Steer Clear of Toxic People
A toxic person robs you of your self-esteem and dignity and poisons the essence of who you are.
—LILIAN GLASS, PSYCHOLOGIST
I love connecting with people, and I go out of my way to do it. I’m a big fan of my partner Keith Ferrazzi’s motto “Never Eat Alone,” and I’m enormously grateful that nearly every new person I meet enriches my life.
But sometimes reaching out is a mistake. That’s a lesson I finally had to learn myself, the hard way.
Four years ago, I had emergency, lifesaving surgery. During my recovery, I had a chance to think hard about some of the stressors in my life—stressors that made me less healthy than I could be and kept me from enjoying my life to the fullest. And while it may sound odd coming from a psychiatrist, the word at the top of my list of stressors was people.
Not people in general, however. Instead, the biggest stressors in my life were toxic people: the ones who were easy to upset and hard to please, who let me down time after time, who wouldn’t cooperate or play fair, or who constantly made excuses and blamed other people.
I made a decision, at that moment in my hospital bed, to keep people like that out of my life in the future. I’ve kept that promise to myself and, as a result, I’m healthier, happier, and more successful in every area of my life. So as you’re mastering my techniques for reaching people, I hope you’ll make the same promise to yourself.
While this book is about connecting with the people who can make your life better, some people don’t want to make your life better. Instead, they want to destroy it. Some of these people want to suck you dry, while others want to con you, thwart you, bully you, or make you the scapegoat for their mistakes. To save yourself, you need to strip these people of the power to hurt you.
There are three ways to do this. The first is to confront these people directly. The second is to neutralize them. The third is to walk away and make sure they don’t follow you.
I know what you’re thinking: “Easier said than done.” Sometimes you’re so entangled financially or emotionally that it’s tough to do what I call a “jerkectomy.” But painful or not, handling these people (or getting them out of your life entirely) is critical to your success and your sanity. Here’s how to spot them—and how to defend yourself against them.
NEEDY PEOPLE
There’s mildly needy, which isn’t a big problem, and then there’s drain-your-blood needy. It’s the people in the second category you have to worry about.
Pathologically needy people can gut you emotionally or financially, or both. These are the people who send the messages: “I need you to solve all of my problems.” “I can’t function without you.” “My happiness depends totally on you.” “If you leave me, I’ll die.” Unlike needful people—who ask for help only when they need it and appreciate it when they get it—needy people demand constant help and attention, use emotional blackmail to get it, and offer gratitude only if it keeps you on the hook.
Perpetually needy people suck the life out of you, because no matter what you do for them, it’s never enough. They don’t lean toward you for occasional support; they lean on you until they crush you. And once they latch on to you, they’ll almost never leave. (Why on earth would they?) Try to pry them off, and they’ll grab on even tighter.
Needy people refuse to make decisions or handle issues on their own. They want you to spend hours holding their hand and helping them sort through their life problems. You’ll handle one crisis only to find them weeping inconsolably over the next one. And you’ll sink deeper and deeper in the quicksand each time you try to pull them out.
You’ll also feel depressed and incompetent if you spend too much time with a needy person, because you’ll knock yourself out and hear nothing in return except, “I’m still broken. I’m still sad. You’ve failed. You promised to save me but you didn’t.” That’s a classic recipe for the mirror neuron gap I talk about in Chapter 2.
How can you tell if you’re dealing with a pathologically needy person? If you suspect that you’re trapped in this situation, rate the person in question on this 1 to 3 scale (1 = not at all; 2 = sometimes; 3 = almost always):
Does the person whine?
Does the person complain?
Does the person come off like a victim?
Does the person seem to be saying, “Feel sorry for me”?
Does the person want to be pitied?
Does the person cry or act deeply hurt when something doesn’t go his or her way?
Does the person attempt to make you feel guilty?
Does it seem to you that the person is a bottomless pit whose needs can’t ever be met?
