Introverted intuition (Ni) plays one of eight different archetypal roles, depending on which of the 16 personality types you have. This is per Jungian analyst John Beebe’s 8 function personality type model.

First we’ll take a look at intuition and Ni in general terms.

As Jung described in Psychological Types, Intuition, like sensation, is a perceiving function:

“The primary function of intuition, however, is simply to transmit images, or perceptions of relations between things, which could not be transmitted by the other functions or only in a very limited way.”

According to J. Newman: “While sensation is intimately tied to bodily experience (and emotions), intuition is predominantly a mental function, allowing for the perception, not of physical realities, but of symbolic images, ideas and abstractions. These contents of the intuitive process form the basis of mental experience. Intuition is, thus, an “intellectual” process.”

Regarding Ni specifically, Jung said: “It does not concern itself with external possibilities but with what the external object has released within.” And: “introverted intuition perceives all the background processes of consciousness with almost the same distinctness as extraverted sensation registers external objects. For intuition, therefore, unconscious images acquire the dignity of things. But, because intuition excludes the co-operation of sensation . . . . the images appear as though detached from the subject, as though existing in themselves without any relation to him.”

Now let us consider the archetypes of Ni. Below is my distillation of John Beebe’s descriptions

These archetypes are just sketches and aren’t meant to be literal. They depict complexes, so therefore are qualitative.

No function ever acts separately from the other functions. Jung said we al most never see a pure form of a function. We consider a function in order to better understand the whole of the personality.

This is part 4 of 8 in the series. Part five will be about Extroverted Feeling (Fe). Stay tuned!

My other articles in the series:

The 8 archetypes of Extroverted Sensation

The 8 archetypes of Introverted Sensation

The 8 archetypes of Extroverted Intuition

The 8 archetypes of Extroverted Feeling

This archetypal circle, when imagined as moving in a counterclockwise direction, is a metaphor for how the creative process uses every aspect of typology.

Note how the process both begins and ends with ST. ST is often maligned in modern typology, and therefore might not be what first comes to mind when thinking about creativity. Yet here it is the cornerstone.

Here are the questions each of the four quadrants asks, according to Mary McCaulley, the psychologist who helped Isabel Myers bring MBTI to fruition:

ST asks “what is it?”

SF asks “what matters?”

NF asks “what might be?”

NT asks “how might it all fit?”

ST kicks off the process. SF is the incubator, followed by the breakthrough in the NF dimension of the soul. Then the NT magician brings the vision to fruition, and hands it back to ST for the practical application.

All four of these quadrants can be at work within one person. Jungian analyst John Giannini said “We must all have our own inner archetypal ideal as King or Queen, our own inner Magician as mentor, our own inner Warrior as a stimulus to achievement, and our own inner Lover as a teacher of intimacy.”

The quadrant opposite your type will be the most challenging. For example, NT will have the most difficulty with SF.

Sometimes the creative process will involve multiple people or a partnership, and can help keep us from remaining mired and spinning our wheels in our quadrant. Awareness of which of the four quadrants the other people fall in will make the process flow more smoothly.

Giannini said dream work also proceeds in this circular direction: “Life poses a question, we sleep on it, then the answer emerges as a spontaneous and emotionally filled ream image in the NF quadrant. In waking life, we are then challenged to integrate the dream into a large NT vision.”

As I said in a previous post, typology these days emphasizes a linear view of the cognitive functions. But for Jung they were a circle. We can’t be rigid in how we view the creative potential of the Soul, yet, as Giannini said, “its counterclockwise direction seems to be a necessary containing requisite.”

Source: Compass of the Soul: an archetypal guide to a fuller life by John L. Giannini, chapter 6.

It’s pretty much a given that personality tests aren’t consistently reliable.

Yet figuring your type out on your own isn’t so easy either. When Jung created the psychological types, he didn’t use a test. He and the first generation Jungian analysts worked with their clients one-on-one; an analysis typically takes several years.

Jungian analyst Daryl Sharp highlighted some of the problems with type tests in his book Personality Types: Jung’s Model of Typology:

“Type tests do not show the extent to which one’s type may have been falsified or perverted by familial and environmental factors; they say nothing about the way in which one’s usual way of functioning may be determined by complexes; and they do not reflect the ever-present compensating attitude of the unconscious. Typically, it is the persona that takes the test. In addition, the person taking the test may be using one of the secondary or auxiliary functions to answer the questions—or indeed, responding out of the shadow or persona. Above all, type tests do not take into account the experiential reality that a person’s typological preferences can change over time.”

Above all, there should be one thing central to the typing process: prolonged self-reflection. Or, as Jung called it, “self-communing:”

Not everyone has the opportunity to work with a Jungian analyst or a typologist. So here are some questions Sharp suggests that one reflect upon:

What do I habitually do most?

What is my greatest cross?

From what do I suffer the most?

Where is it in life that I always knock my head against the wall and feel foolish?

Sharp says: ” The answers to such questions generally lead to the inferior attitude and function, which then, with some determination and a good deal of patience, may perhaps be brought to a degree of consciousness.”

It’s refreshing to take a break from modern forms of personality types for a bit, with their pesky cognitive functions and whatnot, and look at things from the perspective of ancient philosophies. With Pooh thrown in for good measure, of course, so we don’t take things too seriously.

Plato in the fourth century BCE came up with the four elements theory. Around 300 BCE the Stoics embraced this theory. First century philosopher Seneca described Stoic temperament theory as follows:

“There are four elements – fire, water, air, and earth – with matching properties – hot, cold, dry, and moist. […] The same distinctions are valid for animals and humans: it makes a difference how much moisture and heat each individual has within him; the element that predominates in him will determine his characteristic behaviors.”

He said that fiery people are prone to anger, whereas wet, dry, or cold temperaments can be panicky and contrarian.

I also added Hippocrates’ terms of melancholic, phlegmatic, sanguine, and choleric to the infographic.

But let’s get to Pooh. Which Pooh character best represents your personality? By the way, Pooh is in the middle because he represents all four types. Pooh is fully actualized!

Carl Jung had a circular view of the personality, as you can see from his drawing below of the four functions as a compass:

That’s because Taoism strongly influenced the development of Jung’s typology. The Chinese concept of the Tao is based on polar opposites and is the “reconciler of all opposites.” It has a circular and polar view of the soul, as did Jung.

Jung was also a Judeo-Christian. There was no conflict between his Western spirituality and his Eastern spirituality. As a scientist he wanted to explore all options available for healing his patients.He regarded spirituality as the primary underlying principle in psychology.

He discovered Taoism while recovering from his break with Freud. As he developed typology, it was with an emphasis on understanding the differences between people. He wanted to find the unity that compensated for the wide diversity in people, to both accept and transcend opposites, which led him to the Tao.

A Taoist approach to typology differs from the linear view of growth we tend to have when working with typology. We “work” on our inferior function. But as Jungian analyst John Giannini wrote, the Taoist approach “means surrendering some aspects of a dominant function or coupling, and learning to value the other types in your personal compass of the Soul…Like Taoism, typology challenges us to live a full life in which conscious success must be balanced by a ‘rekindling of humility in the face of the Self.”

Here is what Jung said about the compass:

“The four functions are somewhat like the four points of the compass; they are just as arbitrary and just as indispensable. Nothing prevents our shifting the cardinal points as many degrees as we like in one direction or the other, or giving them different names. It is merely a question of convention and intelligibility. But one thing I must confess: I would not for anything dispense with this compass on my psychological voyages of discovery.”