by Kat Wilkins
“As a child, I was abused by a family member. But when I tried to tell my parents about it, they blamed me and defended the family member. I felt so confused.”
“When I confided to a coworker that my boss sexually harassed me, the coworker defended my boss and criticized me. I don’t understand.”
“My pastor (who is also my boss) treated me harshly on multiple occasions. One day, he yelled at me in public. But when I spoke to church elders about it –even one who saw him yell at me, they told me the pastor was just being ‘intense’ and that I needed to stop gossiping about him.”
Each of these scenarios above has three categories of characters:
The perpetrator (we’re focusing on narcissistic offenders specifically) (1)
The protectors (those who defend the narcissist)
The prey (the victims of the initial harm)
This article isn’t about those specific scenarios above, but about more generally, what happens when a person with power does bad things and the people around him or her deny and defend the bad behavior at the expense of the ones who have been hurt, abused, and harassed (the “distressed, disempowered, disheartened, downcast, downtrodden”).
It’s about how common it is for perpetrators (in particular narcissistic abuse perpetrators) to be defended and protected by the people around them. It’s also about the larger system at work, which I’ll refer to as a narcissistic system, that perpetuates this kind of harm. (2)
There are numerous public stories of abuse (Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, Larry Nassar, The Catholic Church, the SBC, the Boy Scouts of America–I could keep going). It is from these kinds of stories that we can observe and describe the pattern that often plays out: when a leader or powerful figure “falls from grace,” and evidence (which often includes multiple accusations) reveals a hidden life of bullying, assault, abuse, or other crimes, it’s not uncommon for observers to rush to defend the accused.
People say things like, “I know this guy. He would never do something like that.” In the early years of accusations against Ravi Zacharias, family members and organization leaders denied the evidence and even went on to sue a victim of Zacharias’ sexual exploitation. (3)
Let’s make this personal for a moment: maybe you have never been in a grand-scale story like this (though some of you, like some of my clients, have). But have you ever tried to tell someone that they hurt you, or that you didn’t like something they did or said, only to have them:
Deny that they did anything wrong (“I never said that.”)
Attack you and your character (“You are too sensitive.”)
Turn the whole situation around so all of a sudden they are the victim, and you’ve hurt them (“I can’t believe you would do this to me?”)
(This is known as DARVO and can be read more about here.)
And taking this one step further - if you tried to tell other people about that person’s treatment of you, have you ever been blamed, attacked, or minimized by them, too? This can look like:
(you might need to take a deep breath before reading this list)
“He’s just intense.”
“You are overreacting.”
“You’re being paranoid.”
“You need to forgive him.”
“Just turn the other cheek.”
“You are being too sensitive.”
“You must be reading into things.”
“You need to think the best of him.”
“Are you sure he meant it that way?”
“You need to look at your own self first.”
“Did you do something to provoke him?”
“You’re blowing things out of proportion.”
“No one’s perfect. You shouldn’t expect him to be.”
“He treats you that way because he cares about you.”
“I can’t believe you’re telling me this. Stop gossiping.”
“We’re all sinners, so you should be gracious with him.”
“I’m sure he didn’t realize how his actions made you feel.”
“You are trying to ruin this family/organization/church/group.”
“You took something really small and made a huge deal out of it.”
“Well, you must have done something to cause him to treat you that way.”
“You’re probably stressed out right now; don’t let it cloud your judgment.”
If you’ve experienced any of these types of responses, I’m so sorry. It is disorienting and painful to be treated this way. And the commonality in these responses is that they, at best, minimize your concerns and at worst, attack you for raising them.
I know this type of pain personally. When my family left a church where my husband was working, we made it clear to church leadership that we had concerns that the lead pastor was abusive. In the coming months, here are some ways the church leaders and members responded that follow the pattern described above:
They denied we’d been harmed at all, let alone abused.
They told outsiders that we were abusing them.
The lead pastor broke down weeping and fell to the floor right after the vote passed to “excommunicate” us. We heard from multiple church members that the clear message leading up to these events was, “don’t ask questions because it’s going to hurt the lead pastor even more. He’s the victim here.” Learn more about our story here.
Did you catch that? The whole narrative somehow transitioned from us attempting to point out the problems in the system and in his leadership, to all of a sudden, according to the entire church body, we were the perpetrators and he was the victim.
What we didn’t know then, was that we were operating within something called a narcissistic system.
Let’s define our terms. First, what is a narcissist? This word gets around a lot these days. But narcissism isn’t simply someone arrogant or grandiose:
Narcissism describes when a person cannot tolerate or absorb any form of shame - even “healthy shame” (4) that would enable them to self-reflect and take ownership or accountability.