Do you want to avoid the person?
Does your stomach get a knot whenever you receive a voice mail or e-mail from the person?
Do you feel like yelling at the person: “Toughen up!”?
Do you feel guilty because you find yourself rooting against the person?
Here’s how to score your answers:
12 = low maintenance: a person who’s worth keeping in your life.
13-24 = medium maintenance: is this relationship really worth your time?
25-36 = high maintenance: leave (if you can) before this person sucks the life out of you.
If you’re in a relationship with a pathologically needy person, the obvious answer is to get out. But if the relationship matters to you and you still want to save it, one option is to give the person the chance to reform.
Derrick, for example, loved it at first when his girlfriend Jada sought his opinions about her job, her life, and even her clothes. But finally it dawned on him that her neediness never ended, and he grew tired of her failure to take responsibility for her own life, her ceaseless meltdowns and emotional requests for help, and her chronic whining.
Derrick came to me looking for a solution, and I advised him to use an approach I call the “wince confrontation.” I told him to say the following to Jada, while making it clear that it pained him to say it:
“I’m getting close to avoiding you, because almost every time I ask you about something you haven’t done you make an excuse or blame someone else. And almost every time I confront you about ways in which you need to improve, you either act hurt, start to cry, or get angry. All of us feel disappointed, hurt, or upset from time to time, but if you get angry or emotional each time, it’s too exhausting to be around. You have the right to react in any way you choose, but I have the right to excuse myself or avoid you—which is what I will do And that’s not going to help our relationship. So I hope you’ll start taking responsibility for yourself, and find a way to keep from falling apart when you’re feeling upset.”
A situation like this can go one of two ways. If the person is smart enough to take your message seriously, you’ll see a change for the better. On the other hand, the person may refuse to change, or even escalate the needy behavior, in which case you may decide that the relationship isn’t worth saving after all.
This may seem like pretty strong medicine, and it’s not something you should have to say to other people. With needy people, however, you need strong medicine. Being needy is an action, and the dictum “words respond to words, but actions respond to counteractions” is doubly true when you’re dealing with this toxic behavior.
If you’re coping with a needy person, one warning is in order: Extreme and highly pathological neediness can sometimes be a sign of borderline personality disorder. People with this disorder also exhibit these behaviors:
They demand more than they whine.
They desperately fear abandonment.
They cycle between idealizing you (“You’re my reason for living”) and devaluing you (“You’re selfish, just like everybody else”).
They have no core personality. They seem empty because they are empty, and to fill that hole they parasitically latch on to whoever is closest.
They act impulsively. For instance, they seek out unsafe sex or drive far too fast.
They have extreme mood swings, often have angry outbursts, and may threaten suicide.
They may act paranoid (“You act like you care but you’re just out to hurt me”).
If you’re dealing with a person who acts this way, you’re in trouble. Your safest option, if you’re not in too deep at this stage and the relationship isn’t important to you, is to escape—but carefully, because people with borderline personality disorder can become stalkers.
Borderline personality disorder is treatable, but even professionals find it tough to help these people. Try to rescue a person with borderline personality on your own, and you’ll go down in flames together.
In my line of work, I encounter bullied people all the time, but people hardly ever try to bully me personally. The last occasion, however, was pretty memorable.
I was at the murder trial of O. J. Simpson, watching the proceedings at the prosecution’s request. The lawyers wanted me to offer suggestions (which they didn’t heed often enough … but that’s a different story).
Suddenly, at one point in the trial, the infamous defense attorney F. Lee Bailey asked Mark Fuhrman—the investigating officer under attack by the defense at the time—if he knew me. Pointing me out in the courtroom, Bailey falsely insinuated that I’d coached Fuhrman on his testimony. Instantly, I found myself in the spotlight, and on national TV.
Later, in a meeting with the prosecution lawyers and me, Bailey tried to make this same accusation to my face. But I know something about handling people like Bailey, so I didn’t do what he expected.
