On the Evolution of Intimacy

I’ve proposed that love in the future will require us to think more deeply about love’s workings than has been necessary in times past. I’ve also proposed that we need to think more deeply about identity, including gender identity. There are ways in which thinking deeply about identity is not at all new—it is what philosophers have done for centuries, and it is the stock-in-trade of psychologists. But as we shall see, with gender, as with love, in the end the task is not just to think more deeply, but to think in some fundamentally new ways.

We’ve made a start. I’ve pointed toward how the polarized perceptions of times past have resulted in distorted pictures of gender and gender differences. And later I will take such observations considerably further. In Chapter Four, we will look at how the way cultural systems evolve lets us both understand why we have viewed gender in the polarized ways we have and why at different times those polarized interpretations have taken the various forms we have seen.

With this chapter, I introduce a way of thinking that will provide both essential beginning insights and a foundation for these later, more in-depth reflections. Of particular significance for this inquiry, the approach we will draw on lets us begin to address a question that becomes obviously important once we recognize that the polarized perceptions of times past are not enough: Just how are men and women in fact different? Just what are we left with when we step beyond the mythologized projections of times past?

Certainly there are biological differences, and by virtue of particular biology-specific activities we engage in, such as bearing children, we may have different life experiences. But my question has more to do with what we might conventionally think of as psychological differences. Are men and women different in terms of values, attitudes, beliefs, and emotional responses? I’ve suggested that men and women are much less natively different than we tend to assume. But just as important is recognizing real differences. These are differences of a normative sort—there is great variation between individuals. But making sense of such differences provides valuable insight.

The simple observation that we find normative differences between men and women can be controversial. Contemporary academic thought, with its postmodern learnings, can claim that psychological differences, if they exist at all, are products only of conditioning, of the different ways boys and girls are raised. Indeed, it is possible in academia today to lose one’s job simply for suggesting the existence of differences of a more fundamental sort. But the fact of differences seems obvious to most people. Most people who spend much time around young children, for example, would not find at all persuasive the conclusion that all we need is upbringing to explain apparent differences.

The more systemic vantage I will draw on here helps us appreciate such differences and their implications. In the process, it will also help us appreciate why more simplistic ways of thinking about identity and gender—whether the polarized assumptions of times past or some postmodern unisex ideal—inevitably leave us short. In addition, it will provide important preparation for addressing how our experience of differences has evolved over the course of history and teasing apart specific challenges that men and women confront in our times.

The concept of gender archetype provides the basic language for the approach we will draw on. The notion has been best articulated in modern times by psychiatrist Carl Jung and will be familiar to many people with a psychological background. Jung proposed that we each have more masculine and more feminine aspects and described how we see the workings of these counterpoised forces in fairy tales, in myth, and also in spiritual practices and philosophical thought.¹

In Chapter Four, we will examine how CST invites us to think more complexly not just about how these forces interplay, but also about why we might see them in the first place. For now, I will observe simply that we can usefully think of some of the “crayons” in the systemic box I described in the previous chapter as more “archetypally masculine,” and others as more “archetypally feminine.”

I include the somewhat clumsy adjective “archetypal” in describing these qualities to avoid confusing tendencies in this sense with the common assumption that some qualities are male and others female. Again, men and women each embody both kinds of tendency. A man or a woman might have more archetypally masculine or more archetypally feminine characteristics regardless of their gender, depending on their personality style, The balance in a man may be more archetypally feminine than in the average woman, and that in a woman more archetypally masculine than in the average man. In Chapter Six, we will examine not just how this is the case, but why this can be what we find.

There are simpler ways to talk about what I am here calling archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine. For example, I often speak of more “right-hand” and more “left-hand” psychological aspects. We could also use more everyday language and talk about qualities that are “harder” or “softer.” But the language of gender archetype, besides helping us think with particular nuance about difference, also points toward essential conceptual insights. Later I will describe how it highlights the important recognition that there is something inherently “procreative” in how polar opposites relate (and ultimately in how human intelligence is structured).

To bring needed nuance to our examination of archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine tendencies, we need to start with an observation I first made in my 1984 book The Creative Imperative. We can think of these tendencies as having both “horizontal” and “vertical” aspects.² Horizontal aspects are more interpersonal. We can think of them as contrasting more expressive (archetypally masculine) and more receptive (archetypally feminine) dimensions of experience. Vertical aspects have more to do with how we relate to ourselves, both as individuals and as social systems. More vertical archetypally masculine aspects emphasize ascent—preeminence and standing tall. More vertical archetypally feminine aspects address the ground of being, both in its foundational and more generative dimensions.

