How to Spot a Narcissistic System: The Architecture of Loneliness (Part 3: Roles)

Do you every feel like you’re surrounded by people who make you despair at humanity? Or, that somehow, despite an obviously increasing number of shitheads, people treat you strangely when you call them out?
That feeling, of having an almost total lack of allies, whilst everyone around you enables obnoxiousness, is something we will dive into today. Because this post is the final part in our series on identifying narcissistic systems. The final pattern that helps us recognize if we are stuck inside one.
That final pattern is the outcomes, because narcissistic systems don’t just impose a pattern of values, and enforce via patterns of tactics. Narcissistic systems also sort us into well known patterns of roles. Each role actually serves the system itself, despite the pain it causes those slotted into it. If the system can convince us that these roles are “natural order” we end up speaking and behaving in recognized ways too. An easy linguistic ID kit comes in at the end of this post, after we talk about roles. Because the roles – scapegoat, hero, helper and so on - are the confined space we’re pushed into, by these systems. The linguistic clues alert you to the guards who’ll make you stay there.
For our regular readers – our beloved guest avatar Jo Shithead, makes his odious reemergence in this post. Though he’s a tad more multifaceted than usual. That’s because not everyone who’s shunted into his golden hero role will manage to become a proper Jo Shithead. When they do though, they represent more than just another awful prick the ruins your life. Because the hardcore Jo Shitheads of the world turn out to be the clearest, loudest SYMPTOM of sick systems. They are invoked like grinning, winning daemons by the pattern of roles that narcissistic systems produce.
How Psychology Sees Jo Shithead.
Psychology is not exactly a fan of Jo Shithead either. However, psychology would usually have us believe that Jos shitheadedness comes from something within him. That he is a bad apple on a tree they won’t bother examining for rot or disease. As a product of our own wider system and its values, psychology directs attention to individuals — their traits, their histories, their pathologies — which can make it look as though the problem begins and ends with Jo himself.
When we DO start looking at systems though, as disciplines like sociology and philosophy do, we get a glimpse of why Jo himself, repugnant as he is, is not actually the real root of the problem – even though he IS an awful problem. Because in narcissistic systems, Jo Shitheads will continue to drop from the sky like mass produced, high concussion-risk, Tetris blocks. Because these systems, produce recognizable, repeating, shapes of roles.
Jo’s is not the only role, of course. You yourself may be here because you’ve been forced into another shape these systems produce: the Z-block. The awkward one, that gets blamed for making things difficult; the one who 'ruins' the easy flow of the game simply by refusing to lie flat. In a sick system, you can end up as the piece everyone tries to avoid, because you make the gaps in their 'perfect' world impossible to ignore.
Now you likely know the non-retro computer-game names for these roles already. Most likely from the context in which they were first outlined. Alice Miller and Murray Bowen did a lot of the initial work describing the roles in narcissistic family systems – the golden child, the scapegoat, the lost child and the helper. As we showed in the last episodes, narcissistic systems scale, and it will become apparent that these patterns of roles repeat too – because they keep the system running.
So, often these roles are imposed. The scapegoat role, for example, is assigned through blame, exclusion, and repeated targeting. But sometimes these roles, including Jo’s role as an insufferable dick, emerge less dramatically - from how we adapt, from how we survive, and from what we do with the pressure the system itself places on us.
Because narcissistic systems don’t just impose the values the whole setup needs— they distribute how those values are carried. In narcissistic systems, some people are pushed into absorbing the distortions and the blame. Others are pulled into enforcing it. Some also end up invisible, but safe – so long as they just play along. The advantage for the overriding system is, that once this role-sorting is done, it can stabilize itself through the people inside it.
By the end of this post, one thing should become very clear: if you keep encountering people who refuse to face unfairness, and instead, put you at fault - so you adjust yourself, try to improve and make things work, and yet STILL keep getting called WRONG — there is a very real possibility that you are not failing to understand the system. You are, instead, most likely inside one, and have been shuffled into a role that allows the system stabilize itself at your expense.
A Well Known Example
Let’s kick this off with an example – one from the most familiar fractal of narcissistic systems. Family systems. This is simplified for now, but we get to the deeper mechanics soon enough.
Once upon a time, in a suburb nearby, lived the Jones’s. One of their kids, Jo, looks like he’s off to a great start in life. Head of the sports team, confidently explaining things no one had asked him about, reminding all the other kids of his successes, and demonstrating how anything the other kids can do, he does it better. His parents are visibly proud — especially when other parents congratulate them.
Although singing Joe’s praises in public, these parents are not so proud of Tomek. His name results in their shaking their heads and expressing the terrible stresses and pain he causes the whole family. For example, Tomek’s selfishness, as illustrated by his refusing to pose for the families Instagram photos, and calling them a “performative farce” — which is not framed as his having an advanced conceptual grasp of social systems for a child of only 9. It is framed as “one of his episodes.”
