by John Beebe and Ernst Falzeder
JUNG’S PSYCHOLOGICAL TYPES appeared in 1921 to widespread acclaim and received many laudatory reviews.1 In a two-page spread in the New York Times Book Review, Mark Isham concluded: “This volume is drastically serious, positive, didactic, classic, and yet more than stimulating. It is energizing, liberating and recreative. The author shows an amazingly sympathetic knowledge of the introvert of the thinking type, and hardly less for the other types…. Jung has revealed the inner kingdom of the soul marvelously well and has made the signal discovery of the value of phantasy. His book has a manifold reach and grasp, and many reviews with quite different subject matter could be written about it” (1923). Psychological Types has been one of Jung’s most influential and enduring works, leaving an indelible mark on psychology, psychotherapy, personality testing, anthropology, popular culture, and even language. It was Jung’s first major publication in nearly a decade since his 1911–12 book on Transformations and Symbols of the Libido. Yet there has been little study of either its genesis and elaboration from his first brief presentation on the topic in 1913 or how his work on typology intersected with the self-experimentation he termed his “confrontation with the unconscious,” critical details of which have recently emerged with the publication of Liber Novus, his so-called Red Book (2009). A vital piece of the puzzle lies in the present correspondence.
Its very first sentence, written by Jung on 4 June 1915, reads: “As you know from our previous talks, for the past few years I have occupied myself with the question of psychological types, a problem as difficult as it is interesting.” Jung’s occupation with this topic has indeed a long prehistory. As he went on saying in his letter to Schmid: “What originally led me to that problem were not intellectual presuppositions, but actual difficulties in my daily analytical work with my patients, as well as experiences I have had in my personal relations with other people.” Five years later, he stated in Psychological Types: “This book is the fruit of nearly twenty years’ work in the domain of practical psychology. It grew gradually in my thoughts, taking shape from the countless impressions and experiences of a psychiatrist in the treatment of nervous illnesses, from intercourse with men and women of all social levels, from my personal dealings with friend and foe alike, and, finally, from a critique of my own psychological peculiarity” (1921, p. xi).
Repeatedly, Jung also mentioned another crucial motive for his interest in the type problem, for instance in his 1943 edition of On the Psychology of the Unconscious, where he wrote of the “dilemma” into which he was put by the difference between Freud’s and Adler’s theories, the former placing “the emphasis … wholly upon objects,” the latter placing the emphasis “on a subject, who, no matter what the object, seeks his own security and supremacy” (1943, § 59): “The spectacle of this dilemma made me ponder the question: are there at least two different human types, one of them more interested in the object, the other more interested in himself?” (ibid., § 61). Similarly, in his 1959 Face to Face interview with John Freeman, he stated that the starting point for his work on psychological types was less the result of some particular clinical experience than it was for “a very personal reason, namely to do justice to the psychology of Freud, and also to that of Adler, and to find my own bearings. That helped me to understand why Freud developed such a theory. Or why Adler developed his theory with his power principle” (in McGuire & Hull, 1977, p. 435). Barbara Hannah confirmed that “Jung often said that he wrote the book in order to understand the dissensions in Freud’s circle” (1976, p. 133); this is in concordance with E. A. Bennet, who wrote that Jung’s study of the Freud-Adler conflict was “the starting point of Jung’s work on typology” (1961, p. 57).
Without doubt, what he described to Schmid as his “experiences … in [his] personal relations with other people,” or the “critique of [his] own psychological peculiarity” (1921, p. xi), also played a role. Hannah found that since “Jung’s most convincing characteristic was never to ask anything of other people that he had not first asked of himself,” “we may be certain that his own shortcomings were one of, if not the main, reason for the volume on typology” (1976, p. 133).2
Hans Schmid was not only a personal friend and travel companion but also a pupil and former analysand. In him, Jung found a counterpart to his own “type,” with whom he could enter into a discussion and confrontation, testing out, so to speak, his developing thoughts on the type question on both a personal and a theoretical level. As he went on writing in the preface to Psychological Types, in the book he had “omitted much that I have collected in the course of the years. A valuable document that was of very great help to me has also had to be sacrificed. This is a bulky correspondence which I exchanged with my friend Hans Schmid, of Basel, on the question of types. I owe a great deal of clarification to this interchange of ideas and much of it, though of course in altered and greatly revised form, has gone into my book” (ibid., pp. xi–xii).
