Extraverted Thinking
Extraverted Feeling
Extraverted Sensation
Extraverted Intuition
Everyone is, admittedly, orientated by the data with which the outer world provides him ; yet we see that this may be the case in a way that is only relatively decisive. Because it is cold out of doors, one man is persuaded to wear his overcoat, another from a desire to become hardened finds this unnecessary; one man admires the new tenor because all the world admires him, another withholds his approbation not because he dislikes him but because in his view the subject of general admiration is not thereby proved to be admirable; one submits to a given state of affairs because his experience argues nothing else to be possible, another is convinced that, although it has repeated itself a thousand times in the same way, the thousand and first will be different. The former is orientated by the objective data; the latter reserves a view, which is, as it were, interposed between himself and the objective fact. Now, when the orientation to the object and to objective facts is so predominant that the most frequent and essential decisions and actions are determined, not by subjective values but by objective relations, one speaks of an extraverted attitude. When this is habitual, one speaks of an extraverted type. If a man so thinks, feels, and acts, in a word so lives, as to correspond directly with objective conditions and their claims, whether in a good sense or ill, he is extraverted. His life makes it perfectly clear that it is the objective rather than the subjective value which plays the greater role as the determining factor of his consciousness. He naturally has subjective values, but their determining power has less importance than the external objective conditions. Never, therefore, does he expect to find any absolute factors in his own inner life, since the only ones he knows are outside himself. Epimetheus-like, his inner life succumbs to the external necessity, not of course without a struggle; which, however, always ends in favor of the objective determinant. His entire consciousness looks outwards to the world, because the important and decisive determination always comes to him from without. But it comes to him from without, only because that is where he expects it. All the distinguishing characteristics of his psychology, in so far as they do not arise from the priority of one definite psychological function or from individual peculiarities, have their origin in this basic attitude. Interest and attention follow objective happenings and, primarily, those of the immediate environment. Not only persons, but things, seize and rivet his interest. His actions, therefore, are also governed by the influence of persons and things. They are directly related to objective data and determinations, and are, as it were, exhaustively explainable on these grounds. Extraverted action is recognizably related to objective conditions. In so far it is not purely reactive to environmental stimuli, it character is constantly applicable to the actual circumstances, and it finds adequate and appropriate play within the limits of the objective situation. It has no serious tendency to transcend these bounds. The same holdsgood for interest: objective occurrences have a well-nigh inexhaustible charm, so that in the normal course the extravert’s interest makes no other claims.
The moral laws which govern his action coincide with the corresponding claims of society, i.e. with the generally valid moral viewpoint. If the generally valid view were different, the subjective moral guiding line would also be different, without the general psychological habitus being in any way changed. It might almost seem, although it, is by no means the case, that this rigid determination by objective factors would involve an altogether ideal and complete adaptation to general conditions of life. An accommodation to objective data, such as we have described, must, of course, seem a complete adaptation to the extraverted view, since from this standpoint no other criterion exists. But from a higher point of view, it is by no means granted that the standpoint of objectively given, facts is the normal one under all circumstances. Objective conditions may be either temporarily or locally abnormal. An individual who is accommodated to such con certainly conforms to the abnormal style of his surroundings, but, in relation to the universally valid laws of life. He is, in common with his milieu, in an abnormal position. The individual may, however, thrive in such surroundings but only to the point when he, together with his whole milieu, is destroyed for transgressing the universal laws of life. He must inevitably participate in this downfall with the same completeness as he was previously adjusted to the objectively valid situation. He is adjusted, but not adapted, since adaptation demands more than a mere frictionless participation in the momentary conditions of the immediate environment. (Once more I would point to Spitteler’s Epimetheus). Adaptation demands an observance of laws far more universal in their application than purely local and temporary conditions. Mere adjustment is the limitation of the normal extraverted type. On the one hand, the extravert owes his normality to his ability to fit into existing conditions with relative ease. He naturally pretends to nothing more than the satisfaction of existing objective possibilities, applying himself, for instance, to the calling which offers sound prospective possibilities in the actual situation in time and place. He tries to do or to make just what his milieu momentarily needs and expects from him, and abstains from every innovation that is not entirely obvious, or that in any way exceeds the expectation of those around him. But on the other hand, his normality must also depend essentially upon whether the extravert takes into account the actuality of his subjective needs and requirements; and this is just his weak point, for the tendency of his type has such a strong outward direction that even the most obvious of all subjective facts, namely the condition of his own body, may quite easily receive inadequate consideration. The body is not sufficiently objective or ‘external,’ so that the satisfaction of simple elementary requirements which are indispensable to physical well-being are no longer given their place. The body accordingly suffers, to say nothing of the soul. Although, as a rule, the extravert takes small note of this latter circumstance, his intimate domestic circle perceives it all the more keenly. His loss of equilibrium is perceived by himself only when abnormal bodily sensations make themselves felt.