Jo and Tomek get a lot of airtime from their parents, the Jones’s, who are, by all accounts, pillars of the community. Church every Sunday, charity drives for starving children, and a deep commitment to their public projects — meaning their social media accounts, where their perfect smiles and moral clarity can be used to make others feel inadequate.
But aside from all the secret shaming and silent treatment at home, the Jones’s have 2 more not quite secret children. Lola and Helga, who are sort of… anonymous props. Lola is barely talked about. She appears in family photos and does what is expected of her, but otherwise, she stays out of the way. She is “easy” but, well, not as talented as Jo, her parents will tell you. Helga, for all her anonymity, is also a “good girl,” because she loves doing stuff like like cleaning up cat puke before her parents see it, or taking out the trash before it starts an argument. It helps ensure she won’t get the crappy treatment Tomek does, and frees up time for her parents to do visibly meaningful things. Like being admired.
And, to be fair, Helga and Lola do get mentioned sometimes. Like when they stop being easy. Like when Helga’s hamster died, and she refused to stop crying, thus ruining the families Easter Instagram shoot. She DID receive the Tomek treatment, when that happened, which resolved the issue quickly.
Do you relate to anyone there so far? If so, I feel for you. Through the course of this, I’d be interested to know if the more expanded roles resonate with you. Cos if they do, you have more clues as to what you are dealing with, in terms of the system around you. Because although simplified, so far, it not just a narrative device. The story represents the roles that have been observed, in different ways, across work on family systems and abuse. People like Alice Miller and Murray Bowen showed how families organize themselves around these kinds of positions, with certain members carrying tension, others reflecting the system’s ideal image, and others maintaining stability.
As you likely know, there are variations in terms of the parental part. Meaning, variations in how those with the power in the system will behave. There are more alcoholic, or more volatile versions, or dreadful-plus-enabler-parent versions. If you experienced that instead, I feel for you. It means will know this part already:
The roles for the children, meaning those without power in the system, stay the same.
Before we get to the R18 versions of this, what our example also highlights is that such systems don’t require obvious, or diagnoseable assholes. The sorting into roles doesn’t can happen in less dramatic ways — our example was the covert, more persistent creation of the environment. Where one child reflects the family’s image, another absorbs its tension, another maintains its function, and another quietly disappears.
The takeaway is this. Miller and Bowen help us see that in narcissistic family systems, there is a pattern in terms of the outcomes. A pattern to the roles that will emerge. Both show how those who act as extensions of the façade the system wants to maintain, ie, Joe. in this case, are rewarded. Those who at least facilitate it, like Helga, are tolerated. Those who stay out of the way, without breaking any rules, like Lola, are barely registered. Anyone who disrupts the system — by calling it out, or not adhering to the values and rules it sets up— is not just corrected. They become the explanation for any issues they raise about the system itself.
In other words, if you are Tomek, the blame is always yours to carry. The system itself, is presumed innocent.
Now, this depressing tale of a family, whose rented gold statues of Jesus get their Facebook posts more likes, highlights the patterns we dealt with last time. In narcissistic systems, there are a set of values — not always stated outright, but clearly operating — where image matters more than reality, where being seen as good is more important than being good, and where maintaining the image that benefits those in power, becomes everyone’s responsibility.
There are also a pattern of tactics, that work with those values.
Jo is in the golden child position. He reflects the value of image management: rewarded for reflecting the family’s ideal image, and becoming an extension of it’s greatness. His contributions to the family image are held up to make others follow suit. Which in turn supports the value of competition – competing for the approval of the parents.
Tomek fails to even sufficiently try at this – or his efforts are deemed laughable. So he is scapegoated, which is a great way to demonstrate conditional belonging. Tomek is blamed for not dedicating himself to polishing the turd that is the family image – and for failing to hide that he thinks this whole setup is like being forced to live in a toothpaste commercial. Divide and conquer tactics come in too, cos Tomek finds no allies. Helga is the helper, busy maintaining the system, having learned it’s the best way to get approval, and given that Jo will likely punch her if she turns out to be better than he is at sports. So she’s focused on the parents, and pleasing them in ways that aren’t disruptive. Siding with Tomek? Bad idea, if you want approval.
Meanwhile, Lola, the lost child? Well, she’s disappeared, neither supporting it nor challenging the system. She avoids Jo, cos, who wouldn’t. But she won’t be siding with Tomek either, cos she doesn’t want the treatment that he gets.
These Roles Don’t Stop In Adulthood.
So enough faux happy family stuff. If you are an adult, and surrounded by assholes, how does this translate?
Remember how we showed that the patterns of values and tactics that show up in narcissistic systems actually scale? Up to workplaces, institutions and even while societies, as Christopher Lasch, Jenifer Freyd and others helped us see? Well the roles repeat as well. Which is what Tomek might help you see most.
