Tips for Working With a Narcissist
If you’ve worked long enough in leadership, consulting, clinical, or organizational roles, you already know that “narcissist” is a word people throw around far too casually. I’m not talking about someone who likes attention or posts too many selfies. I’m talking about the personality structure where self-esteem regulation becomes the central organizing principle of behavior.
When I say “working with a narcissist,” I don’t mean diagnosing your colleague from across the conference table. I mean recognizing patterns: fragile grandiosity, ego threat sensitivity, strategic charm, retaliatory devaluation. Most of you have seen this play out in executive teams, academic departments, startups.
My claim is simple but not simplistic: you can’t manage narcissism through emotional intelligence alone. You have to understand the structure underneath it. Once you see the architecture, the behavior stops feeling chaotic and starts looking predictable. And predictable systems can be worked with—even if they’re volatile.
What’s Actually Driving the Behavior
Self-esteem regulation is the engine
Let me start with something we all know but don’t always operationalize: narcissism is about regulating a fragile sense of self. But in work settings, that regulation often disguises itself as ambition, visionary drive, or “high standards.”
I’ve sat in boardrooms where a founder dismissed a senior VP’s proposal within seconds. On the surface, it looked like impatience. Underneath, it was ego threat detection at lightning speed. The proposal subtly repositioned the VP as strategic equal. The dismissal restored hierarchy and stabilized the founder’s self-concept.
What I want to emphasize is this: narcissistic behavior isn’t random dominance. It’s targeted at preserving a self-image that feels constantly at risk. When we understand that, we stop personalizing it and start anticipating it.
Grandiose and vulnerable modes at work
Many experts are comfortable with the grandiose–vulnerable spectrum. But in organizational life, I see something interesting: high-functioning narcissists often oscillate between the two modes more rapidly than our models predict.
A CEO might dominate a quarterly earnings call with visible confidence. The next day, after a mildly critical analyst report, they spiral into withdrawal, paranoia, or rage. This isn’t hypocrisy; it’s structural instability.
In one case I worked on, a department head publicly celebrated a team’s innovation, then privately berated the same team for “making me look like I wasn’t already ahead of that.” The shift wasn’t about the idea’s merit. It was about ownership of brilliance. Praise was safe when it reinforced their authorship. It became intolerable when it redistributed prestige.
We tend to teach the grandiose and vulnerable subtypes as somewhat distinct. In reality, especially in competitive systems, they’re more like toggling states under pressure.
Defensive operations in real time
Projection, splitting, idealization, devaluation—we’ve all taught these concepts. But here’s where I think we can push the conversation further: in work environments, these defenses become structural tools, not just intrapsychic maneuvers.
Projection often manifests as competence attacks. The narcissistic leader who quietly fears being outperformed will subtly frame high-performing colleagues as “not strategic” or “lacking big-picture thinking.” It’s rarely loud. It’s narratively elegant.
Splitting shows up in executive teams that cycle between “You’re the only one I trust” and “I’m not sure you’re aligned with the vision.” The idealization phase recruits loyalty. The devaluation phase reasserts dominance.
What fascinates me is how quickly teams internalize this rhythm. They start optimizing for the idealization window. They over-function to avoid devaluation. And that’s where the systemic impact begins.
Narcissistic supply in professional ecosystems
In therapy rooms, supply might look like admiration or validation. In organizations, it’s more complex. Supply is status, visibility, authorship, control over narrative.
Think about incentive structures. High-visibility roles, winner-take-all promotions, public performance dashboards. These environments don’t create narcissism, but they amplify it. They offer constant micro-opportunities for self-enhancement.
I once consulted for a firm that introduced a “Top 10 Contributors” leaderboard. Within months, one senior partner began reassigning collaborative work so his name appeared on high-impact deliverables. When confronted, he framed it as efficiency. But what I saw was supply optimization disguised as strategic alignment.
This is why I’m skeptical when people treat narcissistic behavior as purely individual pathology. Organizational design matters. Competitive systems reward dominance, not relational stability.
Interpersonal signatures experts sometimes overlook
We talk a lot about low empathy. I think that’s too blunt. Many narcissistic professionals demonstrate situational empathy—particularly upward.
