The age of the narcissist

Is there a narcissist in your life? It’s the question posed time and again across countless books, websites and social media posts. How to spot a narcissist, how to handle them, what they want – the internet is suddenly full of such discussions. Even outside the online sphere, it can feel like we are living in an age dominated by this psychological spectre. Former White House lawyer Ty Cobb once branded US President Donald Trump a “deeply wounded narcissist”, claiming that this shaped his decision-making during his first administration. (Trump, for his part, has described himself as “a very stable genius”, not exactly disproving Cobb’s theory.) Numerous commentators now double up as part-time psychologists, accusing politicians, celebrities and reality TV stars of being narcissists lurking in our midst.

So what actually is a narcissist? Let’s turn to the real experts (avoiding the many who claim to be). The term derives from the ancient Greek myth of the vain young man Narcissus, who fell in love with his own reflection and died as a result – or rather, lost his humanity, transforming into the drooping daffodil that bears his name.

Kostas Papageorgiou, associate professor at Queen’s University Belfast’s School of Psychology, tells me that “Modern descriptions of narcissism stem from the works of psychoanalytic and psychodynamic writers like Sigmund Freud, who highlighted traits like grandiosity, attention-seeking, egocentricity, entitlement and a domineering interpersonal style.” These traits appear in the general population on a spectrum, meaning that everybody has a score on narcissism. “If this score is too high,” Papageorgiou tells me, “we suspect Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).”

Discussion of the disorder was usually confined to a mental health context until 2002, he says, when psychologists Kevin Williams and Delroy Paulhus coined the term “Dark Triad” to describe a particularly dangerous group of people who exhibited tendencies towards narcissism, psychopathy and Machiavellianism. Psychopathy is distinguished by impulsivity and thrill-seeking, while Machiavellianism is marked by manipulation and calculated self-interest. Both align nicely with narcissism, which is also a socially malevolent tendency associated with self-promotion, emotional coldness, duplicity and aggression. “There was an explosion of publications on the topic [of narcissism] after around 2008-2009,” Papageorgiou says. He considers it no coincidence that this was the time of the global financial crisis: “‘Dark’ personalities emerge in conditions of adversity where lack of control and unpredictability are key characteristics,” he says.

The growth in academic interest accompanied a surge in public concern that shows no sign of abating. Armchair diagnosing has become a kind of sport. It’s tempting for those who have been mistreated by a partner, friend or family member to recognise a few signs and “identify” a narcissist. There are 1.4 million posts tagged #narcissist on TikTok alone, with celebrities and influencers teaching their social media followers how to spot and handle these people – “Narc 101” in pop psychology parlance. But amateur diagnosing can have troubling consequences, and not only for the people who stand falsely accused.

The origin story

First, let’s look at the official definition of NPD. The American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders lists nine criteria, of which an individual must have at least five to be diagnosed: a grandiose sense of self-importance; preoccupation with fantasies of unlimited success, power and the like; seeing themselves as special and only understood by similar or high-status people; requiring excessive admiration; entitlement; exploitation of others for their own ends; lack of empathy; jealousy or the belief that others are envious of them; arrogance. Yet no two narcissists are entirely alike, as Papageorgiou points out. There are different recognisable types, including the domineering “grandiose narcissists” who “generally exhibit antagonism in their attempt to gain status” yet tend to have more positive mental health outcomes and performance in different domains, as well as the insecure, hypersensitive “vulnerable narcissists” who also exhibit antagonism but because they believe “everybody is out to get them”.

So how did they get that way? According to pop psychology, narcissists usually have a similar background. Here’s how the story goes. Responding to trauma or a lack of love or stability in early life, the narcissist suppresses his or her authentic self as shameful and instead develops a protective false self, an attractive facade. Perhaps a great poet. A beauty. A scholar. The individual may have been rewarded for playing this role in childhood and it may change over time. Yet, no matter the exact specifics, this enhanced version is likely to be charming and charismatic, designed to lure people in. Anything – or anyone – that punctures this facade and reminds the narcissist of their true self will provoke pain and rage.

