Interesting concept.
After reading the link, I think maybe I've felt a bit of the "uncanny valley" effect when playing an expansion, particularly when the second architect to put hand to the land intermingles with the original routing rather than strictly tacking on an entirely new nine.
Two near me are both Tim Liddy projects - expanding Langford's Harrison Hills and Pete Dye's Eagle Creek.
I played Harrison Hills fully expecting that the old vs. new would be stark and obvious, especially considering most of the 'new' fall on flat land available for Liddy. And, yes, several of the holes on the front are clearly 'different'. They are open, the trees are immature, etc.
But among the changes he made to and around the old holes later in the round, Liddy built a par 3 that wigged me out a bit in its "Langfordishness", embraced some diagonal fairway canting that I would have expected a modern builder to iron out, and when he straightened out a longer hole toward the corner of the property, he added a decidedly non-modern dose of quirk from the approach on in.
The expansion at Eagle Creek makes me feel slightly senile.
Where he had to build on wide-open farm-flat acreage, the difference between his holes and Dye's much earlier work on severe land are, as at HH, fairly obvious.
But where he had access to the same topography and very mature woods, the holes are much harder to distinguish - so much so that I often cannot immediately remember which are his and which are Dye's, even though I played dozens of rounds at the original.
In both cases, the obviously-new holes don't do anything odd to my brain, but the more seamless ones sure holes do.
Whatever that feeling is, it is certainly NOT "revulsion" as described in the link. It's maybe a cool kind of unsettled, but it's not revulsion.
And while I can only guess, I do think the clear contrasts of the "other" holes serve to accentuate whatever that strange feeling is on the more similar-to-original holes.