an Ingenious Strategy for Reconciling the Enneagram and the MBTI
Abstract
As Pat and I have pointed out in an earlier paper, one cannot hope to arrive at a fruitful, or even adequate, understanding of the relationship between the Enneagram and the MBTI by merely comparing the type DESCRIPTIONS that the two systems offer, or by expecting to find a simple one-to-one correspondence between types. One must be willing to explore the similarities and differences in the fundamental philosophical and psychological assumptions on which the two systems are based.
Unfortunately, as we pointed out in our first article on the subject, Enneagram theory lacks the clarity and consistency that Jung's 'four function theory' provides for the MBTI. Walter Geldart has sought to remedy this situation by attempting to clarify the nature of what we have called the Enneagram's 'insfrastructure' or 'deep structure'.
He proceeds in an ingenious manner that warrants serious consideration by anyone who
ernestly desires to come to grips with how the two systems interface and what this has to tell us about human nature and personality type.
By resisting the siren-call of the 'triad', Walter has avoided the treacherous theoretical shoals on which other theorists have run aground. He has given himself permission to explore farther afield, and thus ventures into interesting theoretical territory - the little-talked-about 'fourfold' models in the Enneagram tradition, models which bear remarkable resemblence, as it turns out, to Jung's 'four function theory'.
Walter's course has led him to rediscover Ouspensky's work, complete with its own 'four function' theory, and infuse it with a new sense of meaning and urgency that derives from his expectation that it could provide an excellent bridge for spanning the seemingly diverse worlds of Jungian personality theory and contemporary Enneagram thought. As a result of pursuing this path, he unearths a veritable treasure of theoretical possiblities. But he does not for long remain content with mining the gold in others' fields, and ventures out into entirely new territory that he has staked out as his own terrain.
To simplify, what Walter does is as follows. He takes Jung's four functions and Ouspensky's four functions, pools them into one group, discards duplicates, and
counts. When you do this, what you get, is a (new) set of FIVE separate
functions. He then makes the obvious but ingenious suggestion that both camps might benefit from a 'five function' theory, which he proceeds not only to articulate, but to apply to Enneagram studies. Walter accepts and acknowledges Jung's original four functions (Thinking, Feeling, Intuition, and Sensing), but also incorporates into the scheme a 'fifth' function, Ospensky's 'moving function'. This function Walter correctly associates with what Jung calls the 'persona', which, according to some contemporary psychotherapists like Robert Hopcke, gets short shrift in Jung's original psychological theory. And so the 'five function' set, it can be argued, may comprise a much-needed supplement to the Jungian approach. Interestingly, it also provides Ouspensky/Gurdieff's system with something that it sorely needs, as we shall see.
Walter's overall strategy not only manifests the deeply conciliatory and creative style that characterizes him as a person (and seems to reflect a profound and healthy 'Ninishness' on his part, as well as strong 'intuitive' tendencies), it is an eminently PLAUSIBLE solution. It may indeed also be an unavoidable one, at least for anyone who, out of a deep and abiding respect for both systems, is not interested in having to reject one system in order to acknowledge the other. In any case, the 'five function' theory is one that cannot be easily or summarily dismissed, the recent offhanded and supercilious comments of Tony Blake 1 notwithstanding.
In articulating his model (which he calls 'the Enneagram of Consciousness') Geldart challenges both camps to question their most basic assumptions and take a second, deeper
look at an alternative theory, a third possibility - a synthesis on the basis of which the Enneagram and the MBTI might begin to be seen as describing different aspects of the same thing, the human mind.
Section One: Ouspensky's 'Four Function' Theory
It may surprise readers who are in general more familiar with Jung than Ouspensky,
to learn that the latter not only delineated four mental faculties, but explicitly
referred to them as the 'four functions'. Ouspensky's four-function theory, like Jung's,
played a prominent role in his system. It provided him with a fundamental framework and vocabulary in the terms of which his psychological insights were cast.
Ouspensky's system, as Enneagram theorists and practitioners will know, was handed down to him by Gurdieff, who is also generally credited as a source, in moderm times, of the
Enneagram teachings.
Ouspensky's system clearly recognizes 'thinking' as a function, and
also 'feeling', just as contemporary Enneagram practitioners continue to do. For
instance, about these two, he remarks:
This could be Jung speaking, or someone describing Jung's system. But it is not,
its Ouspensky. And this passage is not the only mention that he makes of the
intellectual and emotional functions. His work abounds with references to them, examples, and discussion.