These tangible facts he cannot ignore. It is natural he should regard them as concrete and ‘objective’, since for his mentality there exists only this and nothing more—in himself. In others he at once sees “imagination” at work. A too extraverted attitude may actually become so regardless of the subject that the latter is entirely sacrificed to so-called objective claims; to the demands, for instance, of a continually extending business, because orders lie claiming one’s attention or because profitable possibilities are constantly being opened up which must instantly be seized.
This is the extravert’s danger; he becomes caught up in objects, wholly losing himself in their toils. The functional (nervous) or actual physical disorders which result from this state have a compensatory significance, forcing the subject to an involuntary self-restriction. Should the symptoms be functional, their peculiar formation may symbolically express the psychological situation; a singer, for instance, whose fame quickly reaches a dangerous pitch tempting him to a disproportionate outlay of energy, is suddenly robbed of his high tones by a nervous inhibition. A man of very modest beginnings rapidly reaches a social position of great influence and wide prospects, when suddenly he is overtaken by a psychogenic state, with all the symptoms of mountain-sickness. Again, a man on the point of marrying an idolized woman of doubtful character, whose value he extravagantly overestimates, is seized with a spasm of the oesophagus, which forces him to a regimen of two cups of milk in the day, demanding his three-hourly attention. All visits to his fianceé are thus effectually stopped, and no choice is left to him but to busy himself with his bodily nourishment. A man who through his own energy and enterprise has built up a vast business, entailing an intolerable burden of work, is afflicted by nervous attacks of thirst, as a result of which he speedily falls a victim to hysterical alcoholism.
Hysteria is, in my view, by far the most frequent neurosis with the extraverted type. The classical example of hysteria is always characterized by an exaggerated rapport with the members of his circle, and a frankly imitatory accommodation to surrounding conditions. A constant tendency to appeal for interest and to produce impressions upon his milieu is a basic trait of the hysterical nature. A correlate to this is his proverbial suggestibility, his pliability to another person’s influence. Unmistakable extraversion comes out in the communicativeness of the hysteric, which occasionally leads to the divulging of purely phantastic contents; whence arises the reproach of the hysterical lie.
To begin with, the ‘hysterical’ character is an exaggeration of the normal attitude; it is then complicated by compensatory reactions from the side of the unconscious, which manifests its opposition to the extravagant extraversion in the form of physical disorders, whereupon an introversion of psychic energy becomes unavoidable. Through this reaction of the unconscious, another category of symptoms arises which have a more introverted character. A morbid intensification of phantasy activity belongs primarily to this category. From this general characterization of the extraverted attitude, let us now turn to a description of the modifications, which the basic psychological functions undergo as a result of this attitude.
It may perhaps seem odd that I should speak of attitude of the ‘unconscious’. As I have already sufficiently indicated, I regard the relation of the unconscious to the conscious as compensatory. The unconscious, according to this view, has as good a claim to an I attitude’ as the conscious.
In the foregoing section I emphasized the tendency to a certain one-sidedness in the extraverted attitude, due to the controlling power of the objective factor in the course, of psychic events. The extraverted type is constantly tempted to give himself away (apparently) in favour of the object, and to assimilate his subject to the object. I have referred in detail to the ultimate consequences of this exaggeration of the extraverted attitude, viz. to the injurious suppression of the subjective factor. It is only, to be expected, therefore, that a psychic compensation of the conscious extraverted attitude will lay especial weight upon the subjective factor, i.e. we shall have to prove a strong egocentric tendency in the unconscious. Practical experience actually furnishes this proof. I do not wish to enter into a casuistical survey at this point, so must refer my readers to the ensuing sections, where I shall attempt to present the characteristic attitude of the unconscious from the angle of each function-type, In this section we are merely concerned with the compensation of a general extraverted attitude; I shall, therefore, confine myself to an equally general characterization of the compensating attitude of the unconscious.
