AI-Enhanced Edition: Psychological Types by Jung (1921) – Translated & Improved

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Chapter X: General Description of the Types

Please note, the following prompt is based on the translation by H. Godwyn Baynes from 1923 and is used with GPT-4, using multiple small tokens for a better results:

Only correct spelling, grammar and improve clarity when necessary, retaining the original form as much as possible

Table of Contents

An Introduction

In the following pages, I shall attempt a general description of the types, my primary focus being on the two categories I have termed introverted and extraverted. Additionally, I aim to provide a characterization of those unique types whose distinctiveness arises from the fact that their most differentiated function plays a key role in an individual’s adaptation or orientation to life. I refer to the first as general attitude types, distinguished by the direction of general interest or libido movement, and the latter as function-types.

General attitude types, as I have mentioned more than once, are differentiated by their specific attitude towards the object. The introvert’s attitude towards the object is one of abstraction; fundamentally, he is constantly faced with the challenge of withdrawing libido from the object, as if to perpetually counter any attempted dominance by the object. In contrast, the extravert maintains a positive relationship with the object, valuing its significance to such a degree that his subjective attitude is continuously oriented by and related to the object. Ultimately, the object can never be valued enough; for him, therefore, its significance is always of utmost importance.

The two types are fundamentally different, presenting such a striking contrast that their existence becomes a clear fact to even those uninitiated in psychological matters, once it is pointed out. Who is not familiar with those reserved, impenetrable, often shy individuals who stand in vivid contrast to the open, sociable, perhaps serene, or at least friendly and approachable characters? These individuals are on good terms with the world, and even when they disagree with it, they still maintain a relationship with it that affects both them and their environment mutually.

Naturally, at first, one might consider such differences as mere individual idiosyncrasies. However, anyone with the opportunity to acquire a fundamental understanding of many individuals will soon realize that such a far-reaching contrast is not confined to individual cases but reflects typical attitudes with a universality much greater than one might initially assume based on limited psychological experience. In fact, as the preceding chapters have illustrated, we are dealing with a fundamental opposition; sometimes clear and sometimes obscure, but consistently present when considering individuals with distinctly pronounced personalities.

These individuals are not only found among the educated classes but across every social stratum; thus, our types are as discernible among laborers and peasants as among the most sophisticated members of a nation. Moreover, these types transcend gender differences, with the same contrasts observable among women of all classes. Such universal distribution is unlikely to stem from conscious choice—that is, from a conscious and deliberate selection of attitude. If that were the case, a specific level of society, unified by similar education and environment, and thus correspondingly localized, would surely exhibit a predominant representation of such an attitude. However, the reality is quite the opposite, as the types appear to be distributed quite randomly. [p. 414] Within the same family, one child may be introverted, and another extraverted.

Given these observations, the attitude type, seen as a general phenomenon with an apparently random distribution, cannot be the result of conscious judgment or intention. Its presence must therefore stem from some unconscious instinctive cause. Consequently, the contrast of types, as a universal psychological phenomenon, must in some manner have its biological precursor.

The relationship between subject and object, from a biological perspective, is always one of adaptation, since every interaction between subject and object presupposes mutually modifying effects from both sides. These modifications constitute the adaptation process. Therefore, the typical attitudes towards the object are, in essence, processes of adaptation. Nature employs two fundamentally different methods of adaptation, which dictate the continued existence of the living organism: one is through increased fertility, accompanied by a relatively low degree of defensive capability and individual preservation; the other is through individual equipment with various means of self-protection, coupled with relatively low fertility.

This biological contrast appears not only to be analogous but also to serve as the general basis for our two psychological modes of adaptation. At this juncture, a brief general indication must suffice; on one hand, I need only highlight the characteristic of the extravert, who constantly seeks to expend and propagate himself in every way, and on the other, the introvert’s tendency to shield himself from external demands, to conserve energy from being directly expended on the object, thereby securing for himself the most fortified and impregnable position.

Blake’s intuition was accurate when he identified the two types as the “prolific” and the “devouring.” [1] As the general biological example illustrates, both forms are prevalent and successful in their own right; this holds true for the typical attitudes as well. What one achieves through a multiplicity of relationships, the other accomplishes through monopoly.

The observation that children often display a distinct typical attitude from their earliest years leads us to conclude that the struggle for existence, as traditionally understood, cannot be the sole determinant favoring a specific attitude. It might be argued, and with good reason, that even the infant, the very babe at the breast, must perform an unconscious psychological adaptation, given that the unique character of maternal influence elicits specific reactions in the child. While this argument is supported by undeniable facts, it must nonetheless concede to the equally incontrovertible observation that two children of the same mother can exhibit opposite types at a very early age, without any noticeable change in the mother’s attitude. Although I would never downplay the almost immeasurable importance of parental influence, this evidence leads me to believe that the decisive factor must lie in the child’s own disposition.

The fact that, despite very similar external conditions, one child develops one type and another child a different type, must ultimately be attributed to individual disposition. Of course, my comments here apply only to situations that unfold under normal conditions. Under abnormal conditions, that is, when there is an extreme, and thus abnormal, attitude in the mother, children can also be coerced into a relatively similar attitude; however, this coerces a violation of their individual disposition, which might have developed differently had there been no abnormal and disruptive external influence. Typically, when such a misalignment of type occurs due to external influence, the individual later becomes neurotic, and a cure can only be found through the development of an attitude that aligns with the individual’s natural inclination.

As for the nature of this particular disposition, it is difficult to specify, except to acknowledge that some individuals inherently possess a greater readiness and capacity for one type of adaptation over another, or find one way more congenial than the other. It is possible that physiological factors, beyond our current understanding, influence this predisposition. This seems likely, considering the experience that a reversal of type can be extremely detrimental to the physiological health of the organism, often leading to a state of acute exhaustion.

The Extraverted Type

In our exploration of this and subsequent types, it is crucial, for the sake of clear and comprehensive exposition, to distinguish between conscious and unconscious psychology. Let us initially focus on the phenomena of consciousness.

(I) THE GENERAL ATTITUDE OF CONSCIOUSNESS

Admittedly, everyone is oriented by the data the external world provides; however, this orientation can vary in its decisiveness. For instance, the cold weather convinces one person to wear an overcoat, while another, wishing to acclimatize, deems it unnecessary. Similarly, one individual admires a new tenor because he is universally praised, while another withholds approval, not due to dislike but because widespread admiration does not, in their view, confirm worthiness. When one person accepts a situation based on past experience, another believes that despite a thousand repetitions, the next instance might differ. The former is oriented by objective data; the latter retains a perspective that mediates between themselves and the objective fact.

When orientation towards the object and objective facts predominates to the extent that most decisions and actions are dictated not by subjective values but by objective relations, we speak of an extraverted attitude. Habitual exhibition of this orientation defines the extraverted type. If an individual thinks, feels, acts—in short, lives—in alignment with objective conditions and their demands, whether positively or negatively, he is extraverted. His life clearly demonstrates that objective, rather than subjective, values play the more significant role in determining his consciousness. While he possesses subjective values, their influence is secondary to that of external objective conditions. Consequently, he never anticipates finding absolute factors within his own inner life, as the only absolutes he recognizes are external. Like Epimetheus, his inner life yields to external necessity, albeit not without resistance, which invariably concludes in favor of the objective determinant. His entire consciousness is outward-looking because significant and decisive influences invariably originate externally.

This expectation explains why distinguishing features of his psychology, beyond the predominance of a specific psychological function or individual peculiarities, stem from this fundamental attitude. His interest and attention are captured by objective events, especially those in his immediate surroundings. Not just people, but objects too, captivate and engage his interest. Thus, his actions are influenced by the presence of people and objects, directly correlating to objective data and determinations, and are exhaustively explicable on these grounds. Extraverted action is evidently connected to objective conditions and, when not merely reactive to environmental stimuli, its nature consistently aligns with actual circumstances, finding suitable and apt expression within the bounds of the objective situation without the inclination to exceed these limits. The same is true for interest: the allure of objective events is nearly limitless, so that, typically, the extravert’s interest ventures no further.

The moral principles guiding his actions align with the prevailing norms of society, that is, with the generally accepted moral viewpoint. If the consensus on what is deemed moral were to shift, so too would the subjective moral compass, without any alteration to the general psychological disposition. It might seem, though inaccurately, that this strict adherence to objective factors guarantees an ideal and complete adaptation to the general conditions of life. From the extraverted perspective, such conformity to objective data appears as a full adaptation, as no other benchmark is recognized. However, from a broader viewpoint, it is not always assumed that prioritizing objectively presented facts is appropriate under all circumstances.

Objective conditions can be temporarily or locally abnormal. An individual adapted to such conditions indeed matches the peculiar style of his environment but, in the context of universally applicable life principles, finds himself, along with his surroundings, in an abnormal state. An individual may flourish in such conditions but only until he, along with his entire milieu, faces ruin for violating the universal laws of life. His adjustment to the previously valid objective situation guarantees his full participation in its downfall. He is adjusted but not adapted, as true adaptation requires more than merely seamless engagement with the transient conditions of the immediate surroundings. (Here, I refer again to Spitteler’s Epimetheus).

Adaptation demands adherence to laws that are far more universally applicable than merely local and temporary conditions. Simple adjustment typifies the normal extraverted individual. On one hand, the extravert’s normativity stems from his capacity to assimilate into existing conditions with relative ease. He aspires solely to fulfill the current objective possibilities, engaging, for instance, in a profession that offers solid prospects given the current situation. He endeavors to meet the immediate needs and expectations of his environment, avoiding any innovation that isn’t blatantly obvious or that might surpass the anticipations of those around him. However, on the other hand, his normality crucially depends on whether he acknowledges the reality of his subjective needs and requirements, which constitutes his Achilles’ heel.

The outward focus of his type is so pronounced that even the most evident subjective reality—the state of his own body—can be grossly neglected. The body, being insufficiently objective or ‘external,’ leads to the disregard of basic needs essential for physical health. Consequently, not only does the body suffer but the soul as well. Although the extravert might overlook this, his close family and friends perceive it more acutely. He only recognizes his imbalance when unusual bodily sensations arise, undeniable tangibles he cannot disregard. For his mindset, these are considered concrete and ‘objective,’ for he acknowledges no other reality within himself. In others, he perceives these as mere figments of “imagination.” An overly extraverted attitude can become so detached from the subject that the latter is entirely neglected in favor of so-called objective demands, such as the expansion of a business, because of the immediate need to address orders or the allure of lucrative opportunities that demand instant attention.

This represents a significant peril for the extravert: he risks becoming so entangled in objects that he completely loses himself within their confines. The functional (nervous) or actual physical disorders stemming from this predicament serve a compensatory purpose, compelling the individual towards an involuntary self-limitation. If the symptoms are functional, their unique formation might symbolically reflect the psychological state. For example, a singer, whose fame escalates rapidly to a dangerous level, prompting an unsustainable expenditure of energy, might suddenly find himself incapable of hitting the high notes due to a nervous inhibition.

Similarly, a man from humble beginnings who swiftly ascends to a position of considerable influence and broad opportunities might suddenly be afflicted by a psychogenic condition, exhibiting all symptoms akin to mountain sickness. Another case involves a man about to marry an overly idealized woman of dubious character, whom he grossly overvalues, suddenly experiencing an esophageal spasm. This condition limits him to a diet of two cups of milk daily, requiring his attention every three hours, effectively halting all visits to his fiancée and forcing him to focus solely on his physical wellbeing. Additionally, a man who, through his own initiative and effort, has developed a vast enterprise, thereby assuming an overwhelming workload, may suffer from nervous bouts of thirst, which quickly lead to hysterical alcoholism.

In my assessment, hysteria is the most common neurosis among extraverted types. The classic instance of hysteria is marked by an overemphasized connection with one’s social circle and an overtly imitative adaptation to environmental conditions. A fundamental characteristic of the hysterical disposition is a constant effort to seek attention and make an impact on one’s surroundings. This is accompanied by the well-known suggestibility of the hysteric, a readiness to be swayed by another’s influence. The hysteric’s extraversion is notably evident in their communicativeness, which can sometimes extend to sharing entirely fantastical stories, hence the accusation of the so-called hysterical lie.

Initially, the ‘hysterical’ personality represents an extreme form of the normal attitude, later compounded by compensatory reactions from the unconscious. These reactions signify the unconscious’s resistance to the excessive extraversion, manifesting as physical ailments and necessitating a shift of psychic energy towards introversion. Consequently, a new set of symptoms emerges, bearing a more introverted nature, with an abnormal increase in fantasy activity as a primary feature. Having outlined the general traits of the extraverted attitude, we will next explore the modifications undergone by the basic psychological functions due to this orientation.

(II) THE ATTITUDE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS

It might appear unusual to discuss the attitude of the ‘unconscious’. As previously outlined, I view the relationship between the unconscious and conscious as compensatory. From this perspective, the unconscious is equally entitled to an ‘attitude’ as the conscious is.

In the previous section, I highlighted the tendency towards a certain one-sidedness in the extraverted attitude, influenced significantly by the objective factor in the progression of psychic events. The extraverted type is often inclined to seemingly surrender to the object and assimilate his subject to the object. I have detailed the ultimate outcomes of this exaggeration of the extraverted attitude, namely, the detrimental suppression of the subjective factor. Consequently, it is anticipated that the psychic compensation for the conscious extraverted attitude would emphasize the subjective factor, indicating a pronounced egocentric tendency in the unconscious. Practical experience indeed verifies this.

I will not delve into a case-by-case examination here but instead direct readers to forthcoming sections, where I aim to depict the characteristic attitude of the unconscious from the perspective of each function-type. At this juncture, our focus is on compensating for a general extraverted attitude, and I shall thus limit my discussion to a broad characterization of the unconscious’s compensating attitude.

The unconscious’s attitude, serving as an effective complement to the conscious extraverted stance, distinctly fosters introversion. It directs libido towards the subjective factor, encompassing all those needs and claims that are suppressed or ignored by an overly extraverted conscious attitude. As inferred from the previous section, a purely objective orientation does injustice to a plethora of subjective emotions, intentions, needs, and desires by depriving them of the energy they rightfully deserve. Humans are not machines that can be reassembled at will for different purposes, expecting them to function just as normally in a completely altered manner. Humans carry their extensive history within them; their very structure embodies the history of mankind.

The historical aspect is a crucial need that demands a thoughtful response. The past must somehow be allowed to speak and have a role in the present. Complete adaptation to the object thus faces opposition from the suppressed minority, elements that are rooted in the past and have been present from the beginning. From this broad perspective, we can understand why the unconscious demands of the extraverted type typically exhibit a primitive, infantile, and egocentric nature. When Freud suggests that the unconscious is “only able to wish,” this statement largely holds true for the unconscious of the extraverted type. The process of adjustment and assimilation to objective data blocks inadequate subjective impulses from reaching awareness.

These tendencies (including thoughts, desires, emotions, needs, and feelings) assume a regressive character in proportion to their suppression; that is, the less they are acknowledged, the more infantile and archaic they become. The conscious attitude drains them of their readily available energy, leaving behind only the energy it cannot strip away. This residual energy, still significantly potent, can best be described as primal instinct. Instinct cannot be eradicated from an individual through mere force or sudden changes; it requires the slow, organic evolution across many generations to bring about substantial change, for instinct represents the energetic expression of a specific organic basis.

Every repressed tendency retains a significant amount of energy. This energy is proportionate to the instinct’s strength, preserving its efficacy despite the loss of energy that results in its unconscious status. The extent of extraversion in the conscious attitude is mirrored by a corresponding level of infantilism and archaism in the unconscious attitude. The egoism often observed in the unconscious attitude of the extravert surpasses simple childish self-centeredness and can border on the malicious and cruel. This is where Freud’s concept of the incest wish finds its most vivid expression. It’s crucial to understand that these aspects are entirely unconscious, remaining hidden from those unfamiliar with these concepts as long as the conscious attitude’s extraversion doesn’t reach an extreme level.