In addition, Ouspensky identifies two other functions, which he calls the 'instinctive' function and the 'moving' function - making a total of four -
Ouspensky's description of the 'instinctive' function is very close to Jung's description of the function that he calls 'Sensing'. It is the world of the body that
both men essentially have in mind.
So Jung and Ouspensky are in basic agreement about three out of four functions.
The only real difference between the two has to do with the what each sees as the FOURTH function in their respective systems. Jung calls the fourth function in his set 'Intuition'; in Ouspensky's system the fourth is the 'moving function'. About the 'moving function', Ouspensky says:
Needless to say, this definition diverges in a remarkable way from Jung's concept
of 'intuition'. To the Jungian, who expects to have the picture of the functions filled
out by a discussion of intuition, the sudden interest in 'reflexes' and motor activity
may at first glance appear downright bizarre. But the moving function, as Ouspensky intends this concept, is more akin to 'will' and 'intentionality', although it also includes (as the passage above implies) learned physical movement.
For Jung, of course, 'intuition' is the faculty that is sensitive to 'possibility', disembodied 'potential', as it were - and ultimately to a more or less ethereal 'objectless' dimension. What are we to do with the fact that the two systems diverge so widely in their description of the fourth function?
Well, we could
Or we could embrace BOTH the 'moving function' and 'intuition' - treating
them as equally legitimate, but also SEPARATE faculties. This approach, which is Walter's, attempts to honor the differences and accomodate both views by positing the existence of a total of FIVE functions. It must be admitted that it is not a bad road to take, especially for anyone who genuinely sees the point of what Jung was trying to get at with the concept of 'intuition', but also has an appreciation for
what Gurdjeffian and Ouspensky meant by the 'moving' function.
For quite some time, I must admit, I resisted even entertaining the possibility of a five function theory. It seemed quite a leap to take. It seemed to offend the principle (Occam's so-called 'razor') which states that the simplest theory that can account for the facts is the best. Five was less elegant than four, and where would it all end? What was stopping somebody from proposing a sixth or seventh function?
But what finally convinced me to give the theory serious consideration, what actually excited me about the prospect, was the realization that not only did the 'moving function' promise to remedy a deficit in the Jungian system, the 'intuitive function' seemed to address a parallel lack in the Gurdjieff/Ouspensky model. Both systems might
benefit from the marriage! When a proposed model promises to solve previously unresolved problems in the rival systems that it seeks to synthesize, this makes one sit up and take notice - as it is one of the signs of a true synthesis.
Section Two: What Ouspensky's System Lacks
Ouspensky, like Gurdieff 2 before him, has very little to say about 'intuition' per se. When Ouspensky's book is read from a Jungian point of view this absence is a glaring one. Never once is the word mentioned in 'The Fourth Way', for instance. Furthermore, words that act in Jung's system as virtual synonyms for the term 'intuition - eg, 'imagination', 'inspiration' 3, and so forth - are denigrated when they ARE mentioned by Ouspensky.
It should be no surprise, then, that what is severely lacking in Ouspensky's work,
is any discussion whatsover regarding SYMBOLISM - the province par excellence of the introverted intuitive, and of Jung, himself an exemplary introverted intuitive. There is no attempt to explore, for instance, the latent meaning of dreams (ala Freud), or investigate archetypal significance. This is a very important omission, and one that it not likely to entice introverted-intuitives and/or Jungians therapists (who, as one estimation would have it, are 95% introverted intuitive) to throw Jung's system overboard, if this is what they are required to do in order to embrace Ouspensky.
If one is to please those who are unwilling to forego the precious concept of 'intuition'
as an INDEPENDENT function (and thus a separate personality variable), what is to be done? The only real option for the Jungian (short of rejecting Ouspensky's system outright), is to entertain a 'fifth' Jungian function - identical to what Ouspensky calls 'the moving function'.
Imagination
The decision that faces the personality theorist, at this juncture, is complicated by
the fact that on some occasions Ouspensky seems to speak as if certain phenomenological experiences that are intimately related to the intuitive function (dreams, for instance, and other so-called 'primary process' activities) are to be classified under 'imagination' and included under the 'moving function'.
Might the 'moving function' be nothing more than 'intuition' in disguise?
Let's consider that possibility. Jung coined the phrase 'active imagination' to stand for what might be the cornerstone concept in Jung's therapeutic system, and insisted on distinguishing it from mere 'passive' imagination. Ouspensky likewise distinguishes a lower form of imagination (which he called 'negative' imagination). This, like Jung's
passive imagination, is NOT under the control of the individual. But Ouspensky,
again not unlike Jung, also observed that there IS a form of (advanced) imagination that
is brought under the individual's control - and these acts he subsumes under the
rubric of 'moving function'.
