Mmkay.
In a speech in July of 2015, Pope Francis called the individualism that he sees everywhere a form of "bondage." He spoke of the brand of individual consciousness that he sees in these times as a precursor to "despondency," meaning that when people focus on themselves more than they do on others, they lose something of their humanity. Compassion and care for others besides the self become secondary to gains in individual material wealth, power, and status. The Pope has frequently emphasized what he sees as a loss of communal care and of morally necessary and enriching traits such as service to the poor and ensuring social and economic justice. He has bemoaned what he sees as a decrease in care for others as a result of an increase in greed, focus on personal achievement, and immediate, relatively grand-scale gratification.
In his book The Narcissist Next Door: Understanding the Monster in Your Family, in Your Office, in Your Bed-in Your World, author Jeffrey Kruger points at modern politics, celebrity, business, and athletics to showcase the narcissism we see in our present world. He doesn't claim that narcissism is a new phenomenon. He does, however, maintain that the heights to which it can reach are magnified -- and thus, worsened -- by the spotlight that current trends in broadcasting shine on it. His popular culture targets include Donald Trump, Chris Christie, Bernie Madoff, and LeBron James -- all figures who have made an art form out of the word "I" -- and he admits that they are extreme examples meant to serve as either icons or warnings, depending on your bent. Your bent, he further opines, is likelier than ever to be on the narcissistic side itself, simply because you live in and are subjected to the showmanship of our current culture. He does differentiate between the "everyday, self-obsessed, pay-attention-to-me narcissist" - the narcissist you or I, as current occupants of the culture, are in danger of being -- and the larger-than-life examples of the "love-me-ism" on view in the personages of Trump, Madoff, et al. But his tone of objective social observation is belied by the very terms he uses -- love-me-ism being one -- as an actual criticism. If he is right, we have got a bad situation on our hands. A state, as Pope Francis might say, of individualism at the expense of the common good.
The Pope's speech in July, given at a meeting of World Popular Movements in conjunction with the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace and the Academy of Social Sciences, was actually an entreaty to the world's governments and business leaders, at whose feet Francis has laid much of the entrenched poverty and social injustice he sees globally. His view is that the people with the most power have made keeping that power their prime objective, rather than what he sees as their real obligation, that is, the raising of all boats with their own tides. He claims that those whose tides have risen in recent decades have not only left other boats in drydock, but have also, in some calamitous instances, intentionally capsized or drowned them. This particular speech -- and many before and since -- have focused on the egregious and purposeful disenfranchisement perpetrated on those who have less by those who have more. Rather than communism, Francis calls consistently for collectivism, a system in which every person is valuable and by which great power, be it financial or political, demands great responsibility. But his finger remains indirectly pointed toward each of us individually, too, even if we are not CEOs or Congresspeople. He implies as often as he can that too much emphasis on personal, individual goals can mean trampled neighbors.
The Diagnostic Statistical Manual (DSM), now in its 5th edition, is the standard manual for diagnosis of psychiatric and mental disorders. "Narcissism," as such, is not a diagnosis according to the DSM; rather it categorizes Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) as one of several personality disorders, which generally account for a broad range of traits that cause people difficulty socially, impacting their ability to work, make meaningful connections, and behave in socially acceptable ways. The list of traits that manifest in a person with NPD are recognized as:
- Having an exaggerated sense of self-importance
- Expecting to be recognized as superior even without achievements that warrant it
- Exaggerating your achievements and talents
- Being preoccupied with fantasies about success, power, brilliance, beauty or the perfect mate
- Believing that you are superior and can only be understood by or associate with equally special people
- Requiring constant admiration
- Having a sense of entitlement
- Expecting special favors and unquestioning compliance with your expectations
- Taking advantage of others to get what you want
- Having an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others
- Being envious of others and believing others envy you
- Behaving in an arrogant or haughty manner
We all know people who fall into this range of traits and resulting behaviors. We have certainly seen the extreme examples like Mr. Trump or Mr. James. Most of us have a co-worker or family member or friend or two to whom we feel a connection, perhaps because of a history of relationship or loyalty, that we can place in the narcissist category. Often these people are charismatic, clever, and magnetic, and draw us in because, in the short term, they are good company -- funny, sparkly, and even kind when it suits them (often their gestures of kindness are grand, which may impress us at first). But most of us have also experienced the let-down that comes from spending more and longer periods of time with the narcissist (a term the DSM V does not necessarily condone, as it is colloquial) when they eventually show their true colors. When they lose their temper or become nasty when someone doesn't agree with them. When they hog the conversation at dinner or in a meeting where they have nothing of more value to say than anyone else. The point is, they believe they do. They think their idea is the best one just because it is their idea. We come to know these things after knowing someone for a period of time and over a variety of situations. Often by then we are in a relationship -- work, romantic, friendly -- and we begin to wish, sometimes at first with only a small voice, that we weren't. The things that used to be funny or endearing or merely peculiar now become redder and redder flags. And we wonder why we didn't see it earlier. And we start asking ourselves, "How did I ever let this behavior slide before? Why didn't I see it for what it was? This person doesn't care about me. They only appear to, so they can get something from me." And so on. Then you are left with a decision about how to get out, or, at least, minimize contact. Or minimize damage. Because the grossest thing a narcissist does to another person is take. They take without giving. Or they take a lot and only give a little, to preserve at least the appearance of giving. The ways in which this may manifest are myriad, but most of us know what this feels like. It is damaging, especially if you have no tools to undo it. You can choose, or not, to be hurt by what someone says. But if they have used your money or your resources for their own needs and have no thought of repayment, your loss is tangible. How you feel about it may be a choice. But building back a sense of reliance on your own instincts, like repairing an injured credit rating, can be difficult if that reliance is scarred. You are now doubting your own judgment. Such is the insidious effect of the narcissist's emotional reach.