For example, if someone you love comes to you and says, “You really hurt me when you said ______,” the hope is that even if you feel defensive or misunderstood, you eventually are able to let that “sting” (of shame or guilt) enter in–that feeling that says, “Ohh! I hurt this loved one and I hate that I did that. I want to make this right.” (5)
Most people will eventually be able to get to this point. A narcissistic person, however, will be very resistant to it; instead, he will do everything he can to avoid self-reflection and accountability. (6)
A narcissistic system, then, occurs when a narcissist manipulates the group dynamics to serve his own needs. Other group members then adopt roles that reinforce the narcissist’s self-image and thus become enablers and defenders.
This means that as the narcissist relates in his sphere, there is an interdependent, mutually-reinforcing dynamic that takes place. Since the narcissist is unable to take in shame and determine whether to absorb it or to cast it off (which would require honest curious self-reflection), he must off-load the shame to others at all costs.
A narcissist off-loads shame through blame, criticism, manipulation, and controlling behavior. All of these function to protect him from shame.
This is why something known as projection can be common for narcissists –projection is a psychological defense strategy where a person might accuse others around him of things that he is incapable of seeing in himself. Thus, the very flaws he critiques in others may be true about him. As it has been said, “a narcissist’s accusations are often his confessions.” (7)
An example of this might be an employer accusing an employee of poor work ethic, when the employer is actually the one often avoiding work duties or taking superfluous time off while everyone around him makes up for his inconsistency. Another example might be a partner who blames his spouse for cheating while engaged in a secret affair himself. It should be apparent that this kind of behavior would be disorienting and confusing for a victim.
Here’s a question I often get about narcissistic people: “Are they doing it on purpose?” The answer is yes and no. When the narcissist uses projection, for example, he may not be capable of the self-reflection needed to identify what he is doing. It happens underneath his conscious awareness as a long-held protection strategy. But please don’t confuse that with meaning that he’s not responsible for his actions, or that there isn’t a design behind his behavior. He absolutely is responsible. And there is absolutely a design to his behavior.
Part of the design, or function, of this behavior is to create self-doubt and self-blame in the other person so that he doesn’t have to take accountability or ownership. I have worked with multiple clients who have found themselves in marriages with partners who do this – and again and again they ask themselves (and me), “How could someone act like this?” “Maybe I’m the problem?” “How did I not see the signs sooner?” “Is it my fault?”
Please hear me say this again: this self-doubt and confusion are exactly what narcissistic behavior is designed to elicit. The fact that people “fall for” a narcissist’s manipulations does not mean there is something wrong with them. It often means there is something right with them–their goodness, humility, kindness, and empathy lead them to assume the best of the other and self-reflect in humility. These are some of the things the narcissist takes advantage of.
The many clients I’ve treated over the years who have found themselves in the orbit of a narcissist have taught me that it is often the beauty in them that was preyed upon by abusers. They have been some of my best teachers of the subtle evils of narcissistic abuse. The very people who have been victimized are often the very kinds of people who are willing to self-reflect and take ownership, even to an extreme–leading them to wonder if it is all their fault. It’s a tragic symptom of narcissistic abuse to doubt yourself and have difficulty seeing where the true blame lies.
You might think about it this way: if the narcissist can keep the focus of attention on you (through deflection, denial, attack, criticism, etc), then it’s off him, and so he is safe from the very feelings of shame that he is so terrified of. This fragility is why you might sometimes see narcissists struggle with depressive episodes or suicidal ideation. (8)
When the narcissist has power in an environment where he's spent months or years off-loading shame to those around him, the people who find themselves in his orbit operate around him in a lack of differentiation (meaning, an inability to have a strong, solid self that is open to being impacted, but able to stand firm against manipulation or reactivity) (9). For example, in a church where elders work with a narcissistic lead pastor, the elders have learned to not only absorb the shame that the narcissist must repel, but to protect him from it to begin with. What he cannot bear, they bear for him, even proactively.
Subsequently, in this kind of system, the responsibility lies not only with the narcissist, but with the men or women around him who proactively act as linemen to cushion him from accountability. (10)
A narcissistic pastor–or parent, or boss, or partner, or any kind of leader–may never have to tell his defenders to protect him - they know, at a level beneath their conscious awareness, that this is their job. In a church system for example, this makes it really difficult for a complicit elder to see anything other than "I'm supporting this really good–but imperfect, misunderstood–pastor.”