Because Tomek likely has the same perspective you do. His impression is often “I’m surrounded by fuckwits,” at least, if he is lucky. Thanks to his role works, at some point he might buy the idea he is defective, because no one else in this will confirm his reality. He is alone with seeing how this works. Lola, the lost child, can be thinking the same thing too, but she will not dare voice it.
And the other non-asshole, Helga, is occupied with pleasing those running the system, so no confirmation that all this is awful will come from her either.
What is hopefully clear is that none of these roles are any fun. No, not even Joe’s. Cos the not so Joe-like Joes can end up sensing they are only approved of for the role they play. Not cos of who they are. We get to that later. The system ensures no allegiances. Just everyone looking up to those in power and trying to please – or BEING the one whose always doomed to fail.
The crucial thing here, in terms of feeling like everyone is a dick, is this: these roles are not about fixed personality types. They are not about pathology or labels. They are about positions within a system — positions that people are pulled into, depending on how that system operates. And once you see that, something uncomfortable follows: the system doesn’t just produce behaviour — it limits what kinds of people you are even allowed to become.
Beyond Narcissistic Family Systems
As we saw in parts one and two, the patterns of narcissistic systems go far beyond the kitchen table. What that means is that even if you didn’t experience this sorting at home, when we go out into society, we can still end up sorted into these roles. Because, as Jennifer Freyd helps us see, these dynamics don’t stay confined to families. Institutions—workplaces, schools, even government bodies—reproduce the same patterns: denying harm, shifting blame, and protecting those in power at the expense of everyone else.
Thinkers like Christopher Lasch take this even further. He suggests that we are living in a broader "Culture of Narcissism" where the patterns of values and tactics repeat on a societal scale. And if Lasch is right, that means the pattern of roles will be repeating too. You might have escaped being assigned a role at home, or even fount a fractal of resistance in your workplace, but "Bonus Prize!" Lasche’s perspective means you’re likely to encounter this sorting in the wider world.
Now, you guys already know your Foucault in terms of how we internalize values. But what’s with the differential sorting into roles? Here we can look at what Louis Althusser called "Interpellation." His classic example is a cop calling out at you “hey, you!” Whether you look at him, or start running through alleyways, the “hey you” has hailed you into the role of citizen, subject to law. In a narcissistic system, this hailing is the moment a workplace, a government, or a social media algorithm calls out: "Hey, you! Come help me," or "Hey, you messed up!" The very utterance engages you in the capacity they are summoning you into. You’ve been "hailed" into the role of someone who helps or not, or someone who messed up, or has to try and convince someone they didn’t.
Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of Habitus helps us see the trap here. Habitus is the way systemic power becomes "deposited" in us as lasting dispositions. It’s the "world turned into a body". After being hailed into a role enough times, it stops feeling like a script you're reciting and starts feeling like "just the way things are". Your adaptation becomes a reflex—like when dogs scratching about at dirt they didn't actually shit on, just cos one scratches, for some forgotten reason, when one shits.
How The Roles From Narcissistic Family Systems Repeat.
So lets get more specific on these roles, because more detail helps you recognize if you’ve been hailed into one, which is the final telling pattern of a narcissistic system.
First up, Tomek and Lola, cos they’re the ones who end up feeling most alienated. Though later we will talk about the fact that all of these roles can come with their own kind of nausea. First though, we are paying attention to the function of each role within narcissistic systems, be they workplaces, family or society at large. We will come to how important wanting to vomit is, very soon.
Becoming The Scapegoat in Adult Contexts
Tomeks position has been studied in workplaces by Leymann, Zapf and others, and I societies via Girard, which we will get to, and of course, in family systems too. Tomek, whether he’s in the room or not, ends up being told that any problem is his fault. Others keep insisting he is lacking or failing, but in terms of the systems dynamic, he is necessary for all these other members. Why? Because Tomeks presence means no one else has to examine their potential issues or mistakes.
Tomek is often the office go-to blame guy, for those special occasions when one just cant be assed self-reflecting.
If you are a Tomek you will notice this. Call out a problem, and you’ll be told to fix your issues, up-skill, tone down or stop being so negative. Blame becomes a boomerang, coming back to whack you in the eye, for any issue you were brave enough to raise. Because when a system’s problems can be re-located in a person, rather than in the system itself, the system itself can look innocent, and if it’s innocent, then nothing needs changing. The advantage to those running these systems, is that their advantage is maintained, and not SEEN.
If you are a Tomek, a lot of classic broken records get targeted at you “when bad thing happen to you, its because something in you invited it” and “only you are responsible for your feelings.” Sometimes, from those who don’t want you to rock the boat. Other times, from people like Jo, who say “only you are responsible for your feelings,” while they punch you in the face. And whether or you actually buy this, as a Tomek, you are likely well aware of the double bind: that any reaction from you, to genuinely shitty circumstances, will be seen as a failure in your conduct. Which makes calling out the setup kinda pointless. Which is also.. the point. For the system.
