I took my question about narcissistic leaders to national TV
On Monday night, I had the privilege of my question being chosen to open the discussion on ABC’s Q+A, an Australian panel discussion show that largely explores issues affecting Australian politics.
It was an exciting experience to set the tone for the evening, and while the discussion that followed was interesting, it didn’t quite address the heart of my question (although Jon Ronson came the closest). I admit, this isn’t unusual for live panel discussions, where complex issues often spark a wide range of interpretations and tangents. You can watch the full episode here.
One of the themes for the episode was, “Are our leaders narcissists?” While this is an interesting question, I felt it framed the issue too narrowly, focusing on individuals rather than the broader dynamics of the political system. I submitted what I thought was a more nuanced question:
“Does our current political system enable or reward bad faith actors, and thus reward narcissists? If so, how can we start to reward cooperation and good faith discussion of issues?”
I wanted to highlight how systemic factors might incentivise certain behaviours, rather than focusing solely on individuals or their personality traits. For the sake of brevity to open the show, I was asked to shorten the question. I did this happily, but while this allowed for a pithy opening, I wonder if some of the nuance was lost, which might explain why the discussion didn’t fully address my point.
I asked this question because we frequently see leaders “playing politics” —focusing more on scoring points against each other than on working collaboratively to solve issues. Cooperation tends to emerge only on issues that are overwhelmingly popular across the political spectrum. My push has always been for more evidence based approaches to policy, as the answers to our most pressing problems are almost always nuanced and depend on the different needs of multiple groups in our society.
Debate and discussion are essential in a healthy democracy, but in an increasingly polarised world, I find myself wondering: How can we foster cooperation and reward leaders when they engage in good faith?
One obvious answer is to use our vote. But as we’ve seen, this alone is not enough. In the US election, voting decisions led to the election of arguably one of the world’s most famous narcissists (and for the second time). This suggests that not everyone perceives good faith and bad faith in the same way. Research in political psychology supports this, showing that voters often prioritise identity, emotion, and charisma over evidence or policy. Traits associated with narcissism, such as dominance and charm, can often be mistaken for leadership ability — even when these traits result in poor cooperative decision-making.
Polarisation only deepens these challenges, as voters are drawn towards candidates who appeal to their in-group identity or validate their frustrations, rather than those who focus on problem solving or compromise. Further compounded by the fact that different electoral systems reward different behaviours. In the United States, for example, a first-past-the-post system often favours polarisation, with candidates appealing to their party’s base rather than seeking broader consensus.
In Australia, our preferential voting system theoretically allows for a more nuanced reflection of voter preferences, but even here, the political landscape often favours point-scoring and adversarial approaches over genuine collaboration and cross partisanship is very rare. This suggests that voting system reform is only part of the solution — we also need other systemic and cultural shifts that encourage and reward good-faith leadership.
So, what can we do? While no single solution exists, we might start by rethinking how we engage with political narratives. Perhaps we need to push for reforms that prioritise transparency, evidence based policymaking, and cross partisan collaboration. For instance, initiatives like citizen assemblies have been shown to reduce polarisation and encourage cooperation. These have been helpful in Ireland on a number of issues, such as abortion and same sex marriage. Here in Australia, in 2009 a citizen parliament was set up with funding from the Australian Research Council, 150 people chosen at random to deliberate over key issues and make recommendations to the government. The citizens covered issues such as duplications of powers at local, state and federal level, advocated for a greater need for deliberative democracy and academic and public engagement on things like climate change. The study itself was at the time a world first and a resounding success in terms of showing the potential power of citizen assemblies and parliaments. Participants reported feeling happy to cooperate with those of differing political views.
The unfortunate outcome was that this assembly had no formal mandate, so despite providing several thoughtful recommendations, to date, none have been adopted into policy. This shows that many people are willing to engage and cooperate but that political commitment is key here to turning citizen recommendations into action.
Because this isn’t just about our leaders—it’s about all of us. How do we resist the allure of polarising rhetoric and support a political culture that values collaboration over conflict? If we want to see change, we must think critically about the structures we uphold and the behaviours we reward. We must begin to trust each other again, knowing that meaningful change can only happen if we engage others in good faith even — and perhaps especially — when we disagree.
Ultimately, the question is not just how we elect better leaders but how we can build a system that encourages them to lead better.