For several minutes, Bailey said things like, “Dr. Goulston we don’t know exactly why you’re here, but we know you’ve been here through most of the trial.” As he talked, I just looked him squarely in the eye. Instead of saying or doing anything, I simply blinked occasionally.
Finally another attorney looked at me and said, “Mark, you haven’t said anything.” At that point I said, “He hasn’t asked me a question.” I went right back to looking Bailey in the eye, and he flinched slightly.
Next Bailey asked if I’d brainwashed or drugged Fuhrman or somehow done something to prepare him for his testimony. I was reminded of when he’d cornered Fuhrman during the cross examination, in the unforgettable “N-word” incident. Clearly, Bailey was hoping I’d panic and say something stupid he could twist or distort.
Even when you’re innocent, it’s pretty intimidating to be grilled by F. Lee Bailey. However, I had the advantage of seeing through his game: His goal was to disarm, frustrate, and then outrage me, so I’d lose my cool.
So when he asked if I’d drugged or brainwashed Fuhrman—an outrageous question—I waited for a full count of seven and then cleared my throat. At that point everyone in the room was waiting breathlessly to hear what I’d say. I counted to another full count of seven, and said to Bailey, “Excuse me Mr. Bailey, my mind wandered over the past few minutes. Can you please repeat what you said?”
He was absolutely dumbfounded. How could I dare find the world’s most intimidating lawyer so boring as to become distracted? And after that he backed down—proving that if you don’t play a bully’s game, he usually doesn’t have a backup plan.
The lesson is simple: Bullies come after you because they think you’re easy prey. Refuse to follow their script, and they’ll usually give up and seek an easier target.
Sometimes, of course, there’s no good way to stand up to a bully. For instance, if you desperately need your current job and your boss has the power to hire and fire on a whim, your only real options may be to lay low, minimize contact with the person, and look for a less toxic work environment. Even in this case, however, you’ll be a less desirable target if you stop looking vulnerable.
When a bully tries to intimidate you by verbally attacking you, do this. Make eye contact. Act perfectly polite but ever-so-slightly bored, as if your mind is elsewhere. Let your body language transmit the same message: Stand up straight, be relaxed, and cock your head as if you’re listening but not very hard. Let your arms hang casually, instead of folding them defensively across your chest. Often, this response makes bullies feel uncomfortable or even foolish and causes them to back down.
If you’re in a position where you can take some risks, you have additional options when it comes to handling bullies. My favorite approach, which catches most bullies completely off-guard, is to strike back—hard. Bullies act the way they do because they get away with it, but deep down most of them know it’s not an ideal strategy. Sometimes they just need someone to say that to their face.
“The one thing I’m most happy about right now is that I don’t work for you,” I said emphatically.
“What?” replied my dinner companion in surprise. I’d just met Frank, a 43-year-old Senior V.P. of Sales at a rapidly growing company, and already he’d made a condescending, sexually demeaning comment to our waitress at the famed Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills Hotel. Our waitress could only smile back at him uncomfortably and then glance at me, as if to ask “Who’s your creepy friend?”
I looked Frank in the eye. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to work for you because I’d be deathly afraid to tell you if I made a mistake. That’s because you have a capacity for disdain that crosses over into abuse. Life is just too short to put up with crap from a bully like you.”
His jaw dropped. Looking at me incredulously, he said, “Nobody’s ever talked to me that way.”
“Well,” I said, since I was indeed bullying him at the time, “maybe it takes one to know one. But more importantly, is it true?”
“It’s all true. It cost me a marriage, a relationship with my kids, and a job,” Frank confessed. Then he leaned forward and, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear, whispered, “Is it curable?”
I replied, without missing a beat: “It’s an addiction. The best you can be is a bully in recovery. You have to work on it every day or else you’ll slide back. But it’s probably worth it, because at the end of your life you’ll be less bitter and have more friends, and people won’t have to lie at your funeral to come up with nice things to say about you. You’ll accomplish more than you thought possible.”
