But enough about you

From Britney Spears to Angelina Jolie to robber CEOs, narcissists are selfish and maddening -- and yet we just can't get enough of them.

By Nell Casey

Jul 30, 2002 | From Britney Spears flaunting her navel in music videos and moaning to InStyle about her breakup with Justin Timberlake, to Bernie Ebbers, former CEO of WorldCom, justifying taking a "personal loan" of $430 million from the very company that he marched into bankruptcy with an almost $4 billion accounting scam, we live in an age of reckless self-regard. The narcissist-as-success-story has become so deeply ingrained in our culture, it's hardly possible to imagine one without the other. Narcissists are everywhere and, for the most part, they also seem to be triumphant. (Despite the fact that Britney was dumped and Bernie's in big trouble, narcissists are rarely truly outcast in our society. Let's face it, Britney's broken heart will surely mend and Bernie could sell a few of his vacation homes to bail himself out.)

I'm not surprised by our obsession with these supreme egotists. In fact, I'm guilty of being awestruck myself. Narcissists are effective and alluring. They're tough. I like the idea of someone who can withstand the storm of rejections, betrayals and humiliations that life is bound to offer and remain convinced that he's special. (And I don't use "he" here lightly; the DSM-IV estimates that 50 to 75 percent of narcissists are men.) The shamelessness of a narcissist -- barreling forward at everyone's expense, demanding more attention than anyone else at the cocktail party, barking opinions without any discernible evidence to back them up -- is offensive but also fascinating. "Narcissistic" -- like "intimidating" -- is one of those bullying insults that contains a hint of admiration, even jealousy, that makes it seem more like a compliment in the end. Though we pretend the word offers a damning assessment of someone's character, it also secretly portrays them as bold, forceful, exciting. So what's not to like?

"Their needs are more important than anyone else's, and they expect to be accommodated in all things. They can't ... comprehend why they might not always come first. Their expectations have an almost childlike quality, yet they can be tyrannically outraged or pitifully depressed when thwarted." So writes Los Angeles psychotherapist Sandy Hotchkiss in the introduction to her new book, amusingly called "Why Is It Always About You?" (a title that fairly screams from the cover before offering its subtitle in a conspiratorial whisper: "Saving Yourself From the Narcissists in Your Life").

Hotchkiss doesn't offer any new news about the cause of narcissism in this guide -- she follows the standard psychoanalytic approach (it's all rooted in infancy; you didn't individuate successfully; it's your parents' faults) -- but she does clearly portray just what the disorder entails. "The Narcissist has no ability to value, or often enough, even to recognize, the separate existence or feelings of other people," Hotchkiss explains. (Notice Hotchkiss capitalizes the "N" in Narcissist. Like the "G" in God.)

The DSM-IV, a reference guide for mental health disorders (also used in a kind of unofficial parlor game to diagnose all the most annoying and disturbed people one encounters in life), offers this entertaining description: "They may constantly fish for compliments, often with great charm." (That strangely sounds like it should appear in a fortune cookie: "May you constantly fish for compliments, often with great charm.")

I have in mind a certain member of my family who is one of those narcissists you have to either admire or hate (and any way you look at it, she's occupying more of your mind than you'd ever want to admit). She once sat down to dinner, told a story about how far she'd come in her career and then shouted, without a trace of irony, "I'm huge!" That's "huge" meaning important, accomplished, a star. It's not exactly fishing, but it certainly brings her audience right to the point. "Yes!" I agreed heartily. (I've never been able to resist obliging narcissists. The sheer force of their egotism pushes me back on myself, into some agreeable psychosis of my own.)

According to Hotchkiss, narcissists construct their personalities chiefly to keep their negative feelings at bay and, in doing so, forfeit their grasp on reality. The trick of the narcissist is to repress self-doubt and self-loathing so deeply, to make them so appallingly painful to experience, that these emotions emerge only rarely and, even then, not forcefully enough to check the rampant egotism of the whole personality. Add this to the fact that narcissists, in constant need of affirmation, adapt their personalities to elicit the approval of those around them, and you've got less of a human being and more of an ego-machine incapable of producing genuine emotion.

"The Narcissist may be intimidating, mesmerizing, even larger-than-life," Hotchkiss warns, "but beneath the bombast or the charm is an emotional cripple with the moral development of a toddler." Judging from the narcissists I know -- and I seem to know most of the estimated 1 percent of the population (again, according to the DSM-IV) suffering from this illness -- it is true that they all exhibit a kind of blunted emotional growth, though this is almost always camouflaged by a savvy veneer of intellect, charm and flattery. (Interestingly, I don't know any witless narcissists who might display the traits of the disorder a little more baldly.)

It's rare, however, that I've actually witnessed Hotchkiss's toddler within rear its ugly head. Though I did once see a narcissist friend of mine throw a temper tantrum, literally kicking and screaming, at the age of 29, when a doorman wouldn't let us into a party because we weren't on the guest list. "Do you know who I am?" she shrieked and then karate-chopped the glass wall dividing us from the festivities. Again, I was impressed, and not only because I'd never actually heard someone use the phrase "Do you know who I am?" and mean it.

Next Page: "Ally McBeal": A cavalcade of classic narcissists

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