EDITORIAL HISTORY AND EDITORIAL GUIDELINES
The present correspondence was initially slotted for publication in Jung’s Collected Works, and a draft translation was prepared to this end. On 1 October 1966, Richard Hull, the principle translator of Jung’s works, wrote to coeditor Michael Fordham concerning the location of the Jung-Schmid letters in the Collected Works. He stated that coeditor Gerhard Adler wanted them to be published there, as he considered them too technical for the edition of Jung’s letters that he was preparing (cf. Jung 1972a,b; 1973a,b; 1974). On the question as to whether they should appear as an appendix to Jung’s Psychological Types or in the projected miscellaneous volume, Hull wrote that he had “painful doubts” over the first option:
Certainly I would be hard put to it to say what Jung’s views really were (in the letters) about differentiating the inferior function; he seems to be shifting his ground all the time, he comes out of it none too well in the personal sense, and the correspondence ends on a despairing, almost defeatist, note. It thus offers an ironic commentary on one of the main theses of the book: the desirability and possibility of differentiating the inferior function in the interests of interpersonal communication. On the other hand, it is a perfect illustration of the other main thesis: the existence of opposed psychological types who constantly misunderstand one another. What to do in this dilemma? I remember your saying in January that you found the correspondence tedious and long-winded, and, taking into account also its ambivalent and highly subjective nature, I’m wondering whether it is quite “proper” to include it in what is generally considered to be Jung’s classic.3
Fordham replied unequivocally, stating his opposition to publishing the letters at all: “I would be in favour of leaving out the Jung-Schmid correspondence altogether. I found it unreadable, and if Jung wrote that the correspondence ‘belongs essentially to the preparation,’ I am against its inclusion anywhere.”4 Plainly, Jung’s Collected Works was not conceived of as a historical, scholarly edition. In response to Fordham’s position, Gerhard Adler fought for the inclusion of the letters. He wrote to Fordham:
You have so far always maintained the attitude that the future student of Jung’s writing should be given the fullest possible opportunity to see Jung’s mind at work. For this reason alone, not to talk of its intrinsic value, I would plead strongly for retaining the correspondence in the Collected Works.5
Fordham, however, found the correspondence “very dull and not particularly illuminating” and not at a “standard required for public exhibition.” He suggested that they put the matter to Herbert Read (senior editor) to arbitrate.6 Adler agreed to this proposition, and reiterated that he was in favor of the publication of the letters because “they show an early phase of Jung’s thought and how his later definitions arose out of a lot of confusions and struggle.”7 In their joint letter to Read, Fordham added a statement that clarifies what he meant by saying that the letters were not fit for public exhibition: “[T]he letters show Jung in a rather unfavourable light and that his tendency to fall back on his authority when driven into a corner may be all right in a private discussion, but it becomes rather embarrassing when displayed in public.”8 Without reading the letters, Read sided with Fordham and vetoed their publication.9 This was enough to decide the issue, and the correspondence was not included in the Collected Works.10
It was only in 1982 that the first publication of these letters appeared, edited by Hans Konrad Iselin in the original German. In 2004 the Philemon Foundation was established, with the goal of preparing Jung’s unpublished works for publication and attempting to fulfill the original intention of the project of Jung’s Collected Works as Gerhard Adler and Michael Fordham saw it—namely, that it be complete. With the formation of the foundation, the possibility of an edition of the Jung-Schmid letters could be raised. Although it has taken decades for the correspondence to appear in English since first mooted in the1960s, it can now appear in a historical edition with full annotations, which would not have been the case had it been included in the Collected Works.
The present edition was accomplished in several stages. First, a new transcription was made of the letters, based on photocopies of the originals, kindly put at our disposal by the Jung Archives at the ETH Zürich (letters 1–9; with thanks to Dr. Yvonne Voegeli) and by Schmid’s grandson Florian Boller, through the mediation of Ulrich Hoerni of the Stiftung der Werke von C. G. Jung (letters 10–13). Iselin’s transcription was, where necessary, silently corrected. Second, a translation into English was made. Third, editorial and text-critical notes were added. Our guiding line in the editorial notes was to give contemporary readers factual information about anything with which they might not be familiar, or which might facilitate reading and understanding: persons, literary and scientific works, quotations, cryptoquotations, allusions, and so on, while avoiding judgemental or speculative statements as far as possible. Text-critical notes were made in cases when corrections, insertions, and margin notes by the correspondents were of any possible significance. Words that the writers of the letters had underlined have been reproduced in italics.
Some minor changes were made to facilitate readability and understanding. In order to avoid passages that run over several pages we have broken up particularly long paragraphs. Abbreviated expressions and words—notably “e.v.,” “i.v.,” “E.V.,” and “I.V.” for extraverted, introverted, extravert, and introvert—were usually spelled out. Some commonly used abbreviations, however, such as “ucs.” for unconscious, have been left intact. Anything added to the original text appears in square brackets.
HANS SCHMID-GUISAN AND HIS ENCOUNTER WITH JUNG
(by Ernst Falzeder)
Hans Adolf Schmid was born on 2 March 1881 as the third of five children of the silk merchant Johannes Schmid and his wife Sophie Anna, née Ballié von Rixheim. He studied medicine at the University of Basel, where he passed the state exam in 1905. He first worked as an assistant at the surgical ward of the Basel polyclinic and at the pediatric hospital. He obtained his M.D. degree in February 1907, and shortly afterward married Marthe Guisan. For three years he had a practice as a country doctor in the canton of Aargau but left it in 1910 to train as a psychiatrist at the Asile de Cery near Lausanne.