They can read a board chair’s insecurities exquisitely. They can anticipate investor concerns. But lateral or downward empathy is contingent. It’s deployed when it reinforces status, withdrawn when it threatens hierarchy.
Another pattern I’ve noticed: high agency paired with performative collaboration. They’ll speak the language of teamwork fluently, especially in public forums. But in private, decision-making narrows. Control consolidates.
Here’s the part that might be less discussed: narcissistic individuals are often excellent at scanning for admiration cues in real time. Micro-expressions, tone shifts, applause intensity—they’re reading the room constantly. That vigilance isn’t just vanity. It’s survival.
Why this matters for working with them
If we treat these behaviors as moral failings, we get stuck in frustration. If we treat them as predictable self-regulation strategies, we gain leverage.
When a narcissistic colleague interrupts repeatedly, I no longer see just disrespect. I see status reassertion under perceived threat. That changes my intervention. I might pre-frame my input as building on their vision, reducing threat before it activates.
I’m not suggesting we excuse harmful behavior. I’m suggesting that understanding the architecture allows us to respond strategically instead of reactively.
And honestly, once you start viewing narcissism as a system—intrapsychic defenses interacting with organizational incentives—you realize something important: the behavior makes sense. Not morally. Structurally.
That shift—from outrage to structural analysis—is where effective work with narcissistic individuals actually begins.
How to Work With Them Without Losing Yourself
By this point, we’ve looked at structure. Now I want to talk about strategy. Because here’s the truth most experts don’t say out loud: working with a narcissist can pull you into dynamics you didn’t sign up for. Even when you understand the theory, the lived experience can be destabilizing.
I’ve watched seasoned clinicians, executives, and academics get subtly reshaped by these relationships. Not because they weren’t smart. But because narcissistic systems reward compliance and punish differentiation.
So let’s get practical.
Build boundaries into the system, not just your mindset
One of the biggest mistakes I see is relying on internal resolve. “I won’t take it personally.” “I’ll just stay calm.” That’s necessary, but insufficient.
You need structural boundaries.
Put agreements in writing. Not in a defensive way, but as operational hygiene. After meetings, I send recap emails summarizing decisions and ownership. Not because I expect distortion every time—but because narrative rewriting is a common post-conflict repair mechanism for narcissistic personalities.
I once worked with a senior leader who routinely “misremembered” prior agreements if they didn’t serve his current positioning. Having documentation prevented endless reality debates. It wasn’t confrontational; it was grounding.
Role clarity is another underused tool. Narcissistic individuals often blur authority lines when it benefits them. Be explicit about decision rights. When possible, anchor them in shared governance documents rather than personal negotiation. The less it feels like you’re restricting them, the less ego threat you trigger.
Master threat-sensitive communication
Here’s something subtle I’ve learned: most escalations happen at the level of perceived status threat, not content disagreement.
If you contradict a narcissistic colleague publicly without securing their status first, expect backlash. Not necessarily overt rage—but strategic distancing, exclusion from future influence, or quiet undermining.
I’m not saying avoid disagreement. I’m saying pre-frame it.
For example:
- “I want to build on what you said about scaling this.”
- “Your larger vision makes sense, and I’m wondering if this tweak could strengthen it.”
Is that ego management? Yes. But it’s also tactical intelligence. You’re reducing the chance that your input gets coded as a dominance challenge.
Another tool I use is future orientation. Instead of “That didn’t work,” I’ll say, “Next time, we might consider…” Criticism framed as collaborative iteration feels less like an indictment.
And here’s something experts often underestimate: tone regulation matters enormously. Narcissistic individuals are hyper-attuned to micro-signals of contempt. Even subtle exasperation can trigger defensive escalation.
Reinforce outcomes, not ego inflation
There’s a fine line between strategic validation and feeding grandiosity.
When something goes well, I praise specifics:
- “The way you structured that presentation made the data clearer.”
- “Your framing helped the client see the strategic upside.”
Notice what’s missing? Global affirmations like “You’re brilliant” or “No one could have done that but you.” Broad ego strokes can create dependency cycles where admiration becomes the currency of cooperation.
Instead, reinforce behaviors tied to collective outcomes. This subtly conditions supply toward pro-social contribution.
I saw this play out in a startup where the founder thrived on public applause. The executive team began shifting recognition rituals from individual hero stories to team-based metrics. The founder still received visibility—but always in connection with shared wins. Over time, the narrative of “I alone” softened into “my leadership enabled.”