"Imagination has many different sides", says Ouspensky. But note how all of the forms that he goes on to mention are characterized by an orientation towards 'what is possible', in contrast to what is 'actual' - "We imagine non-existent states, non-existent possibilities, non-existent powers". In giving us this definition 'imagination' he comes closest to offering a synonym for what Jung called 'intuition', the mental function that discerns possibility.
Ouspensky continues,
Yes, and 'creativity' is intimately associated with the 'intuitive' function.
Note, however, how easily Ouspensky slips into conceiving of this higher form of imagination not as a separate function, but as a brand of 'thinking'. Jung was much clearer in distinguishing it as an independent dimension of mind, and also
treating it as independent personality variable. Walter is the Enneagram theorist who must be credited for having the courage to bravely recognize the contribution that Jung made in this regard, and for retaining the concept of the 'intuitive function' as a separate faculty.
It would be wonderfully simple if it turned out that everything that Ouspensky
said about his fourth function paralleled what Jung said about 'intuition'. Then
all we would have to do is rename it, and we would have succeeded in finding common philosophical ground - a shared theoretical framework and vocabulary. But, alas, it
is not so easy to collapse what Ouspensky (and Gurdieff before him) meant by the 'moving function' into the concept of 'intuition', as we shall see in the next section.
Section Three: What Jung's System Lacks
As Hopcke points out, it is not surprising that Jung's concept of the 'persona'
should have been amongst his least developed. His interest, as an introverted intuitive (IN), lay in the other direction - on the INSIDE, as it were. Persona work, in contrast,
involves embodiment, how we present ourselves on the outside (ES), the postures we
maintain, the 'front' that we put up. Furthermore, it is quite interesting, and relevant to our discussion here, that some of the more intriguing and innovative contemporary
investigations into the phenomenon of human 'posturing' explicitly appeal to
concepts of human 'movement' that closely resemble Gurdjieff and Ouspensky's.
I would be remiss if, in this context, I didn't point out that the one feature of Jung's system that has consistently drawn criticism almost since its inception, one fault that may be determined by posterity to be its fatal flaw -it is the 'staticity' that appears to be inextricably intertwined with its most basic concepts and assumptions. The role of the 'archetype' in Jung's world view has received the harshest criticism in this regard. Although the concept has also been of inestimable therapeutic benefit, the word iself
implies the existence of a static 'original pattern', a prototypical idea, an unchanging absolute. Almost in direct proportion to its therapeutic usefulness - which seems to derive from its capacity to connect us with a transpersonal level of meaning - the concept, ironically, threatens to mire us in absolutist cultural biases and 19th century 'scientific' expectations about 'universal' truths. In recent years the world of the archetype has been unfavorably compared to other theoretical constructs that perform a similar function, but in a new, less stodgy manner - concepts like physicist David Bohm's 'holomovement', which conceives of even the most fundamental scientific principles as processes in constant flux.
The meta-level shift from 'archetype' (the static world of the Platonic 'idea') to what we might call 'proto-process' (the dynamic Bohmian world of a constantly evolving 'holoMOVEMENT') may be a subtle one. But it is also a tremendously significant one.
I shall not dwell on this point here. Instead I offer two quotes. One from a contemporary
philosopher of science, and the other from Gurdjieff himself, whose view the philosopher unwittingly parallels. Both have intentionally developed a language that seeks to make the concept of 'movement' primary. And, interestingly, both use the word 'posture' as a key
term in the vocabularies they have constructed to do this. It is a word that implies the 'relative disposition of various parts of a thing' as the whole containing these parts MOVES, from one state to another. The concept of 'posture' is, as it turns out, a more dynamic concept, although also parallel, to the relatively static notion of 'persona' (which literally means 'mask'). This is so not only because the former word has a verb
form, and the latter is used exclusively as a noun - but because 'posture' is intimately related, as the dictionary tells us, to 'the ACT of posing', an intentional
'putting forward'. Postures are stop-action cross-sections of movement.