According to the Pope, and to writers like Jeffrey Kruger, we are seeing an overabundance of narcissism the likes of which we have never experienced in Western society. I am not sure this is true -- there have always been narcissists. See Alexander the Great. Napoleon. The robber barons of the American nineteenth century. Ghandi. FDR. Hitler. Their actions, for good or bad, do not negate their grandiose sense of self-worth. Whether or not Mahatmas brought a revolution of peaceful thought to millions probably did not make it easier to sit at the breakfast table with him. But what both the Pontiff and other thinkers of our time may be onto is the overwhelming sense of insecurity of our time, at least partly driven by the constant assault of images and headlines. We live in a world that is increasingly smaller and increasingly less personal. We equate time online with gaming buddies with time outside playing hide-and-seek. Families are more often broken than they used to be, and more children are being raised by one parent rather than two, much less a village, because we have things like suburban subdivisions (not to mention triple-locked apartment doors) rather than neighborhoods. A mother who calls another mother to let her know her concern for her child whom she just saw in a precarious situation is likelier than ever to be told to mind her own business. We see our business as ours and yours as yours. We seem to have forgotten that we need to have some sense of shared business if we are to call ourselves a community.
We are able to put a conversation on hold - perhaps eternally -- if we suddenly feel bored by it or uncomfortable, or distracted by something else, because instant messaging and texting isn't the same as speaking in person. We can cut people off without immediate consequence simply by switching screens. Then we are bewildered when we see them on the street and they avoid us. Or confront us. Perhaps it is valid to view the electronic and the in-person portions parts of the same conversation. But talking without speaking cannot possibly be as whole a conversation as one across a table or a pillow. In fact, in a sense, the latter is the conversation, while the former is merely two parties taking turns talking. Each in their own little world.
All of these things are open to interpretation and expansion, of course, and there are positive aspects, too, like privacy and self-preservation. But some privacy is just insularity and some self-preservation is just a reaction to regular old discomfort. We used to have to learn to get through these parts of life. Now we merely dismiss them. This is a conversation in itself. What I am getting at here is the perhaps valid concern that our pendulum, as a reaction to perceived danger and possible over-sharing (see: nightly pics of "what I made for dinner" or weekly updates on "what I think about Election 2016," not to mention oops-pics of ex-spouses or celebrities) has swung us to a more and more closed culture. There is nothing wrong with a little quiet time or introvertedness. But we all lose, I think, when we become individual physical bodies with fewer and fewer cords to link us together. We become fearful and self-protective. And sometimes that little interior pendulum swings too far in response and self-protection becomes self-aggrandizement, or, at the very least, self-centeredness.
I am thinking, as a simile, of the difference between assertiveness and aggression. Similarly, there is a difference between self-esteem and selfishness. Between confidence and arrogance. Between concern for others and concern that others be your handmaidens or whipping boys.
I don't think we are at a crisis level yet (except insofar as the Pope does, when he refers to the financial and social economies of the world these days). And I do think there is a way to balance the scales between a frightened, insular society and a free-for-all on morality and inhibition. That pendulum has a way of swinging back into place. Rarely does it slow down and remain in the middle, though, and, essentially, that is what most of us are seeking most of the time.
Maybe a little self-examination is what is in order, then. From the lessons a parent teaches his child to the way a CEO handles her company, maybe some questions need to be asked. Do you think you deserve more than someone else? Do you think you are more valuable? What does the word 'special' mean to you? And...What can you do for someone else? What is an acceptable cost to yourself? Why do you view it as a cost? Do you understand that it is not necessarily a sacrifice to give to someone else, even if it means you go without? It will, after all, benefit you somehow, in the end.
I guess that last statement is the last question. When do we stop thinking, consciously or unconsciously, of the benefit to ourselves? And when does the answer to that question mean we have left self-esteem and entered self-centeredness? When do we use the label Narcissism when we are talking about ourselves?
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