However, when there’s an overemphasis on the conscious perspective, the unconscious begins to manifest symptomatically, meaning the unconscious egoism, infantilism, and archaism no longer serve merely compensatory roles but emerge in more or less direct opposition to the conscious attitude. This typically starts with an unreasonable intensification of the conscious standpoint, aimed at further repressing the unconscious but often leads to a reductio ad absurdum of the conscious attitude, culminating in its collapse. The catastrophe might manifest objectively, as subjective objectives gradually distort the actual goals. I recall a printer who, beginning as an employee, climbed through two decades of hard work to become the independent owner of a vast business. As the business grew, it increasingly dominated him, eventually monopolizing all his interests. He became entangled in its web, leading to his downfall, as we’ll see.

As a form of compensation for his singular focus on the business, childhood memories resurfaced. He had once enjoyed painting and drawing as a child. However, instead of reviving this skill as a complementary hobby, he incorporated it into his business, imagining ‘artistic’ enhancements for his products. Unfortunately, his fantasies became reality: he began producing items that matched his primitive and infantile tastes, leading to the rapid decline of his business. He followed one of our ‘civilized ideals’ which advocates for dedicating all efforts towards a single goal. But he overextended, ultimately succumbing to the influence of his subjective, infantile demands.

The resolution to such conflicts can also be subjective, manifesting as a nervous breakdown. This outcome typically results from the unconscious counteraction that eventually undermines conscious initiative. Consequently, the demands of the unconscious assert themselves forcibly upon consciousness, creating a disastrous divide that usually manifests in one of two ways: either the individual becomes indecisive, losing interest in everything, or he becomes overly ambitious, showing intense interest in unattainable objectives. The repression of infantile and primitive desires, often deemed necessary by “civilized” standards, can lead to neurosis or to the abuse of substances like alcohol, morphine, cocaine, etc. In more severe cases, this schism culminates in suicide.

A notable feature of unconscious tendencies is that they take on a correspondingly destructive nature to the extent they are deprived of energy through a lack of conscious acknowledgment. Once this occurs, their compensatory role ends. They stop being compensatory when they descend to a depth or stratum utterly incompatible with our culture. At this point, unconscious tendencies form an oppositional block against the conscious attitude, inevitably resulting in open conflict.

Generally, the compensating attitude of the unconscious is expressed in the process of achieving psychic equilibrium. A normal extraverted attitude does not imply that the individual acts entirely in line with the extraverted model. Even within the same person, numerous psychological processes involving the introversion mechanism can be observed. An attitude is considered extraverted only when extraversion mechanisms dominate.

In such cases, the most highly differentiated function is consistently applied in an extraverted manner, while the inferior functions are relegated to introversion. This means the more valued function, being more conscious, is more thoroughly subjected to conscious control and intention, while the less conscious, or partly unconscious, inferior functions are less governed by conscious choice.

The superior function epitomizes the conscious personality, embodying its goals, desires, and accomplishments, whereas the inferior functions pertain to experiences that occur to an individual. These do not only lead to mistakes, such as a slip of the tongue or pen, but can also produce half-hearted or incomplete decisions, given that the inferior functions maintain a minimal level of consciousness. A prime example is the extraverted feeling type, who generally maintains excellent emotional rapport with those around him but sometimes expresses opinions of remarkable tactlessness. These views originate from his inferior and partially conscious thinking, which is not fully under control and is inadequately connected to the object. Consequently, it can act without consideration or accountability to a significant extent.

In the extraverted stance, the inferior functions often exhibit a pronounced subjective bias and egocentrism, highlighting their strong link to the unconscious. Through these functions, the unconscious frequently surfaces. It is important not to assume that the unconscious is so deeply buried beneath layers that it can only be accessed through extensive effort. Instead, there is a steady flow of unconscious content into the conscious process, sometimes to such an extent that it becomes challenging to distinguish which traits are conscious and which are unconscious.

This is particularly true for individuals who tend to express themselves excessively. The perception of whether a personality’s traits are conscious or unconscious greatly depends on the observer’s approach: a judging observer might focus on the conscious aspects, while a perceptive observer might be more attuned to the unconscious aspects. This is because judgment is mainly concerned with the conscious motivation behind psychological processes, whereas perception is inclined to note the occurrence of events. When perception and judgment are applied equally, a personality might appear both introverted and extraverted, making it difficult to determine which attitude the superior function aligns with. In such instances, only a detailed analysis of the function qualities can provide clarity.

During this analysis, it is crucial to identify which function is under the deliberate control and motivation of consciousness and which functions act spontaneously or accidentally. The former is always more differentiated than the latter, which often exhibits more infantile and primitive characteristics. At times, the primary function may seem normal, while the secondary functions may appear abnormal or pathological.

(III) THE PECULIARITIES OF THE BASIC PSYCHOLOGICAL FUNCTIONS IN THE EXTRAVERTED ATTITUDE

1. Thinking

As a result of the general attitude of extraversion, thinking is oriented by the object and objective data. This orientation gives rise to a distinct peculiarity in thinking.

Thinking generally draws from two sources: firstly, from subjective and ultimately unconscious roots, and secondly, from objective data conveyed through sense perceptions.

Extraverted thinking is more significantly influenced by these latter factors than by the former. Judgment invariably requires a criterion; for the extraverted judgment, the valid and determining criterion is derived from objective conditions, regardless of whether this is directly represented by an objectively perceptible fact, or expressed in an objective idea. An objective idea, even when endorsed subjectively, is external and objective in origin. Thus, extraverted thinking is not necessarily limited to concrete thinking; it may also encompass purely ideal thinking, especially if it is shown that the ideas it engages with are largely acquired from external sources, i.e., transmitted through tradition and education.

The criterion for determining whether thinking is extraverted hinges directly on the question: by which standard is its judgment governed—is it external, or is its origin subjective? Another criterion is the direction of the thinker’s conclusions, specifically, whether the thinking is preferentially directed outward. The fact that it is preoccupied with concrete objects does not confirm its extraverted nature, as I may engage with a concrete object either by abstracting my thought from it or by concretizing my thought with it. Even when engaging with concrete things, thereby appearing extraverted, it remains both questionable and characteristic as to the direction the thinking will take; namely, whether it leads back to objective data, external facts, and generally accepted ideas, or not.

The objective direction is immediately apparent in the practical thinking of the merchant, the engineer, or the pioneer in natural science. However, in the case of a philosopher, it is debatable, especially when his thinking is directed towards ideas. In such instances, we must further inquire whether these ideas are mere abstractions from objective experience, representing higher collective concepts that encompass a sum of objective facts; or if they are not derived from immediate experience, whether they might be sourced from tradition or the intellectual atmosphere of the time. In the latter case, these ideas would also fall into the category of objective data, thereby classifying this thinking as extraverted.

While I do not intend to delve into the nature of introverted thinking at this juncture, opting to discuss it in a later section, it is nevertheless crucial to offer some preliminary remarks on it before proceeding further. Given what I have previously outlined about extraverted thinking, one could mistakenly assume that such an explanation encompasses all that is typically understood as thinking. Indeed, one might argue that thinking, which neither targets objective facts nor gravitates towards general ideas, hardly deserves the label ‘thinking’. I acknowledge that the prevailing thought of our era, along with its most distinguished proponents, exclusively recognizes the extraverted type of thinking. This recognition stems partly from the observation that all thinking manifesting visibly in the world—be it through science, philosophy, or even art—either originates directly from objects or converges into general ideas. From either perspective, though not always entirely clear, it at least seems fundamentally comprehensible, and hence relatively valid. In this context, it might be asserted that the extraverted intellect, that is, the mind guided by objective data, is in fact the only form acknowledged.

However, there exists—addressing now the matter of the introverted intellect—a completely distinct form of thinking to which the term “thinking” is unquestionably applicable. This form is neither influenced by immediate objective experiences nor fixated on general and objectively derived ideas. I arrive at this alternate form of thinking as follows: When my thought process is occupied with a concrete object or general idea in such a manner that my thinking ultimately circles back to my object, this intellectual activity is not the sole psychic operation occurring within me at that moment.

Setting aside all potential sensations and emotions that may emerge as a distracting backdrop to my train of thought, I emphasize that this very thinking, stemming from objective data and aiming back at the object, also maintains a perpetual connection to the subject. This relationship is an indispensable prerequisite, without which no thinking process could occur. Although my thinking strives to be as objective as possible, it remains a subjective process, unable to elude or disregard its subjective components. Even when I exert my utmost effort to orient my thought process objectively, I cannot shut out the simultaneous subjective process without snuffing out the very essence of my thought. This concurrent subjective process naturally tends, with only relative avoidability, to subjectify objective facts, that is, to integrate them into the subject.

When significant value is placed on the subjective process, a distinct form of thinking emerges that contrasts with extraverted thinking, which I identify as introverted thinking. This form of thinking is not shaped by objective facts nor aimed at objective data. Instead, it originates from subjective data and targets subjective ideas or facts with a subjective nature. I will not delve deeper into this type of thinking at this moment; my goal is simply to acknowledge its presence to provide a necessary counterbalance to the extraverted thinking process, thereby bringing its characteristics into sharper relief.

Extraverted thinking becomes predominant when there is a notable orientation towards the object. This emphasis does not alter the logic of thought but distinguishes between thinkers, a variation James considers a matter of temperament. The object-focused orientation does not fundamentally change the thinking function; it merely affects its manifestation. Governed by objective data, it appears to be captivated by the object, as if it could not exist without this external orientation. It may seem as though it were a sequence of external events or that it reaches its apex when aligning with a universally valid idea.

It appears to be constantly influenced by objective data, drawing conclusions that align closely with these. Thus, it may seem to lack freedom or exhibit shortsightedness, despite being adept within its objectively defined realm. What I describe is the impression this type of thinking makes on an observer with a differing perspective, for without it, he could not discern the phenomenon of extraverted thinking. From his unique vantage point, he sees its facade rather than its essence, leading to a potentially depreciative judgment. However, in essence, this thinking is as productive and creative as introverted thinking, though its talents serve different purposes.

This distinction becomes particularly evident when extraverted thinking processes material that is inherently the focus of subjectively oriented thinking. For example, when a subjective conviction is analytically interpreted from objective facts or considered a product of objective ideas. To our ‘scientifically’ oriented consciousness, the difference between these modes of thinking becomes stark when subjectively oriented thinking attempts to connect objective data in ways not objectively presented, thereby subjecting them to a subjective idea. Each perceives the other as an intrusion, creating a shadow effect where each type presents its least favorable aspect to the other. Subjectively oriented thinking may then seem arbitrary, while extraverted thinking may appear exceedingly mundane and banal. Consequently, the two perspectives are in constant conflict.

One might assume that the conflict between subjectively and objectively oriented thinking could be easily resolved by distinguishing between subjective and objective objects. However, such a distinction is not only challenging but practically impossible, despite numerous attempts to achieve it. Even if separation were feasible, it would prove detrimental, as both orientations are inherently one-sided and possess limited validity, necessitating mutual correction. Thinking becomes sterile when overly influenced by objective data, relegating it to a mere accessory of these facts and stripping it of the ability to detach from them to form an abstract idea.

The thought process is reduced to mere ‘reflection’, not in the sense of deep contemplation, but as an imitation that fails to make significant assertions beyond what is already evident in the objective data. This type of thinking invariably leads back to the objective fact without transcending it, thus never facilitating the linkage of experience with an objective idea. Conversely, when such thinking focuses on an objective idea, it fails to grasp practical, individual experiences, remaining in a somewhat redundant stance. The materialistic viewpoint provides a stark illustration of this.

When extraverted thinking becomes overly subjugated to objective data due to intensified objective determination, it loses itself in individual experiences on one side, accumulating a mass of undigested empirical material. The overwhelming array of disconnected individual experiences produces a state of intellectual dissociation which, conversely, often requires psychological compensation. This compensation must manifest as an idea both as simplistic as it is universal, to lend coherence to the amassed but inherently disjointed whole, or at least suggest such cohesion. Concepts like “matter” or “energy” serve well for this purpose.

However, when thinking relies more on an adopted or second-hand idea than on external facts, the idea’s deficiency calls for compensation through an even more considerable collection of facts. These facts then exhibit a biased arrangement that reflects the relatively narrow and barren perspective, inadvertently neglecting many valuable and logical aspects of the subjects. The overwhelming proliferation of so-called scientific literature today is lamentably indebted to this phenomenon, showcasing the detrimental effects of an imbalance between subjective and objective orientations in thinking.

2. The Extraverted Thinking Type

It is a well-documented observation that the primary psychological functions—thinking, feeling, sensation, and intuition—rarely exhibit equal strength or development within a single individual. Typically, one or more functions dominate in terms of both strength and development. When thinking takes precedence, such that an individual’s life is predominantly governed by reflective thinking, with every significant action derived from intellectually evaluated motives, or at least shows a tendency towards such motivation, we can accurately describe this individual as a thinking type. This classification can be further delineated into introverted or extraverted thinking types. Our focus here will be on the extraverted thinking type.

Defined accordingly, we envision a person whose consistent goal—assuming, of course, he exemplifies a pure type—is to align his entire life activities with intellectual conclusions, which are ultimately influenced by objective data, encompassing both objective facts and universally accepted ideas. This individual grants decisive authority, not just for himself but also for those around him, to either the concrete objective reality or to its intellectually formulated, objective interpretation. By this interpretation are the concepts of good and evil, beauty and ugliness judged. All that aligns with this interpretation is deemed correct; anything that contradicts it is wrong; and all that is neutral towards it is considered incidental. Since this interpretation appears to mirror the essence of the world, it also becomes a universal law that must be pursued at all times and by all means, both individually and collectively.

Just as the extraverted thinking type commits himself to his formula, so must his circle, for anyone who resists is in error, opposing the universal law, and thereby acting unreasonably, immorally, and without conscience. His ethical principles do not permit exceptions; his ideal must be realized under any circumstances since, in his view, it represents the most accurate expression of objective reality and thus constitutes a universally valid truth, essential for humanity’s salvation. This stance is not borne out of a profound affection for his fellow human but from a loftier vantage point of fairness and truth. Any aspect of his nature that seems to undermine this formula is regarded as a flaw, a mere anomaly to be corrected in future endeavors, or, should failures persist, then it is surely indicative of an ailment.

If the formula includes tolerance for the sick, suffering, or mentally disturbed, specific measures for creating humane societies, hospitals, prisons, colonies, etc., will be developed, or at least comprehensive plans for such initiatives will be formulated. However, the actual implementation of these projects often requires more than just the motives of justice and truth; it typically falls to genuine Christian charity, which is more about feeling than any intellectual imperative of ‘One really should’ or ‘One must’ that prominently features in this agenda. If the formula is sufficiently inclusive, it can play a beneficial role in social life, whether as a reformer, a whistleblower on public injustices, a cleanser of public conscience, or as an advocate for significant innovations. Yet, the more inflexible the formula becomes, the more the individual tends towards becoming a complainer, a sly logician, and a self-righteous critic, who attempts to force both themselves and others into a single framework.

We have sketched two extreme profiles, with the majority of individuals of this type falling somewhere between these extremes.

Consistent with the nature of the extraverted attitude, the influence and efforts of such personalities are more positive and helpful the further one is from their core. Their most beneficial impacts are observed at the edges of their sphere of influence. As we delve deeper into their domain, the negative consequences of their dogmatism become increasingly apparent. Life thrives at the periphery, where the truth of the formula is appreciated as a valuable supplement.