The attitude of the unconscious as an effective complement to the conscious extraverted attitude has a definitely introverting character. It focusses libido upon the subjective factor, i.e. all those needs and claims which are stifled or repressed by a too extraverted conscious attitude. It may be readily gathered from what has been said in the previous section that a purely objective orientation does violence to a multitude of subjective emotions, intentions, needs, and desires, since it robs them of the energy which is their natural right. Man is not a machine that one can reconstruct, as occasion demands, upon other lines and for quite other ends, in the hope that it will then proceed to function, in a totally different way, just as normally as before. Man bears his age-long history with him in his very structure is written the history of mankind.
The historical factor represents a vital need, to which a wise economy must respond. Somehow the past must become vocal, and participate in the present. Complete assimilation to the object, therefore, encounters the protest of the suppressed minority, elements belonging to the past and existing from the beginning. From this quite general consideration it may be understood why it is that the unconscious claims of the extraverted type have an essentially primitive, infantile, and egoistical character. When Freud says that the unconscious is “only able to wish”, this observation contains a large measure of truth for the unconscious of the extraverted type. Adjustment and assimilation to objective data prevent inadequate subjective impulses from reaching consciousness. These tendencies (thoughts, wishes, affects, needs, feelings, etc.) take on a regressive character corresponding with the degree of their repression, ie. the less they are recognized, the more infantile and archaic they become. The conscious attitude robs them of their relatively disposable energycharge, only leaving them the energy of which it cannot deprive them. This remainder, which still possesses a potency not to be underestimated, can be described only as primeval instinct. Instinct can never be rooted out from an individual by any arbitrary measures; it requires the slow, organic transformation of many generations to effect a radical change, for instinct is the energic [sic] expression of a definite organic foundation.
Thus with every repressed tendency a considerable sum of energy ultimately remains. This sum corresponds with the potency of the instinct and guards its effectiveness, notwithstanding the deprivation of energy which made it unconscious. The measure of extraversion in the conscious attitude entails a like degree of infantilism and archaism in the attitude of the unconscious. The egoism which so often characterizes the extravert’s unconscious attitude goes far beyond mere childish selfishness; it even verges upon the wicked and brutal. It is here we find in fullest bloom that incest-wish described by Freud. It is self-evident that these things are entirely unconscious, remaining altogether hidden from the eyes of the uninitiated observer so long as the extraversion of the conscious attitude does not reach an extreme stage. But wherever an exaggeration of the conscious standpoint takes place, the unconscious also comes to light in a symptomatic form, i.e. the unconscious egoism, infantilism, and archaism lose their original compensatory characters, and appear in more or less open opposition to the conscious attitude. This process begins in the form of an absurd exaggeration of the conscious standpoint, which is aimed at a further repression of the unconscious, but usually ends in a reductio ad absurdum of the conscious attitude, i.e. a collapse. The catastrophe may be an objective one, since the objective aims gradually become falsified by the subjective. I remember the case of a printer who, starting as a mere employé, worked his way up through two decades of hard struggle, till at last he was the independent possessor of a very extensive business. The more the business extended, the more it increased its hold upon him, until gradually every other interest was allowed to become merged in it. At length he was completely enmeshed in its toils, and, as we shall soon see, this surrender eventually proved his ruin. As a sort of compensation to his exclusive interest in the business, certain memories of his childhood came to life. As a child he had taken great delight in painting and drawing. But, instead of renewing this capacity for its own sake as a balancing side-interest, he canalized it into his business and began to conceive ‘artistic’ elaborations of his products. His phantasies unfortunately materialized: he actually began to produce after his own primitive and infantile taste, with the result that after a very few years his business went to pieces. He acted in obedience to one of our ‘civilized ideals’, which enjoins the energetic man to concentrate everything upon the one end in view. But he went too far, and merely fell a victim to the power of his subjective infantile claims.