CST uses the simple terms Upper Pole and Lower Pole to describe the archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine dimensions of the vertical. It speaks of Outer and Inner creative aspects to refer to the archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine dimensions of the horizontal.

Drawing on this more filled-out picture of gender archetype will take us a long way toward understanding gender and gender differences in the more complete ways our times require. Such understanding starts with a recognition that follows directly from the fact of projection. The polarized perceptions of times past have had us confuse gender with gender archetype. It continues with the recognition that the particular forms such polarized perceptions have taken, whether they manifest in more vertical or more horizontal ways, have followed predictably from how culture has evolved.

One gender archetype—related observation is particularly important to note in getting started. It provides essential insight for understanding both current circumstances and challenges ahead for us as a species. In our time, we find it much easier to understand archetypally masculine qualities than we do qualities of a more archetypally feminine sort— whether more horizontal or more vertical.

For example, today we commonly confuse the receptive with simply being passive. In fact, the receptive, when experienced deeply, is fully as active—in the sense of being dynamic and creative—as is the expressive. And while we don’t have a problem understanding the role of standing tall in authority, my reference to “the ground of being” as an equally important aspect of the vertical, even with explanation, might still seem obscure, and even a bit mysterious. Later we will look at how we find just the opposite to be the case if we go back far enough in history. With culture’s beginnings, the archetypally feminine played the more defining role, and while still by its nature less explicit, got much the greater attention.³

But I am getting ahead of myself. We need first to engage the necessary preliminary step of better understanding gender archetype as I will be using the term. The brief descriptions that follow give voice to archetypally masculine and feminine gender archetypes in their various more vertical and horizontal manifestations.

With these descriptions, I’ve often drawn directly on observations from The Creative Imperative. I’ve done so only in part because that is where I’ve addressed the archetypally masculine and the archetypally feminine most specifically in my work. It is also because I chose to write The Creative Imperative with a style that consciously gave equal emphasis to the archetypally masculine and the archetypally feminine. The book can be thought of as equal parts prose and poetry. In crafting it, I attempted to draw with equal measure on the more rational aspects of intelligence that best give voice to the archetypally masculine and the less visible, more imaginal, emotional, and bodily aspects of intelligence that better voice the archetypally feminine (and which we are less used to associating with observations of a “theoretical” sort). Each description below includes a few quotations followed by some introductory reflections, each adapted from The Creative Imperative.⁴

Aspects that are more horizontal come alive in relationships with others. The archetypally masculine manifests here in expressive dynamics—in the thrust of a sword, in a well-chosen word, in a song sung powerfully. When we use words like “assertive” or “confrontative” we are referring to this aspect of the archetypally masculine.

A few quotes that reflect this aspect:

When I am a man then I shall be a hunter.

When I am a man then I shall be a harpooner.

When I am a man then I shall be a canoe-builder.

When I am a man then I shall be a carpenter.

When I am a man then I shall be an artisan.

Oh father! ya hahaha.

—A Kwakiutl song

“Who are we as the expressive? Much of it is quite ‘straightforward.’ Our concern is with acting and doing. Myth offers us some good beginning images. The expressive embodies symbolically as the hero, and specifically as the hero’s more active aspect. This active aspect can personify in an infinity of forms—the warrior, the poet, the inventor, the magician—but the essential quality is quite specific: the capacity to penetrate reality.

“Our colloquial language is rich with figures of speech that depict the expressive. Some simply describe movement outward, or how movement outward engages another’s reality. We speak of ‘getting through to someone,’ of ‘making a point’ or ‘an impression,’ of ‘getting something across,’ or ‘speaking out.’ Others emphasize the finality intrinsic to expression: we ‘put our cards on the table.’ Many such figures of speech give voice to the inherent vulnerability of expression. We speak of ‘going out on a limb,’ or of ‘putting ourselves on the line.’”

The forms expression takes can be subtle, as can what expression requires to manifest. A favorite quote from Cooper Eden’s children’s book Remember the Night Rainbow counsels us that “If your heart catches in your throat … ask a bird how she sings.” It is also the case that expression is ultimately more than just a matter of choice. The Gnostic Gospels remind us that “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.” (Gospel of Thomas, 14.29-33)

Horizontally, the archetypally feminine manifests in receptive dynamics: in acts not just of listening but of hearing, in being aroused by or moved by, in aesthetic perception. When we see someone “taking in” experience or offering “invitation,” we are witnessing the receptive. As with the horizontal aspect of the archetypally masculine, this complementary horizontal aspect of the archetypally feminine similarly often comes most alive in relationships with others.