He laughed. “Can you help me?”
I pondered that for a moment. “I’m trying to figure out whether you’re a bully to your core. If you delight in beating up on people, especially those who can’t fight back, like our waitress here, then I won’t help you,” I said. “That’s because you’ve already taken from life more than you deserve. Furthermore, I would help anyone you bullied to beat you. If, however, you act like a bully because it gets things done and you don’t know any better, then there is some wiggle room. I might work with you.”
On that note, I paused to see what he’d do. And he gave me the job.
Like this guy, many bullies are so accustomed to their victims prostrating themselves and cowering—and so contemptuous when this happens—that they’re knocked for a loop when someone bullies them back. It’s a high-risk move, but the payoff can be big. However, try this approach only if you don’t mind losing a client or a contract and make sure you have an exit strategy.
TAKERS
You know these people. They’re the ones who hit you up every day for a favor (“Could you cover the phones for me?” “Take my kids to soccer practice?” “Pick up the lunch tab?”). Strangely, however, they never seem to have time or energy to help you in return.
These people usually won’t ruin your life, but they can ruin your day. They can make you look unproductive (because you’re doing their work instead of your own), cause you to feel resentful, and take time away from the things you want to be doing.
Avoid takers when you can, but if that’s not possible, neutralize them. How? It’s the easiest trick in the book. The next time a taker asks you for a favor, follow this scenario.
TAKER: Hey, could you do the graphs for my PowerPoint presentation? I know I should do them, but I’m swamped.
YOU: Sure. No problem! And you can help me out by taking over the intern orientation on Thursday.
TAKER: Uhhhh….
YOU: I assume you don’t mind doing a favor for me in return, right?
TAKER: Uhhh….
Do this once or twice—and do insist each time on a quid pro quo—and the taker will move on to an easier touch. Also, identify takers ahead of time and always have a request ready to ask of them. It’s a great approach because you don’t say “no” or get mad or give the person any reason to take offense. Thus, you don’t create an enemy; you simply send the person off in search of another patsy.
NARCISSISTS
These people aren’t out to hurt you, but they don’t give a damn about you either—except as an audience for their own wonderfulness. Narcissists don’t mirror your feelings and emotions, because they’re too busy saying: “Mirror, mirror on the wall—who’s the fairest of them all?” and answering themselves, “I am!” A friend of mine, Edward Hollander, calls them “mental masturbators” because they really just want to stroke themselves.
A narcissist’s motto is, “So … enough about you.” (And that’s true even if you haven’t opened your mouth yet!) Narcissists are always on center stage, expecting you to sit in the wings and clap for them. They’ll interrupt your stories, ignore your successes while trumpeting theirs, and expect you to treat their problems as vastly more serious than what they see as your own petty issues.
However, narcissists (unlike the psychopaths I discuss later) aren’t necessarily bad people at heart. Often, they’re just spoiled. Sometimes they’re even okay to work with, if you understand their behavior. For instance, if your business partner is a narcissist, manage your expectations by never expecting the person to do something that is not in his or her best interest. That way you won’t feel blindsided when the person acts narcissistically, and you’ll be able to keep your wits about you.
How can you tell if you’re dealing with a narcissist? Do this “narcissist inventory,” rating the person on a 1-to-3 scale (1 = rarely; 2 = sometimes; 3 = frequently):
How often does the person need to be right at all costs?
How often does the person act impatient with you for no good reason?
How often does the person interrupt you in the middle of what you’re saying, and yet take offense if you interrupt?
How often does the person expect you to drop whatever you’re thinking about and listen to him or her—and does the person take offense when you expect the same in return?
How often does the person talk more than he or she listens?
How often does the person say “Yes, but,” “That’s not true,” “No,” “However,” or “Your problem is”?
How often does the person resist and resent doing something that matters to you, just because it’s inconvenient?