Because Tomek’s function is simple and necessary: carry the blame so that everyone else can pretend things are fine, or get to feel right or superior or innocent.
This is why, if you’re a Tomek, you wont find allies. Alice Miller and R.D. Laing saw this in their work, and described it as the 'collusive agreement' of the group. They observed that for the system to stay stable, everyone else has to agree—implicitly or explicitly—that Tomek is the problem. Because siding with Tomek doesn’t just mean agreeing that it’s pretty fuckin nuts to go around being awful to people and telling them it’s their own fault for crying. Siding with, or agreeing with Tomek, means stepping into risk. It means drawing attention to oneself, and potentially inheriting the same treatment. So even the people who can see what’s happening — and many can — will stay quiet. Some might signal vague agreement in private, if they think no one will see. Some will try and soften things or smooth it over. But very few will stand next to him openly.
So anyone in the Tomek position will learn something very specific: not just that you are always handed blame — but that no one will back you up when it happens. Over time, that isolation starts to look and feel like confirmation that you really ARE to blame.
All that can make a Tomek seriously lose it. Cos really, this stuff does break most people. Research on workplace mobbing — meaning, institutionalized scapegoating — shows that the people in Tomek’s position don’t just get “stressed out.” They develop clinical-level symptoms. Depression, anxiety, c/PTSD. Even, in some cases, psychotic features. This has been shown consistently in the work of Heinz Leymann, who first mapped workplace mobbing, and later researchers like Ståle Einarsen and Dieter Zapf, who link sustained workplace bullying directly to serious mental health outcomes.
In other words, for people in this role, the system produces a pattern of responses that are consistent, and severe. There is a clear causal line between the setup of the system, and how it damages people. And yet, this outcome gets classified as disorder in the person — rather than as the very clear evidence it is, that the system itself is what’s sick. In certain cases, as the aforementioned authors point out, people die. Also painted as their own mental illness. The system STILL gets to carry on as usual, with the scapegoat officially labeled—post-mortem or post-collapse—with the institutional confirmation that this is THEIR inadequacy.
And this role, this foisting of sickness onto others, doesn’t just happen to individuals. Rene Girard shows how, on a societal level, this role can be pushed onto groups. His work shows how, throughout history, societal systems have resolved their inner tension by locating the “problem” in one specific group— from the pharmakos in ancient Greece to the witch trials, to the targeting of Jewish people in Nazi Germany. Same pattern, same way to circumvent broader issues (by causing extreme harm to particular people) just at a different scale.
Each time, the scapegoat is not actually the cause of the problem. They become the solution to not having to face the problem. They are the ones who pay an extortionist price, just to keep the system looking like it’s fine.
Yet in the end, every role in narcissistic system ends up bearing the burden of the systems distortions in it’s own particular, and, invariably, shitty way.
Becoming The Lost (No-Longer) Child.
Lola is our next example—the Lost Child. Where Tomek is the Z block in our tetris game, Lola is more like an actual... gap. Because where Tomek is something visible and annoying, Lola is an absence. A persona non grata. She will often also think, “these people are awful,” but with a “guess I just have to just get on with it” thrown in.
Lola has learned that visibility attracts pressure, or worse, the risk of being treated like a Tomek. So, she withdraws. That withdrawal buys her a fragile kind of safety from blame, but it ensures she will not be recognized either. Lola’s, for this reason, can realise no one gets them. No one sees them as a person.
That’s because Lola’s function is to reduce the system’s load by making zero demands on it. The price of Lola’s safety is the burial of her needs. In a workplace, this isn’t just a "shy" personality; it is what researcher Dennis Organ identified as "The Good Soldier Syndrome." To the institution, Lola is the dream asset: she is "low-maintenance." But in a narcissistic system, "low-maintenance" is just a euphemism for self-abandoning. She is the cog that looks like it doesn’t need oil.
Lola’s own low maintenance, can even extend to general, further maintenance. She can end up secretly fixing the errors the "Jo Shitheads" leave behind, if those errors might end up drawing attention to her; thus perpetuating the image that the machine runs just fine. Because the system sees her as an anonymous archetype – the good soldier – her specificity is only seen when she is called into question for doing something wrong. Meaning, the cost for Lola’s safe invisibility is psychological erasure. She is the structural beam that is quietly disintegrating because no one thinks to check the parts of the building that aren't making noise.
This isn't just a narrative device. Work on emotional neglect, like that of Jonice Webb, shows that when a person’s inner world is quietly ignored—not violently rejected, just consistently bypassed—they learn to disconnect from their needs altogether. Not because those needs vanish, but because having them "doesn't work" in the current machinery.