Yet, as we venture into the central area where the formula is most strictly applied, we observe life diminishing around everything that does not conform to its mandates. It is often the closest family members who endure the most unpleasant effects of an extraverted formula, as they are the first to be relentlessly subjected to its ‘blessings.’ However, it is the individual themselves who suffers the most from this arrangement, which leads us to explore the other aspects of the psychology of this type.

If tolerance for the sick, suffering, or mentally disturbed is a component of the formula, specific measures for establishing humane societies, hospitals, prisons, and colonies will be outlined, or at least comprehensive plans for such initiatives. However, the actual implementation of these schemes often goes beyond the motives of justice and truth, relying on genuine Christian charity, which is more connected to emotion than any intellectual obligation like ‘One really should’ or ‘One must.’ If the formula is sufficiently broad, it can serve a beneficial role in society, whether as a catalyst for reform, an expositor of public grievances, a cleanser of public conscience, or as a champion of significant innovations. Yet, the more inflexible the formula, the more one tends to become a complainer, a cunning debater, and a self-righteous critic, keen on molding both themselves and others into a single framework.

We have described two extreme types, with the majority of individuals of this kind falling somewhere between these polarities.

The nature of the extraverted attitude ensures that such personalities’ influence and activities are more positive and constructive the further they extend from the center. Their most beneficial impact is observed on the fringes of their sphere of influence. As we delve deeper into their domain, the adverse effects of their dominance become increasingly evident. Life thrives at the periphery, where the formula’s validity is recognized as a valuable supplement. Yet, as we venture further into the core area where the formula is applied, we notice a diminishing vitality around everything that does not align with its rules. Often, it is the closest family members who endure the harshest consequences of an extraverted formula, being the first recipients of its rigorous application. However, it is the individual themselves who ultimately bears the greatest burden, leading us to explore further the psychological nuances of this type.

Since feelings are often the first to resist and contradict the strict intellectual formula, they are the first to be affected by this conscious inhibition, and consequently, they bear the brunt of the repression. No function can be entirely suppressed; it can only be significantly distorted. To the extent that feelings can be manipulated and made subordinate, they must support the intellectual, conscious attitude and conform to its objectives. However, this is only feasible to a certain degree; a portion of the emotional response remains defiant and thus must be repressed. If the repression is successful, it vanishes from consciousness and begins to engage in subconscious activity that contradicts conscious goals, sometimes resulting in effects that are utterly baffling to the individual. For instance, a consciously altruistic behavior of a very high order may be undermined by a hidden self-interest, of which the individual is completely unaware, casting what are essentially selfless actions in a selfish light. Ethical objectives may lead the individual into problematic situations that seem to be influenced by motives far removed from the ethical.

There are instances of moral guardians or voluntary saviors who suddenly find themselves in compromising positions or in desperate need of rescue themselves. Their determination to save often prompts them to use methods that only exacerbate the very issues they wish to avert. There are extraverted idealists whose zeal for human salvation is so intense that they resort to deceitful and dishonest tactics in pursuit of their ideal. History records a few distressing instances in science where highly respected researchers, deeply convinced of the truth and universal applicability of their theories, have resorted to fabricating evidence to support their ideals. This is justified by the formula; the end justifies the means. Only a deficient feeling function, operating subtly and unconsciously, could lead to such deviations in otherwise honorable individuals.

The deficiency of the feeling function in this type is also evident in other respects. As it aligns with the dominant positive formula, the conscious attitude becomes increasingly impersonal, often to the extent that significant harm is done to personal interests. When the conscious attitude is extreme, personal considerations, including those related to the individual’s well-being, are ignored. Health is neglected, social standing declines, and the vital interests of one’s family are compromised—morally, financially, and even physically—all sacrificed at the altar of the ideal.

Consequently, personal empathy for others is diminished, unless they too are devoted to the same formula. It’s not uncommon for such a person’s immediate family, even their own children, to perceive them as nothing more than a harsh tyrant, while the outside world lauds their humanitarian efforts. The highly impersonal nature of the conscious attitude inversely results in the unconscious feelings being intensely personal and hypersensitive, leading to secret biases. For example, any objective disagreement with the formula might be misconstrued as personal malice, or there may be a predisposition to negatively judge others’ qualities to preemptively dismiss their arguments—a defense mechanism for one’s own sensitivities.

Consequently, expressions and tones often become sharp, aggressive, and insinuations abound. The feelings are delayed and awkward, indicative of the inferior function, fostering a strong propensity for resentment. Regardless of how generous the sacrifice to the intellectual goal may be, the feelings are correspondingly petty, distrustful, irritable, and resistant to change. Anything new not encompassed by the formula is viewed through a lens of skepticism and judged harshly. A notable incident from the mid-nineteenth century involved a renowned physician who threatened to fire an assistant for using a thermometer, as the prevailing formula dictated that fever should be assessed by the pulse alone—just one among many similar anecdotes.

If the formula incorporates tolerance for those who are sick, suffering, or mentally disturbed, specific arrangements for the creation of humane societies, hospitals, prisons, and colonies will be devised, or at the very least, comprehensive plans for such projects will be proposed. Nonetheless, the practical realization of these plans often surpasses the principles of justice and truth, depending instead on genuine Christian charity, which leans more on emotion than on any intellectual imperative like ‘One really should’ or ‘One must.’

If the formula is adequately inclusive, it can play a constructive role in society, acting as a catalyst for reform, highlighting public injustices, purifying the public conscience, or promoting significant innovations. However, the more rigid the formula becomes, the individual is more likely to evolve into a complainer, a sly debater, and a self-righteous critic, intent on conforming both themselves and others to a singular framework.

We have thus outlined two extreme prototypes, with the majority of individuals of this type positioned somewhere between these extremes.

According to the extraverted attitude’s nature, the impact and endeavors of such personalities become progressively more beneficial and positive the further they radiate from their epicenter. Their most advantageous influence is witnessed at the edges of their influence sphere. The deeper we penetrate into their realm, the more apparent the detrimental consequences of their rule become. At the periphery, where the formula’s relevance is acknowledged as a commendable addition, life flourishes.

However, moving deeper into the area where the formula is strictly enforced, we observe a decline in vitality around all aspects that do not conform to its directives. Often, it is those closest to the individual, like family members, who experience the most severe repercussions of an extraverted formula, being the primary subjects of its stringent enforcement. Yet, most profoundly, it is the individual themselves who endures the greatest hardship, prompting a deeper examination of the psychological intricacies of this type.

Thinking, which may otherwise be entirely unobjectionable, becomes subtly and detrimentally affected as feelings are increasingly repressed. An intellectual stance that could, perhaps due to its inherent merit, justly demand widespread acknowledgment, experiences a notable change under the sway of this unconscious personal sensitivity; it turns rigidly dogmatic. The urge for personal vindication is projected onto the intellectual belief. Truth is no longer allowed to manifest her natural impact but is defended as one might a cherished individual unjustly maligned by a spiteful critic. Efforts are made to discredit the critic, employing personal attacks if necessary, and no argument is considered too unsophisticated to be leveled against him. The objective seems to shift from advocating for truth to defending its supposed originator.

Moreover, the dogmatism that characterizes the intellectual outlook occasionally undergoes further peculiar adjustments due to the subconscious mingling of unconscious personal emotions; these shifts pertain less to feelings, in the strictest sense, and more to the intermingling with other unconscious elements that combine with the suppressed emotions in the unconscious. Despite logical evidence showing that every intellectual concept can only represent a segment of the truth, thus never warranting dictatorial dominance, the formula often achieves such preeminence that all alternative perspectives and possibilities fade into insignificance. It eclipses broader, less explicit, thus humbler and more accurate, life views. It even usurps the role of the comprehensive worldview we term religion, thereby transforming the formula into a form of religion, albeit lacking any substantial link to the religious per se.

Consequently, it acquires the quintessentially religious attribute of absoluteness, turning into a kind of intellectual superstition. However, all psychological inclinations repressed by this dominance coalesce in the unconscious, forming a counterbalance that provokes episodes of doubt. To combat this doubt, the conscious attitude may become fanatical, as fanaticism is essentially overcompensated doubt. This path leads to an intensified defense of the conscious standpoint and the gradual emergence of a completely contrary unconscious stance; for instance, an extreme irrationality might develop in reaction to the conscious rationalism, or a profound archaism and superstition could arise in contrast to a consciousness steeped in modern science.

This stark opposition becomes the wellspring of those narrow-minded and absurd notions, well-documented by historians of science, into which many commendable trailblazers have regrettably stumbled. In such a man, it is not unusual for the unconscious side to be personified in a woman.

In my observations, this type, likely familiar to my readers, predominantly occurs in men, as thinking tends to be a more dominant function in men than in women. Typically, when thinking assumes dominance in women, it is a result of a primarily intuitive activity of the mind.

The thinking of the extraverted type is productive; it either uncovers new facts or synthesizes general concepts from varied experimental data. Its judgments are usually synthetic. Even in analysis, this type of thinking is constructive, always moving beyond analysis to new combinations, further conceptions that reassemble the analyzed material in novel ways or augment the existing material. Thus, this kind of judgment can be described as predicative. It is characteristic of this thinking not to be wholly negative or destructive but to always introduce a new value for what has been critiqued.

This trait stems from the fact that thinking is the primary conduit for the energy of a thinking-type individual. The progressive, creative nature of his ideas reflects life’s forward movement, ensuring that his thoughts neither stagnate nor regress. Such attributes only attach to thinking that does not take precedence in consciousness, rendering it secondary and without the character of positive vital activity. It becomes retrospective, marked by an ‘afterthought’ quality, preoccupied with reflecting on and digesting past experiences rather than advancing. Where another function houses the creative element, thinking ceases to progress; it becomes static. Its judgment adopts a distinct inherency-character, strictly confined to the scope of the given material, without exceeding it. It is satisfied with an abstract articulation, adding no new value to the experimental material beyond what was already apparent.

The objective orientation of such extraverted thinking means its conclusions always highlight the objective significance of experience. Therefore, it not only remains guided by objective data but is essentially tethered to the realm of individual experience, asserting nothing beyond what is already presented by the experience itself. This type of thinking is evident in those who append to an impression or experience a rational and undoubtedly valid remark, which, however, does not venture beyond the experience’s immediate context. Essentially, such comments merely convey ‘I have understood it—I can reconstruct it,’ but the process ends there. At its peak, such judgment merely places an experience within an objective framework, instantly identifying the experience as part of that framework.

Whenever a function other than thinking takes precedence in consciousness to a significant extent, to the degree that thinking remains conscious and not directly influenced by the dominant function, it adopts a negative character. If subordinated to the dominant function, it might superficially seem positive, but closer examination reveals it merely echoes the dominant function, bolstering it with arguments that clearly flout the logical principles intrinsic to thinking. Such thinking, therefore, becomes irrelevant to our current examination. Our interest lies in the nature of thinking that resists subordination to another function and adheres to its own principles. Observing and investigating this form of thinking in its pure state is challenging, as it is frequently suppressed by the conscious attitude in practical situations.

Thus, it often needs to be coaxed from the background of consciousness, unless it inadvertently surfaces during a moment of inattention. Usually, it can be drawn out by asking questions like, “Now, what do you really think?” or “What’s your personal take on the matter?” Sometimes, subtlety is required, as in asking, “What do you suppose I really think about it?” The latter approach is useful when the genuine thinking is unconscious and thus projected. The thinking that emerges in this manner exhibits distinct characteristics; it is this negative quality I referred to earlier. Its typical expression can be summarized by the phrase “nothing but.”

Goethe epitomized this form of thinking in the character of Mephistopheles. It displays a pronounced tendency to reduce the object of its judgment to triviality, thereby denying it any intrinsic value. This reduction happens because the subject is depicted as contingent on some other, more mundane element. In situations where an apparently significant conflict arises between two individuals, this negative thinking might suggest, “Look for the woman behind it.” When someone supports a cause, it does not consider the cause’s merit but instead questions, “What’s in it for him?” The statement attributed to Moleschott, “Man is what he eats,” also falls into this category, along with numerous other aphorisms and viewpoints that need not be detailed further.

The destructive nature of this thinking, along with its occasional and limited utility, is evident and requires little additional explanation. Yet, there exists another variant of negative thinking that might not immediately be recognized as such. I am referring to theosophical thinking, which is swiftly gaining popularity globally, likely as a counter-reaction to the receding era of materialism. Theosophical thought appears far from reductive, as it elevates everything into transcendental and globally encompassing ideas.

For example, a dream is no longer just a simple dream but an experience on ‘another plane.’ The previously unexplained phenomenon of telepathy is conveniently explained by ‘vibrations’ transmitted between individuals. An ordinary nervous issue is attributed to an encounter with the astral body. Anthropological traits of individuals living along the Atlantic coast are effortlessly explained by the submersion of Atlantis, and so on. Opening a theosophical text, one is struck by the notion that all life’s mysteries have been resolved, with ‘spiritual science’ having unraveled every enigma.

However, fundamentally, this type of thinking is as negative as materialistic thinking. When the latter views psychology as chemical reactions in cell ganglia, cell processes’ protrusion and retraction, or as an internal secretion, it is essentially as superstitious as theosophy. The primary difference is that materialism reduces phenomena to contemporary physiological concepts, whereas theosophy aligns everything with Indian metaphysics.

Explaining a dream as the result of an overburdened stomach does not truly elucidate the dream, and describing telepathy as ‘vibrations’ says very little. What, after all, are ‘vibrations’? Both explanations are not only ineffective but also destructive, as they insert supposed clarifications that shift focus away from the actual issue—towards the stomach in one case, and towards hypothetical vibrations in the other, thereby deterring any meaningful investigation. Both modes of thought are sterile and stifling. Their negativity lies in their superficiality; they represent a profound lack of productive and creative energy, indicative of thinking that is overshadowed by other functions.

3. Feeling

Feeling, when oriented by the extraverted attitude, is influenced by objective data; the object serves as the essential determinant of the feeling’s nature. It aligns with objective values. If one has always perceived feeling as a subjective experience, the concept of extraverted feeling may initially be challenging to grasp, as it endeavors to detach itself as much as possible from the subjective element, instead becoming fully aligned with the influence of the object. Even when it appears somewhat independent of the concrete object’s quality, it remains under the influence of traditional or universally accepted standards. For example, one might describe a picture as “beautiful” or “good” not because of a personal, subjective feeling but because it is deemed appropriate or because such an opinion maintains harmony within the general emotional context. Such a feeling-judgment is not deceitful; it’s an act of adaptation.

Like extraverted thinking, which aims to eliminate subjective biases, extraverted feeling must also undergo a differentiation process to strip away any subjective nuances. The resulting evaluations either match objective values directly or resonate with established and widely recognized standards. This form of feeling significantly contributes to widespread participation in communal activities like theater, concerts, or church attendance, with appropriately attuned positive emotions. It also underpins the popularity of fashions and the support for social and cultural initiatives, playing a creative role in fostering a beautiful and harmonious sociability. As beneficial and effective as extraverted thinking in certain aspects, extraverted feeling’s positive impact diminishes when the object’s influence becomes overly pronounced. In such cases, the personality becomes too absorbed in the object, and the feeling loses its personal charm, becoming impersonal, detached, and potentially mistrusted by an observer. It may fulfill aesthetic expectations but fails to resonate on a deeper emotional level, becoming ineffective beyond surface-level appreciation.

If this detachment continues, a complex dissociation of feeling can occur, with feelings being attributed haphazardly to various incompatible objects. Such distortions suggest the absence of a strong subjective presence, leading to a situation where the individual seems consumed by the feeling processes, making it appear as if there’s no feeling subject but merely a mechanistic feeling reaction. In this state, feeling loses its inherent human warmth, coming across as affected, fickle, and in the most severe cases, markedly hysterical.