Does the science support this? “We do not know much about the development of narcissism,” Papageorgiou says. “We know that just like every other psychological trait or disorder, narcissism is heritable and influenced to some degree by genetic differences. We have findings to show that excessive praising from parents in childhood can contribute to grandiose narcissism later, while inconsistent and harsh parenting can contribute to vulnerable narcissism.”

Returning to our Narc Class, the narcissist now faces a problem. How to bridge the gap between the real and false selves? The answer comes in the concept of “supply”. Lacking inherent worth, the narcissist becomes dependent on external validation to prop up the false image. The sources can be, for instance, status symbols, prizes, publicity, money, sex, and hobnobbing with the crème de la crème of society. He or she also feels compelled to seek out individuals who are content to play along with their delusions of grandeur. Yet, that “source” of supply must be reliable. The deceptive, manipulative narcissist will therefore take certain steps to control their source and so keep the praise coming, enjoying power over another.

The narcissist’s ‘playbook’

This idea of being a “source” or “supply” and how to avoid it, or recover from it, fuels much of the current content on narcissism – including more than 50 podcasts devoted exclusively to the subject on Apple Podcasts alone, with names like “Navigating Narcissism”, “Breaking Free from Narcissistic Abuse” or “You’re Not Crazy”. People share similar stories of encounters with narcissists, through romantic relationships, family or work. Through these stories and projects, a perceived “playbook” of narcissistic strategies and techniques has emerged. So do sufferers of the disorder share common patterns of behaviour, or is the public discourse encouraging people to find patterns where they don’t exist?

Psychotherapist and professor Alfried Längle explains that, while no two individuals are the same, there are behaviours that constitute “fixed coping-reactions” in those suffering from NPD. “Coping-reactions are psychodynamic behaviours which happen automatically (ie are not decided) in situations when a person is overwhelmed by problems or pain which they cannot resolve in the moment.” One of these, Längle says, is colloquially known as “love bombing”, where a person with NPD initially showers a romantic interest with attention and affection, only to later withhold it. “They want to possess the ‘beloved’ object because it provides more esteem. They are [love] bombing because they need it urgently and/or they must always win. These feelings when they fight for their prey are real. The processes are not so conscious.”

Various aspects of the discourse around narcissism do align with respected academic theories and research. In the 1960s, British psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott posited ideas of the true and false self, the latter a defensive facade developed due to the primary caregiver not meeting a child’s emotional needs. Meanwhile, Austrian psychoanalyst Otto Fenichel discussed “supply” in 1938 and some academic papers continue to use the notion.

But it is questionable how many social media influencers or popular podcast hosts have actually read such research. The content is often not only simplistic, but can verge on panicked hysteria. “Eating with a Narcissist” is one popular topic on TikTok, with influencers describing “how narcissists control you with food”. Another topic, “Narcissist Eyes Filmed”, advises on how to recognise “the narcissist’s stare”.

‘Cartoon villains’

There is another problem. Once “diagnosed”, the supposed narc can expect little sympathy. They appear to struggle with feelings of love and empathy, so it’s natural that people might avoid them. However, the popular discourse often seems to suggest that they are less than human, or as close to a cartoon villain as it’s possible to be, and that they “cannot change”.

The current medical consensus is that NPD is indeed a difficult disorder to treat – even when a sufferer is persuaded to seek help. But treatment is still possible. Through psychotherapy, “they can gain insight and learn to control themselves better; their pain and distorted experience can be restructured,” Längle says, adding that “The personality tendency remains but impulses can be corrected.”

Sufferers of NPD may not seek treatment, however, since they may not perceive their behaviour as morally wrong. The manipulation of others, and the seeking of wealth and status, can also yield real-world benefits. But there are exceptions. Ben Taylor describes himself as a “self-aware narcissist turned abuse recovery coach”, now working with women who have been victims of narcissistic abuse to restore their confidence.

“Finding out that I was a narcissist was a gradual process like turning on the dimmer switch,” he says. “A lot of my traits were there early on, as in some of my childhood development there was not a lot of emotional safety in what I could share and talk through so I started to lie and hide who I was.” While commendable, it should be noted that Taylor has built a successful career and garnered public attention from outing himself as a sufferer of NPD. Others would likely suffer loss of relationships, friends, wealth and status – which may not be considered worth the risk.