In the old paradigm, of 'arche-types' and 'universals', we usually think of movement
as taking place WITHIN space, a space which is absolute, and itself unmoving - a space that thereby 'grounds' us. But space (and the structures in it) may actually be a kind of construct that emerges out of a more primordial type of 'movement', which precedes it. In his book, 'Human Posture: the Nature of Inquiry', Schumacher, a contemporary philosopher of science, explains:
Insofar as the individual in question fails to remain in the pre-static state of 'movement' that Schumacher so eloquently describes, he or she falls prey (and we all invariably do, at one stage or another) to the what Gurdieff
is talking about in the following passage:
The first movements [of the child] are recorded. Records of the movements of the body are purely subjective. This recording is like that of a phonograph disc - at first, up to
three months, it is very sensitive; then, after four months it becomes less sensitive' after a year, still weaker. At first even the sound of the breathing can be heard, a week later one can hear nothing below a low-voiced conversation. It is the same with the human brain: at first it is very receptive and every new movement is recorded. As a final result one man may have many postures, another only a few. For instance, one man may have acquired 55 postures while the possibility of recording them lasted, while another man,
living in the same conditions, may have obtained 250. ...Up to a certain time postures
become formed in every man. Then they stop being formed, but those that are formed remain till his death.
There are a myriad of good philosophical reasons to opt for the word
'movement' in contexts like this, as the word implies the primacy of PROCESS
over STATE. This has been the trend in modern physics over the course of the twentieth
century, culminating in Bohm's concept of the 'holomovement'. Let's assume that it is this profound sense in which the word 'movement' is being used when a 'fifth' function is proposed by Ouspensky. Can a more powerful supplement to Jungian thought be imagined?
If the only thing that Walter's 'five function theory' were to have accomplished was to hold our noses to the hotspot at the interface between the two systems, the place of friction where the sparks fly and the air is almost too heavy to breathe, it be deemed a resounding success. For it is here that we are forced to reconsider our most fundamental and precious concepts, and eventually rework them - despite our own 'better judgment', as it were. And it is here that cross-fertilization between the two systems that underly the Enneagram and the MBTI will, and does, occur.
But the theory achieves more than this, in fact, as I hoped to have shown.
In addition, it reminds us, amongst others, that finding a solution to the riddle of the relationship between the two personality systems is just as likely to involve an effort as conceptually deep as it is empirically wide. The courage that Walter models in by intellectually going where the relevant questions lead him, despite the risk of appearing foolish or confused in the light of the 'conventional wisdom' that insists on policing these new frontiers, is to be commended - as is the compassion and patience that he exhibits toward those who would ridicule or summarily dismiss his efforts.
I don't always agree with Walter's conclusions, but I have learned to listen carefully to what he says, and to suspend my judgment for long enough to let his words seep in and take their inevitable effect. He at times has an uncanny ability to put his finger on precisely the piece of empirical evidence that turns out to be pivotal, even when he is incapable of articulating why. And his capacity for theory is fathomless. His five-function theory, in
particular, is one of those things, it seems, that just 'grows on you'.
1. In an extremely long letter to the editor of the Enneagram
Monthly, which focuses on Geldart's work, Blake recently opined:
Despite the fact that his letter was longer than most articles in the same publication -
it ran over 3,000 words in length, in fact - Blake offered no evidence for his strongly stated opinions.
2. Gurdieff characteristically mentioned only THREE 'centers' - the 'thinking center', 'the emotional center', and the 'moving center'. These correspond, in his system
to what he called 'personality', 'essence', and 'body', respectively. However, he sometimes also referred to FOUR centers - the 'thinking center', 'emotional center', 'sex center', and 'moving center'(p.133, Views from the Real World). Instances like the latter are what probably provided Ouspensky with the rationale for his four-fold functional system. 'Personality', by the way, in the way that Gurdjieff intended the term in this meant very different from what it has come to mean to us today, which is closer to what Jung meant by the term. For Gurdieff personality was more akin to what we might call a 'false self system'. Similarly, 'essence' does not mean what it may seem to imply to a Jungian. One could actually argue, in fact, that it is more akin to what Jung meant by 'personality'.
About the difference between 'personality' and 'essence', Gurdieff says:
In contrast, Jungian 'psychological type' (what Myers-Briggs call 'personality type') is deemed very difficult to change, if not impossible. And one could easily argue that even for individuals who achieve self-actualization or 'enlightenment', personality type of the Jungian kind may not necessarily be fully 'transcended'.
3. Gurdieff also took delight in demeaning 'inspiration'. In the 'eightish' style for which he is famous, Gurdieff is quoted as having said on one occasion, 'Inspiration is cheap, rest assured of that. Only conflict, argument, may
produce a result' [p. 100, Views from the Real World]
References
Gurdjieff, G. I. (1973) Views from the Real World: Early Talks of G. I. Gurdjieff. New York: Penguin Books.
Ouspensky, P.D. (1971) The Fourth Way: a Record of Talks and Answers to Questions Based on the Teachings of G.I.Gurdjieff. New York: Vintage Books.
Schumacher, John A. (1989) Human Posture: the Nature of Inquiry. New York: State University of New York Press.
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