John Bowlby described a similar pattern with avoidant attachment: when expressing needs leads to no response or subtle rejection, the human system adapts by shutting that expression down. Not dramatically—just efficiently. Over time, as Giovanni Liotti points out, this relational pressure leads to a kind of structural dissociation. Lola’s disappearance isn't a quirk or some fixed trait; it’s a functional adaptation to a system where being seen is a liability.
Yet, Lola is a human, and has needs all the same. Part of the pain of this position can be the silent, dreamlike hope that someone, someday, will be intuitive enough to "read" her—to see the person behind the "Good Soldier" mask without her having to take the risk of explaining. Because she knows what happens when she explains: she becomes a burden, an inconvenience, a "problem," and eventually... a Tomek.
So Lola waits to be seen in a system that pathologizes exactly that kind of perception. She becomes a ghost in a sea of people who don't even try to see her. And yet, as we will talk about soon, how these roles sit with us does vary. It might also sit like this – with Lola praising herself for not needing anyone—with her mistaking her systemic isolation for a personal strength, and wearing her ghosthood like armor. Because the system will brand this as strength, to help people feel better about their alienation.
Jo, And Pending Indigestion
Now, Jo is coming up, and he has a few surprises for us. Cos whilst it is often Jo Shitheads who make us google “is my boss a narcissist?” or “are there legal ways to poison wankers?” some people who get hoist into this role get indigestion – and it is one of the most important factors when it comes to what roles do to us. Because as might be becoming clear, the focus on “narccisist or not,” is less important than identifying the system that’s producing them. Cos if you find yourself stuck in these roles, it is a sign that the whole tree is poisoned. So eliminating the worst of the apples, doesn’t stop more falling on your head.
The Helga-The-Helper Role In Adulthood.
Helga is just as vital to the system and its pattern. While Lola fixes things in the shadows to stay invisible, Helga the Helper fixes things in the light to stay indispensable. And where Tomek is the one we blame for the mess, and Lola is the one pretending she isn't even in the room, Helga is the one frantically trying to vacuum while the house is on fire.
Whilst being the 'Helper' sounds lovely, in a sick system, 'Helping' will often amount to unpaid quality control. Because Helga is the one who absorbs friction and smooths over the Jo Shitheads’ tantrums before they can derail the quarterly meeting.
Arlie Hochschild draws our attention to how this works in terms of Emotional Labor. Hochschild explains how people like Helga are required to manage their own feelings to create a "safe" emotional state for others. Meanwhile, Glick and Fiske, in "Benevolent Sexism" show how the Helga role is often forced onto women through "compliments." By being told they are "naturally more caring" or "the peacemakers," they are socially coerced into the Helga role. It's a form of gilded cage—they are praised for their service, which makes it socially "expensive" for them to stop.
So if you are a Helga, you’ve likely been told you are the 'heart' of the office. Which is usually code for: 'Please keep doing three people’s emotional labor for the pay of none.' Just like Lola, Helga is invisible—but she’s a busy ghost. She is so busy managing everyone else’s fragility that she forgets she’s a person with needs too. Her needs become blended with the needs of the machine, and thus, she becomes a high-functioning appendage of it.
There is a double bind for Helga though. The system wants her to believe that her role is vital, and yet not give her the kind of credit Joes get. As we showed in the family example, where part of the systems stability means not challenging Joe’s position as Golden Child slash Hero. Research by Deborah Kolb. shows how Helga’s behavior IS often praised, but, as Joyce Fletcher points out in her work on “Relational Practice,” it is also systemically devalued. Meaning, it goes unpaid. But, as long as Helga feels her safety lies in this indispensable but 2nd fiddle position, she will busily fix the systems symptoms for it, without actually looking at the cause.
Now, this really sucks for Helga, cos Helgas are often good-hearted. But her role becomes a classic example of how goodness gets roped into doing toxic work in a narcissistic system. Organizational psychology talks about something called the Karpman Drama Triangle, in which Helga is the Rescuer. Her work can extend to shutting Tomeks out or down, to “save” the system from unwanted conflict. She will also act to reduce the impact of Jo conflict too. Sound nice? Well, studies show how this actually perpetuates the problem of whatever system she is in. Because the Rescuers are shown to prevent organizational learning. By fixing the mess, they hide the fact that the system is broken.
Which is exactly why the system needs a Helga around.
This is why, if you are recognizing these roles, which are the patterns narcissistic systems produced, it makes sense that you feel like you’re surrounded by assholes. It’s not just that Jo is a prick; it's that Helga is busy making sure Jo’s prickness doesn't have any consequences. Without being horrible herself, Helga still turns any crapness in the system, or in Jo, into a 'management challenge' for herself to solve. By the time Helga is done 'helping,' the system looks functional, the Joes will just look like 'difficult personalities,' and the Tomeks will still be being fitted with DSM dunce hats.