It was there, at a psychiatric conference, that Jung and Schmid met for the first time in 1911, as Jung stated in his obituary (1932, § 1714; cf. Freud & Jung, 1974, p. 426). “Not long afterwards he came to Zurich,” Jung continued, “in order to study analytical psychology with me. This collaborative effort gradually broadened into a friendly relationship, and the problems of psychological practice frequently brought us together in serious work or round a convivial table” (ibid.). In December 1912 Schmid joined the Zurich branch of the International Psychoanalytical Association and gave a talk on “The Hamlet Problem” at its International Congress in Munich in 1913.11
His continued collaboration and friendship with Jung included many mutual visits. Iselin mentions that Schmid’s wife, Marthe, served both psychiatrists as a test person to find out whether free association was more fruitful when lying on a couch or when sitting in a chair—with the result that Jungian analysts to this day mostly prefer the sitting position (1982, p. 26). He also reports, referring to a personal communication of Jung’s son, Franz, that they often sailed on Lake Zurich together and camped on an island in the upper part of the lake. “It was then that a wish must have grown in them to build a refuge with simple means in natural surroundings” (ibid., p. 19). Schmid realized this by erecting a primitive cabin in the village of Prêles, and Jung, as is well known, with his tower in Bollingen.
In July 1913 Schmid moved back to Basel, where he settled into private psychiatric practice and was soon known as Seelenschmid—a smith (Schmied) of souls (Seelen). “His ‘deep warmth, his open geniality, and his cheerful personality’—as he was characterized in an obituary … —were much appreciated by his patients, one of whom once said that there would be nobody who could listen better than Hans Schmid” (ibid., p. 18).
Jung himself characterized Schmid in a letter to Henry A. Murray as follows:
Dr. Schmid-Guisan is a friend of mine and quite allright [sic] inasmuch as there is no particular demand for philosophical or scientific clarity…. He is a very decent and good man, rather original and profoundly extraverted, artistic and intuitive. I often send patients to him. (2 May 1925; Harvard Archives, Cambridge, Massachusetts)12
Schmid was not a prolific writer or an important theoretician, but he lectured regularly and wrote a few scientific papers, as well as some novelistic essays and poems. Shortly before his death appeared his novel, Tag und Nacht [Day and Night] (1931), to which Jung wrote a preface (1931).
In 1932 Schmid received a minor injury and was treated by a colleague, but he acquired blood sepsis and had to be hospitalized. He died on 21 April 1932, only fifty-one years old. Hans Schmid-Guisan was buried near his cabin lodge in Prêles.
On 25 April 1932, Jung published a short but moving obituary in the Basler Nachrichten (see the appendix). “The death of Dr. Schmid of Basel,” as Emma Jung wrote to Jungian analyst Wolfgang M. Kranefeldt, had “touched” herself and her husband “deeply…. It seems to me that just then he stood before an important turning point, and it is very tragic that the turn could not be made under the terms of life. Perhaps he was too little aware of the critical moment, or had just reached his limit, so that a different orientation (2nd half of life; his attitude was much too youthful) was no longer possible.”13
THE PREHISTORY OF JUNG’S CONCEPT OF PSYCHOLOGICAL TYPES
(by Ernst Falzeder)
Already in his study on “The associations of normal subjects,” written together with Franz Riklin (1904/5), Jung had found that “some individuals tend to react with internal associations and others with external ones” (ibid., § 382). In other words, there is a “type in whose reactions subjective, often feeling-toned experiences are used,” and there is another “type whose reactions show an objective, impersonal tone” (ibid., § 412).
In 1909 Jung first introduced the term introversion in one of his talks at Clark University, in which he discussed the case of his own daughter Agathli (1910, § 13).14 There he defined it as a process, in which a part of the love that before had been directed to an object in the outer world was turned inward, “introverted,” resulting in an increase of fantasy activity.
He again used the term in (the second part of) the original edition of Transformations and Symbols of the Libido, where he writes: “It is generally to be expected that the two basic mechanisms in psychoses, transference and introversion, are to a great extent also very expedient normal modes of reaction to complexes: transference as a means to flee from the complex into reality, introversion as a means to detach oneself, with the complex, from reality” (Jung, 1911/12, p. 182).15 That by “transference” Jung meant what he later called “extraversion” is shown by how he changed this passage later on, and as it can now be found in the Collected Works. There it says: “As one would expect, the two fundamental mechanisms of the psyche, extraversion and introversion, are also to a large extent the normal and appropriate ways of reacting to complexes—extraversion as a means of escaping from the complex into reality, introversion as a means of detaching oneself from external reality through the complex” (CW 5, § 259; emphasis added).16
In an unpublished review of Adler’s magnum opus, The Neurotic Character (1912),17 Jung wrote that Adler’s overall approach was finalistic, whereas Freud’s was essentially causal, claiming “that the preference for the final or causal standpoint was temperamental, as James had … shown apropos the ‘tough-minded’ and ‘tender-minded’ in philosophy…. [W]hat was at work in the Adler-Freud opposition was a clash of unconscious world views” (in Shamdasani, 2003, p. 57). The impact of James’s distinction between rationalists (the “tender-minded”) and empiricists (the “tough-minded”), as well as of his views on pragmatism and pluralism, upon Jung’s work has also been shown by Shamdasani (ibid., pp. 58–61).
It is not entirely clear when Jung first used the term “extraversion.” Iselin (1982, p. 137) writes that it was in his talk on 8 September 1913, at the Fourth International Psychoanalytical Congress in Munich, which seems unlikely, since in that talk, as originally delivered in German, Jung referred to introversion and extraversion as two concepts he had already introduced before (“Ich habe diese zwei … Richtungen der Libido ‘Extraversion’ und ‘Introversion’ genannt”; Jung, 1913a, § 860; emphasis added).18 In any case, there is no mentioning of extraversion in any published works19 of Jung’s before the Munich talk.