The system gets stuck in a gridlock where the narcissist underfunctions (ie. fails to take appropriate responsibility), and the people around him overfunction (ie. cushion him from accountability and critique). It becomes mutually reinforcing, and is very hard (if not impossible) for the victim(s) to affect change in this pattern.
This is also why in a family, siblings may defend a narcissistic parent and reflexively blame or attack the child who is voicing concerns about that parent (this is sometimes called scapegoating). This is painful and confusing for a person trying to do the right thing, while also feeling that something isn’t right in the family dynamic.
People who learn how to navigate around a narcissist’s fragility can't acknowledge or point out his mistakes (as would be healthy). Remember, the strategy of a narcissist is to avoid any kind of shame, since he cannot tolerate it. So the narcissist and his protectors will see even minor criticisms as a brutal attack, and so, something they have to fight.
In my own story of church abuse, mentioned earlier, when my husband and I gently critiqued the narcissistic pastor, the elders' default was to defend him and attack us. Throughout the weeks-long process of church discipline and excommunication, as well as the subsequent months and years, the narcissist has to date refused to take ownership of even one part. In fact, he reportedly recently told someone that his only two regrets from the whole thing are that he was too kind to us, and that he was too patient with us.
Thus, the mechanics of abuse will progress long after the narcissist may have left the system. The “machine” can go on without his active coordination, because the system already functions to protect the leaders' reputation at all costs.
I've sometimes pondered how in abusive environments, people can say "wow this got blown up - the guy wasn't all that bad." When in reality, it's because without knowing so, they are playing a part in the abuse machine.
So in a way, they're right - the narcissist may not be a big scary abusive evil bully - the reality may be that he played a small but crucial part in the bigger abuse picture that they are perpetuating.
Maybe you’re reading this and you’ve experienced this kind of harm yourself. I’m so sorry.
Maybe you’re reading this and you are realizing you are a protector of a narcissist and a denier of the harm.
Maybe you’re reading this and wondering if you are a perpetrator.
Please know there is a path forward. My hope is that in the next part of this two-part article series, we will gain some insight into what the path for healing and recovery might look like for all three of these categories that we’ve identified thus far: perpetrator, protector, and prey.
(1) Not all abusers are narcissists, but for our purposes we are focusing on narcissistic systems. For more information on narcissism, read “It’s Not You” by Ramani Durvasula. For more on specifically abusive men, read “Why Does He Do That?” by Lundy Bancroft.
(2) While most of the phrasing in this article will refer specifically to church leadership systems (pastors, elder boards, etc), these concepts can apply to any system (group of people)--including a family, organization, institution, or even friend group. In addition, though I use male pronouns throughout the article for simplicity, not all narcissists are male.
(3) See more about the RZIM lawsuit against a victim here.
(4) Some prefer to use the word “guilt”
(5) Some of these categories are informed by the work of Jim Wilder, specifically the chapter on narcissism in “The Other Half of Church.” More detailed study on shame can be found in Patricia DeYoung’s book, “Understanding and Treating Chronic Shame.”
(6) Narcissism can occur on a spectrum, and it’s possible to observe narcissistic traits in a person’s behaviors. This is not equal to a formal mental health diagnosis, such as NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) as outlined in the Diagnostic Statistical Manual-5. In addition, this post is not meant to be used as therapy or as a substitute for therapy.
(7) Source unknown. I attempted to find the original quote, but was unable.
(8) By the way, I don't know a person who has narcissistic traits that also doesn't have developmental (early life) trauma. Trauma begets trauma. This doesn't mean we don't hold him fully responsible for his actions. But it means that abusers need care too. In church settings, abusive people need to be pastored–just never at the expense of the victim. I’ll share more on this in Part 2 when I explore what healing can look like.
(9) Some church systems explicitly teach members, using scripture, not to trust yourself, to trust your leaders, and to be "a joy to the pastor." (that is a CJ Mahaney quote).
(10) My word there was originally “linebackers” but I had to google “football” and ask a friend for the right word for the position I was thinking of. My description was basically, “it’s the guys who run and protect the guy from the ball from getting tackled.” In my defense, I’m Canadian. Football was not my sport until Taylor Swift joined the NFL.
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Kat is an Orlando-based trauma therapist who specializes in spiritual trauma, narcissistic abuse, and complex trauma. Her clients have taught her that pain can be a pathway to healing. She offers trauma intensives and telehealth therapy, as well as consultations for individuals or organizations. Read more about Kat here.
Kat can be reached at katwilkinscounseling@gmail.com
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