When Mac announced to his family that he was going to become a professional ghost hunter his father nearly had a heart attack (it later turned out the chest pains were from a panic attack) and his mother began crying hysterically. To them, it was as if he had announced that he was going to join the circus. How could someone with an engineering degree from an accredited universtiy wilingly throw away a good career to chase the boogyman? How did he possibly expect to eke out a living? How would he afford any lifestyle at all, let alone a family? He must have been crazy.
In hindsight, he recognized that he was. There had to be a certain level of craziness or disconnection from reality in order to believe in paranormal activities. To see the specters as they apparated, to feel that cold chill that came from crossing the path of one, to allow onself to believe all of these things which everything that logic teaches us proves they're impossible was a bit crazy. But that didn't mean it wasn't real.
Years later he found that those who loved him, even if they didn't understand his work, appreciated his viewpoint. And they certainly appreciated the tv show he'd managed to introduce to approving audiences.
He wondered sometimes if he was dishonoring or even angering the spirits he encountered by exposing them to the world. But then he often received the answer that they wanted their story to be told and that that was why they hung around in the first place. So he consoled himself with the knowledge that he was doing a service. Not to the living whom he provided with entertainment and a connection to the otherworld they might not be able to acheive indepedently, but to the dead.