A few quotes that give this aspect voice:

And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes

and then he asked me would I yes …

and first I put my arms around him yes

and I drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes

and his heart going like mad

and yes I said yes I will yes.

—James Joyce

“Since it won’t be possible to define the receptive by ‘making a point,’ I’ll draw on a couple of images. The first comes from the legend of King Arthur. With his sword broken in battle, Arthur is led by Merlin to the shore of a small body of water. In it lives the beautiful Lady of the Lake. From her, Arthur receives the mighty sword Excalibur, with which he will found the great Round Table, and its scabbard. The sword is broad and sharp, embellished in gold. Engraved on one side are the words ‘take me,’ on the other, ‘cast me away.’

“Standing before him, Merlin asks Arthur which he likes better, the sword or the scabbard. The sword is Arthur’s quick choice. To this Merlin responds, ‘In that you are unwise. Excalibur is a good sword, the best in the world. But the scabbard is worth far more. For however sorely you are beset in battle, you will not lose a drop of blood as long as you have the scabbard with you ….’

“The second image is from the beloved European folktale of Beauty and the Beast. We engage the story as Beauty, having run many hours through the entangled forest, finds the Beast outside his castle, his breath gone, the spell having done its evil work. Through her tears, moved by the love that has grown within, she embraces his terrible image. At that moment, the interminable spell that has imprisoned the prince is broken ….”

It can be easiest to make reference to this aspect of our power by saying what it is not, or by suggesting it indirectly. We frequently use sensory metaphors, though the five senses may not literally be central. We may say we “got a taste” of or “drank in” an experience, that we “saw” what someone was saying, or that we were “touched” or “moved” by the depth of a person’s response. Frequently our words reflect the surrender of control intrinsic to the receptive moment. We speak of being amazed (from the same root as “maze”) or being “taken” by an experience. Our words may reflect the letting down of boundaries, a recognition that we had let ourselves be “open,” or that another person had “gotten through to us.” Or they may describe our bodily experience when we do, such as feelings of warmth and responsiveness, or of being “turned on.”

What is it we derive from the receptive? If the “purpose” of the expressive is to actively have an effect, how might we best describe that of the receptive? Perhaps the simplest way to say it is that our receptivity is the way we derive our human sustenance. We are fed by each aspect of real contact that we allow. When our “diet” is appropriate and sufficient, our life feels “full;” when it is not, we hunger.

To receive is always a vulnerable thing. We are inviting another to enter a room in our psychic house, knowing that with this visit, the room will never again be quite the same. And there is no guarantee that what is offered by the visitor will be positive. It could be that this visitor comes on false pretenses, intending only to rob or violate. As with expression, receptivity is always in the end a leap into the unknown. Ultimately, we can never be sure what the effect of an act of receiving will be until we have risked it. Yet how fully alive we are is precisely a function of how deeply we can engage doing so.

It is important to appreciate how deeply this aspect of who we are can confuse and elude us. By its nature the receptive is invisible—often we know it is there only by what becomes visible in its presence. It is an elusiveness dramatically amplified in our time by how distanced most people are today from receptive sensibilities.⁵

Yet, ultimately, the receptive is just as much a reflection of power as the expressive. Indeed, in many circumstances it is where the greater power lies. The Chinese sage Lao Tzu reminds us that “The softest thing in the universe overcomes the hardest thing in the universe.” And as with the expressive, there is an important sense in which the receptive is more than just a matter of choice. I like these words from John Stuart Mill: “We must neglect nothing that could give the truth a chance to reach us.”

To fully grasp the archetypally masculine and the archetypally feminine, we also need to include their more vertical manifestations. In the vertical, the archetypally masculine manifests in the dynamics of ascent: think of the crown on the head of a king or queen, the crafting of an abstract idea, the construction of a great building, or a rocket headed into space. When we stand and take ownership in our lives we are giving emphasis to the ascendant aspect of experience. Ascent is about the power of above as opposed to the power of below.

A few quotes that give this aspect voice:

“What is it that each new ascendant impulse offers that was not there before? First, ascent gives us perspective. With it, we rise above, find a place that allows us to see the forest where before we could see only trees. Second, it gives new form and substance to our reality. To ascend is at once to climb a mountain, and to be creating that mountain. Each new act of standing tall offers a leap in monumentality and complexity. And third, it offers us authority and autonomy. To grow up is to define our natures as distinct.