So Helga isn’t just 'kind.' OK, she IS, but she’s also been railroaded. She’s become the glue that makes the toxicity permanent.
Joe Shithead – The Adult Hero (Golden Child)
And finally we get to Joe. The guy we love to hate and hate to love. Yet, we have to take him seriously here, and the non-amusing thing is that his role is not great either. The not so Joe-like Joes can even SENSE that this position is kinda unfair. As mentioned, these roles are not equivalent to personalities, they just induce certain patterns of behavior in terms of coping with the role.
And sometimes they also induce nausea. Indigestion. Cos like the values of the system, the roles also won’t sit the same with everyone. When the Jo role sits badly, it turns out to be the nausea itself that stops those in Jo role getting to be proper shitheads. They can even lose their place as Jo’s completely. More on puking soon. I promise. Cos it saves us not just from becoming a Jo.
For now, in order to hone in on why a so may of us feel despair at being surrounded by horrendous behavior, we must focus on how Joe’s role is meant to pan out, in terms of what the system needs from him. So please forgive me, former or unwilling golden children. We will get to why you are not shitheads pretty soon.
Ideally, Joe will dig his role as favorite, winning guy. His task for the system is embodying what is valued—performing it so perfectly that the system can use him as an example and say, 'See? He managed to succeed. He rose to the top. The code of the operating system is thus perfect. The world is fair.'
In this setup, this role, Joe isn't just a person; he becomes the point where the Matrix’s ego and a human body overlap. He is not just a tool of the system here, his internal workings need to become the system itself. He has swallowed the values with no indigestion. He takes on the tactics, scapegoating, gaslighting, blame shifting, to protect his own internal version of the system from being found lacking. The systems values have become his own.
Remember Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of Habitus? The way systemic power and social structures become "deposited" in the individual as lasting dispositions? Well, that is Joe. He has internalised the system itself – so he is a node in it. Valuing what is meant to be valued. Using the tactics the system does. It is natural to him. So Joe doesn't think he is being a dick; he thinks he has a "feel for the game." His gaslighting isn't always a conscious strategy—it's a systemic reflex. With him, less like our shitting, scratching dog and more like a cat landing on its feet.
Winnicotts idea of the false self is interesting to look at here as well. Usually, the False Self is a mask. But for the "Ideal Joe," there is no "True Self" left to retreat to. The system has performed a total annexation of his interiority, replacing it with itself. The perfect Joe has had to murder his own spontaneity and vulnerability. He isn't just "faking it"; he has achieved a state of Total Internalized Compliance. Though he would never call it that. Cos he is the "perfect actor" whose forgotten that there was a script.
Which is why he can look like he is protected by a kind of automated, real-time 'patching.' If Joe knocks over a 5 grand statue of the companies logo, neither he, nor the system he’s a node in, sees a clumsy employee; it sees a glitch in the simulation that must be overwritten. It lets him launch a formal investigation into why the floor was so slippery, and to re-code the janitor—a handy nearby Tomek—as the source of the error.
So Jo exists in a state of Teflon-Herohood. You could catch him standing over a literal smoldering ruin with a flamethrower in his hand, and the system’s internal 'rendering engine' would rewrite the scene before the pixels even settle. The smoke will be re-branded as 'innovation,' the ruin as overdue 'renewal.'
Remember how parts 1 & 2 talked about the system creating distortions, and forcing those without advantage to bear them? The system is all about that, and as the System’s Avatar, Jo is as well. If anyone labels Jo flawed, the systems source code might be outed as corrupt—and that is the one thing the simulation cannot allow. If Jo is outed as a monster, the social-mediaverse starts to flicker. A green rain smear campaign is written about anyone uttering monster-talk. So we all play along. We explain the world around him, bending the physics of our own reality so that he is never the cause of destruction, only the beneficiary of our 'optimized output.'
Goffman talked about how institutions strip people of their "identity kits. In "Total Institutions," the person is replaced by the role. Jo has been given a "Premium Identity Kit" by the system. It comes with the flamethrower and the "innovation" re-branding software. He cannot put the kit down, because without it, he wont get the pretty simulation that reflects his awesomeness. And he needs those just as much as the system he’s a node in does.
All that to say, that what Jo internalizes as his needs are the simulation's needs. He becomes a distortion of greatness, both for others and himself. Jo is a one man fractal A being that houses an instantiation of the system and its values. Which means, just as for the system, other people’s needs aren't just inconvenient; they are legacy bugs—outdated, burdensome to work around, and subject to immediate deletion if they produce an accurate reflections of his shitness.
The ideal Jo, who will not turn up in a therapists office, is usually the very one we google after being screwed over. Jo is the one we call narcissistic, but it’s not by virtue of his individual, human flaws. It’s by virtue of his having internalized the narcissistic system itself.
