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

Those who initiate gossip are usually not “the worst people,” but rather those who are most dependent on informal structures for their survival. This is the key analytical point.

Such individuals share a common trait: their position is not supported by clearly defined roles, demonstrable competence, or formal institutional authorization. Instead, it relies heavily on relationship networks, emotional bonds, and informational advantage. When structures are stable, their position feels secure. But when the structure begins to loosen—when signals of upward movement or reordering appear—they are often the first to feel threatened. For them, gossip is not a moral choice; it is a defensive tool for protecting position.

At the psychological level, these individuals are extremely sensitive to comparison. They are not primarily tracking facts, but continuously scanning relative positioning: who is receiving more attention, who is being taken more seriously, who is starting to bypass them to form direct connections. When they sense that they are losing interpretive authority or intermediary status, intense anxiety follows. Rewriting their own narrative is costly, so they choose the lowest-cost option available—preemptively contaminating the interpretive space around the other person.

From the perspective of capability structure, those who first spread gossip typically lack advantages in open, public arenas. They are not skilled at competing through work, outcomes, or logic, but they are highly adept at reading emotions, sensing shifts in momentum, and operating relationships. This makes them particularly fluent in informal transmission. They know what cannot be said, what is most effective when only half-said; they know whom to tell, when to tell them, and exactly when to stop. This is not impulsive behavior, but intuition formed through long practice.

Another crucial condition is that they often occupy a position that is peripheral yet perceived by themselves as close to the core. Those fully on the margins lack the capacity to spread gossip, and those truly at the center have no need for it. The most volatile actors are those who are near the core but lack formal authorization. Once they sense they may be replaced, bypassed, or reordered, gossip is activated to demonstrate that “the problem lies with the other person, not with a changing structure.”

In terms of motivation, those who initiate gossip almost always package their behavior as “concern,” “a reminder,” or “something that just feels a bit off.” This is not merely hypocrisy; it is a structural requirement. The first step of gossip is not the transmission of content, but the legitimization of the subject as discussable. Only once talking about someone is framed as reasonable can further circulation occur. As a result, the true starting point is rarely an accusation, but a vague unease.

Another often overlooked point is that such individuals are usually deeply averse to direct confrontation. They choose gossip precisely because it is decentralized, source-less, and unaccountable. When confronted directly, they retreat immediately to positions like “I also just heard it” or “I was only worried.” This structural exit route is what enables them to act first.

Thus, those who initiate gossip do so not because they possess the truth, but because they are the first to sense that the old order is failing while the new one has yet to arrive. Their sensitivity to change is acute, but their response to it is conservative and defensive. Rather than pushing structural renewal forward, they attempt to slow it down, pull it back, or contaminate the path of those who are rising.

Importantly, these individuals are not dull—quite the opposite. They are highly attuned to environmental shifts. They detect subtle signals early: attention being redistributed, discursive authority drifting, connection paths being rerouted, intermediary roles no longer being required. These changes may not yet be visible at the formal level, but they are already fermenting within relational space. Many people only recognize structural change after outcomes appear; these individuals sense it at the trend stage.

The problem is not that they fail to see change, but that they cannot tolerate the identity uncertainty it produces. When the old order holds, their position—though perhaps not powerful—is at least stable and legible. Once that order loosens and the new one has not yet solidified, they briefly fall into a vacuum: past labels lose validity, and future positions remain unpredictable. For them, this vacuum itself is threatening, often more so than explicit failure.

In such moments, only two paths remain. One is to push structural renewal forward, accept new sorting logics, and re-establish one’s position under new standards. The other is to prevent the change from completing, allowing the old order to “live a little longer.” The former requires ability, resources, and psychological endurance; the latter requires only relationship networks and modest linguistic skill. Unsurprisingly, most choose the latter, and gossip is its natural outcome.

It is important to note that this behavior is not always the product of clear, rational calculation. Often it functions as an instinctive response: forcing uncertainty back into familiar form. By generating vague negative narratives around those who are rising, they attempt to make the environment feel “explainable” again. Once an upward-moving individual is labeled as “problematic,” “unstable,” or “requiring observation,” the structure gains a temporary justification to delay formal recognition of change. This is not about fully discrediting the other person, but about postponing the reordering that change demands.

This explains why gossip rarely targets the strongest individuals. Those already stabilized do not need to be polluted, and those clearly weak are not worth the effort. The most efficient targets are those in transition, whose identities have not yet been locked in. For the propagator, this moment offers the best cost-benefit ratio: low risk with potentially high return.

From this angle, gossip is fundamentally a time strategy. Its goal is not victory, but delay. The degree of delay is irrelevant; all that matters is postponing uncertainty long enough for it to be repackaged— even incorrectly. For these actors, false certainty is preferable to genuine uncertainty.

Therefore, saying that they “do not push structural renewal” does not mean they lack the ability to perceive change. It means they lack the capacity or willingness to bear its cost. Their defensiveness stems not from concern for truth, but from fear of losing position. Polluting the path of those who rise is not driven by the target’s actual flaws, but by the fact that the target’s existence exposes the unreliability of the old order itself. They are not adjudicating right and wrong; they are attempting to make the world feel familiar again. Gossip is the tool they use to resist an unfamiliar future.

As for those who participate in spreading gossip, most are not deliberate manipulators, but individuals seeking security amid structural uncertainty. Their participation is more often adaptive than initiating.

In periods of instability, when evaluative standards are unclear, gossip offers many people a fast, low-risk way to “take a position.” Most participants do not believe they are doing harm; they understand their actions as sharing, warning, or maintaining relationships. For this reason, gossip does not spread through the actions of a few malicious actors, but through a collective of individuals choosing safety in the face of uncertainty.

Its persistence does not lie in its persuasive power, but in how precisely it satisfies widespread needs for position, security, and belonging.