4. The Extraverted Feeling-Type

Feeling, undoubtedly a more prominent trait of feminine psychology than thinking, leads to the most distinct feeling-types being observed among women. When extraverted feeling takes precedence, we refer to this as the extraverted feeling-type, which, from my observations, are almost exclusively women. She is a woman guided by her feelings, which, through education, have evolved into a refined function under conscious control. Except in rare instances, her feelings retain a personal aspect, even though the subjective component might be significantly subdued. Her personality seems attuned to objective conditions, with her emotions aligning with objective situations and widely accepted values.

This alignment is particularly evident in what is termed the ‘love-choice’; she loves the ‘suitable’ man, not any other. His suitability is not necessarily because he matches her fundamental nature—often, she may not fully understand this aspect—but because he fits meticulously with every rational criterion regarding status, age, abilities, physical stature, and familial reputation. Although such a portrayal could be misconstrued as ironic or disparaging, I am convinced that the love feeling of this type of woman genuinely matches her choice. It is authentic, not a product of rational fabrication. Numerous such ‘sensible’ marriages exist and are far from being the least successful. These women are reliable partners and outstanding mothers, as long as their husbands and children conform to traditional psychological norms.

Correct feeling is possible only when it is unimpeded by other influences, with thinking being the most significant disruptor. Hence, it’s understandable that this type tends to suppress thinking as much as possible. This does not imply that such a woman is incapable of thought; she may engage in considerable and competent thinking, but it is never autonomous, always secondary to her feelings. What she cannot feel, she cannot consciously think. “But I can’t think what I don’t feel,” a woman of this type once protested to me. Within the bounds of her feelings, she can think quite effectively, but any logical conclusion that might unsettle her emotional state is instinctively dismissed. It is simply not considered. Thus, everything in line with objective evaluations is embraced: such things are loved and valued; everything else seems to inhabit a separate realm.

However, the scenario shifts when the object’s significance escalates further. As mentioned earlier, such an assimilation of the subject to the object can occur, nearly completely engulfing the feeling subject. Feeling then loses its personal nature—it becomes feeling in itself; it almost seems as if the personality dissolves into the feeling of the moment. Given that life situations constantly and successively change, releasing feelings that not only differ but often contrast with each other, the personality seems to fragment into various feelings. One moment the individual appears as one thing, and the next, something entirely different—apparently, because such a multifaceted personality is, in fact, impossible.

The core of the ego remains consistent with itself, thus standing in clear contrast to the fluctuating states of feeling. Consequently, the observer perceives the emotional display not so much as a personal expression of the feeling subject but more as a change in his ego, or a mood. The more pronounced the dissociation between the ego and the current state of feeling, the more apparent the signs of self-alienation become, meaning the unconscious’s compensatory stance shifts to an overt opposition. This is initially evident in exaggerated displays of feeling and loud, intrusive expressions of emotion that, paradoxically, evoke skepticism. They lack authenticity; they fail to persuade.

Instead, they hint at an overcompensated resistance, leading one to suspect that the feeling judgment could just as easily have been the opposite. Indeed, it often changes to the opposite with only a minor shift in the situation. Such experiences lead the observer to doubt the sincerity of either judgment, prompting him to withhold his opinion. Yet, for this type, establishing a strong emotional connection with the environment is crucial, necessitating even greater efforts to overcome this skepticism. Consequently, like a vicious circle, the situation deteriorates further. The more the emotional connection with the object is emphasized, the closer the unconscious opposition comes to the surface.

We have noted that the extraverted feeling type typically represses his thinking, primarily because thinking is the function most likely to disrupt feeling. Similarly, when thinking aims to achieve unadulterated results, it first seeks to eliminate feeling, as nothing skews and compromises thinking quite like feeling-values. Thus, insofar as thinking operates as an independent function, it is repressed in the extraverted feeling type. This repression is total only when its relentless logic leads to conclusions that clash with feeling. It is allowed to exist only as a subordinate to feeling, or more precisely, as its servant. Its independence is curtailed; it cannot act freely according to its own principles. However, since a form of logic that produces irrefutably correct conclusions exists, this occurs outside conscious awareness, that is, in the unconscious. Therefore, the unconscious content of this type primarily consists of a specific kind of thinking: it is infantile, primitive, and negative.

As long as conscious feeling maintains a personal quality, or in other words, as long as the personality isn’t overwhelmed by fluctuating emotional states, this unconscious thinking acts as a compensatory mechanism. But once the personality becomes fragmented, scattered across conflicting emotional states, the ego’s identity dissipates, rendering the subject unconscious. Due to the subject’s descent into the unconscious, it merges with the unconscious thinking function, thereby aiding the unconscious thought in occasionally breaching consciousness. The more intense the conscious emotional connection and thus the more ‘depersonalized’ it becomes, the stronger the unconscious opposition grows. This is evident when unconscious ideas gravitate towards the most cherished objects, mercilessly divesting them of their value. The “nothing but” style of thinking finds its rightful place here, as it undermines the dominion of feeling bound to the object.

Unconscious thought surfaces as intrusive and often obsessive eruptions, predominantly negative and disparaging in nature. Women of this type experience moments when the most appalling thoughts besiege the objects they hold most dear. This negative thinking leverages every childhood bias or analogy capable of casting doubt on the emotional value and drags along every rudimentary instinct to interpret the feeling as “nothing but.” It might be a tangential observation that the collective unconscious—the entirety of primal images—gets similarly mobilized, and through the exploration and evolution of these images, the prospect of revitalizing the attitude on a new foundation emerges.


Hysteria, with its characteristic infantile sexuality within its unconscious realm of ideas, stands as the primary form of neurosis for this type.

5. Recapitulation of Extraverted Rational Types

I classify the two types discussed previously as rational or judging types due to their dominant reasoning and judging functions. A notable trait of both types is that their lives are largely governed by reasoned judgment. However, it’s important to distinguish whether by ‘reasoning’ we refer to the individual’s subjective psychological perspective or to that of an external observer assessing the individual. An observer might reach a contrary conclusion, especially if his understanding of the individual’s behavior is based purely on intuition.

The overall life of this type is not solely influenced by reasoned judgment; unconscious irrationality plays an almost equal role. If one focuses only on observable behavior, disregarding the individual’s internal consciousness, the irrational and seemingly arbitrary aspects of the unconscious in the individual’s actions may appear more pronounced than the rationality of his conscious intentions and motivations.

Therefore, my analysis is based on what the individual perceives as his conscious psychology, though I acknowledge that an entirely opposite perspective of this psychology is also possible. My depiction of the rational types could have been inverted, labeled as irrational from the standpoint of the unconscious, if my personal psychology had been different.

This situation significantly complicates clear psychological presentation and greatly increases the risk of misunderstandings. Discussions stemming from these misunderstandings tend to be futile, as the core issue is never addressed, with each party essentially speaking a different language. This justifies my decision to base my presentation on the individual’s subjective conscious psychology, where at least there’s a solid foundation.

This foundation disappears when attempting to establish psychological principles based on the unconscious, as the observed cannot contribute to understanding his own unconscious. The judgment then relies solely on the observer, ensuring it reflects the observer’s personal psychology, which might inadvertently be projected onto the observed. This, to me, occurs in the psychologies of both Freud and Adler, where the individual is left at the discretion of the observer’s critique—a situation avoided when the conscious psychology of the observed is the foundation. After all, he is the most qualified to comment, as he alone is fully aware of his motives.

The reasonableness that marks the conscious approach to life in both types entails a deliberate disregard for the accidental and irrational. Judgment, within such a psychological framework, acts as a force that shapes the chaotic and random aspects of life into defined forms, aiming to bring order. Consequently, there is a selective process among life’s possibilities, as only rational options are consciously acknowledged.

However, this also means that the autonomy and impact of those psychic functions that perceive life’s events are notably limited. This restriction on sensation and intuition isn’t total—these functions persist universally—but their outputs are vetted by the discerning judgment. It isn’t the sheer intensity of sensation, for example, that influences decision-making, but rather judgment. Thus, to a certain extent, the perceptive functions endure a similar situation to feeling in the first type or thinking in the second: they are relatively suppressed, leading to a lesser degree of differentiation.

This aspect distinctly characterizes the unconscious of both types; their conscious actions and intentions align with reason (their understanding of it), but what occurs to them is often tied to infantile, primitive sensations, or equally ancient intuitions, which will be further clarified in subsequent sections. What befalls these individuals is irrational from their viewpoint. Given that many people’s lives are more about what happens to them than actions based on deliberate reasoning, an observer, after a thorough analysis, might label both types as irrational. However, it’s essential to acknowledge that an individual’s unconscious can sometimes exert a more significant influence than their conscious rationale, and their behaviors may carry more weight and meaning than their reasoned intentions.

The rationality of both types is objectively oriented, shaped by objective data. Their sense of reasonableness aligns with the collective notion of what is deemed reasonable. They consider something rational only if it is widely regarded as such. Yet, reason is also deeply subjective and personal. This aspect is suppressed in these types, increasingly so as the importance of the object is elevated. Both the subject and subjective reasoning are at risk of repression, succumbing to the unconscious’s influence, which can exhibit quite disagreeable traits. We’ve touched on its thinking, but there are also primitive sensations manifesting in compulsive behaviors, such as an excessive pursuit of pleasure in various forms; primitive intuitions, too, can become a source of distress for the individuals and those around them.

Unpleasant, painful, repugnant, and malevolent elements are either detected or suspected, often aligning only with partial truths, which are especially prone to fostering highly toxic misunderstandings. The strong presence of opposing unconscious contents often disrupts the rational governance of consciousness, leading to a marked susceptibility to chance. Accidental occurrences, whether through their sensational value or unconscious significance, can gain an undue influence.

6. Sensation

In the extraverted attitude, sensation is decidedly influenced by the object. As a form of sense-perception, sensation is inherently linked to the object. However, it is also subject to the subject, implying the existence of a subjective sensation distinct from its objective counterpart. In the extraverted stance, this subjective element of sensation is either inhibited or repressed when it comes to its conscious application. As an irrational function, sensation is also repressed whenever a rational function, such as thinking or feeling, takes precedence. Thus, sensation is consciously functional only to the extent that the rational orientation of consciousness allows accidental perceptions to be realized as conscious contents.

Sensation’s role is absolute in a stricter sense; for example, all possible physiological perceptions, such as sights and sounds, are registered, but not all reach the perceptual threshold required for apperception. The dynamics change when sensation itself is prioritized over merely supporting another function. In such instances, no aspect of objective sensation is overlooked or repressed (aside from the subjective component mentioned earlier).

Sensation is primarily driven by objective stimuli, with the most intense sensations determining the individual’s psychological orientation. This leads to a strong sensory connection to the object, making sensation a vital function powered by a strong life instinct. Objects matter to the extent they evoke sensations and are accepted into consciousness regardless of their compatibility with reasoned judgment. The intensity of sensation, as influenced by its objective properties, is its only criterion of value. Therefore, all objective processes that evoke sensations are recognized in consciousness.

However, in the extraverted attitude, only concrete, sensuously perceived objects or processes trigger sensations; specifically, those universally recognized as concrete across all times and places. Hence, the orientation of such individuals aligns with tangible reality. The judging, rational functions are secondary to the factual basis of sensation and thus exhibit characteristics of lesser differentiation, including a certain negativity, with tendencies towards infantile and archaic modes. The function most suppressed by this prioritization of sensation is intuition, the faculty of unconscious perception.

7. The Extraverted Sensation Type

No other human type surpasses the extraverted sensation-type in realism. His ability to recognize objective facts is exceptionally well-developed. His life consists of a series of encounters with concrete objects, and the more pronounced his type, the less he tends to utilize his experiences. In some instances, the events in his life scarcely qualify as ‘experiences.’ He finds no better application for this sensed ‘experience’ than to use it as a basis for seeking new sensations; any novelty within his sphere of interest is immediately leveraged for its sensational value to serve this purpose. To the extent that one considers a highly refined awareness of sheer actuality as reasonable, such individuals may be deemed rational. However, in reality, this is not the case, as they are as susceptible to the sensations prompted by irrational, random events as they are to rational actions.

Such a type—predominantly men, it appears—does not perceive himself as being ‘subject’ to sensation. He is more likely to dismiss this notion as unsubstantiated, viewing sensation, from his perspective, as the tangible expression of life—it represents the fullness of actual living. His goal is concrete enjoyment, and his ethical principles align accordingly. True enjoyment possesses its own morality, characterized by moderation, legality, unselfishness, and devotion. It doesn’t necessarily imply that he is merely sensual or crude, as he can refine his sensation to the utmost degree of aesthetic purity without straying from his principle of objective sensation. Wulfen’s “Cicerone des rücksichtlosen Lebensgenusses” (Guide to Reckless Enjoyment) is a candid revelation from a representative of this type. From this viewpoint, the book is, to me, worth reading.

On the more basic levels, this individual embodies tangible reality, showing little inclination towards reflection or overarching ambitions. Sensing the object, possessing, and if possible, enjoying sensations, motivates him continually. He is often endearing; he can possess a delightful and vivacious ability to enjoy life; sometimes he is the life of the party, and often, a refined aesthete.

In the former scenario, life’s great dilemmas pivot on the quality of a meal; in the latter, they concern matters of taste. Once he ‘senses,’ everything significant is both said and done. Nothing surpasses the tangible and actual; speculations extending beyond the concrete are only entertained if they intensify sensation. This does not necessarily imply a quest for pleasure, as this type seeks the most intense sensation, which he inherently receives from external sources. Internal origins seem unhealthy and unwelcome to him. In his thought and feeling processes, he invariably traces back to objective foundations—external influences—unbothered by any logical inconsistencies. The reality he can touch and see reassures him profoundly, displaying an unexpected gullibility in such matters. He might attribute a clear psychogenic symptom to a change in weather, while dismissing the possibility of a psychological conflict as a bizarre anomaly. His love is undeniably anchored in the object’s apparent allure. As long as he is normal, his alignment with tangible reality is evident—both because it is his ideal and because this alignment is always observable. He lacks ideational ideals, hence bears no intrinsic opposition to the reality of things and circumstances. This manifests in all aspects of his life, from his attire, suited to his means, to his hospitality, ensuring comfort or at least showcasing his discerning taste, often suggesting certain sacrifices for the sake of style are entirely justified.

However, as sensation increasingly overshadows the sensing subject, this type becomes less satisfactory. He may devolve into a base hedonist or an unscrupulous voluptuary. Though utterly reliant on the object, he simultaneously devalues it as its existence merely serves to provoke sensation. His engagement with the object intensifies to its extreme. Consequently, the unconscious shifts from its compensatory role to outright opposition. Notably, repressed intuitions emerge as projections onto the object, leading to bizarre assumptions and, in the context of a romantic interest, jealousy and anxiety. More severe instances exhibit phobias and compulsions. These pathological elements often carry an air of unreality, sometimes adopting moral or religious undertones. A tendency towards petty nitpicking, an excessively meticulous morality, or a regression to primitive, superstitious religiosity may develop, reminiscent of arcane rituals. These traits stem from the repressed inferior functions, which starkly contrast the conscious outlook, especially given their foundation on seemingly irrational premises versus the conscious reality orientation. In this ‘second personality,’ the entire intellectual and emotional culture appears regressed and pathological: logic becomes pedantic quibbling, morality turns into tedious sermonizing, religion reverts to baseless superstition, and intuition, rather than expanding perception, narrows down to petty scrutiny.

