When Avoidance Isn’t Arrogance

Understanding the difference between Pathological Demand Avoidance and narcissistic dismissal.

When we see someone avoiding a task or responsibility, it is easy to assume the motive and label them as lazy, dismissive, or unreliable. However, avoidance is not a monolith, and the surface appearance tells us little about the deeper motivation behind it. Two very different dynamics, Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA), often present in autism, and narcissistic neglect or petulance, can both appear as resistance, refusal, or withdrawal from responsibility. The confusion arises because they appear alike from the outside, but their inner experiences differ significantly, being nearly opposite.

I live with PDA, and for me, avoidance has never been a conscious choice to disregard others or responsibilities. It’s more like a physiological reaction. When someone asks me to do something, even if it is a task I want to do, often (not always) my immediate response is anger and imposition. However, because anger is rarely a primary emotion, beneath that anger sits anxiety and a deep discomfort of losing control, disappointing others, and the fear that I do not have the nervous system capacity to cope with the demand. Something as simple as being told, “Call me so we can discuss this,” can trigger an inner rage response. I dislike phone calls for many reasons—contextual cues are missing, the conversation feels awkward, but what unnerves me is the energetic demand. Even the thought of expending that much effort can send my system into overdrive, and for me, overdrive means shut down rather than freakout, so I make myself scarce and pull my energy back.

As I’ve aged, I’ve learned to navigate this better. I can now decline unnecessary obligations, skip a faculty meeting (or the dreaded faculty retreat) if I know it will drain me, and recognize that many so-called responsibilities are just social formalities. That recognition has been freeing; however, when I was younger, before I had an autism diagnosis, my reactions were misinterpreted. I often froze or fawned in the moment and agreed to requests, only to realize later that I couldn’t follow through. For some, I gained a reputation for being irreverent, aloof, or dismissive. However, I wasn’t trying to shirk responsibility; I just didn’t yet know how to hold boundaries or explain the overwhelm I was feeling. Even now, when I pause before committing, there is often uncertainty about whether I can maintain the boundary without disappointing others or delivering the boundary too bluntly. The difference is that I no longer mistake this for arrogance. I understand it as part of how my nervous system responds to demands, and I manage my energy so that I can give attention to the people and responsibilities that genuinely matter.

This is a very different picture from narcissistic neglect or petulant refusal. Narcissistic neglect is only superficially similar. It isn’t an anxious avoidance but instead calculated indifference; it’s not rooted in nervous system overload but in ego-driven refusal to meet the demands of someone else because the person feels superior. While PDA resists because it feels overpowered, narcissistic neglect resists because it feels above.

To see the difference in action, consider these two scenarios:

• PDA Avoidance: A faculty member is asked to chair yet another committee. In the moment, he says yes because declining feels impossible. Later, he spirals into anxiety, delays his responses, and even contemplates backing out altogether. He doesn’t believe the work is beneath him; he feels overwhelmed by the pressure and uncertain of his capacity. When he finally declines, he feels guilty, but also relieved, because conserving his bandwidth allows him to focus on the students who need him most.

• Narcissistic Neglect: A manager is assigned to prepare a detailed report. He immediately dismisses it as a waste of his time and tells his team to do it without guidance. When pressed, he becomes irritated, insisting that such work is beneath him and that others should carry the burden. His avoidance is not about anxiety but entitlement, the belief that his energy should never be “wasted” on something he considers trivial.

From the outside, both individuals appear to be shirking responsibility. From the inside, one is struggling against a nervous system in overdrive, while the other is inflating his sense of superiority.

Recognizing the difference matters. Someone with PDA needs compassion, scaffolding, and accommodations that help reduce pressure and preserve autonomy. Someone caught in narcissistic neglect needs accountability, firm boundaries, and a refusal to excuse their disregard. If we confuse the two, we end up punishing the vulnerable or excusing the harmful.

So the question to ask is not simply, “Why are they avoiding?” but “What is fueling the avoidance?” If it is anxiety, overwhelm, or loss of control, the response is compassion and support. If it is entitlement, superiority, or manipulation, the response is boundaries and accountability. Both show up as resistance, but what lies beneath makes all the difference.

If you’re interested in how narcissistic behaviors present in real-life scenarios, my new book, Center of the Universe: Transforming the 27 Types of Narcissism From the Inside Out, delves deeply into four case studies across a lifespan to show the real-world presentation of narcissistic traits and behaviors in relationships, families, workplaces, and institutions.