn’t about hiding (well, maybe a little bit); it’s about preventing people from idolizing the man and, instead, being inspired by the ideals he represents. When you don’t know who’s behind the mask, you can’t worship the person; you can only admire the actions, the principles, and the cause itself.

That’s a powerful concept in a world obsessed with personal branding and celebrity. The mask forces us to focus on what matters: justice, courage, and doing what’s right—not on who gets the credit.

But masks serve other purposes too, and not all of them are noble.

Consider the Phantom of the Opera, lurking in the shadows beneath the Paris Opera House. His mask conceals physical and emotional scars and a disfigurement that makes him feel unworthy of love and acceptance. The mask becomes both protection and prison, allowing him to engage with the world while hiding his pain.

Similarly, V from V for Vendetta wears his Guy Fawkes mask to conceal injuries that go deeper than skin. Behind that fixed smile lies a man transformed by trauma, using the mask to become something larger than his personal pain—a symbol of resistance and revolution.

These masks tell us something important about human nature: we all carry wounds, and sometimes we need protection while we heal. The question isn’t whether we wear masks—we all do—but what we do while we’re wearing them.

This brings us to the darker side of masks. The word “hypocrisy” comes from the Greek word hypokrites, which literally means “one who wears a mask” or “stage actor.” In Greek theater, actors wore masks to play different characters, but the term evolved to describe someone who presents a false face to conceal their true intentions.

Here’s where masks become dangerous: when they’re used to deceive rather than to serve. The hypocrite’s mask isn’t about protecting others from hero worship or shielding personal wounds from the world. It’s about manipulation—presenting a false version of yourself to gain advantage, trust, or power you haven’t earned.

This is where leadership gets complicated, because every leader wears masks from time to time. The question isn’t whether leaders should wear masks; the question is why they’re wearing them.

Think about it. When you’re having the worst day of your life but you still show up to work with a smile because your team needs encouragement—that’s a mask. When you’re terrified about a decision but project confidence because uncertainty would paralyze your organization—that’s a mask. When you set aside your personal preferences to champion what’s best for the community—that’s a mask, too.

Great leaders wear masks the way the Lone Ranger did—to serve something bigger than themselves. They might hide their fears to provide stability, suppress their ego to give others credit, or conceal their exhaustion to keep pushing toward a worthy goal. Their masks serve the mission and the people they lead.

Toxic leaders wear masks like the Greek hypocrites—to serve themselves. They present false versions of who they are to gain power, avoid accountability, or manipulate others. Their masks serve their own interests at the expense of those they’re supposed to serve.

The difference comes down to intention and orientation. Are you wearing a mask to protect and serve others, or to protect and serve yourself?

Sometimes we need masks to heal, like the Phantom. Sometimes we need them to inspire, like the Lone Ranger. Sometimes we need them to lead effectively when our authentic emotions might harm rather than help.

The key is remembering that masks are tools, not identities. Great leaders know when to wear them, when to remove them, and, most importantly, why they’re putting them on in the first place. In the end, the mask doesn’t make us who we are—our hearts determine what the mask becomes. That’s the Bison Way.