Yet, and here is a foreshadowing of the big reveal. He is not the only one who can actually do this. The most likely one, sure, and there are others who can swallow the system whole, if there’s no gag reflect. That you gag reflex can save you becomes the most important thing to know, but I explain a little later. For now, the takeaway is this:
these kinds of people are not glitches. They keep the system running as intended.
As do each of these roles, though in less obvious ways. They each encourage different behaviors, yes, cos there are different things we do to cope with being cast in them. They end up being different experiences too, yet their function, in the end, is the same:
In one way or another, they keep the system intact. They are each a vital part of the machine that is narcissistic systems. They each serve a particular function for the systems perpetuation.
How Systems Become Part Of Us All
To deepen why this really is not about bad apples, and rather a very rotten tree, some Zhuangzi. Zhuangzi talks about how none of us are separate from the system we live in; we are expressions of it. Distortions in the system ripple through us, because we are connected to the whole and its parts— the self, society, nature. All the systems we are embedded in. None of it stands alone. He pointed out, too, that the micro level, which means us as human beings, or our families, reflects the macro level, the broader systems we are part of. Which would sound lovely in any other context, right? Like some retreat in Bali where you bought your crystal egg to meditate with and somehow manage to manifest the non-exploitation of the locals.
But in narcissistic systems, Zhuangzis idea adds weight to the following point.
When the roles we just looked at keep showing up — across different families, workplaces, institutions, even entire societies, it’s difficult to argue that this is about core traits in our personalities. Like some loser trait that renders all of us Tomeks inherently hopeless.
Personality is messy. Inconsistent. Wildly varied.
In a narcissistic system, the roles do not reflect this. They are limited. Predictable. Repeating. All of this suggests something more uncomfortable: that people are not bringing these roles into systems via the kinds of character they are. Instead, people are being shaped by the roles themselves – by the system itself, that invokes them. That flows through us all and hails us into them.
Of course, that’s not how this usually gets explained. More often, you’ll be told it’s you. That you’re the helper because you’re “co-dependent.” That you’re the lost child because you “lack agency.” That you’re the scapegoat because you have “poor boundaries.” That Jo is the way he is because he has a personality disorder.
The point is, psychology explains a pattern of behavior the same way the wider system does - by making it about the individual. Not by making about what flows through us all. And those labels I mentioned can describe real patterns of behavior, but they take the behaviors of the role… and turn it into a personality. They take the outcome and energy of a system… and lock it up inside a person.
In psychology, the focus shifts away from the idea that we are effected by the systems we are part of. Away from the structures that keeps producing the same roles, and onto the person who’s been slotted into one. Psychology, in a clear expression of the systems core value of radical individual responsibility, puts the cart before the horse. It looks at how one behaves and assumes it because of something in you — instead of asking what kind of system would produce, or require, such behavior in the first place.
But when the same patterns keep emerging, across wildly different people, it is a serious sleight of hand to ask “what’s wrong with you?”
When what is actually USEFUL question to ask is this:
What have you had to take in, adapt to, or survive, for this role to make sense?
Absorption (Digestion) Is Variable
And for those of you who have listened to part 1, you already know what had to be taken in. The first pattern of narcissistic systems is the pattern of values they install to ensure those with advantage will retain it. In the same way Antonio Gramsci talks about – values that ensure those in the more powerful positions get to retain advantage. In the case of narcissistic systems, these are values like self-regulation and control, radical individual responsibility, competition as natural order, the necessity of being useful, image management and all the things we covered in episode one.
In narcissistic systems, you also have to take in the distortions those values produce. It is you who bears the burden for them, while the system that produces these distortions continues to look blameless. As Gramsci also comments, the values those with power install, always come to LOOK natural and neutral, which makes distortions all the more difficult to see as distortions at all.
Yet, where Zhuangzi points out the systems we are embedded in will flow through us, Althusser points out that we don’t take it all in perfectly. So the values and distoritions will sit differently in us, due to what Althusser terms our “human contradictions.”
Here is where our gag reflex kicks in. Think of it like eating one of those English pasties with lots of slimy bits in it. The carroty chunks of competition. The potatoey blandness of total emotional control. The meat-flavored gristle of radical individual responsibility. The delicious-looking image-managing pastry. It happens to be the only meal on offer, and looks fine enough, so you take a bite. As will everyone.
Some will notice no ill effects. Others will get a brief stomach ache and carry on. A few of us might start to feel nauseous, and be descended upon by others who think force feeding us more of it is the only solution. And some just get explosive dihoreah that they themselves are blamed for.
The difference here is not about good or bad people, at least not at source. Its about how values and distortions are digested.
