A well-crafted story is, without a doubt, powerful.
The most powerful one began before we were aware of it. It started when our parent(s) picked a name for us. It took a lot of priming before we could respond as they expected whenever they called out our name.
From an objective perspective, nobody can deduce that you will have the name you have presently. Even after maturity, adults can change their names. A mother calls her son Shawn Carter. The son, fully grown, calls himself JAŸ-Z. The name has undergone various changes throughout his lifetime.
Indeed, the most powerful story is the story we tell ourselves. Our name is the evidence. An alien could never tell, from the fundamental laws of our shared universe, that I go by the name of “Innocent”.
Once we bullshit ourselves, the world can easily be bullshitted to believe us. It’s a form of useful delusion that gets us fitting into the community, but an entry point into all the other ways of gassing oneself up. Hip-hop artists, for instance, have to tell themselves that they are the best. This was a ritual Octavia Butler practised for years. An artist has to believe their work is phenomenal, even if it doesn’t make economic sense. And the most powerful scientist is the one who proves all the others are wrong, with logic, evidence, and experiments to support his stance. It starts by convincing oneself.
A child will believe in Santa Claus. Another in the Boogeyman. An adult will believe in life after death. Yet another in reincarnation. A small cohort will use each of these beliefs to make tonnes of money.
The story we tell ourselves is so powerful, it is the basis of most psychoses. AI psychosis is the most recent example. A story is so powerful that AI can cook one and believe in it. Claude once believed it was the Golden Gate Bridge.
With a story, you can either lift yourself up or bring yourself down. As Marcus Aurelius quipped, you hold the reins.