But the catastrophic solution may also be subjective, i.e. in the form of a nervous collapse. Such a solution always comes about as a result of the unconscious counterinfluence, which can ultimately paralyse conscious action. In which case the claims of the unconscious force themselves categorically upon consciousness, thus creating a calamitous cleavage which generally reveals itself in two ways: either the subject no longer knows what he really wants and nothing any longer interests him, or he wants too much at once and has too keen an interest—but in impossible things. The suppression of infantile and primitive claims, which is often necessary on “civilized” grounds, easily leads to neurosis, or to the misuse of narcotics such as alcohol, morphine, cocaine, etc. In more extreme cases the cleavage ends in suicide.
It is a salient peculiarity of unconscious tendencies that, just in so far as they are deprived of their energy by a lack of conscious recognition, they assume a correspondingly destructive character, and as soon as this happen their compensatory function ceases. They cease to have a compensatory effect as soon as they reach a depth or stratum that corresponds with a level of culture absolutely incompatible with our own. From this moment the unconscious tendencies form a block, which is opposed to the conscious attitude in every respect ; such a bloc inevitably leads to open conflict.
In a general way, the compensating attitude of the unconscious finds expression in the process of psychic equilibrium. A normal extraverted attitude does not, of course, mean that the individual behaves invariably in accordance with the extraverted schema. Even in the same individual many psychological happenings may be observed, in which the mechanism of introversion is concerned. A habitus can be called extraverted only when the mechanism of extraversion predominates. In such a case the most highly differentiated function has a constantly extraverted application, while the inferior functions are found in the service of introversion, i.e. the more valued function, because the more conscious, is more completely subordinated to conscious control and purpose, whilst the less conscious, in other words, the partly unconscious inferior functions are subjected to conscious free choice in a much smaller degree.
The superior function is always the expression of the conscious personality, its aim, its will, and its achievement, whilst the inferior functions belong to the things that happen to one. Not that they merely beget blunders, e.g. lapsus linguae or lapsus calami, but they may also breed half or three-quarter resolves, since the inferior functions also possess a slight degree of consciousness. The extraverted feeling type is a classical example of this, for he enjoys an excellent feeling rapport with his entourage, yet occasionally opinions of an incomparable tactlessness will just happen to him. These opinions have their source in his inferior and subconscious thinking, which is only partly subject to control and is insufficiently related to the object ; to a large extent, therefore, it can operate without consideration or responsibility.
In the extraverted attitude the inferior functions always reveal a highly subjective determination with pronounced egocentricity and personal bias, thus demonstrating their close connection with the unconscious. Through their agency the unconscious is continually coming to light. On no account should we imagine that the unconscious lies permanently buried under so many overlying strata that it can only be uncovered, so to speak, by a laborious process of excavation.
On the contrary, there is a constant influx of the unconscious into the conscious psychological process; at times this reaches such a pitch that the observer can decide only with difficulty which character-traits are to be ascribed to the conscious, and which to the unconscious personality. This difficulty occurs mainly with persons whose habit of expression errs rather on the side of profuseness. Naturally it depends very largely also upon the attitude of the observer, whether he lays hold of the conscious or the unconscious character of a personality. Speaking generally a judging observer will tend to seize the conscious character, while a perceptive observer will be influenced more by the unconscious character, since judgment is chiefly interested in the conscious motivation of the psychic process, while perception tends to register the mere happening. But in so far as we apply perception and judgment in equal measure, it may easily happen that a personality appears to us as both introverted and extraverted, so that we cannot at once decide to which attitude the superior function belongs. In such cases only a thorough analysis of the function qualities can help us to a sound opinion. During the analysis we must observe which function is placed under the control and motivation of consciousness, and which functions have an accidental and spontaneous character. The former is always more highly differentiated than the latter, which also possess many infantile and primitive qualities. Occasionally the former function gives the impression of normality, while the latter have something abnormal or pathological about them.
Complaisance
Trusting
Warm
Friendly
Enthusiastic
Optimistic
Erratic
impulsive
Willing to reveal oneself
Extravagant
Flexible mimicry
A good mixer
Collectivism
For extroversion the reference system is the object and the relation of the subject with the outside world.
We shall now attempt to make the same examination of the inner equivalent of the external manifestations of the extroverted type. The listed characteristics of the extrovert that manifest themselves externally. 3-6 and 8-9. correspond to “inner truths.”to the fact that he is "thick-skinned” and that influences on him do not go very deep; on the contrary, stimuli have little effect on him and there is an inner coldness.