The particularly compulsive nature of the neurotic symptoms acts as an unconscious counterbalance to the laissez-faire morality characteristic of a purely sensational attitude, which indiscriminately accepts everything that occurs from the standpoint of rational judgment. While this absence of fundamental principles in the sensation-type does not imply a total disregard for laws and restraint, it certainly strips him of the crucial restraining influence of judgment. Rational judgment acts as a conscious constraint that the rational type seems to willingly impose upon himself. This compulsion befalls the sensation-type from the unconscious. Furthermore, the connection of the rational type to the object, due to the very presence of judgment, does not result in such an unconditional relationship as that which the sensation-type maintains with the object. When his attitude becomes abnormally one-sided, he risks becoming as deeply engulfed in the unconscious as he consciously adheres to the object. When he turns neurotic, addressing his condition through rational means is significantly more challenging because the functions that the physician might rely on are in a relatively undifferentiated state; thus, they are hardly reliable. Often, specific strategies to apply emotional pressure are required to make him conscious at all.

8. Intuition

Intuition, as the function of unconscious perception, is entirely focused on external objects in the extraverted attitude. Since intuition primarily operates unconsciously, comprehending its nature consciously is challenging. In awareness, the intuitive function manifests as an attitude of anticipation, a discerning and insightful vision, where only the outcomes can confirm the extent of insight and how much was intrinsic to the object.

Similar to sensation, when prioritized, intuition is not merely a passive perceptual process but an active, creative force that both extracts from and contributes to the object. This process draws perceptions unconsciously, thereby also exerting an unconscious influence on the object. The fundamental role of intuition is to convey images or perceptions of relations and conditions, which other functions might not capture or would do so less directly. These images are akin to clear insights and significantly impact decisions when intuition dominates, leading to psychic adaptation largely based on intuition. Thinking, feeling, and sensation are comparatively subdued, with sensation being most affected due to its potential to disrupt the intuitive process with immediate sensory stimuli. These stimuli focus attention on physical details, which intuition seeks to transcend.

However, given its objective orientation in the extraverted attitude, intuition closely approaches sensation; the anticipatory stance toward external objects could rely on sensation almost as likely. Thus, for intuition to truly dominate, sensation needs to be significantly minimized. This discussion pertains to sensation as the straightforward sense-reaction, a tangible physiological and psychic fact, which needs clarification because when asked about his orientation, an intuitive person might describe experiences similar to sensory perceptions, sometimes even using the term ‘sensation.’

He does experience sensations, but these do not guide him directly; instead, they serve as markers for his broader vision, chosen by unconscious anticipation. Not the most intense sensation in the physiological sense is most critical, but any sensation whose significance is amplified by the intuitive’s unconscious stance might take precedence, appearing to the intuitive’s consciousness as indistinguishable from a pure sensation, although it is not.

Just as extraverted sensation seeks the highest level of actuality, for only in this way can it simulate a complete life, intuition aims to embrace the broadest range of possibilities, as its fulfillment lies in the recognition of potentialities. Intuition looks to unearth possibilities within the objective situation; thus, as a secondary function (i.e., when it does not take precedence), it becomes the tool that, in seemingly insurmountable circumstances, instinctively finds a way out that would elude any other function. Where intuition leads, every typical life scenario resembles a locked room that intuition must unlock. It is perpetually in search of exits and new opportunities in the external world. For the intuitive, any current situation quickly feels like a confinement; it becomes a burden, like a shackle, driving an urgent need for resolution. Sometimes, objects might seem to hold an exaggerated significance if they symbolize an idea of escape or freedom that could lead to uncovering a new possibility. However, once they have served their purpose in aiding intuition—acting as a stepping stone or bridge—they are deemed valueless and shed as cumbersome excess. A fact is recognized only to the extent that it paves the way for further exploration, freeing the individual from its constraints. The emergence of new possibilities becomes an irresistible force that intuition cannot ignore, demanding that all else be forsaken in its pursuit.

9. The Extraverted Intuitive Type

Whenever intuition dominates, a distinct and recognizable psychology emerges. Intuition, oriented by the object, creates a noticeable dependency on external situations, yet this dependency differs significantly from that of the sensation type. The intuitive person is not found among commonly accepted realities but is always at the forefront of emerging possibilities. He has an acute sense for nascent opportunities rich with future potential. He struggles in stable, well-established environments of limited, though recognized, value; such conditions feel suffocating because his gaze is always set on discovering new possibilities.

The intuitive individual embraces new objects and paths with enthusiastic intensity, sometimes with remarkable zeal, only to abandon them without sentiment or memory once their potential is fully mapped and no longer harbors promise for substantial future growth. While a possibility exists, the intuitive feels inextricably tied to it, as if his entire being is invested in this new venture. It often appears, even to himself, that he has reached a pivotal moment in his life, beyond which nothing else can capture his interest or passion.

Regardless of how logical or timely it might be to maintain stability, and despite all arguments favoring consistency, there inevitably comes a time when the very situation that once seemed liberating now feels like a cage, prompting him to act on this perception. Neither rational thought nor emotional consideration can deter him from pursuing a new possibility, even if it contradicts previously unchallenged beliefs. Thinking and feeling, crucial for forming convictions, are subordinate functions for him, lacking the influence to counterbalance the pull of intuition effectively.

Yet, these functions are precisely what could provide the balance the intuitive type lacks, offering the judgment needed. The intuitive’s morality is not dictated by intellect or emotion; he follows a unique moral code centered on fidelity to his intuitive insights and their inherent authority. Concern for others’ welfare is not a priority. His well-being and that of those around him do not weigh heavily on his decisions, nor does he hold much regard for others’ beliefs and customs, often leading to perceptions of him as an immoral or unscrupulous adventurer. Since his intuition frequently focuses on external opportunities, he is drawn to professions allowing for the exploration of diverse potentials. Merchants, contractors, speculators, agents, and politicians are typically found within this type.

This type seems to be more commonly found in women than in men; however, in such cases, the intuitive activity tends to manifest not so much professionally as socially. These women excel at capitalizing on every social opportunity; they forge the right social connections and seek out lovers with potential, only to leave everything behind for the allure of a new possibility.

From both an economic and cultural perspective, this type holds significant importance. If motivated by benevolent intentions and not solely by self-interest, he can provide exceptional contributions as the promoter, or even the initiator, of various promising ventures. He stands as a natural advocate for any minority that embodies the potential for future growth. Thanks to his ability to intuitively assess people’s capabilities and potential contributions, when his orientation leans more towards people than objects, he has the unique ability to ‘create’ leaders and influencers. His talent for instilling courage in others or igniting enthusiasm for novel ideas is unparalleled, even if his own commitment might wane by the next day. The strength and clarity of his intuition mean that he often becomes deeply intertwined with the possibilities he perceives. He not only conceptualizes them but brings them to life with persuasive passion and tangible representation, almost embodying the envisioned potential. This isn’t just a performance; it’s his destiny.

This type seems to be more commonly found in women than in men; however, in such cases, the intuitive activity tends to manifest not so much professionally as socially. These women excel at capitalizing on every social opportunity; they forge the right social connections and seek out lovers with potential, only to leave everything behind for the allure of a new possibility.

From both an economic and cultural perspective, this type holds significant importance. If motivated by benevolent intentions and not solely by self-interest, he can provide exceptional contributions as the promoter, or even the initiator, of various promising ventures. He stands as a natural advocate for any minority that embodies the potential for future growth. Thanks to his ability to intuitively assess people’s capabilities and potential contributions, when his orientation leans more towards people than objects, he has the unique ability to ‘create’ leaders and influencers. His talent for instilling courage in others or igniting enthusiasm for novel ideas is unparalleled, even if his own commitment might wane by the next day. The strength and clarity of his intuition mean that he often becomes deeply intertwined with the possibilities he perceives. He not only conceptualizes them but brings them to life with persuasive passion and tangible representation, almost embodying the envisioned potential. This isn’t just a performance; it’s his destiny.

This stance harbors significant risks—the intuitive might easily dissipate his life. He dedicates himself to enlivening people and objects, radiating a vitality that others experience, not him. If he could find contentment in tangible achievements, he would reap the benefits of his efforts; yet, he is perpetually drawn to new prospects, abandoning his endeavors for others to harvest, leaving him ultimately unfulfilled. When the intuitive reaches this extreme, he faces opposition from his unconscious, which bears similarities to that of the sensation-type. With thinking and feeling relatively subdued, the unconscious generates primitive and outdated thoughts and feelings akin to those of its counterpart. These also emerge as intense projections, absurd yet seemingly devoid of the mystical quality found in the sensation-type, focusing instead on quasi-real concerns like sexual, financial risks, or fears of impending illness, likely due to a suppression of actual sensory experiences.

This difference might stem from a neglect of real-world sensations, often resulting in entanglement with highly unsuitable partners, a consequence of unwittingly engaging with archaic sensory experiences. This leads to a compelling yet ultimately futile connection with an object. Such scenarios exemplify compulsive symptoms characteristic of this type. Similar to the sensation-type, he seeks a comparable level of autonomy and liberation from constraints, eschewing rational judgment in favor of perceiving fleeting opportunities.

Escaping the limitations of reason, he becomes ensnared by unconscious neurotic compulsions manifested as overly intricate, negative thought processes, pedantic arguments, and an obsessive fixation on the sensory appeal of objects. His conscious demeanor toward both sensation and the sensed object is one of apparent superiority and indifference—not out of insensitivity or arrogance but because he perceives something beyond what is visible to others, mirroring the sensation-type’s oversight but missing the object’s essence. The object eventually retaliates for this neglect with a vengeance of hypochondriacal fears, phobias, and an array of bizarre physical sensations.

10. Recapitulation of Extraverted Irrational Types

I designate the two previously discussed types as irrational, for reasons mentioned earlier: their actions and inactions stem not from reasoned judgment but from the sheer intensity of their perception. Their perception focuses on straightforward events, unaffected by the discerning influence of judgment. In this aspect, both these types exhibit a significant advantage over the judging types.

The occurrences they perceive are both governed by laws and random. To the extent an event is law-governed, it is understandable to reason; where it seems random, it eludes rational comprehension. Alternatively, one could argue that we deem an occurrence law-governed when it appears so to our rational minds, and label it random when its regularity is not discernible to us. The assumption that a universal law underpins everything remains a hypothesis of reason alone and is not a prerequisite for our perceptive faculties. Given that these faculties do not rely on the principle of reason or its hypotheses, they are inherently irrational.

Therefore, my use of ‘irrational’ aligns with the nature of the perception-types. However, just because they prioritize perception over judgment does not mean these types lack reason. They are highly empirical, grounded so thoroughly in experience that often their judgment lags behind their perceptual insights. Yet, judgment functions are still present, albeit leading a predominantly unconscious existence.

Despite their separation from conscious awareness, the unconscious continually influences their behavior, resulting in notable judgments and choices that manifest as seemingly illogical arguments, detached criticisms, and seemingly deliberate selections of people and situations. These aspects sometimes appear naive, primitive, or even thoughtlessly harsh. To a mind oriented towards rationality, such individuals might seem overly pragmatic and intentional in a negative sense.

However, this assessment would only apply to their unconscious aspects, inaccurately representing their conscious psychology driven by perception and inherently difficult for rational judgment to comprehend. To a rational perspective, the accumulation of these seemingly random experiences might scarcely qualify as ‘psychology.’ The irrational type views the rational type with similar skepticism, perceiving him as somewhat lifeless, obsessed with imposing the constraints of reason on all aspects of life, including his own, to his detriment. These are, of course, extreme views, but they do occur.

From the perspective of the rational type, the irrational could be misinterpreted as possessing an inferior form of rationality, especially when evaluated based on what transpires in their lives. For the irrational type, the accidental does not dominate; instead, they find themselves unexpectedly governed by rational judgments and objectives. This scenario is often perplexing to the rational mind, yet its inconceivability is matched by the bewilderment of the irrational upon encountering someone who prioritizes the concepts of reason over the vibrancy and reality of actual events. To the irrational type, such a preference seems almost unfathomable. Generally, it’s futile to expect the irrational type to acknowledge or appreciate principles from a rational standpoint, as a rational understanding is as foreign and, frankly, as tedious to them as the notion of entering into a contract, with all its implied negotiations and commitments, is unimaginable to the rational type.

This discussion leads to the issue of the psychic connection between representatives of different types. Adopting the terminology from the French school of hypnotists, the term “rapport” is used among contemporary psychiatrists to describe the psychic connection. Rapport primarily involves a sense of genuine harmony, despite acknowledged differences. Indeed, recognizing these differences, as long as they are mutual, already establishes rapport—a sense of agreement. If we analyze this sense of harmony in a specific case to a significant extent, we find that it possesses not just the characteristic of an indefinable feeling but also resembles an insight or cognitive content, framing the point of agreement in a conceptual manner. This rational representation holds true specifically for rational types; it does not apply to the irrational, whose rapport is not founded on judgment but on the parallelism of actual life events. Their feeling of harmony stems from the shared experience of a sensation or intuition.

Rational individuals might argue that rapport with the irrational depends solely on coincidence. If objective situations align purely by chance, a semblance of human connection emerges, but its significance or longevity remains unpredictable. For the rational type, it can be disheartening to think that the relationship persists only as long as external circumstances fortuitously maintain mutual interest. This perspective does not seem particularly humane to them, while the irrational type may see in such circumstances a unique expression of humanity.

Consequently, each views the other as unreliable and difficult to genuinely connect with. Such conclusions are typically reached when one consciously attempts to assess the nature of their relationships with others. Although such psychological awareness is rare, instances occur where, despite stark differences in perspective, a sort of rapport does happen. One party, through unspoken projection, assumes the other shares his viewpoint, while the other perceives or senses an objective commonality of interest, of which the first is unaware and would deny. This form of rapport, based on projection, is quite common and often leads to misunderstandings later on.

In the extraverted attitude, psychic relationships are always influenced by objective factors and external determinants. An individual’s inner qualities seldom have critical importance. In today’s culture, the extraverted attitude predominantly shapes human relationships. Although the introverted principle is present, it remains the exception and must seek the era’s tolerance.

The Introverted Type

(I) THE GENERAL ATTITUDE OF CONSCIOUSNESS

As previously discussed in section A (1) of this chapter, the introverted type is distinguished from the extraverted type by being predominantly influenced by subjective factors, in contrast to the extraverted type’s orientation by the object and objective data. I provided an example where the introvert places a subjective view between the perception of an object and his own action, preventing the action from reflecting the objective situation accurately. This example was meant to serve as a straightforward illustration, but now we aim for broader generalizations.

Introverted consciousness observes external conditions but prioritizes subjective determinants as decisive. This type is guided by the aspect of perception and cognition that represents the subject’s inherent disposition to respond to sensory stimuli. For instance, two individuals may see the same object but perceive it differently, resulting in distinct subjective impressions beyond mere organic differences or personal biases. While the extraverted type leans heavily on input from the object, the introverted type relies more on what the external impression triggers within the subject. This difference may be subtle in individual instances of perception but becomes significantly pronounced across the broader psychological landscape, notably in how it reserves a space for the ego.

Although it’s somewhat anticipatory, I argue against the tendency to label this attitude with terms like philautic, autoerotic, egocentric, subjective, or egoistic, as they misconstrue the introvert’s nature and are unduly pejorative. Such labels reflect the extraverted bias against introversion. It’s crucial to remember—despite extraverted preferences to overlook this—that perception and cognition are not purely objective; they’re also subjectively shaped. Reality is experienced not just as it exists independently but as it appears to us. Fundamentally, we lack any means to judge a reality that is entirely alien to subjective assimilation.

Ignoring the subjective aspect equates to dismissing the profound doubt regarding the possibility of absolute cognition, leading back to the obsolete positivism that marred the early days of our era. This outdated stance, marked by intellectual arrogance and an insensitivity to life’s complexities, diminishes the significance of the subjective factor, essentially negating the subject. However, the subject is us; we embody the subject. Overlooking that cognition requires a subject overlooks that without the acknowledgment of ‘I know,’ there can be no knowledge for us, nor a world. This statement itself underscores the inherent subjective limit of all knowledge.

