I was recently on ABC Radio National’s Life Matters with Beverley Wang, discussing narcissism, what it actually means, why the word is suddenly everywhere, and why the label is now slapped onto every selfish ex, vain public figure, and mildly irritating dinner guest.
In the interests of gonzo journalism, I decided it was only fair to drag my own ego into the experiment. So before spending too long explaining other people’s self-importance, I sent a short, mildly humiliating questionnaire to friends and colleagues, asking them, anonymously, how narcissistic they think I am.
The results were slightly confronting.
What do we actually mean by ‘narcissism’?
Still, in broad terms, narcissism refers to a pattern centred on self-importance, admiration, image management, and difficulty tolerating criticism. At the everyday end, that includes traits most of us recognise: liking praise, wanting to be noticed, and getting a bit bruised when we are not. At the more severe end is narcissistic personality disorder, where the pattern is pervasive, begins in adolescence, and causes real damage across the person’s life, especially in relationships and at work.
That distinction matters. Not every vain person is a narcissist. Not every selfish ex deserves a diagnostic label. The traits must be longstanding, present across multiple settings, and severe enough to impair functioning. For once, psychiatry tries to be stricter than social media.
Why is narcissism having its moment?
Partly because it is a useful word. It captures something real. Many of us know the feeling of dealing with someone whose needs, ego, and sensitivities dominate the room. Once a culture latches onto a psychologically sticky term, it spreads quickly.
Then there is social media, which has given the ‘self’ a stage, a lighting rig, and engagement metrics. We now live in a culture that rewards self-display, personal branding, grievance, public self-definition, and the careful curation of identity. Reality television helped. Politics helped, especially with the rise of populism. Public life increasingly rewards the kind of confidence that can, at times, bleed into a narcissistic style.
I am not sure the actual rate of pathological narcissism has increased dramatically. My suspicion is that it has always been there. We are just better at spotting it, naming it, and talking about it. The trait may not have exploded. Its visibility certainly has.
What the radio segment left me thinking
On the radio, we covered a lot of ground. What is narcissism? How does it differ from confidence? Can narcissists change? How to spot it in yourself, your relationships and at work. But as often happens, the calls took us somewhere more concrete.
Many of them came from women describing relationships with men who exhibited strong narcissistic traits. Not all difficult partners are narcissists, obviously, but the stories shared a familiar shape. A lot of controlling behaviour, blame, defensiveness, and difficulty with empathy. The challenge was not so much identifying the pattern as working out what to do when you are already entangled in it.
That is where radio can feel both useful and inadequate. You can name the pattern. You can validate the distress. You can encourage people to seek support. We did all of that, including directing listeners to organisations like White Ribbon and 1800RESPECT. But on air it can still feel a little hollow. When someone has been slowly diminished inside a relationship, a helpline number is important, but it is also painfully small compared to the complexity of the mess.
I came away wondering whether I had said enough or offered enough encouragement. That is one of the odd things about public psychiatry. You can say sensible things into a microphone and still feel you have only brushed the surface of what some people are living through.
My humiliating survey
Which brings me back to my own little narcissism audit.
First, I rated myself on five simple questions. Then I sent the same questions to 28 friends and colleagues. Twenty-three replied. The scale ran from 1 (not at all) to 5 (very much).
1. Steve seems to like feeling special, important, or a bit above the crowd.
My Rating: 4. My Friends’ Rating: 4.3
2. When Steve is criticised, he tends to get defensive, angry, or secretly wounded.
My Rating: 4. My Friends’ Rating: 3.1
3. Steve seems to care a lot about how others see him, and he works to protect that image. My Rating: 4. My Friends Rating: 3.4
4. Steve seems to enjoy admiration, praise, or being the centre of attention more than most people. My Rating: 4. My Friends Rating: 3.9
5. If Steve is ignored, overlooked, or not properly appreciated, it really seems to get under his skin. My Rating: 3. My Friends Rating: 2.7
The broad result was clear enough. I am not a textbook case. But nor, alas, am I a humble monk who has transcended the need to be noticed. I seem to sit in the broad middle territory of being a bit up myself, but within ordinary human limits (or at least in the ballpark!).
The more interesting part was that I rated myself as slightly more narcissistic than the group did. I suspect that is because I know how much work has gone into sanding down the rougher edges. The inner vanity and the outer presentation are not always the same. You can still feel the sting without making a performance of it.
The other thing I noticed was how widely the ratings varied. Some people rated me low across the board. Others seemed to think I should be kept away from mirrors and panel discussions. It is a useful reminder that even when we think we are measuring personality, we are often measuring a relationship. People rate you through the lens of their own temperament, expectations, and the particular version of you they happen to know.
In other words, the survey probably said something about me, but it also said something about the scorers. Which is quite a narcissistic conclusion, now that I think about it.
What I have done with my own narcissism
The exercise reminded me that a sense of self-importance has been something I have had to grapple with over the years. I suspect many colleagues in my profession have had similar problems. The issue is not that you enjoy admiration. Most people do. The issue is what happens when admiration becomes fuel and how you handle criticism.
I have gradually become less stung by criticism than I once was. Gradually is the operative word. It remains a lifelong battle. There is still a part of me that wants to be chosen, appreciated, and seen in the best possible light. There is still a part that notices slights quickly. But I am better than I used to be at not obeying those feelings immediately.
That may be one of the quiet markers of maturity. Not the disappearance of narcissism, but a slightly less automatic loyalty to it.
If you’d like to hear the full discussion
Which is probably my cue to stop turning an essay about narcissism into a small festival of self-reference and pivot back to the more important bit, the interview itself. Beverley Wang was a fantastic host, sharp, warm, and thoughtful throughout, and producer Bec Zajac was terrific from start to finish. Thanks to both of them for having me. If you’d like to hear the full conversation, here is the link to the podcast version.