Social media and narcissism

The reluctance of someone suffering from NPD to seek help, or acknowledge the disorder, poses problems when estimating its prevalence. There are other difficulties too. Chanki Moon, assistant professor in social psychology and criminology at Royal Holloway, University of London, tells me that personality disorders are classified into three clusters. A 2020 study in The British Journal of Psychiatry estimated the global prevalence of personality disorders in the “dramatic-erratic” cluster – which includes NPD as well as histrionic, borderline and anti-social disorders – at 2.8 per cent. But that only gives us data on the cluster of disorders, not specifically on narcissism.

So is narcissistic personality disorder rising? “Answering this question is challenging due to the lack of research on the topic,” Moon tells me. Comparing the 2020 data to World Health Organisation Mental Health Surveys in 2009, he says that “we can tentatively suggest a slight upward trend in the prevalence of personality disorders, although the increase is minimal and further research is needed.” What the data does suggest is that NPD is more prevalent in men than women, he added.

Could social media be accelerating the development of narcissistic traits? Platforms allow users to project an idealised, crafted version of themselves that is then confirmed by the dopamine hit of adoring followers’ likes and shares. “People with higher levels of narcissism tend to enjoy social media more, as they seek attention and admiration,” says Moon.

However, there are distinctions. A study published in the journal Computers in Human Behaviour in 2020 found that grandiose narcissists are more likely to present a version aligned with their true self on social media, whereas vulnerable narcissists project a false self.

Trump and Macron

What about particular professions? In their 2023 book Dark Politics: The Personality of Politicians and the Future of Democracy, Alessandro Nai, associate professor of political communication at the University of Amsterdam, and Jürgen Maier, professor of political communication at the University of Kaiserslautern-Landau, conducted psychological profiling of around 200 world leaders including Vladimir Putin, Jair Bolsonaro and our very own Boris Johnson.

Nai says that “across all those world leaders, a politician stands out for his extreme level of narcissism: Donald Trump.” No prizes for guessing that. However, other entries may be more surprising. According to their analysis, “French President Emmanuel Macron scores quite high on narcissism,” Nai explains. “He has given his own initials to the party he founded, a typical narcissistic move.”

Nai notes that narcissism can correlate with political ambition and a belief in one’s own capabilities. Meanwhile, voters can be drawn to the confidence and charisma, associating it with strong leadership.

But is our age particularly prone? “We have no good historical data, at least not in a comparative perspective, able to answer such a question,” Nai explains. “My gut feeling is that the advent of social media – and, specifically, the possibility of setting up immediate and direct communication from the politician to the voter – exacerbates the visibility of narcissistic traits in the political arena. Those traits might well have been there before, but are now out there for everybody to see.”

Are there any positive aspects in this growth of awareness? Brian Comstock is a personal coach who has over 70,000 Instagram followers and offers sessions which he says can help clients heal from narcissistic abuse. The majority of his online engagement comes from women. Comstock says he recognises the problems of excessive or misplaced diagnoses, but that his online reach can also help people in need of support and advice.

“It’s crucial to approach this topic responsibly, avoiding the trap of labelling every challenging relationship as narcissistic,” he says. “My focus is primarily on guiding victims toward healing and fostering healthy relationship practices, rather than on formal diagnoses.”

But while personal coaches may stop short of dishing out diagnoses, their content might nevertheless encourage viewers to “spot” narcissistic traits, while they then profit from helping clients “heal” from the impact of dealing with those freshly identified “narcs”.

Papageorgiou warns that online content can create “simplistic dichotomies between good and evil characters”, taking the focus away from supporting those with NPD to understand and restrain their behaviour. “Reproducing stereotypes and marginalising are never good strategies for dealing with problematic behaviour,” he says.

Increased awareness may be effective at directing those with NPD, and those who encounter them – as romantic partners, relatives, friends or work colleagues – to appropriate forms of help and support. But it’s critical that this is informed by academic and clinical expertise – and it’s time we return the task of diagnosis to the experts.

This article is from New Humanist’s Spring 2025 issue. Subscribe now.