All psychic functions have a subject that is as indispensable as the object. In our current extraverted valuation, the term ‘subjective’ often carries a negative connotation, almost serving as a critique or flaw. Specifically, the label ‘merely subjective’ becomes a potent weapon against those who question the object’s absolute dominance. Therefore, it’s essential to clarify the term ‘subjective’ within this context. The subjective factor refers to the psychological action or reaction that, combined with the object’s effect, creates a new psychic reality.

Given that the subjective factor has remained largely consistent across times and cultures, with elementary perceptions and cognitions being almost universally similar, it constitutes a reality as concrete as the external object. Without this consistency, a stable reality and comprehension across generations would be impossible. Thus, the subjective factor stands as a fact, on par with measurable physical realities like the sea’s extent or the earth’s radius, holding the value of a world-determining power that cannot be omitted from any assessment.

However, just as objects and objective data are not always constant, being perishable and prone to change, the subjective factor also varies and is subject to individual risks, making its value relatively contingent. An overly developed introverted stance in consciousness doesn’t enhance the subjective factor’s application but leads to a forced subjectivity in consciousness. This can easily be criticized as ‘merely subjective’. Counteracting this, there might emerge an exaggerated extraverted attitude, accurately described by Weininger as “misautic”.

Since the introverted attitude is grounded on a universally present, vital, and non-negotiable psychological adaptation, terms like ‘philautic’, ‘egocentric’, and similar, are inappropriate and misleading. They perpetuate the misconception that self-interest is the primary concern, which is far from accurate. Yet, this misunderstanding frequently arises in extraverts’ assessments of introverts. This isn’t to blame individual extraverts but rather to highlight the prevalent extraverted viewpoint, which isn’t limited to the extraverted type alone but also found among introverts, albeit contrary to their best interests. Introverts who adopt this view betray their nature, a criticism that cannot be applied to extraverts.

The introverted attitude is primarily influenced by the psychological structure, which is theoretically hereditary but manifests as a constantly present subjective factor for the individual. However, this should not be confused with the individual’s ego, as some might infer from the terms used by Weininger. It is the psychological structure that exists before the ego’s development. The true foundational subject, the Self, encompasses much more than the ego since it also includes the unconscious, while the ego primarily serves as the center of consciousness. If the ego were synonymous with the Self, it would be inconceivable for us to appear in dreams in various forms and meanings. Yet, a common tendency among introverts, both naturally and due to prevailing attitudes, is to conflate the ego with the Self and elevate the ego as the primary agent in psychological processes. This leads to an unhealthy focus on the self in consciousness, distancing the individual from the object.

The term ‘mneme’ as used by Semon refers to what I call the ‘collective unconscious’. The individual Self represents a segment of a universally inherent quality in all living beings, thus reflecting a type of psychological process that emerges anew with each life. Historically, the inherent mode of action has been termed instinct. For the psychic perception of the object, I’ve introduced the concept of the archetype. Most are familiar with the concept of instinct. The archetype, however, requires further explanation. It encompasses what is also known as the ‘primordial image’, a term I adopted from Jakob Burckhardt and discussed in Chapter xi of this book. For a detailed understanding of ‘image’, I direct readers specifically to that chapter.

The archetype is a symbolic formula that activates whenever there are no conscious ideas available or when existing ones are unfeasible due to internal or external factors. The contents of the collective unconscious manifest in consciousness as strong inclinations or specific perspectives. These are often mistakenly attributed by the individual to external objects, but their origin lies in the unconscious psyche structure, merely triggered by external objects. These subjective inclinations and concepts overpower the objective influence because they possess greater psychic significance, overshadowing all external impressions.

Thus, just as the introvert finds it baffling that the external object could determine everything, the extravert cannot grasp how a subjective viewpoint could outweigh the objective situation, leading to the inevitable conclusion that the introvert must be a self-absorbed egoist or a detached theorist. Lately, there’s a notion that the introvert is driven by an unconscious power complex. The introvert does inadvertently feed into this stereotype, especially since his categorical and overly general way of expressing himself seems to dismiss alternative perspectives outright, giving some credence to the extravert’s perception. Additionally, the decisiveness and rigidity of the introvert’s subjective judgment, prioritized above all objective facts, further reinforces the image of pronounced egocentricity.

When faced with this prejudice, the introvert often lacks a counterargument, as he is just as oblivious to the unconscious yet valid foundations of his subjective judgment as he is to his subjective perceptions. Aligned with contemporary trends, he searches for answers outside rather than examining his own consciousness. If he becomes neurotic, it indicates a nearly complete identification of the ego with the Self, reducing the significance of the Self to nothing while inflating the ego excessively. The undeniable influence of the subjective factor then becomes concentrated in the ego, leading to an unreasonable sense of entitlement and extreme self-centeredness. Any psychological theory that reduces human nature to an unconscious drive for power is rooted in this scenario. For instance, Nietzsche’s lapses in judgment stem from this subjectification of consciousness.

(II) THE UNCONSCIOUS ATTITUDE

The dominance of the subjective factor in consciousness results in an undervaluing of the objective factor. The object does not receive the significance it truly deserves. As it is overly emphasized in the extraverted attitude, it is undervalued in the introverted attitude. As the consciousness of the introvert becomes more centered on the self, giving undue importance to the ego, the object is relegated to a status that eventually becomes untenable. The object possesses undeniable power, while the ego is much more limited and fleeting.

The situation would be markedly different if the Self, rather than the ego, were in opposition to the object. The Self and the world are comparable entities; thus, a balanced introverted attitude is as legitimate and viable as a balanced extraverted attitude. However, when the ego makes unwarranted claims on behalf of the subject, a compensatory development occurs in the unconscious, enhancing the influence of the object. This often leads to the object and objective data gaining an overwhelming influence, catching the individual off-guard and leading to an uncontrollable intrusion into consciousness.

Due to the ego’s flawed relationship with the object, a compensatory relationship with the object forms in the unconscious, manifesting in consciousness as an undeniable and overpowering connection to the object. The more the ego seeks freedom, independence, and dominance, the more it becomes ensnared by objective realities. The individual’s perceived autonomy is contradicted by financial dependencies, societal pressures, and the desire for acceptance, undermining attempts at superiority and control.

In such cases, the unconscious focuses on the relationship with the object, destroying any illusions of power and fantasies of superiority. Despite conscious disregard, the object takes on a daunting presence. Efforts to detach from and dominate the object intensify, leading to defensive strategies or futile attempts at asserting control, which are consistently undermined by the object’s imposing presence and the unwanted emotions it triggers. The constant internal struggle required to maintain composure results in psychoasthenia, characterized by heightened sensitivity, susceptibility to exhaustion, and chronic fatigue.

Analyzing the personal unconscious of the introvert reveals a wealth of fantasies about power, along with a fear of objects perceived as dangerously alive, to which the introvert is particularly susceptible. This fear fosters a specific type of cowardice; the introvert hesitates to assert himself or his views, always fearing increased influence from the object. He is daunted by strong emotions in others and often fears falling under negative influence. For him, objects seem to hold terrifying and potent attributes, attributes not consciously recognized but believed in due to unconscious perception. Since his conscious connection to the object is subdued, this connection exits through the unconscious, imbuing the object with unconscious qualities, which are largely infantile and primitive.

Consequently, his relationship with the object also turns primitive, mirroring the characteristics of early human-object interactions. It can appear as though objects have magical powers. Unfamiliar objects arouse fear and suspicion, as if hiding unseen threats; objects that are ancient and culturally revered are deeply connected to him as if by invisible threads; any change is unsettling, sometimes perceived as dangerous, because it suggests a magical endowment of life to the object. An isolated island where only allowed movements occur becomes an ideal scenario.

The novel “Auch Einer” by F. Th. Vischer richly illustrates this aspect of the introvert’s psyche, also revealing the symbolism underlying the collective unconscious. However, in this typological discussion, I’m setting aside the collective unconscious because it is a global phenomenon not specifically tied to any one psychological type.

(III) PECULIARITIES OF THE BASIC PSYCHOLOGICAL FUNCTIONS IN THE INTROVERTED ATTITUDE

1. Thinking

When I previously discussed extraverted thinking, I briefly described introverted thinking, to which I now return for further elaboration. Introverted thinking is predominantly guided by the subjective factor. This factor is at least represented by a subjective sense of direction, which ultimately influences judgment. Sometimes, it manifests as a more or less complete image that acts as a benchmark. This type of thinking can engage with both concrete and abstract elements, but at critical points, it is steered by subjective information.

Therefore, it does not circle back from concrete experiences to objective realities but rather to the subjective content. External facts are not the target or source of this thinking, even if the introvert might prefer to present it that way. It originates in the subject and circles back to the subject, though it can embark on extensive explorations into the realm of reality and actuality. Thus, when presenting new facts, its primary contribution is indirect, focusing more on proposing new perspectives than on discovering new facts. It poses questions, formulates theories, opens up possibilities, and provides insights, but it maintains a cautious approach toward facts. Facts serve as illustrations or evidence for a theory, not as an end in themselves.

If facts are ever pursued for their own sake, it is merely to nod to the extraverted approach. For this thinking mode, facts hold a secondary position; what is crucial is the development and articulation of the subjective idea or the primal symbolic image that vaguely stands before the inner vision. Its objective is not the intellectual reconstruction of tangible reality but the transformation of that obscure image into a shining idea. Its ambition is to grasp reality; to see how external facts align with and fulfill the structure of the idea; its creative potency is demonstrated when it can generate an idea that, though not evident in the external facts, is their most fitting abstract representation. Its mission is considered complete when the devised idea seems to emerge so naturally from the external facts that they substantiate its accuracy.

Just as extraverted thinking struggles to extract a genuinely sound inductive idea from concrete facts or to create new ones, introverted thinking also finds it challenging to transform its original image into an idea that is fully adapted to the facts. For just as the mere empirical accumulation of facts can paralyze thought and obscure their meaning in extraverted thinking, introverted thinking too displays a perilous inclination to either force facts to fit its image or to disregard them entirely, allowing its fantasy image to unfold freely. In such instances, it’s inevitable that the idea betrays its origins from the vague, archaic image. A certain mythological quality will persist, often mistaken for “originality” or, in more extreme cases, as whimsicality, especially by specialists who are not well-versed in mythological motifs.

The subjective conviction behind such an idea is usually very strong, and its persuasiveness increases with its detachment from external facts. Although the proponent of the idea might believe his limited factual evidence to be the actual foundation for the truth and validity of his idea, this is not the case. The idea’s compelling nature comes from its unconscious archetype, which has universal validity and timeless truth. However, this truth is so universal and symbolic that it must first be assimilated into the recognized and recognizable knowledge of the era before it can become a practical truth of real value to life. What good is a causality that never manifests in practical causes and practical effects?

This type of thinking can become engrossed in the vast truth of the subjective factor, generating theories for the sake of theories. It appears to aim at real or at least possible facts, yet there’s a marked tendency to shift from the realm of ideas to mere imagery. Consequently, many intuitions of possibilities emerge, none of which come to fruition, until eventually images are produced that no longer represent anything externally real, being “merely” symbols of the fundamentally unknowable. This results in mystical thinking that is as unproductive as empirical thinking that operates solely within the bounds of objective facts.

While the latter reduces to merely presenting facts, the former dissolves into depicting the unknowable, transcending all that could be represented through imagery. The presentation of facts holds undeniable truth because the subjective factor is excluded, allowing the facts to stand on their own. Likewise, the depiction of the unknowable possesses an immediate, subjective, and compelling force, as it can be substantiated by its very existence. The former declares, “It exists; therefore, it is,” whereas the latter asserts, “I think; therefore, I think.” Ultimately, introverted thinking reaches the certainty of its own subjective existence, while extraverted thinking finds its affirmation in the complete congruence with objective reality. As the extravert essentially negates himself through his dispersion among objects, the introvert, by stripping away all content, must settle for the bare fact of his existence.

In both instances, the progression of life shifts from the realm of thought to that of other psychic functions that had previously lingered in relative obscurity. The significant deprivation of introverted thinking in relation to objective facts is counterbalanced by a wealth of unconscious content. As consciousness, bonded to the thinking function, confines itself to the narrowest and most barren scope possible—albeit seemingly encompassing divine fullness—unconscious fantasy becomes correspondingly enriched with a multitude of archaically structured facts, a true maelstrom of magical and irrational elements, each bearing the distinct mark of the function designated to succeed thought as the representative of life.

If this function is intuition, the ‘other side’ is perceived through the lens of artists like Kubin or Meyrink. If it’s feeling, there emerge unprecedented and fantastical feeling relationships, along with utterly contradictory and incomprehensible feeling judgments. If it’s sensation, then the senses unveil novel, never-before-encountered possibilities, both internal and external to the body. A thorough examination of such transformations readily reveals the resurgence of primitive psychology, complete with all its defining traits. Notably, the experiences are not just primitive but also symbolic; indeed, the more ancient and primordial they appear, the more they signify impending truth, as everything ancient in our unconscious denotes a future possibility.

Under typical conditions, even the transition to the ‘other side’ fails to occur, let alone the salvific journey through the unconscious. This passage is primarily obstructed by conscious resistance to any diminution of the ego before the reality of the unconscious and the determining reality of the unconscious object. The result is a dissociation—essentially, a neurosis characterized by inner depletion and escalating mental exhaustion, a condition known as psychoasthenia.

2. The Introverted Thinking Type

Just as Darwin might exemplify the typical extraverted thinking type, Kant could represent the typical introverted thinking type. The former communicates through facts, while the latter prioritizes the subjective element. Darwin explores the vast terrain of objective facts, whereas Kant confines himself to a critique of knowledge itself. When contrasting a figure like Cuvier with Nietzsche, the difference becomes even more pronounced.

The introverted thinking type is defined by a predominance of the thinking outlined above. Similar to his extraverted counterpart, he is significantly influenced by ideas; however, these ideas originate not from external data but from an internal, subjective base. Like the extravert, he pursues his ideas, but inwards rather than outwards, seeking intensity over extensity. In these fundamental respects, he is clearly and distinctly different from his extraverted counterpart. Like every introverted type, he lacks the intensive connection to the object that characterizes his counterpart, often feeling at best superfluous, or at worst, as a disturbing presence to be avoided.

This negative stance towards objects—a mix of indifference and aversion—is a hallmark of introversion, complicating the description of the introverted type. Everything about him tends to recede or be concealed. His judgment can come across as cold, stubborn, arbitrary, and inconsiderate, driven more by subjective than objective concerns, leaving an impression of personal superiority. While courteous and friendly behavior may be evident, it often carries an undercurrent of unease, as if aimed at disarming a perceived threat to ensure it does not become a source of disturbance. The object, sensitive or not, may feel neglected or even undervalued, subjected to unnecessary precautions. Thus, this type often appears to dismiss the object, occasionally going so far as to envelop it in needless protective measures, further emphasizing the introvert’s tendency to…

Disappearing behind a cloud of misunderstanding, this only thickens the more he tries to compensate. With the aid of his lesser functions, he adopts a mask of urbanity, which often contrasts vividly with his true nature. Despite his willingness to take any risk in expanding his world of ideas, never fearing their potential danger, revolution, or heresy, he is paradoxically anxious about their realization in the objective world. This contradiction is unsettling for him. When the time comes to introduce his ideas to the world, he does not show the concern of an anxious mother for her children’s welfare; he simply presents them, often becoming extremely annoyed when they do not thrive independently. His lack of practical ability and aversion to acclaim contribute to this attitude. If his product seems subjectively correct and true to him, he expects it to be accepted as such in practice, and others must acknowledge its truth. Rarely does he make an effort to gain anyone’s appreciation, especially if they hold influence.

