Preface: Following the previous article, this piece was completed in collaboration with ChatGPT.

The people who start spreading gossip first are usually not “the worst people,” but those who depend most heavily on informal structures to survive. This is the key point of judgment.

These people share a common trait: their position is not supported by clear roles, capabilities, or institutional authorization. Instead, it relies heavily on relationship networks, emotional ties, and informational advantage. When the structure is stable, they are safe. When the structure begins to loosen—when there are signs of rising figures or reordering—they are the first to feel threatened. For them, gossip is not a moral choice, but a tool of positional defense.

Psychologically, such people are extremely sensitive to comparison. They are not looking at facts; they are constantly scanning relative positions: who is getting more attention, who is being taken more seriously, who is starting to build direct connections that bypass them. When they realize they are losing interpretive authority or intermediary status, strong anxiety sets in. Updating their self-narrative is too costly, so they choose the lowest-cost option: preemptively contaminating the other person’s interpretive space.

In terms of capability structure, the earliest gossip spreaders usually lack advantages in open, public competition. They are not good at speaking through work, results, or logic, but they are very good at reading emotions, sensing shifts in momentum, and manipulating relationships. This makes them highly skilled at informal transmission. They know what cannot be said, what works best when “only half is said,” whom to talk to, when to talk, and when to stop. This is not impulse; it is intuition built through long practice.

There is another important condition: they are often in a position that is “peripheral but self-perceived as close to the core.” Fully marginal people lack the capacity to spread influence, and truly central figures do not need gossip. The most dangerous group is those close to the core but without formal authorization. Once they sense they may be replaced, bypassed, or reordered, gossip is activated to prove that “the problem lies with others, not with a changing structure.”

In terms of motivation, the earliest gossip spreaders almost always package their actions as “concern,” “a reminder,” or “I just feel something is a bit off.” This is not hypocrisy; it is a necessary condition. The first step of gossip is not spreading content, but legitimizing the object of discussion. Only when talking about someone becomes acceptable can everything that follows happen. That is why the true starting point is rarely an accusation, but a vague sense of unease.

Another often overlooked point is that these people are usually very afraid of direct confrontation. They choose gossip precisely because it is decentralized, source-less, and unaccountable. Once named directly, they quickly retreat to “I just heard” or “I was only worried.” This structural escape route is what makes them willing to act first.

So, the people who spread gossip first are not doing so because they possess the truth, but because they are the earliest to realize that the old order is failing while the new order has not yet arrived. Their sensitivity to change is sharp, but their way of handling change is conservative and defensive. They do not push for structural renewal; instead, they try to slow down, pull back, or contaminate the path of those who are changing things.

Importantly, these people are not dull. On the contrary, they are extremely sensitive to environmental change. They notice subtle signals early: attention being redistributed, shifts in discourse power, connection paths rerouting, intermediary roles no longer being needed. These changes have not yet taken shape at the formal level, but they are already fermenting at the relational level. Many people only realize the structure has changed after outcomes appear; these people sense something is wrong at the trend stage.

The problem is not that they cannot see change, but that they cannot bear the identity uncertainty that change brings. When the old order works, their position is clear—even if not powerful, it is at least stable. Once the old order loosens and the new one is not yet established, they fall into a temporary vacuum: past labels stop working, and future positions cannot be predicted. For them, this vacuum itself is a threat—harder to endure than clear failure.

In this state, there are two possible paths. One is to push structural renewal, accept new ranking logic, and re-prove oneself under new standards. The other is to prevent change from completing and let the old order “live a little longer.” The former requires ability, resources, and psychological resilience; the latter requires only relationship networks and a bit of language skill. As a result, they almost inevitably choose the latter. Gossip is the natural outcome of that choice.

It should be noted that this behavior is not always the result of clear rational calculation. Often it appears as an instinctive reaction: pressing uncertainty back into place. By creating vague negative narratives about those who are rising, they try to make the environment feel “explainable” again. Once a rising person is labeled as “problematic,” “unstable,” or “needing observation,” the structure gains a temporary excuse to delay acknowledging change. This is not to completely deny the other person, but to delay the reordering brought by change.

This is also why gossip targets are often not the most capable people, but those who are changing yet not formally recognized. Stable figures do not need to be polluted, and truly weak ones are not worth the effort. Only those in transition, whose identities are not yet locked in, are the most effective targets. For the spreader, this is the moment with the best cost–benefit ratio: low risk, potentially high return.

From this perspective, gossip is essentially a time strategy. It is not about winning, but about delaying. How long the delay lasts does not matter, as long as uncertainty can be repackaged— even in the wrong way. For them, false certainty is more tolerable than real uncertainty.

Therefore, saying that they “do not push structural renewal” does not mean they lack the ability to sense change, but that they lack the ability or willingness to bear the cost of change. Their defensiveness comes from fear of losing position, not from concern for truth. Polluting the path of those who are rising is not because the other person truly has a problem, but because that person’s very existence exposes the fact that the old order is no longer reliable. They are not judging right versus wrong; they are trying to make the world feel familiar again. Gossip is the tool they use to resist an unfamiliar future.

Those who participate in spreading gossip are usually not active manipulators, but people seeking safety amid structural uncertainty. Their participation is more about compliance than initiation.

The first group consists of people with positional anxiety but weak judgment. They do not clearly understand the facts and lack the ability or willingness to independently verify information. When structures change and evaluation standards blur, their greatest fear is not being wrong, but “being on the wrong side.” Gossip offers a low-cost solution: follow the existing narrative and you are unlikely to make a big mistake. Repeating gossip is, for them, a form of betting—betting on dominant emotion rather than facts.

The second group depends on relationship networks to access resources. Their opportunities, information, and even sense of security come from “who they are close to,” not “what they have done.” When a core relational node releases a certain emotion or signal, participating in gossip becomes a way to maintain that relationship. Repeating gossip is essentially a declaration: “I am on your side.” Truth is irrelevant; what matters is that the stance is seen.

The third group has weak personal boundaries. They do not clearly distinguish between “what I know” and “what I should say,” and they struggle to tolerate informational uncertainty. Once they hear something vague and emotional, they feel a strong urge to pass it on. For them, spreading gossip is more like emotional discharge than a deliberate choice.

The fourth group lacks direct access to firsthand interaction. When they cannot form judgments through direct contact, they rely more heavily on secondhand narratives. Gossip fills the information vacuum and makes them feel “not left out.” Even if the information is distorted, it still feels safer than knowing nothing.

The fifth group fears social isolation. In informal opinion systems, silence can be interpreted as an unclear stance. To avoid suspicion or exclusion, these people choose to participate in spreading gossip, even if they do not fully agree with it. Their retellings often include hesitation—“I’m not sure,” “I just heard”—but the act of transmission still occurs.

There is also a more hidden group: those who treat gossip as social currency. For them, information itself has exchange value. By saying “I know some insider details,” they gain presence, voice, or temporary centrality. They may not be malicious, but they unintentionally amplify the spread.

It is important to emphasize that most people who participate do not believe they are “doing harm.” They often feel they are simply sharing, warning, or maintaining relationships. They participate because, during periods of structural ambiguity, gossip offers a fast, low-risk way to position oneself.

Structurally speaking, the spread of gossip is not driven by a few bad actors, but by a group of people choosing what feels safest amid uncertainty. Its persistence does not come from persuasive power, but from how precisely it satisfies people’s needs for position, security, and belonging.