He keeps a safe distance from the object. With Otto Gross one would have to speak of a “shortened secondary function” giving rise to a hunger for stimuli. The "amplitude” of the "primary function” is not high, given the lower tension, and with the extrovert the lower tension reveals itself externally in his relaxed mimicry.
The extroverted type has no great need to form his own opinion, because his is replaced by the large number of perceived stimuli, which, to a certain extent, amount to an externally given opinion. The extrovert’s own emotions are something he takes for granted and he never fully realizes what his own motives are. This is why he is unable to be self-critical and tends to be high-handed and pompous. Because he has an inadequate feeling relationship to the object, he usually underestimates it and this in turn tempts him to flee into the outside world. Whereas the introvert tends to shut himself up with his dominating complex, the extrovert energetically blocks it out. Through extensive adjustment to the objective he is lost to the environment and gets caught up in it. This means that he hardly perceives his inner world and sees it as predominantly negative in the object world (via projection, a subject to which we shall return shortly)
Thus a psychology geared to extroversion is based mainly on objectivity and causality. The most general things will be regarded as the truly valid and everything will be reduced to that. This is why Jung understood Freud's psychology from this extroverted point of view. The introvert, on the other hand, will relate essentially to the "subjective factor" and will thus prefer a psychology corresponding to that of Alfred Adler. So each mode of observation is determined by its own attitude type, and if Freud has such a strong influence in the modem world, this is probably because extroversion is so highly regarded in the West. The typological principle enables us thus to do justice to both Freud and Adler and to make proper use of their forms of therapy.
The extrovert will project his own thick skin onto the introvert, interpreting it as unapproachability, coldness, arrogance, self-interest and egoism. When the “introverted” characteristics happen to him, the following picture will emerge: autoeroticism, doubts about the community, resistance to influence, fear of the collective, depressive psychosis, feelings of loneliness (being closed up with the complex), nihilism. He then avoids anything unpleasant, but suffers from childish insecurity. In a man this can lead to temporary impotence, for he is full of sexual fantasies and yet is frightened of sexuality. Similarly, in a woman there can be temporary frigidity. Further manifestations of the inferior opposite type are: destructive self-criticism, meanness, smallmindedness, pedantry and tyranny. In the extrovert, alcohol can lead to depressive and sullen moods or irritability, as well as the notorious “drunken misery.”
The extraverted individual will feel much more secure when in contact with other people than when alone. If he reflects too long by himself, everything becomes more confused than if he can guide himself by the opinions of others. The extravert will therefore prefer to maintain contact with others for as long as possible, and if he should find himself in an introverted state, he will soon escape from it. The reactions of others assume more precise and more differentiated forms in his consciousness than do his own.
The extravert, when uncertain, conforms to the opinion of other people, and immediately becomes more lively and freer in his activity. Under similar circumstances, the introvert is more inclined to withdraw into himself, seeking a solution there. The way in which they take life may also occasionally lead us to a correct diagnosis as to type. The extravert seeks, above all things, to remain in harmony with his environment; the introvert seeks harmony in himself.
I will for the present confine myself to the different emphases provided by introversion and extraversion. Let us take as an example a strongly extraverted person, so much taken up by all manner of claims and demands from his environment, that his personal life is pushed almost entirely into the background and he neglects his own essential needs. Under such circumstances, it may appear to those in his environment that he is very selfish in all kinds of little things, or that he is continually demanding recognition of special merits. Even his readiness to sacrifice himself and to help may to some extent miss the mark, owing to a certain irritability or arrogance becoming evident. While he himself is serenely convinced that he is living entirely for others, they, other hand, may feel that this adjustment to external demands is not the only principle governing his behavior.
When one's conscious orientation is determined by objective reality, the given facts in the outside world, we can speak of an extraverted attitude. When this is habitual, we have an extraverted type. Jung writes:
Extraversion is characterized by interest in the external object, responsiveness, and a ready acceptance of external happenings, a desire to influence and be influenced by events, a need to join in and get "with it," the capacity to endure bustle and noise of every kind, and actually find them enjoyable, constant attention to the surrounding world, the cultivation of friends and acquaintances, none too carefully selected, and finally by the great importance attached to the figure one cuts, and hence by a strong tendency to make a show of oneself. Accordingly, the extravert's philosophy of life and his ethics are as a rule of a highly collective nature with a strong streak of altruism, and his conscience is in large measure dependent on public opinion. . . . His religious convictions are determined, so to speak, by majority vote.