Why Some People Don’t Become Shitheads
Now, hands up if you actually HAVE tried to eat a pastie. Cos if you have, you will know it makes a mess. So this is the messy part, because the roles we have discussed are understood in terms of their function, within narcissistic family systems. We know how each role services the system in fairly clear ways. But when it comes to why you’re surrounded by assholes, the roles will mostly point to Jo. Sure, he is a likely candidate, but lets remember why: when he fulfills his role correctly, he replaces his own interiority WITH the system.
He is not so special in that as he may like us to believe. Others can actually do that too, within the confines of their role. And some Joes don’t manage it, within theirs. Which makes the real problem of being surrounded by horrible people come down to their digestion. It comes down to who will swallow this stuff whole.
While studies show us that the Tomeks often do end up with labels, or actually dead, they also show us that one of the labels can be NPD, on occasion. Which means any roles can finally drink the coolaide.
I had a friend who was an example of this once. My Tomek was called Jarek, and was a scapegoat in his workplace cos of German stereotypes about his country of origin. When he moved to England, where other foreign nations were much lower down the ladder of ludicrous stereotypes than he was, he gladly began to scapegoat the lowest ranked group. This got worse when he got promoted – something that he’d been kept back from in the decades he was in Germany. Following his UK promotion, he became a golden hero, puffing up into ever more odious as he gained power over his newly sanctified underlings.
Because Jarek DID buy that all this is the “order of things.” That some of us get kicked, and that is fine, cos if you can learn the tools and figure out how to do the kicking yourself, then the system must be OK.
Becoming A Node In A Narcissistic System
Because no matter which position you are in, some don’t just eat the food; they become the food itself. At that extreme end of ideal digestion, we are not just identifying with the system, but becoming a fractal of it ourselves. We become nodes that enforce the system on others. The sufficient number of horrible people, to gain the effect you tuned in because of.
So Narcissistic Personality Disorder is another name for Total Systemic Identification. Those who manage it aren’t "evil geniuses"; they are hollow. Their "False Self" is the system's operating manual. This is also why these human fractals are secretly the most fragile people in the room. In Hegel’s Master-Slave dialectic, the Master is actually the one who is enslaved to the arrangement—because his entire identity depends on the Slave’s recognition. Without others to look down on, the Master has no height.
Or as Hannah Arendt might put it, those who replace their conscience with the "operating manual" of the system, achieved a kind of 'thoughtlessness.' This is the banality of evil. There is no thinking, just doing what ones role requires. Because Arendt’s point about Adolf Eichmann wasn't that he was a "monster," but that he was an automaton. He spoke in clichés. He couldn't think from the perspective of another. He was not a mustache-twirling villain; he was a man who has replaced his interiority with the System's KPIs.
The Internal War: Narcissistic Collapse
This helps us understand why, when the 'Golden' mask slips, these human-fractals undergo what is called Narcissistic Collapse. Because it’s not just an external failure; with no outward praise or likes or promotions, they fall inwards, into an internal war. The system they swallowed whole starts to eat them from inside. They are forced to face every role they’ve ever projected onto others, but now, it’s all happening in their own mind. They are haunted by the terror that they are actually the inadequate, hated Tomek they’ve spent a lifetime looking down on. They are terrified of being disappeared, like Lola, never praised or seen or admired. But they must become her, for as long as this lasts, for fear of being seen in their collapsedness.
To survive that abyss, they "Helga" their own psyche. They must try and self-sooth, by gaslighting themselves into a new distortion. If they can’t trap some external Helga-nurse to fix their image, they manifest an internal one to do it. One to desperately repair the "Golden" mask with the same fervor Helga uses to emotionally manage a crisis. This is the origin of the "vulnerable" narcissist—a system on fire, frantically conjuring up a new distortion because facing the abyss of their own hollowness. Being unplugged from the system that feeds them, is beyond their ability to cope.
4. The Linguistic Sign of the Guards (The Reveal)
For the real, actual Joes of the world, the best defense against this, is to never let it happen. And this is the linguistic tool I promised you. Because the system has developed a language-based immune response. A Teflon shield for protection of itself and it’s nodes. That shield is Dogma. Because dogma stops us questioning the things the system runs on. It stops you asking for answers to why it’s gold standards somehow.. tarnish.
The Faux Terminus is the voice of the Guard – and is adopted by anyone who has somehow gained advantage in the system, to keep others from challenging it. It’s a verbal stop-sign designed to kill curiosity before it can threaten the system's machinery. It sounds like: "You're just jealous," or “it’s just human nature” or "Of course someone like you would think that."
There are many many variations, but it always feels the same. The faux terminus feels like being slapped in the face with a stop sign. It signals that DOGMA is behind the door and the system is no longer opening it for questions. A link to more on that is here
https://www.thelonelinessindustry.net/blog/when-dogma-performs-reason-a-how-to-on-recognising-claptrap/