There, Jung defined the two types as follows: “We speak of extraversion when he [the individual] gives his whole interest to the outer world, to the object, and attributes an extraordinary importance and value to it. When, on the contrary, the objective world sinks into the shadow, as it were, or undergoes a devaluation, while the individual occupies the centre of his own interest and becomes in his own eyes the only person worthy of consideration, it is a case of introversion. I call regressive extraversion the phenomenon which Freud calls transference,20 when the hysteric projects upon the object his own illusions and subjective valuations. In the same way, I call regressive introversion the opposite phenomenon which we find in schizophrenia, when these fantastic ideas refer to the subject himself” (Jung, 1913a, § 860).
Jung quoted seven authors who had made comparable distinctions before him. In addition to William James, who, according to Jung, had made “the best observations in this respect” (ibid., § 864), and his juxtaposition of the tender- and the tough-minded, he mentioned Wilhelm Ostwald (romanticists vs. classicists), Wilhelm Worringer (feeling-into vs. abstraction), Friedrich Schiller (naive vs. sentimental types), Friedrich Nietzsche (the Apollonian vs. the Dionysian), Franz Nikolaus Finck and his linguistic theory of “action verbs” vs. “sensation verbs,” and Otto Gross (flattened and broadened consciousness vs. narrowed and deepened consciousness).
Among the authors he did not quote were William Stern, Alfred Binet, and Sándor Ferenczi.21 In 1900 the German psychologist William Stern had distinguished between objective judgement types, whose judgements were primarily determined by outer stimuli, and subjective judgement types, whose judgements were primarily determined by the state of the subject (cf. Shamdasani, 2003, p. 43). Alfred Binet (1903) had maintained that there were “two distinct typical forms of reaction” in associations to given words: “objectivism, the tendency to live in the outer world, and subjectivism, the tendency to enclose oneself in one’s own consciousness” (Shamdasani, 2003, p. 42). Binet called these the types of (in French) “introspection” and “externospection.” Oliver Brachfeld (1954) first drew attention to the similarities between Jung’s typology and that of Binet, which Jung never quoted. Ellenberger, referring to Brachfeld, notes that Binet’s book appeared when Jung was in Paris and that he might have read it and then forgotten it (1970, p. 703).
In 1909 Ferenczi published “Introjection and transference.” There he stated that “[a]ll neurotics suffer from flight from their complexes” (p. 45). “[I]n order to escape from complexes that are unpleasant, and hence have become unconscious,” the neurotic transfers, that is, he “is forced to meet the persons and things of the outer world with exaggerated interest” (p. 39). This “favours the emergence of day-dreams, first unconscious, later becoming conscious” (p. 43). In direct contrast to the paranoiac, who “projects on to the outer world the interest that has become a burden to him” and “expels from his ego the impulses that have become unpleasant” (p. 47), the neurotic (hysteric) “is constantly seeking for objects with whom he can identify himself, to whom he can transfer feelings” (p. 48). He takes “into the ego as large as possible a part of the outer world, making it the object of unconscious phantasies…. One might give this process, in contrast to projection, the name of Introjection [sic]” (p. 47). “The psychoneurotic suffers from a widening, the paranoic [sic] from a shrinking of his ego” (p. 48).
Although Ferenczi’s description of the interplay of centrifugal versus centripetal movements of the libido is not completely congruent with Jung’s concept of extraversion and introversion, there are some similarities, and it is worth noting that Jung fails to mention the work of his former student. But then, Jung’s presentation has to be seen also before the background of Freud’s break with Adler, and his own imminent break with Freud.
Coming back to Jung’s Munich talk—which was given before this background—he stated not only that extraversion and introversion are characteristic of hysteria and dementia praecox respectively but that “there may also be normal human types who are distinguished by the predominance of one or other of the two mechanisms” (1913a, § 862). It was only in his concluding remarks, however, that he made, for the first time in public, a much more far-reaching claim: these two types would characterize not only people but also theories, and particularly theories in “analytical psychology” (ibid., § 880).22 Thus, Freud’s theory could be described as “extraverted,” that is, reductionistic, pluralistic, sensational, materialistic, pessimistic, irreligious, deterministic, and causal, whereas Adler’s was “introverted,” intellectualistic, monistic, and finalistic. (Jung did not uphold this implied equation of an explanation by a causa finalis with introversion, and of one by a causa efficiens with extraversion, later on.) And not only would these types color the presentation of these men’s theories, or influence the choice of topics they were dealing with, and from which perspective, but they would also lead, as Jung implied in his talk, and openly writes in the present correspondence, to “viewing the world in the light of two truths,” and these two truths would be “two different, but equally true, perceptions of one and the same situation” (emphasis added). “The difficult task of the future,” Jung ended his talk by saying, “will be to create a psychology that will do equal justice to both types” (1913a, § 882, trans. mod.)—presumably his own, which he had already announced “seeks to maintain the balance between the two psychological opposites of extraversion and introversion” (ibid., § 872).