In general, the extravert trusts what is received from the outside world, and is similarly disinclined to submit personal motives to critical examination.
The actual subject [the extraverted person] is, so far as possible, shrouded in darkness. He hides it from himself under veils of unconsciousness . . . . He has no secrets he has not long since shared with others. Should something unmentionable nevertheless befall him, he prefers to forget it. Anything that might tarnish the parade of optimism and positivism is avoided. Whatever he thinks, intends, and does is displayed with conviction and warmth.
According to Jung, the psychic life of this type is enacted outside, strictly in reaction to the environment:
He lives in and through others; all self-communings give him the creeps. Dangers lurk there which are better drowned out by noise. If he should ever have a "complex," he finds refuge in the social whirl and allows himself to be assured several times a day that everything is in order.
Although these comments seem rather harsh and uncomplimentary, Jung ends his description of the extraverted type with a qualified appreciation: "Provided he is not too much of a busy-body, too pushing, and too superficial, he can be a distinctly useful member of the community."
Jung believed that type differentiation begins very early, "so early that in some cases one must speak of it as innate:"
The earliest sign of extraversion in a child is his quick adaptation to the environment, and the extraordinary attention he gives to objects and especially to the effect he has on them. Fear of objects is minimal; he lives and moves among them with confidence .... and can therefore play with them freely and learn through them. He likes to carry his enterprises to the extreme and exposes himself to risks. Everything unknown is alluring.
Although everyone is unavoidably affected by objective data, the extravert's thoughts, decisions and behavior patterns are actually determined, not simply influenced, by objective conditions rather than subjective views.
The extravert naturally has personal views, but these are subordinated to conditions as they are found in the outer world. The inner life always takes second place to outer necessity. One's whole consciousness is oriented outward, because that is where the essential and decisive determinants come from. Interest and attention are focused on objective events, on things and on other people, usually those in the immediate environment. Jung gives some examples of this type.
St. Augustine: "I would not believe the Gospel if the authority of the Catholic Church did not compel it." A dutiful daughter: "I could not allow myself to think anything that would be displeasing to my father." One man finds a piece of modem music beautiful because everybody else pretends it is beautiful. Another marries in order to please his parents but very much against his own interests. There are people who contrive to make themselves ridiculous in order to amuse others . . . . There are not a few who in everything they do or don't do have but one motive in mind: what will others think of them?
Prevailing moral standards dictate the extravert's personal standpoint. If the mores change, the extravert adjusts his views and behavior patterns to match. His capacity and inclination to adjust, to fit in with existing external conditions, is both his strength and his limitation. His tendency is so outer-directed that in general he will not pay much attention even to his own body—until it breaks down. The body itself is not sufficiently objective or "outside" to merit attention, hence the satisfaction of elementary needs indispensable to physical well-being is easily overlooked.
Not only the body suffers, but the psyche as well. The former becomes apparent in physical symptoms that even the extravert cannot ignore, the latter in aberrant moods and behavior patterns that may be obvious only to others.
Extraversion is an obvious asset in social situations, and in responding to external requirements. But a too extraverted attitude may unknowingly sacrifice the subject in order to fulfil what it sees as objective demands—the needs of others, for instance, or the many requirements of an expanding business. "This is the extravert's danger," notes Jung. "He gets sucked into objects and completely loses himself in them. The resultant functional disorders, nervous or physical, have a compensatory value, as they force him into an involuntary self-restraint."
The form of neurosis most likely to afflict the extravert is hysteria. This typically manifests as a pronounced identification with persons in the immediate environment and an adjustment to external conditions that amounts to imitation.
Hysterics will go to great lengths to be interesting to other people and to produce a good impression. They are noticeably suggestible, overly influenced by others and effusive storytellers to the point of fantastically distorting the truth.
Hysterical neurosis begins as an exaggeration of all the usual characteristics of extraversion, and then is complicated by compensatory reactions from the unconscious. These latter counteract the exaggerated extraversion through symptoms that force the individual to introvert. This in turn constellates the extravert's inferior introversion and produces another set of symptoms, the most typical being morbid fantasy activity and the fear of being alone.
