Narcissism in leadership: a healthy dose far exceeded by some (and what we must do about it)

After studying the human brain for over 30 years now, and being involved in multiple leader-development programs (their inception, development and facilitation, research on the topic, etc.) as long, I would like to share a thought with you. The book I consider as one of the best sources of information on leadership - Leadership: Theory and Practice compiled and edited by Peter Northouse - clearly delineates 'constructive narcissism' from 'reactive narcissism':

"In leadership roles, constructive narcissists tend to be relatively well balanced and have vitality and a sense of self-esteem, capacity for introspection, and empathy. They inspire others not only to be better at what they do, but also to entirely change what they do. Reactive, or excessive, narcissistic leaders, on the other hand... are fixated on issues of power, status, prestige, and superiority. They are often driven toward achievement and attainment by the need to get even for perceived slights... (they) rarely consult with others... operate in their own reality, and without any measures of control or reality testing..." (Chapter 12 written by Manfred F.R. Kets de Vries and Alicia Cheak)

In the same chapter, Kets de Vries and Cheak also write elegantly about "folie a deux" or shared madness: a leader-follower collusion where the delusions of a dominant person (the so-called leader) become adopted by others (so-called followers), something resulting in the ultimate destruction of both parties.

Narcissism, therefore, is not a priori a bad thing in leadership: it is necessary to some degree - a medicine, if you will, that can help leaders and followers alike; but if inappropriately dosed, the medicine becomes a poison.

The most 'clinically obvious' example of the toxic form of narcissistic leadership we have today is that of Donald Trump (see the great 2015 article by Jeffrey Kluger). And, yes, even though Trump has not been formally diagnosed by his psychiatrist or psychologist (mainly because he likely doesn't have one nor would ever admit publicly if he did), the topic has been one of intense interest by many (like 'The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump: 37 Psychiatrists and Mental Health Experts Assess a President' by Brandy Lee, MD, MDiv -- and the accompanying book review/editorial by Jerome Kroll). As summarized by Kroll:

"To many psychiatrists, President Trump's statements and behaviors were patently symptomatic of one or several mental disorders.

The authors of the 28 chapters (including Prologue, Introduction, and Epilogue) are not in full agreement as to the details of what they believe ails President Trump, but all concur that he is mentally ill or dangerous (by virtue of being president) or both."

Whilst there is some disagreement with the definitive 'issue', as there always should be in these matters (diagnosing mental disorders is generally a messy thing because of the vast overlapping symptomatology of supposedly 'different' pathological states), the impacts of his tenure as President, as well as the onslaught of viscous attacks on the democratic process since losing the 2020 election, are utterly clear: the world has been made a much more precarious place with him at any bully pulpit.

I mention these with the hopes that we will NOT attack each other (or anyone attack me for my thoughts), but to request that we carefully look at how we most likely share primary core values around love, support, compassion -- it's how we chose to put them in practice that differs. To be sure, we know that dehumanizing language unfortunately activates neuronal pathways that bypass higher cognitive reasoning centers, and if done repetitively this leading us to (literally) hardwire ourselves into states of exclusion and division (see this for a nice recent review).

Indeed, most of the world does not fall much onto the sociopathic (or psychopathic) spectrum that Trump likely does (clinically speaking); many of us share the most basic human instincts of community, socialism (in the humanistic way, not necessarily in the political way), kindness, generosity, etc. As mentioned above, what often differs is how we express them. (A wonderful example of this discussion is "Right & Wrong About Right & Wrong" by Paul Stearns.)

What this means in the present discussion is that most political discourse, be it Anti- or Pro-Trump, is better focused on our primary ethical/moral values, using language that does not attack (or dehumanize) any particular person. Please note, suggesting Trump is a narcissist or shows signs of sociopathy/psychopathy is not 'attacking him' as it is trying to speak in more dispassionate and objective ('clinical') ways.

To be clear and open, I was raised in the uber-Republican state of Wyoming, I personally met people like Dick Cheney, Al Simpson, and others during my childhood and early adult life. Most of my family and friends were and still are Republicans. And, yes, many of them voted for Trump in 2016. And I understand why: Most of us were utterly exhausted by a less-than-ideal governmental approach that appeared more nepotism than meritocracy. What those in my inner circle failed to do, in my opinion, is think through their anger and desire for change: in wanting to flip the proverbial finger to those in charge, they inadvertently give the keys of the kingdom to a madman. Their frustration and desire to STOP being subjected to politicians like the Clintons or others was all to real (and even understandable).

The 'inadvertent' results of my family and friends reminds me to ask us all to remember that many involved in past decisions didn't 'mean' to wreak havoc amongst us all, but they DID. Intent is distinctly different than impact, as is a well-known fact, so we should focus how we can minimize the negative sequalae going forward, not dwelling on the shortcomings of the past (noting that we MUST talk, openly, about the past - not stopping the discussions, but reflecting on how it led us to the current situation). We can also continue educating ourselves on the destructive impacts of vitriolic rhetoric, calling it out as unacceptable when we hear it, and encouraging others to see us all as part of the collective solution; all are good starting points, but none of them will be sufficient to get us to the end we all (likely want). To this end, I applaud the recent opinion piece by Reverend Dr. Russell J. Levenson, Jr, a Texas-based minister at St. Martin's Episcopal Church where George H.W. Bush and his family attended. Poignantly, Dr. Levenson states:

"How unlike Bush is the severely morally challenged GOP of today, with failings that eclipse?even those of former President Richard Nixon.?We are where we are largely because of former President Donald Trump, with his history of?sex abuse,?shady corporate business deals, abuse of presidential office to?attack his perceived enemies?— and other transgressions too numerous to name. Yet, for some reason — either by design or default — the GOP is?failing to hold him to account.

Trump is not in this alone, by the way. Jim Jordan, Matt Goetz, Marjorie Taylor Greene, Chris Collins, Tom Cotton, Tim Scott, and many many others likely fall into (and are swimming still in) the reactive narcissistic pool.

We are, therefore, in a rightful mess not just because of Trump's unfortunate mental wiring, but because many within and outside the GOP have failed to advance the discussions - and our collective positive actions - as they might have been. Thankfully, as I've penned elsewhere, we all do not need to suffer when those in power (so-called leaders) 'fall down.' The ultimate base of power in this world is not in the hands of a few (mostly 'male, pale and stale'), but in the common person:

The power of leadership, then, is NOT in the hands of the leader — it is in the followers. When a leader fails to embody true leadership or to act in the best interests of the followers, the followers are not at the mercy of the leader, they are not unable to alter the course of the activities, the relationship or the future.

What we do now and in the immediate future will have serious ramifications far into the future. No, we can't sit idly and silent, but we also can't attack each other (literally, verbally or metaphorically). We must rise above this by refocusing our actions, reframing our approach(es), reconnecting with one another, and seeing that the greatest failed social experiment of all time (that of electing Trump to the office of President in 2016) must NOT be repeated in 2024. We can get past this but only if we rid ourselves of the ultimate reactive narcissists. Many will struggle to fully admit their bets were hedged and the results showed a huge loss, but admitting the faults of the past at the expense of a better future is not the best way to move forward.