Are People Who Hate Cats Narcissists?

I’ll never understand why some people claim not to like cats. I say claim because when I ask them why, in most cases I find that their negative opinions are based on stereotypes rather than actual experiences. Not always, of course. And I’m sure it says something about me that there seems to be no answer they can ever give that I will accept.

“They’re mean.”
No, they’re not. You just have to give them time to get to know you and treat them with respect.

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“They’re aloof.”
Only some of them. And usually just at first. They’re cautious. You would be too if a stranger ten times your size suddenly came at you from above.

“I’m allergic.”
I’m allergic to arugula. I don’t walk around saying I dislike it. I just can’t eat it.

“I prefer dogs.”
Well, it’s not one or the other, you know.

“They won’t come when you call them.”
Neither will a dog if you don’t train them. And by the way, you can train a cat. Most people just don’t bother trying.

“My grandmother’s cat scratched me when I was a kid.”
And what? You think cats share a hive mind and have marked you as one to attack in their collective consciousness?

“They’re not affectionate.”
Wrong.

“They’re not playful.”
Wrong.

Like I said, no justification they give ever satisfies me.

Often, I walk away with a feeling of ick. And if I’m not careful, before I know it I’m on a runaway train of judgment, making all sorts of assumptions about a person based on this one thing. I know I shouldn’t. But it’s so deliciously tempting to draw a connection between their dislike of cats and some other negative trait I’ve noticed.

Then I see a video like this one posted by creator @narcabusecoach Danish Bashir, claiming there is a link between narcissism and a dislike of cats — and suddenly it all makes sense.

I think: That’s it. Cats are too independent and narcissists just want to be fawned over. Therefore, narcissists hate cats. Therefore, the ick I got from that person who doesn’t like cats was actually because I was subconsciously picking up on the fact that they are, themselves, a narcissist.

It’s a neat little theory. It flatters my instincts. It confirms my bias. It turns an ambiguous feeling into something concrete.

But is it true?

What Is a Narcissist, Anyway?

When you think of a narcissist, you probably think of someone who is selfish and self-involved. While those are certainly narcissistic traits, those traits alone do not a narcissist make — at least not in the clinical sense.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) is far more complex. According to psychologist Dr. Yasmine Saad of Madison Park Psychological Services, someone diagnosed with NPD will typically exhibit a pervasive sense of grandiosity, a deep need for admiration, and significant difficulty empathizing with others. In cases of malignant narcissism, this can also include exploiting others for personal gain, deceitfulness, paranoia, sadism, controlling behavior, and a profound disregard for other people’s rights.

So where do cats figure into this diagnostic picture?

They don’t.

“Not liking cats has nothing to do with clinical narcissism or narcissistic personality disorder,” says Krista Walker, a licensed clinical social worker and clinical director at The Ohana. “This disorder involves a lack of empathy, exploitative behavior toward others, and a need for admiration. A specific preference, including not liking cats, has nothing to do with this — or any — clinical personality disorder.”

“It does tell you something,” Dr. Saad adds, “but what it tells you is different for every person, because everyone likes or dislikes things for different reasons.”

Do Narcissists Actually Dislike Cats?

Disliking cats is not an indicator of narcissism. But is there any truth to the idea that narcissists are more likely to dislike cats?

Despite the confidence with which pop psychology creators like Bashir make this claim, there is absolutely no evidence to support it.

In his video, Bashir argues that narcissists dislike cats because cats themselves are narcissists. This is, in a word, ridiculous. It suggests either a profound misunderstanding of narcissism, cats, or both — or a willingness to oversimplify in order to say something provocative enough to capture attention.

Cats are not narcissistic. Wanting affection on your own terms is not a defining trait of narcissism. If it were, then every human being alive would qualify, because we all want to be loved in specific ways.

Cats do not “draw power from your presence while acting as if they do not need it,” as Bashir claims. What does a cat care about power? Power over what — the living room sofa?

Cats care about comfort, safety, predictability, and having their needs met. A cat might sit near you without allowing you to touch it, but that isn’t a power play. It’s communication. Cats have small brains and a limited set of tools for expressing themselves. They seek food, warmth, stimulation, and security, and they repeat behaviors that get those needs met. That’s it. There is no manipulation, no control, no hidden psychological agenda.

In another video posted to TikTok, Bashir claims narcissists choose dogs over cats for “obvious reasons,” presumably because dogs are more demonstrably devoted and less demanding in exchange for their affection. But this, too, relies on caricature rather than reality.

Dogs, like cats, respond best to people who meet their needs and treat them with consistency and care. And dogs, like cats, are not all the same. Some are clingy. Some are aloof. Some love to be held. Some barely tolerate touch at all.

The supposed gulf between cats and dogs is largely built on stereotypes. So while one might imagine a narcissist preferring a dog in theory, based on these stereotypes, in practice they could be just as likely to prefer a cat — or no pet at all.

After all, pets are difficult to manipulate. Their emotional worlds are simple. You can’t play mind games with a cat or a dog. If you show them you’re unsafe or untrustworthy, they pull away. They don’t chase approval. They don’t rationalize abuse. They don’t try to win you back.

Why Ideas Like This Are So Alluring

So why do ideas like this — ideas that stretch flimsy logic into sweeping conclusions — catch on so easily?

Because they make us feel safe.

The idea that you can identify a narcissist based on something as simple as whether they like cats offers a sense of control in a chaotic social world. Narcissists are dangerous, or at least damaging, and we want to avoid them. If we can spot them early, effortlessly, based on a preference or a vibe, then we don’t have to sit with uncertainty.

Categorization is comforting. It reduces complexity. It allows us to draw clean lines between “safe” and “unsafe,” “good” and “bad,” “us” and “them.”

But subtle distinctions don’t offer the same emotional payoff. Saying that someone prefers dogs because they enjoy a more overtly responsive animal doesn’t give us anything to do with that information. It doesn’t protect us. It doesn’t validate our gut reactions. It doesn’t justify our dislike.

Calling them a narcissist does.

Extreme categories are easier to hold than nuanced ones. They feel more decisive. More actionable. More morally satisfying. If someone doesn’t like cats, it’s not enough to say they have a different temperament or preference—we escalate it into a character flaw, even a personality disorder, because that allows us to dismiss them entirely.

And, if we’re honest, it allows us to feel a little superior.

There’s also something seductive about theories that flatter our instincts. When a pop psychology explanation confirms what we already suspect—that ick I felt was justified—it absolves us of the responsibility to question ourselves. It turns bias into insight.

But real psychology is rarely that tidy. People are inconsistent. Preferences are shaped by experience, culture, fear, misinformation, and sometimes nothing more than chance. Reducing a complex human being to a single data point might feel efficient, but it’s intellectually lazy — and often wrong.

Ironically, the very behavior these theories encourage — rigid categorization, lack of curiosity, unwillingness to see individuals as individuals — has far more in common with narcissistic thinking than disliking cats ever could.

So maybe the question isn’t why some people don’t like cats.

Maybe it’s why we’re so eager to turn personal preferences into moral verdicts—and what that says about us.