Quite a program to be announced at an official congress by the president of the International Psycho-Analytical Association, an association whose purpose was, as stated in the statutes, “the cultivation and promotion of the psychoanalytic science as inaugurated by Freud” (in Freud & Jung, 1974, p. 568). In fact, Jung declared—in Freud’s presence, and in the absence of Adler, who had already left, or rather been forced to leave, the society in 1911—that Adler’s theory was as valid as that of Freud, while both would still be wanting and one-sided, and all but announced that he was about to develop a third psychology, superior to Freud’s and Adler’s, and indeed to all other psychological theories.
In applying his typological concept not only to individuals but also to theories, Jung made a crucial extension of this concept, with considerable consequences. One consequence, which Jung clearly saw, was that (at least in psychology) this implied that there existed more than one truth: there were “two truths,” “two different, but equally true, perceptions of one and the same situation.” The point is that Jung then went on to develop still another “truth,” namely, his own theory of psychological types, which would be able to explain why this was so. Implicitly, then, this latter “truth” was of a higher order than the other two “truths.”23 Implicitly, too, he thus claimed to have found, with his typology, an “Archimedean point,” with the help of which he could move the world of psychology—even if he often explicitly stated that this was impossible.24 Similarly, he writes in his exchange with Schmid: “The Archimedean point outside of psychology, with the help of which we would be able to unhinge psychology, is hardly likely to be found” (1 J).
This concept also highlights a crucial difference between Jung and Freud. For Freud, there was no doubt that—as in any other science—there was but one “truth” in psychology (and that he, Freud, had found it), and that there was a method to find it out, namely, psychoanalysis. When Jung objected that brilliant people (such as Freud, Adler, and himself), using the very same method, came to different, even contradictory conclusions, Freud would have countered: if this was so, then those who came to results different from those he had reached himself must have used the method incorrectly, or were, for personal reasons (resistances), unable to see the obvious. No, Jung would reply, even if Freud’s and Adler’s theories were correct to some extent, and in that sense “true,” they would not tell the whole truth.
In December of the same year, Jung published his Munich talk in French,25 under the title “Contribution à l’étude des types psychologiques,” in Archives de Psychologie (Jung, 1913a). In his review of this article, Ferenczi (1914)26 criticized precisely Jung’s extension of the concept to also encompass theories: “This classification doubtlessly offers some interesting perspectives. Questionable is only the last passage of the article, however, in which Jung wants to extend his … classification also to psychology itself…. We believe that Jung … let himself be carried away to an all too complicated and psychologizing explanation” (ibid., p. 65). The difference between Freud’s and Adler’s theories would not be that one was the product of an extraverted, “tough-minded” thinker, and the other of an introverted, “tender-minded” one, but simply that Freud developed a psychology of the unconscious, while Adler dealt with the psychology of consciousness (ibid., p. 66).
In 1914, in a supplement to the second edition of his monograph The Content of the Psychoses, Jung wrote: “The terms introversion and extraversion are dependent on my energic conception of psychic phenomena. I postulate a hypothetical fundamental striving which I call libido” (1914a, § 418; emphasis in the original). And he went on saying: “The introverted type directs his libido chiefly to his own personality: he finds the absolute value in himself. The extraverted type directs his libido outwards: he finds the absolute value in the object…. I … would … like to emphasize that the type question is one of the most vital for our psychology and that any further advance will probably be along those lines…. In the realm of medical psychology, Freud is decidedly the champion of the extravert, Adler the champion of the introvert. The irreconcilable contradiction between the views of Freud and Adler … is easily explained by the existence of two diametrically opposed psychologies which view the same things under totally different aspects” (ibid., § 419; emphasis added).27
This was Jung’s point of view at the time when his correspondence with Hans Schmid, conducted from 4 June 1915 to 6 January 1916, began.28
THE CORRESPONDENCE AND THE CORRESPONDENTS
(by John Beebe)
Jung seems to have suggested the correspondence with Schmid as a kind of Platonic dialogue, a dialectical discourse. Schmid was someone who he had decided, on the basis of “previous talks,” could instinctively29 articulate the position of an extravert, while he, Jung, could as naturally argue that of an introvert. Their temperamental capacities created the basis for a conversation that would illustrate, as well as intellectually circumambulate, the problem of different kinds of truth based on psychological type. The men were friends, and Jung felt that Schmid would be willing on that basis too to take up “the question of psychological types” with him in an honest exchange in which each would be free to speak openly to the other. Jung, having thought longer and harder about the type problem, would naturally take the lead. Schmid confirms this at the beginning of his first reply to Jung (2 S), when he assures Jung: “As you have guessed, dealing further with the question of the psychological types has not given me any real headaches.” He makes it clear, however, that he is not going to accept Jung’s premise that the two types are not going to be able to understand each other.
Schmid’s relative optimism reflects his belief in the possibilities of relationship. This value he upholds throughout the correspondence, even to the point of continuing to write to Jung after the latter, with a touch of exasperation, has announced that he has penned his “last” letter (9 J) in it. Schmid also is willing to argue his position on intellectual grounds: “I have never viewed the problem of the types as the existence of two truths, however, but I rather envisaged, from the genetic point of view, the existence of two poles between which psychic development occurs” (2 S).
