I liked this comment from a while ago:
Being able to read people to an irregularly deep degree isn't exclusively the province of sociopaths and headcases, they're just the poster children because there's something about the juxtaposition of understanding and predatory apathy that appeals to sheep. Sort of like why people are fascinated by the myth of the vampire, as long as it can be tamed and made 'comfortable' to their understanding of the world(*coughTwilightcough*).
But no. In my experience, people dislike being understood because there's always a chasm of difference separating the person they project themselves as being from the person they really are. A man I know, to pull an example from my hat, wants to be seen as suave, genius in his chosen field of study, worldly but still passionate about geeky things, a great gentleman with regards to women, etc. He doesn't want to be regularly acquainted with someone who sees him for the flaws he so desperately ignores or explains away underneath the exterior projection. They always want to project those flaws on you if they're afraid you understand them: I've had problems in the past with one specific group of my friends who has known me a long time and also is aware of at least some of my aptitude for reading people's patterns to an uncomfortably accurate degree. I've only ever had this problem with this one group, but reliably, whenever I would be seen as getting close to a member of the group, certain individuals would go out of their way to 'poison the well' so to speak and cast doubt on me, belittle me, or do whatever it took to keep that person away from me. Had I ever displayed malicious intent towards any of my close friends? Nah. I hadn't used them and discarded them, screwed them over, or done anything socially or morally unacceptable to them. But nonetheless they would cast me as a coward, deceiver, 'weird', and so forth as a means of isolating me because they feared me, and that I would bring their whole game crashing down if I got too involved. That's the conundrum I found myself in, with them: I made certain that they respected me, but as Machiavelli so famously made into an axiom, the only way to do that reliably is fear if you can't elicit love.
I think it ties into that primal instinct of 'us and them', where 'us' is the people playing the game 'by the rules', so to speak. The rules are that people want to feel good, enjoy humor and having their ego scratched, and make memories with other people that they can point to, whenever they want to reminisce about how awesome they are. Anyone who doesn't play the game, or who plays it differently, is 'them'. That includes people who see that most of the game is bullshit posturing, If you expose yourself as someone who doesn't observe a particular set of rules, the traditional social response is persecution and isolation. That's how groups maintain themselves, from street gangs (where the persecution usually comes in nine millimeters) to the social elite.
Being able to read people to an irregularly deep degree isn't exclusively the province of sociopaths and headcases, they're just the poster children because there's something about the juxtaposition of understanding and predatory apathy that appeals to sheep. Sort of like why people are fascinated by the myth of the vampire, as long as it can be tamed and made 'comfortable' to their understanding of the world(*coughTwilightcough*).
But no. In my experience, people dislike being understood because there's always a chasm of difference separating the person they project themselves as being from the person they really are. A man I know, to pull an example from my hat, wants to be seen as suave, genius in his chosen field of study, worldly but still passionate about geeky things, a great gentleman with regards to women, etc. He doesn't want to be regularly acquainted with someone who sees him for the flaws he so desperately ignores or explains away underneath the exterior projection. They always want to project those flaws on you if they're afraid you understand them: I've had problems in the past with one specific group of my friends who has known me a long time and also is aware of at least some of my aptitude for reading people's patterns to an uncomfortably accurate degree. I've only ever had this problem with this one group, but reliably, whenever I would be seen as getting close to a member of the group, certain individuals would go out of their way to 'poison the well' so to speak and cast doubt on me, belittle me, or do whatever it took to keep that person away from me. Had I ever displayed malicious intent towards any of my close friends? Nah. I hadn't used them and discarded them, screwed them over, or done anything socially or morally unacceptable to them. But nonetheless they would cast me as a coward, deceiver, 'weird', and so forth as a means of isolating me because they feared me, and that I would bring their whole game crashing down if I got too involved. That's the conundrum I found myself in, with them: I made certain that they respected me, but as Machiavelli so famously made into an axiom, the only way to do that reliably is fear if you can't elicit love.
I think it ties into that primal instinct of 'us and them', where 'us' is the people playing the game 'by the rules', so to speak. The rules are that people want to feel good, enjoy humor and having their ego scratched, and make memories with other people that they can point to, whenever they want to reminisce about how awesome they are. Anyone who doesn't play the game, or who plays it differently, is 'them'. That includes people who see that most of the game is bullshit posturing, If you expose yourself as someone who doesn't observe a particular set of rules, the traditional social response is persecution and isolation. That's how groups maintain themselves, from street gangs (where the persecution usually comes in nine millimeters) to the social elite.