Likewise, my apologies.
But, I have another theory. I don't think it is mutually exclusive to the We Really Want to be Playing Star Wars theory.
I think we* as players sit in front of the Dungeon Master's screen and watch him roleplay monsters, evil badasses, every other kind of creature and we become envious. I think this is true today but more so in the past.
In our envy**, we want to be able to do what the Dungeon Master does. So, we lobby for it with our dollars and the designers deliver.
* The Royal 'We', if that's a thing.
** Not the bad kind of envy.
In the spirit of my previous apology, striving for a more productive response: Is it jealousy? Or is it buying into the promise of fantasy?
I mean that in both senses of the term, "promise" as "an assurance upon which expectation can be based" and as "the potential for future greatness." Because the fundamental idea of fantasy, indeed the thing we TTRPG fans champion as the
best part of D&D, is that "you can do anything." You aren't limited by the stuff a writer scripted in, nor what the art team could manage to produce, nor what a programmer could code for. You're limited solely by your imagination.
That idea of "you can do anything" is held up in both of the aforementioned senses. It's given as an offer: "The reason you want to play D&D and not WoW or Pandemic or Elden Ring is that you aren't limited to what those things already contain." And it's also given as an aspiration: "Nothing can hold you back but
you."
So, does the player covet the DM's power? Or is the player under the belief that, by being a game where "you can do anything" (quotes because
plenty of people use that exact phrase), they should be able to do a thing they find interesting/exciting/etc.? This seems to me substantially more plausible than a secret, burning envy that pushes players to act out, petulant and demanding; it also seems much more in line with the general reluctance to even consider DMing, because players do actually get that it's a hell of a lot of work, which you don't know will pan out, and which could be subject to ridicule (or at the very least disappointment.)
Or, to put a different spin on this: It seems to me that you must presume, in advance, that most people have bad motives for why they do what they do, and then select the most plausible option from among them. It is that presumption of bad motive--that, because you find these actions disruptive, the player(s) must have disruptive intent--which seems in error here.
(As an aside, the "royal we" is a thing, but it wouldn't be relevant here. It's used when a monarch speaks not as their individual person, but as or by way of the crown they hold. It's plural because the speaker is, technically, speaking for
the entirety of the nation they rule. We don't really do personal monarchy much anymore in the Anglosphere, so it wouldn't generally be used anymore. You're just using the first-person plural pronoun, with the knowledge that although it can be interpreted as referring to 100% of all gamers everywhere, it should be understood as "most" or "the vast majority" etc.)