“Our cultural images for ascent and the ascendant trace a proud and dramatic lineage: the primitive’s great bird of the spirit; the Greek sun god Helios or Apollo, driving each day across the heavens in a chariot with four great horses; Odin, wise and omnipotent, sitting on his throne in the upper branches of Yggdrasil (an eagle beside him, a crown on his head); the mountain as home of the divine—Qaf, Olympus, Sinai; the word as God; the uplifting spire of a European cathedral, Middle Eastern mosque, or Asian stupa; the firmament of heaven; the lifted transept of the Latin cross; the nation as flag; Washington, Napoleon, Churchill; Newton’s laws of motion; the Bill of Rights; the Empire State Building; the first human walking on the surface of the moon.”

Key recognitions about ascent are essential to fully grasping its significance. William Blake emphasized the close relationship between ascent and awareness with these words: “Awake, Awake, O sleeper of the land of shadows, awake.” There is also how ascent is inseparable from responsibility. I think of these reflections from Martin Buber: “He has stepped out of the glowing darkness of chaos into the cool light of creation. But he does not possess it yet: he must first draw it truly out, he must make it into a reality for himself, he must find his own world by seeing, hearing, touching, and shaping it.” And as with other aspects, ascent is not simply a matter of choice. A traditional song of the Bahamas announces: “Oh children, no grave could’ve keep that body down. Ain’t no grave gonna keep that body down. When the trumpet sound ….”

As with the receptive in the horizontal, the archetypally feminine aspect of the vertical confronts us with dimensions of our human power that are less explicit, and also less easily recognized in our time, indeed easily missed entirely. And, again, they are essential. In the ground of being, we find nurturance and sustenance and also the germinal beginnings of things. In addition, we find what, in our learning to stand tall, gives us something to stand upon.

Vertical aspects of the archetypally feminine manifest in our connectedness with nature, in religious imagery such as that of the Madonna holding the Christ child, and in the body’s contribution both as the starting point of life’s erotic impulses and the foundation of our being. In Chapter Four, we will see how the way we experience the ground of our being, as with each polar tendency, is not a single thing, but an evolving dynamic that takes us through a sequence of markedly different experiential realities.

A few quotes that reflect this aspect:

The spirit of the valley … is called the mysterious female,

The fate of the mysterious female

is called the root of heaven and earth,

Dimly visible, it seems as if it were scarcely there,

Yet use will never drain it.

— Lao Tzu

“In the ‘ground’ of our being, we find the power of mystery. Through our relationship with it, we experience the fact of our generativity and the ‘foundation’ of our existence. When this relationship is right and timely, it imbues life with such qualities as belonging, playfulness, rootedness, passion, and compassion.

“In the earliest stages in any creative process, this ‘nothing’ that is at once something is reality’s predominant force. Here we encounter a secret shared by the very old and the very young. It is the place into which we die and from which we are born. It is from here that we know the eternal magic of things. In ancient Celtic myth it is the Ti-nanog, the place that existed before the beginning of time. Winter rituals often pay homage to its deep mysteries.”

The lower pole of the vertical is also where we find the erotic. This is so equally in men and in women. It is also where we find deep connection in nature. The erotic and the wild are key to who we are. And at the same time, encountering them may not be comfortable. They are always as much about destruction as creation.

An additional recognition that we will explore in detail in Chapter Four is important to making sense of developmental processes and also to grasping cultural dynamics that can easily be misunderstood. At a certain point in any creative process, we necessarily push away from this part of ourselves. This is equally so if our creative concern is a simple creative act like writing a book, individual development over the course of a lifetime, or the evolution of culture. Greek philosopher Ostanes described the progression this way: “Nature rejoices in nature. Nature subdues nature. Nature rules over nature.” At the very least, we lose conscious contact with much of the potency of this part of ourselves. A Jewish saying observes that “in the mother’s body, man knows the universe, in life he forgets it.”

Later, we will see how this pushing-away dynamic provides explanation for how difficult it can be to make sense of the archetypally feminine in our time. It also helps us make sense of some of the lessthan-positive ways men and women have viewed each other, and acted toward each other, at different times in history.

Most immediately this look at experience through the lens of gender archetype helps highlight the richness and fecundity of human experience. But as I’ve suggested, these at once theoretical and poetic reflections also help us with the question of gender differences.