Such standing up for a different view was exactly what Jung had asked Schmid to do when he cast Schmid in the role of the extravert in the dialogue. That this led to a formulation that today sounds very much like that of object relations is entirely consistent with Jung’s notion of how the extravert relates to the object, with interest and engagement over time, seeing such a relation as a process of development. When Jung refrains from mirroring Schmid, he is not being patronizing to Schmid but tells him just what he thinks, and even what he has already thought, in a way that draws away from privileging Schmid as a source of insight. Jung is playing—as he himself says, “hypothetically”—the part of the introvert, not admitting easily to common ground but repeatedly asserting first principles derived from an internal standard of truth. Most strikingly, Jung refuses almost all of Schmid’s attempts to reach an understanding on extraverted, feeling grounds. (At this early point in the development of the theory of types that they are attempting to explore, extraversion was equated with feeling, and introversion with thinking, and these terms had acquired neither the differentiation nor the technical meanings that would be assigned them in Psychological Types.)
The model of the psyche the men were using in 1915 to ground their discussion included not just the two psychological types that, to the exclusion of each other, would govern an individual conscious attitude, but a recognition of the unconscious, in which the other attitude would be present in an inferior, less developed form. Both men had trained as psychiatrists, were depth psychotherapists, and considered themselves colleagues because they were fellow analysts in the Zurich School of Analytical Psychology, which meant that they practiced an ethic of honesty in their exchanges with each other that included their direct emotional reactions. It was entirely in keeping with this convention that Jung, even when representing a hypothetical thinking standpoint, would express his feeling about the way the conversation was going, and that he sometimes did so in testy ways, reflecting the “inferior” extraversion (and feeling) that went with the territory of the thinking type he was playing in the dialogue. Similarly, for Schmid to use extended metaphors to convey what he thought about the type problem was quite in keeping with the image-based thinking that was supposed to characterize the unconscious of the more feeling-oriented extravert. The dialogue between the men therefore includes not only a directed exposition by each of the conscious standpoint of the type he has agreed to represent but also a more dramatic enactment of that type’s unconscious aspect.30 One of their early disagreements, for instance, concerns whether Schmid really understands that Jung, when describing how he thinks, is not conveying personal opinions: “I did not express any personal conviction with this description, nor did I want to convey an expression of my personal opinion through it, but I was thinking hypothetically” (3 J).
Jung is saying this because he believes a misunderstanding has developed (with Schmid) since the extravert is “inclined to understand such an expression in a concrete way.” Schmid protests at the outset of his very next communication: “I did not take your remarks in the first letter as an expression of your personal statement. I contrasted your hypothetical thinking with my hypothetical feeling in hypothesizing that your remarks were your personal conviction. I reacted to this hypothesis, but I was well aware of the fact that it was only a hypothesis. I find it absolutely mandatory that we should give each other the credit to assume that neither of us wants to react in a personal way against the other; but we must, in order to get spontaneous reactions, adopt the attitude that each of us writes as if the one would think in this way, and the other feel in this way” (4 S).
Evidently, each of them feels free, in the course of playing his role in the dialogue, to speak from the area of his superiority to the relative inferiority of the other’s thinking or feeling. Reading the dialogue with an understanding of the totality of what they are trying to represent to each other, both the conscious and unconscious sides of the characters they are personifying, it is impressive how well the two men play their roles. It is therefore a bit perplexing to experience their mutual frustration at the dialogue, which does not seem to allow either man fully to appreciate the integrity with which the other is representing the standpoint he agreed to represent. Instead, by the time the dialogue comes to an end, it seems to reach an impasse that leads each man to exit it by simply asserting a different model of the psyche.
Within this exchange, Schmid comes across as the more generous with symbolic images that he thinks can transcend such a standoff, and Jung more insistent about establishing principles and inner facts before any meeting of their different minds can even be contemplated.31 There is, however, another issue between them besides epistemology, namely, an element of unresolved transference. In the seventh letter of this correspondence (7 J), Jung hints at the fact that Schmid had been his analytic patient and that there had been a significant misunderstanding between them when they were working together: “You have witnessed a famous case of this kind, in which a distinguished extravert was put, by an introvert de pur sang, into the saddle that is so characteristic of the extravert, on which he then galloped off to those adventures in which he learned to ‘realize.’ This was not taught to him. He learned it by himself because he had no other choice.”
Later in the same letter, Jung adds: “Since I cannot provide you with evidence from my ongoing analyses, as you know nothing about them, I must revert to that famous case mentioned above, in which you have witnessed my method—which you seem to refer to in your letter—put into practice. The relation to the object that resulted from that analysis seems to have had a not inconsiderable influence on the further course the development of this extravert took. He has often been heard talking of Tristan and Iseult, of Faust and Helen, etc.”
As Schmid had mentioned Tristan and Iseult as well as Faust as recently as his previous letter of the dialogue (6 S), it is Schmid that Jung is referring to. Jung is reminding Schmid that he has witnessed Jung’s method directly because he was once Jung’s analysand; the “famous case” that opened the door to an extraverted type’s development was that of Schmid himself, with Jung as the analyst. The discussion of type, then, is being used by Jung to define the nature of their therapeutic interaction—and to remind Schmid that Jung is not as misunderstanding of what relationship to the object means to Schmid as the latter might imagine.