When he does, his attempts are usually so awkward that he achieves the opposite effect. Among colleagues, he often faces difficulties, never managing to gain their favor and merely demonstrating their irrelevance to him. In pursuing his ideas, he is stubborn, headstrong, and resistant to influence. Yet, he is surprisingly susceptible to personal influences if deemed harmless, becoming vulnerable to inferior elements. He overlooks being exploited or wronged in practical matters, due to his secondary concern with objective relations, leaving him without guidance in objectively valuing his product. While his thoughts may be clear to him, he complicates them and struggles with their practical application, entangled in scruples. His work is slow and difficult, either being taciturn or misunderstood by others, further affirming his perception of widespread stupidity. If understood, he is prone to overestimation.

Ambitious women can easily exploit his naivety, or he may become a misanthropic bachelor with a childlike heart. His appearance may seem awkward or painfully self-conscious, or he may exhibit an unconcerned, naive demeanor. In his professional field, he faces strong opposition, often unable to handle it unless he resorts to unproductive arguments. From a distance, he may appear prickly, inaccessible, or even haughty, sometimes seeming soured by antisocial prejudices. However, those close to him appreciate his worth and value his intimacy. To outsiders, he might seem difficult, but his closest friends understand and cherish his company. As a teacher, he struggles because he is not interested in teaching for its own sake but is absorbed in the material itself, leading to poor teaching performance.

As his type intensifies, his convictions become even more rigid and unbending. He shuts out foreign influences, growing more unsympathetic to his surroundings while becoming more reliant on those close to him. His expression becomes more personal and inconsiderate, and his ideas deepen, but they can no longer be adequately conveyed with the available material. This deficiency is compensated by increased emotivity and susceptibility. The foreign influence, brusquely rejected from the outside, reaches him internally, from the unconscious, compelling him to gather evidence against it and against things in general, which seems quite unnecessary to outsiders.

Due to his flawed relationship with the object, the subjectification of consciousness makes issues concerning himself appear most important. He begins to confuse his subjective truth with his own identity. Not that he tries to impose his beliefs on others personally, but he responds to any criticism, however justified, with venomous and personal remarks. Consequently, his isolation steadily grows. His initially fruitful ideas turn destructive, tainted by a bitterness residue. His fight against influences from the unconscious intensifies with his growing external isolation, eventually starting to debilitate him. A greater isolation, intended to shield him from these influences, usually deepens the conflict that internally destroys him.

The thinking of the introverted type is positive and synthetic, developing ideas that increasingly resonate with the timeless validity of primordial images. However, as their connection to objective experience weakens, these ideas become mythological and irrelevant to the current situation. Thus, this thinking retains its value only as long as it maintains a clear and understandable link with the known facts of the time. Once thinking turns mythological, its relevance dwindles until it becomes lost in itself. The relatively unconscious functions of feeling, intuition, and sensation, which balance out introverted thinking, are of inferior quality and exhibit a primitive, extraverted character. These are responsible for the challenging objective influences this type faces. The various self-defense measures and peculiar protective barriers these individuals tend to erect are well-known and serve to guard against ‘magical’ influences; a vague fear of the opposite sex also falls into this category.

3. Feeling

Introverted feeling is primarily determined by the subjective factor. This means that the feeling-judgment is as distinct from extraverted feeling as introverted thinking is from extraversion. It is undoubtedly challenging to intellectually describe the introverted feeling process or even provide a close description, although the unique nature of this feeling becomes evident once it is recognized. Since it is mainly influenced by subjective conditions and secondarily concerned with the object, this feeling is less apparent and often misunderstood. It seems to devalue the object, thus usually being recognized through its negative manifestations.

The presence of a positive feeling is inferred indirectly. Its goal is not to conform to the objective fact but to transcend it, as its unconscious effort aims to actualize underlying images. It constantly seeks an image that does not exist in reality but has been envisioned. It effortlessly moves past objects that do not align with its goal, striving for an inner intensity where objects provide only a supplementary stimulus. The depth of this feeling can only be guessed at and never fully understood. It renders people silent and hard to reach, withdrawing like a mimosa from the harshness of the object to delve into the subject’s depths. It expresses negative feeling-judgments or shows profound indifference as a defensive measure.

Primordial images are as much about feeling as they are about ideas. Thus, fundamental concepts like God, freedom, immortality are as much feeling-values as they are significant ideas. Therefore, everything mentioned about introverted thinking applies equally to introverted feeling, but here everything is felt instead of thought. However, because thoughts can generally be communicated more clearly than feelings, conveying the richness of this feeling to the outer world requires exceptional descriptive or artistic talent.

Like subjective thinking, which struggles to be understood due to its detachment, subjective feeling faces an even greater challenge in communication. It must find an external form that not only satisfies the expression of subjective feeling but also communicates it in such a way that it resonates with others. Despite the difficulty in finding a suitable form, especially when influenced by the vast array of primordial images, the effect can be achieved thanks to the internal and external similarities among humans. However, when it becomes tainted by ego-centricity, it becomes unappealing, appearing as sentimental self-love with an effort to attract attention and even unhealthy self-admiration.

Just as the subjectified consciousness of the introverted thinker, aiming for an abstraction of abstractions, leads to an intense yet empty thought process, the intensification of egocentric feeling results in a passion that feels only itself. This is the mystical, ecstatic stage that paves the way to the repressed extraverted functions. Just as introverted thinking is balanced by a primitive feeling with a magical attachment to objects, introverted feeling is counterbalanced by primitive thinking, whose concrete nature and obsession with facts are extreme. Continually freeing itself from object relations, this feeling fosters a freedom of action and conscience accountable only to the subject, potentially forsaking all traditional values. Consequently, unconscious thinking becomes increasingly susceptible to the influence of objective facts.

4. The Introverted Feeling Type

It is primarily among women that I have observed the predominance of introverted feeling. The saying “Still waters run deep” aptly describes such women. They tend to be quiet, elusive, and difficult to comprehend; often, they shield themselves behind a naive or simplistic facade, and their temperament may lean towards melancholy. They neither stand out nor openly reveal themselves. As they allow their subjectively oriented feeling to guide their lives, their true motives usually remain hidden. Their exterior behavior is harmonious and subtle, exuding a pleasant calmness and empathy that seeks neither to impress, influence, nor alter others in any manner. If this exterior aspect becomes too pronounced, one might mistakenly perceive them as neglectful or cold, which can escalate into genuine indifference towards the comfort and well-being of others. There is a noticeable detachment of feeling from the object.

In the case of the normal type, such a withdrawal typically occurs only when the object has an overly strong impact. A harmonious feeling environment prevails as long as the object maintains a moderate intensity of feeling and does not intrude upon their path. There is a reluctance to engage with the real emotions of the object, which are often subdued or rebuffed—or more precisely, ‘cooled off’ by a negative feeling-judgment. Despite a continual openness to peaceful and harmonious interaction, an unfamiliar object receives no warmth or friendly response, but instead encounters an air of indifference or repelling coldness.

One might even be made to feel redundant. In the presence of something potentially inspiring or exciting, this type maintains a kindly neutrality, mixed with occasional hints of superiority and critique, quickly dampening the enthusiasm of a sensitive object. However, a turbulent emotion will be sharply dismissed with chilling indifference unless it engages the subject through the activation of some primordial image, resulting in a temporary paralysis and, eventually, an even stronger resistance, hitting the object at their most sensitive point. The relationship with the object is kept in a stable and calm state of feeling as much as possible, where passion and its excesses are firmly rejected. Consequently, the expression of feeling is sparing, and once the object becomes aware of this, they feel persistently undervalued. However, this is not always the case, as the deficiency often remains unnoticed until the unconscious demands of feeling gradually lead to symptoms that demand more serious consideration.

A superficial judgment might mistakenly interpret the cold and reserved demeanor of this type as a lack of feeling. However, such an assessment would be incorrect; the reality is that her feelings are intensive rather than extensive, developing in depth. For instance, while an extensive feeling of sympathy can express itself in word and deed, quickly dissipating its impact, an intensive sympathy, lacking any outlet for expression, gains a passionate intensity that encompasses the world’s misery, often leaving her feeling overwhelmed. This intensity may lead to an unexpected outburst, resulting in an act of almost heroic nature, to which neither she nor the object can properly relate. To the outside world, or to the extravert who cannot perceive invisible forces, this type of sympathy appears as coldness because it does not manifest visibly.

Such misunderstandings are typical in the life of this type and are often used as strong arguments against the possibility of a deeper emotional connection with the object. However, the true object of this intense feeling is only vaguely understood by the normal type. It may find expression in a hidden religiosity, carefully protected from profane observation, or in private poetic expressions equally guarded; sometimes with a covert aim of achieving some form of superiority over the object. Women of this type often channel much of this intensity into their children, secretly infusing them with their passion.

Although the tendency to dominate or coerce the object with secretly held feelings rarely plays a disruptive role in the normal type and never leads to a serious attempt in this direction, traces of it may still permeate their influence on the object, manifesting as a domineering effect that is often hard to pinpoint. It is perceived as a kind of suffocating or oppressive atmosphere that casts a spell over those close to them. This gives a woman of this type a certain mysterious power that can be immensely fascinating to the extraverted man, touching his unconscious. This power stems from deeply felt, unconscious images, but consciousness often mistakenly attributes it to the ego, turning the influence into personal tyranny. When the unconscious subject is identified with the ego, the mysterious power of intensive feeling degenerates into trivial ambition, vanity, and petty tyranny, producing a type of woman unfortunately characterized by unscrupulous ambition and destructive cruelty. However, this distortion also leads to neurosis.

As long as the ego perceives itself as residing beneath the heights of the unconscious subject, and feeling signifies something greater and more powerful than the ego, the type is considered normal. The unconscious thinking, while archaic, can be incredibly useful in balancing occasional tendencies to elevate the ego to the status of the subject. However, when this elevation does occur due to the complete suppression of the unconscious’s reductive thought processes, the unconscious thinking starts to oppose and gets projected onto objects. This leads to the now ego-centric subject recognizing the power and significance of the undervalued object.

Consciousness starts to become preoccupied with “what others think.” Naturally, it assumes others are thinking all manner of negative thoughts, plotting evil, and scheming secret intrigues, etc. To counteract this, the subject feels compelled to engage in preventative intrigues, suspecting and probing others, forming subtle schemes. Surrounded by rumors, there is a frantic attempt to transform any perceived threat of inferiority into superiority. This situation breeds innumerable secret rivalries, where not only are unsavory and malevolent tactics employed, but even virtues are manipulated and compromised to gain the upper hand. Such developments inevitably lead to exhaustion. The resultant form of neurosis is more neurasthenic than hysterical; among women, this can also accompany severe physical conditions, such as anemia and its consequences.

5. Recapitulation of Introverted Rational Types

Both of the previously discussed types are rational, as they are grounded in reasoning and judging functions. Reasoning judgment relies not only on objective but also on subjective data. However, the predominance of either factor, often determined by a psychic disposition present from early youth, skews the reasoning function. For a judgment to be genuinely reasonable, it should equally consider both the objective and subjective factors, doing justice to both. This scenario would be ideal, presupposing an even development of both extraversion and introversion. Yet, as these movements are mutually exclusive, they cannot coexist but at best occur successively. Therefore, under normal circumstances, an ideal reason is unattainable. A rational type will always exhibit a typical variation in reasoning. Thus, the introverted rational types indeed possess a reasoning judgment, but it is one predominantly influenced by the subjective.

The laws of logic are not necessarily distorted since the bias lies in the premise. This premise is the dominance of the subjective factor underlying every conclusion and influencing every judgment. Its higher value over the objective factor is assumed from the start, not merely a conferred value but a pre-existing natural disposition before any rational evaluation. Therefore, to the introverted rational type, the judgment process that leads to the subjective factor seems more reasonable than that leading to the object. While this difference may be practically insignificant or nearly imperceptible in individual cases, it results in substantial, often frustrating oppositions on a larger scale, especially when the minimal shift in standpoint caused by the psychological premise in individual cases is overlooked. A significant mistake often made is attempting to identify a fallacy in the conclusion rather than recognizing the difference in the psychological premise. Acknowledging this distinction is challenging for every rational type since it questions the seemingly absolute validity of their principle, confronting them with its antithesis, which can feel like a catastrophe.

The introverted type is subject to misunderstanding, possibly even more so than the extraverted type. This is not because the extravert is inherently more critical or harsh, but rather because the prevailing cultural and philosophical ethos of the era works against the introvert. The introverted type finds himself in the minority, not necessarily in numbers but according to his own perception, not in direct opposition to the extraverted type but rather against the dominant, external world-view that favors the visible and tangible. As a result, if he aligns himself too closely with the contemporary style, he inadvertently undermines his own principles, which inherently value the invisible and subjective. Consequently, he may undervalue the subjective factor and compel himself to adopt the extraverted preference for objectivity, leading to feelings of inferiority as a form of self-reproach for this deviation.

It is, therefore, not surprising that our era, especially in movements that are ahead of their time, exhibits the subjective factor in art through exaggerated, crude, and grotesque expressions. This undervaluation of his principle renders the introvert egotistical and casts him into the role of the oppressed. The more self-centered he becomes, the more he perceives others, who seem to effortlessly align with the prevailing style, as oppressors from whom he must defend himself. He often fails to realize that his main error lies in not embracing the subjective factor with the same fidelity and enthusiasm that the extravert applies to objective realities. By undervaluing his own principle, his inclination toward egoism becomes inevitable, justifying the extravert’s prejudice. However, if he remained true to his principle, the label of ‘egoist’ would be profoundly mistaken; his stance would be vindicated by its overall effectiveness, and misunderstandings would be cleared away.

6. Sensation

Sensation, inherently focused on the object and objective stimulus, undergoes significant modification in the introverted attitude. Even in sensation, there is a subjective factor: beside the sensed object, there’s a sensing subject who influences the objective stimulus with their subjective disposition. In introversion, sensation primarily relies on this subjective aspect of perception. A clear example of this is found in art, where multiple painters, attempting to faithfully reproduce the same landscape, will produce distinct paintings. Differences arise not just from skill levels but due to varied visions, highlighting the influence of the subjective factor. This factor alters sense perception at its source, making it more about the subject’s perception than the object’s influence, demonstrating how sensation can be more connected to the subject than the object.

The power of the subjective factor is especially evident in art, where it can sometimes completely overshadow the object’s influence, though sensation remains. However, it becomes a perception of the subjective factor, with the object’s effect reduced to a mere trigger. Introverted sensation, therefore, is less about objects imposing themselves on the subject and more about the subject’s unique perspective or seeing different aspects than others do. The subject engages not just with the objective effect but with the subjective perception it evokes, which can differ significantly from objective reality.

Subjective perception might not directly correspond to the object but is influenced by collective unconscious presuppositions, mythological images, and the primal potential of ideas, adding significance and meaning beyond the object itself. This perception sees beyond the object’s surface, focusing on the reality of the subjective factor, such as primordial images that form a psychic mirror-world. This “mirror” reflects not just the current state of things but also their eternal essence, as if seen by a consciousness spanning millions of years. Introverted sensation thus presents an image that does more than replicate the object; it enriches it with a depth derived from ancient subjective experience and the anticipation of future events, contrasting with extraverted sensation’s focus on the immediate and tangible existence of things.

7. The Introverted Sensation Type

The introverted sensation type is characterized by its unique peculiarities, forming an irrational type due to its selection among occurrences being guided more by happenstance than by rational choice. Unlike the extraverted sensation type, which is influenced by the intensity of objective stimuli, the introverted type is oriented by the intensity of the subjective sensation component triggered by the objective stimulus. As a result, there is no predictable relationship between the object and the sensation it evokes, making impressions appear irregular and arbitrary to an external observer. Therefore, predicting what will capture this type’s attention is nearly impossible.