How often does the person expect you to cheerfully do something that’s inconvenient for you?
How often does the person expect you to accept behavior that he or she would refuse to accept from you?
How often does the person fail to say “Thank You,” “I’m sorry,” “Congratulations,” or “Excuse me” when it’s called for?
To score your inventory, add up the total:
10-16 = The person is cooperative
17-23 = The person is argumentative
24-30 = The person is a narcissist
If you can’t change a narcissist, should you reach out or back away? It depends, because narcissists can be exciting partners in a personal or business relationship. Nearly all politicians are narcissists (who else would put their families through all that?). So are most actors, and many hard-driving lawyers and CEOs.
Narcissists often are huge successes in life, and going along for the ride can be a heady experience. Sometimes, it’ll get you to high places. Other times, it’ll humiliate you (as Eliot Spitzer’s wife learned when he tumbled from grace). It’s your call—but don’t expect a fifty-fifty relationship if you stay.
PSYCHOPATHS
Years ago, researcher Robert Hare sent a paper to a scientific journal and got back a very odd reply. The paper, by Hare and his graduate students, contained photos of electroencephalographs (EEGs—brain wave tracings) of adult men performing a simple language task. The editor rejected the paper outright, saying that the EEGs “couldn’t have come from real people.”
In a way, the journal editor was right. The brain scans were from psychopaths: cold-blooded, ruthless people who seem to lack some key piece of what makes us human. These people are different from the rest of us biologically, and they’re different emotionally as well.
About one in every hundred people is a psychopath, and most of these people aren’t behind bars. In fact, the core traits of a classic psychopath—coldness, lack of empathy, self-centeredness, ruthlessness—make them some of the world’s most financially successful business leaders. The not-so-bright ones wind up in prison, but the smarter ones often wind up as CEOs. They’re also sexually driven and superficially charming, so plenty of them populate the dating scene. Most of them are men, but some of the most cold-blooded are women.
Odds are, you’ll run into one of these people at some point in your life. If so, follow this rule: get away. Go. Run. Chew off your leg to escape the trap, if you have to. Because these people will ruin you financially, crush you emotionally, and destroy your life if it helps them—and they’ll never look back.
Most people make the mistake of trying to reason with a psychopath or touch the person’s heartstrings. But you cannot touch these people emotionally. You cannot win them over, make them feel sorry for you, or make them want to help you in any way. They may pretend to care about you (in fact, they’re extraordinarily good at conning people emotionally) but they don’t. Instead, they’re masters of the “bait and switch.” They bait you by knowing how to tap into your dreams and your fears. This lessens the mirror neuron gap between you and them and causes you to trust and believe them. Then, when they have you hooked, they use you to get what they want.
How can you spot a psychopath? It’s harder than you’d think, but here are clues: They manipulate people like chess pieces, with no regard to the pain they cause. They’re predatory thrill seekers. They lie easily and don’t care if they get caught. They’re glib, charismatic, and charming. They crave power and do whatever it takes to get it. They use people for sexual or financial purposes and then discard them.
Again, do not make the mistake of thinking that you can “handle” these people. I make a living getting through to people, and I’m extremely good at it—but none of the approaches I teach in this book will work with a psychopath. Quite simply, these people lack the neural mechanisms to respond to you in a reciprocal moral or ethical way. Think of a psychopath as an exotic but deadly animal—say, a scorpion—and steer clear. Do this even if you lose money or a promotion or a job. No matter what the cost, you’ll pay a far higher price if you stay connected.
MIRROR CHECK: WHO’S THE PROBLEM?
The people I’ve talked about here are some of the toxic people you’ll encounter in life. There are plenty of others, but most of them are easy to reach and easy to change (and even easier to avoid, if you’re smart). In the chapters that follow, you’ll find methods for neutralizing them, getting rid of them, or even turning them into assets.
