The relationship between narcissism and empathy is often painted in black and white. In popular consciousness, the two are seen as polar opposites: where narcissism begins, empathy ends. This has led to a caricature of the narcissist as a cold, calculating villain, a “dark empath” who wields a supernatural ability to read others only to inflict harm. But this view, while compelling, is a dramatic oversimplification. The truth is far more complex and tragic.

To truly understand, we must look beyond the external traits of arrogance and grandiosity and into the vulnerable core of the narcissist: the emptiness, depression, anxiety, and fluctuating self-esteem that define their inner world. Most narcissists don't actively seek to harm others. They are more like drowning people, so desperately fighting for air that they accidentally drag others down in their struggle for survival.

The Blind Spot: Where Empathy Begins

First, we have to grasp what empathy truly is. It's the capacity to genuinely understand another person's experience—emotionally, mentally, and sometimes even physically. It isn't about agreement or justification; it's about feeling another’s thoughts and sensations as if they were your own, achieving a state of complete sync.

This requires a profound connection to one's own emotional landscape. Herein lies the central problem for the narcissist. We cannot extend empathy to others if we are blind to our own emotional lives. People with pathological narcissism are hyper-sensitive to feelings of shame, dependence, and humiliation. This sensitivity forces them to reject, suppress, and detach from their own vulnerable emotions. As children, many were emotionally exploited, pressured to create a “pleasant personality” that had no needs and felt no shame, doubt, or grief. These feelings were buried deep in the unconscious and covered over by a compensatory, grandiose false self. Since these core human emotions are exiled from their own consciousness, it becomes nearly impossible for them to genuinely recognize and connect with those same feelings in other people.

The narcissistic principle is one of self-protection through invulnerability. Desire itself must be severed from any object of love or attachment. Control must be total. You'll hear the formulas: “I didn't really want it anyway,” or “It doesn't hurt me; I don't care.” These phrases are shields, providing a sense of omnipotent control on one hand and emotional anesthesia on the other.

A World of Objects, Not People

Individuals with narcissism often don't experience themselves as a true self. Instead, they perceive themselves as an object—either successful or worthless, brilliant or dull. They were often raised in an environment where their authentic feelings didn't matter; what mattered was how well they fulfilled expectations. When you're treated like an object, that experience becomes the center of your self-perception.

True empathy requires seeing oneself as a subject, a person whose feelings are valid and meaningful. If you can't recognize your own feelings, you can't understand others'. If you don't see your own value as a subject, you cannot perceive other people as worthy subjects either. In the world of pathological narcissism, everyone, including the narcissist, is viewed as an object to be assessed: good or bad, valuable or worthless.

It's unpleasant to be someone's “I-object.” You feel unseen and unheard because the person isn't interacting with you, but with the part of you they need to feel a certain way about themselves. They don't need the whole person; they only need the one facet that reflects their own needs back at them. One “I-object” can be idealized to boost their ego, another can be devalued to assert their superiority, and a third can be made to carry their own “dark side,” allowing the narcissist to remain pure.

The Desperate Need for Survival

This brings us back to the metaphor of the drowning or starving person. They are driven by a constant, horrifying despair that may not look like panic, but rather like a relentless pressure to be the best, have the best, and be recognized. Their sense of self-worth is damaged and depends on constant external validation. Their internal ability to generate self-respect and meaning is impaired, so they are forced to borrow it from others.

A drowning person has one goal: air. A starving person has one need: food. A narcissist has one vital need: a sense of self-worth. When that collapses, everything else—work, love, responsibility—becomes unimportant until the self is restored. In this desperate state, the narcissist is simply not capable of empathy. They cannot prioritize the needs of others when their own psychic survival is at stake. When you try to save a drowning person, their panicked instinct can pull you under with them. This is not malice; it is a primal fight for life.

The Echoes of Childhood: An Attachment Perspective

This behavior is often rooted in early attachment styles. Pathological narcissism is frequently linked to avoidant or anxious-avoidant attachment.

• Grandiose narcissism is often associated with an avoidant attachment style. In childhood, these individuals learned to suppress their needs due to harsh or inconsistent care. They learned to ignore their own feelings. As adults, they shy away from intimacy. Expressing empathy could foster a connection that would force them to confront their own buried needs—needs they've learned only lead to pain and disappointment. They close themselves off not to manipulate, but to protect.
• Vulnerable narcissism is more related to an anxious-avoidant (or disorganized) style. This reflects an internal conflict between the deep desire for love and the profound fear that it will bring harm. As adults, they experience this same tension. They crave close relationships but are terrified of them, often giving mixed signals like intense initial interest (“love bombing”) followed by abrupt withdrawal (“discarding”). This isn't a calculated strategy; it's the external manifestation of an internal war between the thirst for love and the fear of it.

The Painful Path to a True Self

The core of narcissism is an unbearable pain and shame. It’s the feeling of having been treated not as a person but as an object created to satisfy another's desires. But this very pain can become the starting point for developing a genuine self.

The emptiness many with narcissism describe—“Where I should be, there is emptiness”—cannot be filled with grandiosity or perfection. Those feelings are fleeting. It can only be filled with the authentic experience of the self, which must be allowed to grow.

The first step is to look inside and acknowledge what's there. If you feel emptiness, what does it feel like? Fear? Numbness? Anger? Whatever emotions surface, make room for them. If you find grief, follow it. For many, feelings of sadness, disappointment, or longing are the first threads of a true self. The task isn't to feel good or be perfect. The task is simply to be—to exist as a self that has intrinsic value, beyond what you do for others or how you appear.

The pain is real. It is undoubtedly yours, and it is proof that you exist. It is proof that there is a person inside who is suffering. And that is only the beginning.

Further Reading

• Kernberg, O. F. (1975). Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism. Jason Aronson. This foundational text details the internal structure of the narcissistic personality. Kernberg explains the use of primitive defense mechanisms like splitting (seeing people as all-good or all-bad), idealization, and devaluation. He argues that the grandiose self is a defense against a deeply fragmented internal world, which aligns with the article's discussion of the unstable, object-based view of self and others (see especially pp. 227-232).
• Kohut, H. (1971). The Analysis of the Self: A Systematic Approach to the Psychoanalytic Treatment of Narcissistic Personality Disorders. International Universities Press. Kohut provides a different but complementary perspective, suggesting that narcissism arises from empathetic failures in early caregiving. He introduces the vital concept of “selfobjects”—other people used to serve essential functions for the self (like mirroring and idealizing). This directly supports the article's “I-object” idea and the notion that narcissists must “borrow” their self-worth from external sources (see pp. 3-24).
• Winnicott, D. W. (1965). The Maturational Processes and the Facilitating Environment: Studies in the Theory of Emotional Development. International Universities Press. This collection of essays explores the development of the “true self” and the “false self.” Winnicott posits that a false self emerges to protect the vulnerable true self when the childhood environment fails to meet its needs. This directly parallels the article’s explanation of how narcissists learn to be what others expect, leaving a profound sense of inner emptiness where their authentic self should be (see the essay “Ego Distortion in Terms of True and False Self,” pp. 140-152).