If this type had an ability and readiness to express themselves commensurate with the strength of their sensation, their irrational nature would be more apparent. This is particularly true for creative artists among them. However, this expressiveness is rare, and the introverted sensation type’s difficulty in expressing themselves often masks their irrationality. They might even be noted for their calm and passive demeanor or for their rational self-control, misleading superficial judgments. This is attributed to their detachment from objects, not because they devalue them, but because the object’s stimulus is immediately replaced by a subjective reaction, disconnecting the sensation from the object’s reality.

From an external viewpoint, it seems as though the object’s effect doesn’t impose itself on the subject. Instead, a subjective content from the unconscious intervenes, seizing the object’s effect. This intervention can be so sudden that the individual appears to shield themselves from the object’s influence, effectively obscuring it with their subjective perception. This can lead to a feeling of insignificance from the object’s perspective and an illusory reality for the subject, potentially blurring the distinction between the real object and their subjective perception.

Actions influenced by these subjective perceptions may seem odd or disconnected from objective reality, revealing the type’s anti-real subjectivity. However, where the object’s influence fails to fully penetrate, the introverted sensation type maintains a benevolent neutrality, striving for balance and adjustment rather than engagement.

Without an outlet for artistic expression, impressions dive deep into the psyche, captivating consciousness and hindering any effort to manage these impressions through conscious expression. This type typically resorts to archaic modes of expression, with thought and feeling serving only basic, everyday functions, inadequate for conveying the depth of their subjective perceptions. Consequently, this type is notably difficult to understand, both by others and by themselves.

8. Intuition

In the introverted attitude, intuition is focused on the inner object, a term appropriately applied to the elements of the unconscious. The relationship between inner objects and consciousness closely mirrors that of external objects, albeit with a psychological rather than a physical reality. To the intuitive perception, these inner objects manifest as subjective images of entities that, while not encountered in external experience, fundamentally shape the contents of the unconscious, particularly the collective unconscious. By nature, these contents are not directly experiential due to their intrinsic characteristics, similar to how our perception of external objects only partially corresponds with their actual nature. Thus, the representations of inner objects are shaped both by their inherent essence and the unique nature of the intuitive function.

Like sensation, intuition possesses a subjective component. In extraverted intuition, this aspect is minimized, but it becomes crucial in the introverted variant. Although it may be triggered by external objects, introverted intuition doesn’t linger on external possibilities, focusing instead on the response elicited by the external object within.

While introverted sensation limits itself to the perception of specific internal responses via the unconscious, without delving further, intuition bypasses this aspect of the subjective factor, identifying the underlying image responsible for the sensation. For example, in a psychogenic episode of dizziness, sensation would catalog the episode’s characteristics in detail, without questioning what caused it. In contrast, intuition uses the sensation as a springboard for action, looking beyond the surface to uncover the inner image responsible for the episode, such as envisioning a man staggering after being struck by an arrow. This image captivates intuitive focus, which seeks to explore and understand its evolution and eventual dissipation.

Thus, introverted intuition perceives the unconscious’s background processes as distinctly as extraverted sensation perceives external objects, granting unconscious images the status of tangible entities. However, because intuition operates independently of sensation, it may either fail to notice or only vaguely perceive the physical disturbances or effects triggered by these unconscious images. As a result, these images seem detached from the subject, existing autonomously, devoid of any personal connection.

Consequently, in the previously mentioned example of giddiness, the introverted intuitive would not consider that the perceived image might, in some way, relate to themselves. For someone with a rational orientation, such a notion may seem almost inconceivable, yet it is a reality I have frequently encountered in my interactions with this type.

The notable disinterest of the extraverted intuitive towards external objects is mirrored by the introverted intuitive’s indifference to internal objects. Just as the extraverted intuitive ceaselessly seeks out new possibilities, pursuing them with little regard for personal or others’ welfare, constantly driven by a quest for change and ready to dismantle recent achievements, the introverted intuitive drifts from one image to another. This pursuit occurs within the rich landscape of the unconscious, without making any personal connections to these phenomena. Similarly, just as the external world does not pose a moral dilemma for those who merely experience it sensorially, the realm of images presents no moral issue for the intuitive type. For both, it is an aesthetic challenge, a matter of perception, a ‘sensation.’

As a result, the introverted intuitive’s awareness of their own physical existence and its impact on others diminishes. From an extraverted perspective, it might be said that ‘reality holds no significance for him; he is lost in fruitless fantasies.’ While perceiving the unconscious images—generated so prolifically by the vital force of life—may seem unproductive in terms of immediate utility, these images offer alternative perspectives on life. Under certain conditions, they can unleash new energy potential. This seemingly most peculiar function is vital to the overall psychic economy, just as the existence of this human type is crucial to the psychic life of a society. Without such individuals, the prophets of Israel, for instance, would never have emerged.

Introverted intuition grasps the images originating from the a priori, that is, the inherited structures of the unconscious mind. These structures, known as archetypes, are the essence of the psychic operations of our ancestors, encapsulating the collective experiences of organic life across millennia, condensed into typical patterns. Therefore, these archetypes encompass all experiences that have occurred on this planet since the dawn of time, with their distinctness intensifying through frequent and profound occurrences. The archetype, using Kant’s terminology, could be considered the noumenon of the image that intuition perceives and, through perceiving, brings into being.

The unconscious is not merely a static entity but a dynamic one that undergoes internal transformations closely linked to universal events. Through its perception of these inner processes, introverted intuition provides insights of potentially immense significance for understanding broad phenomena. It can predict new possibilities and future events in a more or less defined manner, akin to the actual events that eventually unfold. This prophetic ability stems from its connection to the archetypes, which dictate the predictable progression of all experiences within the realm of possibility.

9. The Introverted Intuitive Type

The distinctive nature of introverted intuition, when it dominates, creates a unique type of individual: on one end, the mystical dreamer and seer, and on the other, the imaginative eccentric and artist. The latter can be seen as more typical since this type tends to focus on the perceptive aspect of intuition. Generally, the intuitive individual is primarily concerned with perception; it is their main challenge, and for the productive artist, the molding of this perception is key. However, the eccentric person is satisfied with the intuition that shapes and defines them. An intensification of intuition can lead to a pronounced detachment from tangible reality, making the individual seem mysterious or even incomprehensible to those around them.

If an artist, this person can express in their work a range of extraordinary and distant themes, combining the significant with the mundane, the beautiful with the grotesque, and the whimsical with the sublime. If not an artist, this individual might be seen as an unacknowledged genius, a great potential that has veered off course, resembling a wise fool or a character out of “psychological” novels.

Though it’s not typical for the introverted intuitive type to see perception as a moral issue—since this requires some enhancement of rational functions—even a modest development of judgment can shift intuitive perception from merely aesthetic considerations to moral ones. This variation still aligns with the introverted intuitive type but leans more towards ethical considerations. The moral dilemma arises when the intuitive person begins to question the significance of their visions for themselves and the world, pondering over the duties or tasks these visions entail. A purely intuitive individual who suppresses judgment or experiences it only in the context of perception might never fully engage with these questions, focusing solely on the process of perception. Thus, they might find the moral dilemma irrelevant or even absurd, choosing to ignore any troubling visions. However, for the morally oriented intuitive, these questions are crucial and form a significant part of their engagement with their intuitions.

The introverted intuitive is more concerned with the significance of his visions than their aesthetic potential, focusing on the moral implications inherent in their meaning. His judgment helps him to recognize, albeit dimly, that his personal identity and wholeness are somehow intertwined with his visions. He perceives these not merely as external phenomena to be observed but as experiences that seek to become integral to his life. This realization compels him to integrate his visions into his life. However, by depending solely on his visions, his moral endeavor becomes skewed; he renders himself and his life symbolic, aligned with the inner and eternal essence of events but disconnected from contemporary reality. This detachment limits his impact on the present, rendering him misunderstood. His language diverges from the common vernacular, becoming overly subjective, and his reasoning fails to persuade. He can only declare or testify, like a “voice crying in the wilderness.”

The primary suppression for the introverted intuitive is the sensation of the object. This suppression defines his unconscious, manifesting a compensatory extraverted sensation function of an archaic nature in the unconscious. Thus, the unconscious personality resembles an extraverted sensation type, but of a more basic and primal form. This aspect of sensation is characterized by impulsiveness, lack of restraint, and an intense reliance on sensory impressions. This reliance serves as a counterbalance to the “thin upper air” of his conscious attitude, grounding it to prevent total abstraction. However, if the conscious attitude becomes overly dominant, leading to an undue emphasis on internal perceptions, the unconscious emerges as a counterforce. This results in compulsive sensations that starkly contrast the conscious attitude due to their extreme object-dependence. The resulting neurosis takes the form of a compulsion neurosis, with symptoms ranging from hypochondriacal issues and heightened sensitivity of the sense organs to compulsive attachments to specific people or objects.

10. Recapitulation of Introverted Irrational Types

The two types described, characterized by their introversion, are often challenging for external judgment to accurately assess. Their limited capacity or willingness to express themselves outwardly provides minimal basis for effective criticism. Their primary focus on internal processes leaves only their reserve, secretiveness, a seeming lack of empathy, uncertainty, or an unexplained perplexity visible to the outside world. When they do express themselves, it is often through indirect manifestations of their less developed and relatively unconscious functions. Such expressions can lead to biases against these types in their social environments, resulting in their frequent underestimation or misunderstanding.

Their struggle to understand themselves, largely due to a deficiency in judgment, mirrors their inability to grasp why public opinion often undervalues them. They fail to recognize that their external expressions also lack depth and quality. Captivated by the wealth of their subjective experiences, they do not realize that what they communicate to others barely scratches the surface of their profound internal experiences. The disjointed and often episodic nature of their communications demands excessive effort for understanding and goodwill from their audience. Moreover, their manner of expression lacks the warmth and coherence necessary to convincingly convey their inner world to others. Despite this, their often abrupt and dismissive behavior towards the external world is unintentional and unrecognized by themselves.

A more empathetic view of such individuals emerges when one acknowledges the difficulty of translating inner perceptions into coherent and understandable language. However, this empathy should not excuse them from the effort to express themselves, as overcoming this challenge is crucial for their development. Life itself tends to impose significant external challenges on these types, perhaps even more so than on others, which can serve to ground the allure of their inner visions. Often, only a pressing personal need can compel them to articulate their insights in a way that resonates with others.

From an extraverted and rationalistic perspective, such introverted types may appear as the least productive individuals. However, from a broader viewpoint, they serve as living proof that the richness and diversity of the world, with its vibrant and intoxicating life, is not confined to the external realm but also resides within. These types embody one-sided aspects of Nature, yet they offer valuable lessons to those who are not solely guided by the prevailing intellectual trends of the time. In their unique manner, these individuals contribute to education and cultural advancement, teaching more through their existence than their words could convey. It is from their lives, particularly from their most significant shortcoming—their difficulty in communication—that we can learn about one of our civilization’s key oversights: the undue emphasis on verbal instruction and methodological teaching.

The influence of parents on their child, for instance, extends beyond their words to the example set by their lives. Similarly, the efficacy of a teacher is not merely a matter of method; no teaching method can compensate for a lack of quality in the teacher’s character, which can have a detrimental, albeit hidden, impact on the student. The prevailing belief in the power of methodology suggests that success and fulfillment are external achievements accessible through the right techniques. Yet, does the life of a religious teacher embody the joy stemming from inner realization?

The introverted and irrational types, while lacking in rational reasoning and the ethics that accompany it, exemplify an alternative path sorely missing in our society. Their existence challenges the notion that external success is paramount, highlighting the importance of inner exploration and realization in cultivating a more complete human experience.

11. The Principal and Auxiliary Functions

In the descriptions provided earlier, I aim not to suggest that such pure types frequently exist in reality. They are, more accurately, composite portraits in the manner of Francis Galton, highlighting common and thus typical traits in an exaggerated manner, while individual nuances are correspondingly diminished. Detailed examination of individual cases invariably shows that alongside the most developed function, there is always another function of secondary importance, which, though less differentiated in consciousness, plays a relatively significant role.

For clarity, let’s summarize: While the outputs of all functions can be conscious, we specifically refer to a function as conscious when its application is not only willfully directed but also fundamentally guides the orientation of consciousness. This occurs, for example, when thinking is not just after-the-fact contemplation or idle reflection but when its judgments carry absolute validity—such that the logical deductions made in a specific situation are compelling for action or belief, without needing further justification. This level of autonomous authority typically resides in only one function at a time because the independent operation of another function would lead to a different orientation, likely conflicting with the first.

For conscious adaptation to function effectively, it is essential to have clear, unequivocal goals, which precludes the dominance of two equally powerful functions. The secondary function, while not as pivotal, serves as an auxiliary or complementary role, aiding the primary function without contradicting its nature. For example, feeling cannot serve as a secondary function to thinking due to their fundamental opposition. True thinking must rigorously exclude feeling to remain faithful to its principle. However, it’s worth noting that individuals exist where thinking and feeling are equally influential, resulting in neither being particularly differentiated; this scenario indicates not a differentiated type but a relatively undeveloped state of both thinking and feeling. The uniform level of consciousness and unconsciousness across functions is characteristic of a more primitive mentality.

Experience demonstrates that the secondary function in any personality type is distinct from but not antagonistic to the primary function. For instance, thinking as a primary function can be effectively complemented by intuition or sensation as secondary functions but, as noted, never by feeling. Intuition and sensation do not inherently conflict with thinking—they do not necessitate unconditional exclusion as feeling might, due to its direct competitive nature with thinking as a judging function. Instead, being perceptive functions, intuition and sensation can provide valuable support to thinking. Should they reach a level of differentiation equal to that of thinking, they would shift the attitude from judging to perceiving, undermining the rationality that thinking relies on by prioritizing the irrational nature of pure perception. Thus, the secondary function is beneficial and viable only as long as it supports the primary function without asserting the independence of its principle.

In the variety of types encountered in practice, it is consistently observed that alongside the conscious primary function, there exists a relatively unconscious secondary function that significantly differs from the primary one. This interplay results in recognizable combinations: the practical intellect paired with sensation, the speculative intellect coupled with intuition, the artistic intuition that uses feeling to select and present its images, and the philosophical intuition that collaborates with a strong intellect to translate visions into understandable thought, among others. These combinations form the basis of well-defined personality profiles, each pairing contributing to the unique way an individual interacts with the world.

The organization of the unconscious functions aligns with the dynamics of the conscious functions. For instance, a person with a dominant practical intellect might possess an unconscious intuitive feeling orientation, where the feeling function is more significantly repressed than intuition. This detail is particularly relevant for those engaged in practical psychological work, as understanding these dynamics is crucial in therapeutic contexts. I’ve often seen practitioners attempt to directly foster the development of the feeling function from the unconscious in individuals with a predominantly intellectual focus. Such efforts are usually futile and can lead to problematic outcomes because they forcefully contravene the conscious orientation. If such an approach were to succeed, it could result in the patient developing an excessive dependency on the therapist, a phenomenon known as ‘transference.’ This dependency can be quite difficult to resolve, as it effectively substitutes the patient’s independent standpoint with that of the therapist.

However, a more natural and protective approach to engaging with the unconscious and its most suppressed function is through the secondary function, especially in rational types, by enhancing the irrational function. This method broadens the conscious perspective, offering sufficient safeguarding against the potentially overwhelming influence of the unconscious. Conversely, for an irrational type, strengthening the rational secondary function present in consciousness is crucial for adequately preparing for the unconscious’s impact.

The unconscious functions retain a primitive, instinctual nature, often symbolized in dreams and fantasies as battles or encounters between animals or mythical creatures. These representations reflect the inner conflicts or forthcoming interactions between different aspects of the psyche.

[1] William Blake, Marriage of Heaven and Hell

[2] Semon, Mneme, translated by Louis Simon (London: Allen & Unwin).

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J-P Giner

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