Schmid, for his part, is able, in the next letter (8 S), to report that he has engaged in an introspective way with Jung’s suggestion that there is an element of unresolved transference in his refusal to acknowledge that Jung does know what it means to love an object:
I have submitted to that famous extravert, as you call him, the remarks you made about him, and you might perhaps be interested in hearing what he had to say about them. He is grateful to the introvert de pur sang for having allowed him complete freedom in his development, and for not having forced him, for example, to remain sitting in the saddle on which he had put him. He acknowledges that this effort is particularly deserving of thanks. He denies, however, that he was sitting in the saddle on which the introvert had put him when he galloped away to those adventures, as you put it. He maintains that he was not able to advance even one single step toward the realization of his feelings so long as he remained sitting in this saddle, and felt compelled to abandon some, then more, and finally practically all views about relations with the object he had taken over from the introvert de pur sang, particularly the view on the subjective plane, which was an obstacle to the realization of his feelings. Only after he had discarded everything that had been between him and the horse was he able to ‘gallop away,’ and only then could he find a saddle that fitted his own and the horse’s nature.
This is a remarkable passage. It makes clear that (a) Schmid, during his analysis, had understood the need to disidentify with Jung, (b) Jung was already by 1915 engaged with discussions of “relations with the object” with his patients, and (c) both men found it necessary, after the period of their formal work, to clarify the process of separation of their natures that had taken place during Schmid’s psychotherapy.
The letters thus give a rare glimpse of a process that is seldom complete at the time of “termination” of analysis, the resolution of a transference relationship. That Jung feels the process is complete after Schmid has expressed his view of what transpired between them is evidenced by the fact that he now feels able to bring the correspondence to an end. His next letter to Schmid is called “The last one,” and in it he chooses to simplify the feeling ground that has in fact been covered when he says that “the point seems to be precisely that we don’t agree.” As if to underline that he will no longer be working with Schmid on the question of psychological types, Jung closes this letter with a unilateral move: outlining in meticulous detail where he thinks type theory is at the end of 1915. He includes important additions to the theory that have not previously been covered in the correspondence. Although it has seemed up to now that “intuition” has received scant attention in these letters, given its importance to Jung’s later type theory, here Jung takes pains to make clear that he now sees intuition as the guiding principle of the unconscious. Therefore, the relatively unconscious thinking of the feeling type and feeling of the thinking type both operated intuitively.
This understanding that in the unconscious thinking (and, by analogy, feeling) will have an irrational basis carries forward the assertion Jung sets forth in the first chapter of Wandlungen und Symbole der Libido, that there are two kinds of thinking—one for the conscious, which is directed thinking guided by rational principles of logic and judgement, and one for the unconscious, which is undirected and carried forward by symbols (cf. Jung, 1911/12, §§ 15–50). At the time he wrote this letter to Schmid, Jung had not yet been convinced by Maria Moltzer that intuition could also be a conscious function. However, the way he stresses that intuition, though irrational, can yet be a potential source of new understanding—the thinking and feeling of the future—seems to reflect what he has learned in the course of the active imaginations recorded in Liber Novus. There, as we now know, he had written that “my soul gave me ancient things that pointed to the future. She gave me three things: The misery of war, the darkness of magic, and the gift of religion” (Jung, 2009, p. 306). All these irrational sources of insight are intuitive ways the unconscious has of informing the conscious mind.
For the most part, Jung’s understanding of conscious functioning remains little altered from what he had presented to the Munich Psychoanalytic Congress in his paper on psychological types (1913a), read three months before his active imaginations began: two years later, he still regards feeling as the guiding conscious process for the extraverted type and thinking as the guiding process for the introverted type. It is in the correspondence with Schmid, however, that Jung first identifies the feeling of the feeling type as a rational function, breaking ranks with many earlier psychologists who had tended to see feeling as irrational, because derived from emotion as opposed to reason. Jung makes it clear that he sees any imputation of irrationality to feeling as applying only to the unconscious feeling of the thinking type, thus entitling the feeling type extravert the same claim to rationality as the thinking type introvert.
There are a few signs in the last letter (9 J) that he has started to think of sensation as a third function operating in consciousness. Jung’s linking the term “sensation” with “organ function” suggests that his notion of sensation at this time was that it was equivalent to a body sense, or what he would later call “introverted sensation.” When he goes on to speak, in part IV of the outline statement contained in this letter, of “acting (experience via the object)” as a way to assimilate the unconscious, Jung may be making his first stab at formulating what he would later, in Psychological Types, describe as belonging to “extraverted sensation” (Jung, 1921, § 604: “Sensation, in the extraverted attitude, is pre-eminently conditioned by the object”; § 605: “As sensation is chiefly conditioned by the object, those objects that excite the strongest sensations will be decisive for the individual’s psychology”; and § 606: “This type—the majority appear to be men—naturally does not think he is at the ‘mercy’ of sensation. He would ridicule this point of view as quite beside the point, because sensation for him is a concrete expression of life—it is simply real life lived to the full”). Although his 1915 formulation of “experience via the object” could be read as if the “object” were typically an outer one being engaged with in an extraverted way, the active quality of the imaginations he was recording in the Red Book, in which he observed and interacted with his fantasy figures as real, may have played the decisive role in his recognition of the necessity of “action” to “assimilate the unconscious.”