However, when you encounter toxic people and attempt to analyze their problems, always keep one thing in mind. Is it possible—just barely possible—that the person with the problem is you?
For instance, if you’re a guy who thinks every girl you date is nuts, you may need to look in the mirror for the source of the problem. On one hand, you may be attracted to screwed-up females with whom you can have only unhappy relationships. On the other hand, you may be attributing your own personal problems to your girlfriends. Maybe they seem hysterical because you really do tend to ignore them, dependent and whiny because you’ve made promises that you haven’t followed through on, paranoid because you’re dishonest or evasive, or borderline because you’re alternately controlling and abandoning. (How can you tell? The best way to know for sure is if all these so-called crazy women are happily married or in long-term relationships a few years down the road. If so, that’s a pretty big clue.)
When you take that hard look in the mirror, it’s possible you’ll realize that you’re the one who’s a little nuts. But not to worry. We all screw up in different ways, and what separates the good people from the toxic ones is the ability to face those screw-ups and learn a lesson from them. Take it from one who knows.
I was driving home in a rage. Seven minutes earlier, my wife had crossed over the line. She’d interrupted me in the middle of a psychotherapy session with a very disturbed patient. In such meetings, my concentration tended to be intense. I had warned her on several occasions not to call me at these times. (Apparently in those days you could get me to listen only if you paid me.)
I picked up the receiver and could tell it was her and I said, “What?” (as in “What the hell are you doing calling me?”). I sensed what I felt was inconsideration at interrupting me in her voice.
The next second, however, she said, “Please don’t be angry at me!” in a pleading voice. “I’m lying on the bathroom floor and I can’t move,” she continued. Instantly I knew she had much bigger things on her mind than being fearful of my reaction. She was terrified.
“I’m leaving now!” I told her in a firm, take-charge voice. I apologized to my patient, saying that a family emergency had occurred and we would need to continue our session at another time. I got into my car, called 911, and was put on hold.
As I drove, the frustration I felt toward the emergency operator was a thin veneer over the fury I felt at myself—how could I be such a hypocrite?—for apparently communicating to my wife that she couldn’t call me in a situation like this. And both of these overlay my own fear of what might be happening.
When I arrived home I ran upstairs to the bathroom where my wife said to me, “Thank you for coming home, please don’t be angry at me.”
To my estimate, I had never and have never been abusive, but the firm boundary I’d set with regard to calling me during work clearly crossed over into either abuse or at least a huge failure in my role as protector to the people I love.
“Don’t worry, it will be okay, and DON’T apologize,” I said, wondering what kind of self-centered, piece-of-crap husband I was to have put my wife in the position of being scared to call me when she was afraid for her life.
By the way, it turned out to be a ruptured ovarian cyst and everything worked out fine. But I realized at that moment that my wife and children should at least have the privilege I gave my patients to interrupt me anytime, anywhere if they were in a scary situation.
Had I acted stupidly in denying them that privilege? Yes. Was my behavior toxic? Yes.
But like I said—we all screw up. The key, if you catch yourself being toxic, is to ensure that you never make the same mistake in the future. In my case, the message was plain: Physician, heal thyself.
Usable Insight
If you’re hesitant to say “No,” you may be neurotic. If you’re truly afraid to say “No,” you’re probably dealing with a toxic person. And if nobody ever says “No” to you, that toxic person could be you.
Action Step
Make a list of the people who play a key role in your life. Beside each name, answer these questions: Can I count on this person to provide me with practical assistance? Emotional support? Financial support? Prompt and willing help when I’m in trouble? Wherever you see lots of “no” answers, think about expecting more from that person—or about easing the person out of your life.
Now, for the hard part: Make a list of the people who count on you and answer these same questions: Do you provide these people with practical assistance? Emotional support? Financial support? Prompt and willing help when they’re in trouble? If you’re honest, you’ll probably spot some answers that make you cringe. If so, take the steps you need to take to be a positive person—not a toxic one.