We gain initial insight by recognizing that gender archetypes have served as the templates for our polarized concepts of gender. In projecting, it has been gender archetypes that we projected. This recognition helps clarify an earlier observation critical to making sense of the absolutist gender beliefs of times past. I’ve proposed that historically we’ve confused gender with gender archetype. More precisely, our concepts of gender have been based on projected idealized/mythologized archetypal images and qualities. In Chapter Four, we will look at how our beliefs about gender differences through time have reflected the particular ways that gender archetype has manifested and been projected at specific points in the evolution of culture.

That helps us with history. But we are left with making sense of just what we find when we step beyond the past’s projections and mythologizings. Just how does our picture of gender and gender differences change with culturally mature perspective?

I’ve touched previously on one part of the answer. With culturally mature perspective, we are better able to recognize how men and women each embody both archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine characteristics. Using our box-of-crayons image, with Whole-Person identity we better appreciate how men and women each have both archetypally masculine and feminine aspects.

This recognition might easily have us question whether there really are differences. If we are each composed of the same basic ingredients, wouldn’t we then be essentially the same? But when we look closely, this is not what we find. The result is obviously more nuanced.

At the least we still live in different kinds of bodies. Given how the different-strokes-for-different-folks assumptions of postmodern belief and related techno-utopian notions each point toward what is, in effect, a disembodied future, the fact that we have different kinds of bodies might seem of diminishing significance. But this can’t ultimately be our direction going forward. A key characteristic of Cultural Maturity’s changes, one we will more closely examine shortly, is that they help us get more in touch with the body as experience.

We gain further insight by turning to the question of relative balance. While necessarily here we are dealing with generalities, it turns out that these generalities have great usefulness. We find greater individual variation once we leave behind polarized expectations, but we also recognize normative differences—I think of about a 60/40 balance relative to gender. Men on average tend to embody a bit more of the archetypally masculine, both its horizontal and vertical aspects; women tend on average to embody somewhat more of the archetypally feminine.

A simple way to see this 60/40 balance is to look at men’s and women’s bodies. Note that vertically men tend to carry their center of balance somewhat higher in the body, in the chest and shoulders, and women somewhat lower, in the pelvis and thighs. More horizontally, even with the same amount of exertion and conditioning, men’s bodies tend to be a bit harder to the touch and women’s a bit softer. A person could dismiss these observations as “just physical.” But as CST makes clear, the notion that anything is just physical is more a product of our time in culture than how things actually work. Any “psychological” concept within CST’s culturally mature formulations is, in the end, a mind/body concept.

Some of the writers who are most often cited by students of women’s issues make reference to this kind of difference. For example, in her powerfully influential book In a Different Voice, psychologist Carol Gilligan, drawing on her studies of moral development in children, spoke of male experience in terms of “a self defined more through separation” and female experience in terms of “a self defined more by connection.”⁶ Linguist Deborah Tannen reached similar conclusions in her bestselling book You Just Don’t Understand: Women and Men in Conversation in contrasting how women are more apt to use communication to establish social bonds and men are more apt to use communication to solve problems.⁷

This recognition of normative differences, while it requires that we think in ways that we may not be used to, can also be powerfully freeing. It simultaneously takes us beyond history’s polarized expectations and unisex notions that in their own ways can be just as constraining. Suddenly our gender options become multitude. And our task in relationship to gender becomes newly clear and obvious: to simply be as authentically ourselves as we are able.

While this way of thinking about gender differences gets us beyond much that before has been controversial, it doesn’t escape controversy entirely. I’ve noted that simply claiming that differences exist can be controversial in some circles. And implications when it comes to more specific gender-related questions can arouse intense feelings even among those who might not have any difficulty with the basic conclusion that I’ve proposed.

Current debates about equality in the workplace provide a good example. Equal opportunity and equal pay for equal work are unquestionably important goals. But we often hear it implied that the only possible explanation if we find gender differences in a profession is discrimination. Very often, discrimination is the major factor. But the recognition that we see normative differences also opens the door to other possibilities. For example, it suggests that choice too can play a role.

Some jobs are going be more appealing to those with more of the archetypally masculine in their makeup, others more attractive to those who most manifest the archetypally feminine. That will be the case for both men and women. But if the idea of a 60/40 normative balance is accurate, there are going to be normative differences too in the jobs men and women are drawn to. Fifty years from now, while differences will likely be much less extreme than what we see today, even if discrimination with regard to job opportunity is totally eliminated, in most professions discrepancies will likely remain. I suspect we will still see more men firefighters, computer engineers, and race car drivers. And nurses and teachers of young children will likely still more often be women.