It wasn’t therapy. It was incentive design.
Protect your own psychology
This is the part I care about most.
Working with narcissistic personalities can evoke powerful countertransference: admiration, irritation, competitiveness, even a desire to rescue or prove yourself.
Be honest with yourself about what gets activated.
If you’re someone who prides yourself on competence, repeated subtle devaluation can erode confidence. If you’re highly empathic, you might over-accommodate to avoid triggering them.
One practice I recommend is third-party visibility. Loop in neutral stakeholders on key decisions. Not to triangulate, but to reduce isolation. Narcissistic dynamics thrive in dyadic intensity. Light diffuses distortion.
Also, resist the urge to over-disclose vulnerability. I’ve seen personal disclosures later weaponized in moments of conflict—not always maliciously, but strategically.
Ultimately, working with a narcissist is less about “winning” and more about maintaining your integrity without escalating threat unnecessarily. That’s a nuanced dance. And it requires far more structure than most people anticipate.
Power, Risk, and the Bigger System
Now let’s talk about what happens when the narcissist has power. Because everything I’ve described becomes amplified.
When authority asymmetry enters the picture, so does retaliation risk. Not always dramatic. Often subtle.
I consulted on a case where a senior executive was challenged in a strategy meeting. The challenger wasn’t fired. Instead, they were slowly excluded from high-visibility projects. Their influence eroded quietly. The message was clear: disagreement equals diminished access.
This is why I say narcissistic dynamics are systemic, not just interpersonal.
Ethical gray zones
One of the hardest questions experts face is this: what do you do when the narcissistic individual is objectively high-performing?
Many founders, top surgeons, elite litigators—some operate with pronounced narcissistic traits. They drive results. They inspire. They also destabilize teams.
Do we tolerate harm for brilliance?
I don’t think there’s a universal answer. But I do think we need to assess harm longitudinally. Short-term performance spikes can mask long-term attrition, burnout, and reputational damage.
I’ve seen departments hit record revenue while simultaneously experiencing 40 percent turnover. That’s not sustainable excellence. That’s extraction.
Signs the system is absorbing too much damage
Here are some indicators I watch for:
- High turnover clustered around one individual
- Repeated reports of “walking on eggshells”
- Strategic decisions made primarily to preserve one person’s image
- Public praise paired with private degradation
- HR interventions that quietly disappear without follow-up
When these patterns emerge, the issue is no longer personality management. It’s governance.
Gaslighting and narrative control
Narcissistic individuals often excel at narrative management. They position themselves as visionary under attack. Critics become “negative,” “resistant,” or “not aligned.”
Over time, this reframes legitimate dissent as pathology.
If multiple team members independently describe reality distortion, pay attention. Chronic gaslighting erodes institutional memory.
In one organization, senior staff began second-guessing documented events because the leader confidently contradicted them. Without written records, reality became fluid. Decision quality suffered—not because people lacked intelligence, but because they lacked stable reference points.
Again, documentation isn’t paranoia. It’s structural clarity.
When escalation is necessary
There are moments when strategy and boundary-setting aren’t enough.
If you see:
- Retaliation against dissent
- Ethical violations to protect image
- Manipulation of performance data
- Targeted reputation attacks
Then the issue moves beyond relational skill. It becomes a compliance and governance matter.
In these cases, collective action is safer than individual confrontation. Patterns are harder to dismiss than isolated complaints.
The uncomfortable truth
Here’s something I’ll say plainly: not all narcissistic individuals will adapt meaningfully. Some can moderate behavior when incentives align. Others double down when threatened.
Your responsibility isn’t to cure them. It’s to decide what level of exposure is acceptable for you and your organization.
And sometimes, the most strategic move is exit.
I don’t say that lightly. But there’s a difference between working skillfully within a system and sacrificing your psychological safety to preserve someone else’s grandiosity.
Final Thoughts
If there’s one shift I hope you take away, it’s this: stop moralizing, start analyzing. When you see narcissistic behavior as structured self-regulation interacting with organizational incentives, you gain clarity.
That clarity doesn’t eliminate difficulty. But it gives you leverage.
And in complex systems—especially those shaped by power and ambition—leverage is everything.