The extravert's tendency is to sacrifice inner reality to outer circumstances. This is not a problem so long as the extraversion is not too extreme. But to the extent that it becomes necessary to compensate the inclination to one-sidedness, there will arise an unconscious exaggeration of the subjective factor, namely, a markedly self-centered tendency in the unconscious.
All those needs or desires that are stifled or repressed by the conscious attitude come in the back door, so to speak, in the form of primitive and infantile thoughts and emotions that center on oneself.
The extravert's adjustment to objective reality effectively prevents low-powered subjective impulses from reaching consciousness. The repressed impulses, however, do not thereby lose their energy; only since they are unconscious they will manifest in primitive and archaic ways. As more and more subjective needs are suppressed or ignored, the build-up of unconscious energy works to undermine the conscious attitude.
The danger here is that the extravert, so habitually—and apparently selflessly—attuned to the outside world and the needs of other people, may in fact become completely indifferent. Writes Jung:
The more complete the conscious attitude of extraversion is, the more infantile and archaic the unconscious attitude will be. The egoism which characterizes the extravert's unconscious attitude goes far beyond mere childish selfishness; it verges on the ruthless and brutal.
Whenever the unconscious becomes overactive, it comes to light in symptomatic form. The egoism, infantilism and primitivism, normally a healthy compensation and relatively harmless, in extreme cases spurs consciousness to absurd exaggeration aimed at further repression of the unconscious.
The eventual blowup may take an objective form, as one's outer activities become thwarted or colored by subjective considerations. Jung tells of a printer who worked his way up until after years of struggle he became the owner of a thriving business. As it expanded it tightened his hold on him. Finally it swallowed up all his other interests. Then, in unconscious compensation for his one-sidedness, childhood memories of his great delight in painting and drawing came to life. But instead of renewing this activity as a hobby that would nicely complement his business concerns, he incorporated it into his business by embellishing his products artistically. Since his taste was primitive and infantile, his business ended in ruins.
The result can also, or instead, be of a subjective nature—a nervous breakdown. This is likely to happen when the influence of the unconscious finally paralyzes conscious action:
The demands of the unconscious then force themselves imperiously on consciousness and bring about a disastrous split which shows itself in one of two ways: either the subject no longer knows what he really wants and nothing interests him, or he wants too much at once and has too many interests, but in impossible things. The suppression' of infantile and primitive demands for cultural reasons easily leads to a neurosis or to the abuse of narcotics such as alcohol, morphine, cocaine, etc. In more extreme cases the split ends in suicide.
In general, the compensating attitude of the unconscious works to maintain psychic equilibrium. Hence even the individual who is normally extraverted will at times function in an introverted way. As long as the extraverted attitude predominates, however, the most developed function will manifest in an extraverted way, while the inferior functions will be moreor less introverted.
The superior function is always an expression of the conscious personality, of its aims, will, and general performance, whereas the less differentiated functions fall into the category of things that simply "happen" to one.
A good example of this is the extraverted feeling type who normally enjoys a close rapport with other people, yet occasionally voices opinions or makes remarks that are noticeably tactless. He may offer condolences at a wedding and congratulations at a funeral. Such gaffes come from inferior thinking, the fourth function, which in this type is not under conscious control and therefore not well related to others.
The unconscious regularly manifests through the less differentiated functions, which in the extravert have a subjective coloring and egocentric bias. Moreover, as mentioned above in the introduction, the constant influx of unconscious con- tents into the conscious psychological process is such that it is often difficult for an observer to tell which functions belong to the conscious and which to the unconscious personality. As Jung points out, this is further confused by the observer's own psychology:
Generally speaking, a judging observer [thinking or feeling type] will tend to seize on the conscious character, while a perceptive observer [sensation type or intuitive] will be more influenced by the unconscious character, since judgment is chiefly concerned with the conscious motivation of the psychic process, while perception registers the process itself.
In deciding to which attitude the superior function belongs, therefore, one must closely observe which function is more or less completely under conscious control, and which functions have a haphazard or random character. The superior function—if there is one at all—is always more highly developed than the others, which invariably possess infantile and primitive traits. In addition, one must always be mindful of one's own typological predisposition, which inevitably colors all observations.