Greg the Egg: How He Approached Loss in Succession

There’s a particular kind of absurdity in watching someone like Greg Hirsch—better known as “Greg the Egg”—navigate grief. On the surface, he’s the comic relief of Succession, the awkward, socially tone-deaf cousin of the Roy family who stumbles through boardrooms and backrooms with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. But beneath the clumsy exterior, Greg’s handling of loss reveals something deeper: how power, wealth, and dysfunction can warp the way people grieve.

I’ve always found Greg fascinating, not because he’s smart or powerful, but because he’s so human in his desperation. And when it comes to loss, he doesn’t grieve like the Roys—he adapts, survives, and sometimes, he even laughs.

## How Did Greg React to Logan Roy’s Death?

Greg’s reaction to Logan Roy’s death is classic Greg: equal parts confusion, opportunism, and genuine shock. He wasn’t just an outsider to the Roy family—he was a hanger-on, a walking punchline. When Logan dies mid-flight, Greg is literally in the same room. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t collapse. He tries to figure out what’s next.

What struck me most was how Greg immediately sensed the power vacuum and, in his own bumbling way, tried to position himself. It’s not that he didn’t feel the loss—it just didn’t stop him from looking for an angle. That’s Greg’s version of grief: it’s messy, self-serving, and strangely resilient.

## Did Greg Mourn the Fall of Waystar RoyCo?

As Waystar RoyCo collapses into chaos, Greg doesn’t mourn the company the way the Roys do. He mourns what it meant for him: a foothold in a world he barely understands. When Shiv, Roman, and Kendall tear each other apart, Greg watches, bewildered but quietly calculating.

He’s not attached to the legacy. He’s attached to survival. So when the empire crumbles, Greg doesn’t throw a tantrum or drink himself into oblivion. He finds a way to stay relevant—even if it means being the literal fall guy. His grief, if you can call it that, is practical. It’s about losing a perch, not a purpose.

## How Did Greg Handle Being Betrayed?

Greg experiences betrayal constantly—by the Roys, by Tom, even by his own instincts. But instead of wallowing, he adapts. When he’s used as a scapegoat for the cruise scandal, he doesn’t lash out. He tries to pivot. When he’s double-crossed, he’s momentarily stunned, then back to scheming.

It’s not that Greg doesn’t care. It’s that he’s learned to care in increments. Loss, for him, isn’t a single moment—it’s a series of small betrayals that he just keeps absorbing. And in a family like the Roys, that’s the only way to survive.

## Did Greg Ever Show Real Emotion About Loss?

There are flashes—brief, awkward moments—where Greg lets his guard down. Like when he talks about his mother, or when he tries to connect with someone, anyone, in the cold vacuum of the Waystar world. He’s not expressive, but he’s not numb.

I remember one scene where Greg tries to bond with a fellow employee, and for a second, you see a flicker of loneliness. It’s not dramatic or poetic, but it’s real. That’s how Greg deals with loss: in glimpses, in stumbles, in moments he probably regrets immediately.

## What Can We Learn from Greg’s Approach to Grief?

Greg teaches us that grief doesn’t always come in grand gestures. Sometimes it’s awkward, sometimes it’s selfish, and sometimes it’s buried under layers of survival instinct. He’s not a role model, but he’s a mirror for the rest of us who don’t know how to grieve the right way.

In a show full of emotional cripples, Greg might be the most honest. He doesn’t pretend to be strong. He doesn’t dramatize his pain. He just keeps going.