This kind of observation has implications beyond just job preference. It extends to how a person’s balance of more archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine characteristics may influence more general life choices. A surprising outcome we find in Nordic countries— where gender equality is highest and best supported by social policy— is provocative in this regard. We see fewer women senior business managers, not more.⁸ It appears that when women are given more choices, many will find the rat race not where they want to spend their lives. Framing these results in terms of gender archetype helps get beyond thinking only in terms of men and women. It may be that when people with more of the archetypally feminine in their makeup are given more choices, they may choose a different kind of life.

I’ve noted that culturally mature perspective confronts ideological correctnesses of both the political left and the political right. These reflections on gender, the workplace, and more general life choices provide good example. Those on the Left are likely to bristle at any suggestion that differences are not simply a product of discrimination. Those on the Right are more likely to feel there is something sacred in traditional roles. Framing what we see in terms of gender archetype and cultural evolution offers the possibility of thinking in more nuanced ways. In Chapter Six, I will describe how the recognition that personality style differences reflect different balances and relationships of archetypal qualities further fills out this picture by helping us better think in terms of individual variation.

This chapter’s examination of archetypal qualities can assist us in additional ways beyond just helping us better address gender and gender differences. It points toward important more general recognitions key to the needed “new common sense.”

A first recognition should now be obvious. Each of the archetypal tendencies I’ve described represents a particular kind of power. In modern times, we’ve tended to associate power almost exclusively with the archetypally masculine. It is essential that we appreciate how the archetypally feminine is not just power, but a critical kind of power.

A second recognition addresses a key question implied by the first: Which kind of power is most important? It turns out that the answer depends on where and when we look. Where the greatest influence lies depends on the context. For example, the archetypally masculine tends to have greater influence with more in-the-world concerns such as in the traditional workplace (this for both men and women). The archetypally feminine tends to have greater influence in the home and with family (irrespective of who “wears the pants.”) In relationships, it may appear that the masculine has the greater say (as with the assumption that the man will initiate), but in most instances, in fact, here too the feminine prevails (relationship is most about connectedness and few question that it is the woman who most often has the last say as far as whether a relationship will progress). Later we will see how the kind of power that has the greatest influence is also going to be different depending on the stage in the evolution of culture and on an individual’s personality style.

A third recognition is needed if we are to fully appreciate the implications of the first two. Any kind of power can be used for harm as well as benefit. Obviously, the archetypally masculine can penetrate in ways that violate. But the archetypally feminine can manifest in ways that are ultimately just as destructive. It is an important topic, and we will come back to it. In Chapter Four, I will introduce the concepts of archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine violence. In Chapter Five, I will draw on the recognition that masculine and feminine power each have more vertical and horizontal aspects to tease apart multiple ways such harm can take place. And in Chapter Six, I will refine these observations further by tying them to personality style differences.

Over the course of the book, I will draw on the concept of gender archetype for an array of further observations that bring important detail to this inquiry. We will look at how the fact that each major chapter in culture’s story manifests archetypally masculine and archetypally feminine qualities in different ways helps us makes sense not just of how we have thought about gender, but also how we have thought about most every aspect of our lives. We will address how appreciating this kind of big-picture pattern, along with helping us make sense of how culture has evolved, also helps us better understand what most fundamentally makes us who we are. And we will more closely examine how the kind of reflection this chapter has been about becomes possible only with Cultural Maturity’s cognitive changes—and how realizing those changes represents the overarching task of our time.

3 Psychiatrist Jean Baker Miller, in her classic work Toward a New Psychology of Women, wrote about how the qualities natively strongest in the psychology of women can today be difficult for people, including women, to consciously access and affirm. “Thus there is a dilemma. This abundance of women’s psychological strengths exists but cannot flourish or come forward fully into a world that sorely needs precisely these kinds of strengths. And women themselves cannot really believe in them, give them credence, and draw on them as a basis for their development and growth…. Some women writers implicitly accept the model of the man as the only model of a seemingly full-fledged person.” (See Jean Baker Miller, Toward a New Psychology of Women, 1976, Beacon Press, Boston, p.x.)

5 We find last faint remnants of the receptive today in activities that involve consuming—such as buying things, eating (increasingly today to the point of obesity), and social media (often today to the point of addiction).