This outline statement of what Jung thought the types were in 1915, then, can be directly compared with Jung’s earlier comment (1913a) to see the distance the theory had come in two short years, and we can also compare it to a subsequent statement (Jung, 1921) to see how much farther he would take it after ending the correspondence with Schmid. Jung seems to have written this statement in 1915 to reclaim ownership of the theory. However, it was not the end of what Schmid had to say. This “last one” from Jung released a spate of new information from his former patient, who wrote no fewer than three more letters, to let Jung know about “what has been the most important work to me during the last months” (arguably his own Black Book) and, in a subsequent letter, to cough up at last some of the ways he felt his extraverted commitment to relationship (Eros) had been slighted, and even short-changed, by Jung’s introverted stance as an analyst. Jung apparently did write back about that, as is evidenced by Schmid’s references to Jung’s reaction, although these communications appear to be lost.
The final two letters we have, both from Schmid, seem to me to complete his process of setting himself free, never more clearly than in these lines from 12 S (the letter of 17/18 December 1915) addressed, rather personally, to Jung: “Your reaction … is a prime specimen of Mephistophelean wisdom. Its end provoked a laughter of relief, for which I heartily thank you…. I have an equally sharp-tongued Mephistopheles within myself, who showed me the same truths about God and the devil, Eros and the poisoner, etc. in an even more drastic manner already long ago, particularly in the black book.”
Schmid is suggesting here that a process of introversion did occur for him in relation to this analysis, for he has kept his own black book of introverted experiences (just as Jung was doing during this period) and has found a similar part in himself to Jung’s “Mephistopheles.” As Schmid movingly puts it, “I know that I have always acknowledged, and will always acknowledge, in private and in public, in speech and in writing, the value of your thoughts; actually I also accepted your untruths at first, that is, also your devil. This was the only way it was possible for me to really acknowledge you…. I cannot understand why you distinguish so painstakingly between the moral and immoral, between divine and devilish love, in the extravert. They simply cannot be separated, because out of both—just as out of truth and untruth—the new develops again and again.”
Thus it is hard to see this dialogue as ending simply in disagreement, and easy to imagine Jung having raised that possibility to give Schmid a chance to refute it. Both men come through as separate psychological individuals, and though their attempt at Platonic dialogue does end in a kind of stalemate that forces them to drop their typological masks, the friendship survived. Jung was invited to write the introduction to Tag und Nacht, the novel of introverted feeling and extraverted intuitive musings that Schmid eventually shared with the world. Upon Schmid’s untimely death, Jung found himself able to write a generous obituary, which we have included as an appendix to this book. Schmid’s daughter, Marie-Jeanne, became Jung’s longtime secretary the following spring.
THE AFTERMATH
(by Ernst Falzeder)
About a year after the end of his correspondence with Schmid, Jung wrote an important text, entitled Die Psychologie der unbewußten Prozesse. Überblick über die moderne Theorie und Methode der analytischen Psychologie [The psychology of unconscious processes. An overview of the modern theory and method of analytical psychology] (Jung, 1917a; finished in December 1916).32 Its first part is an only slightly modified reprint of a short popular article published in 1912, “New paths in psychology” (Jung, 1912) (in which typology is not mentioned). To this article he then added another ninety-five pages, however, in which he dealt with basic concepts of his own evolving psychology, including the question of psychological types. “He noted that it was a common development that the psychological characteristics of the types were pushed to extremes. By what he termed the law of enantiodromia, or the reversal into the opposite, the other function entered in, namely, feeling for the introvert, and thinking for the extravert. These secondary functions were found in the unconscious. The development of the contrary function led to individuation” (Shamdasani, in Jung, 2009, p. 210).
In general, Jung summarized his views as he had developed them in the exchange with Schmid. As in the correspondence, for instance, Jung continued to equate feeling(-into) with extraversion, and thinking with introversion.33 (Interestingly, however, he already hinted at the possibility of further types: “I deliberately mention only these two types. Naturally, this does not exclude the possibility of the existence of other types. We know of still other possibilities” [Jung, 1917a, p. 77].) It sounds like an echo of his dispute with Schmid when Jung wrote that each of the types “speaks a different language,” and that the quarrel between them “is venomous, violent, and full of mutual devaluations. For the value of the one is the non-value of the other” (ibid., p. 76). “Both devalue each other” (ibid., p. 59).34 He again linked the conflict between the two types of personal psychology to the theories of Freud and Adler: “The sexual theory is a theory emanating from the feeling standpoint, while the power theory emanates from the thinking standpoint…. both theories are the products of a one-sided psychology” (ibid., p. 59; emphasis in original).
Some formulations and metaphors seem to have been taken directly from the correspondence, for example, when Jung wrote about those theories and methods: “In the hands of a good doctor … both theories are beneficial causticizers, helpful in a dosage measured for the particular case, harmful and dangerous in a hand that does not know how to measure and to weigh. They are critical methods, which, like all criticisms, bring about something good in cases where something may and must be destroyed, dissolved, and reduced, but only do damage in any case where it is necessary to develop something…. both theories … [are] like medicinal toxins” (ibid., pp. 60–61; emphasis added). This is reminiscent of the passage in Jung’s letter to Schmid of 6 November 1915: “For ill people, ‘analytical’ understanding is as healingly destructive as cauterization or thermocautery, but healthy tissue is banefully destroyed by it. After all, it is a technique we learned from the devil, always destructive, but useful where destruction is necessary” (emphasis added).35
When did Jung stop linking introversion with thinking, and extraversion with feeling, and introduce sensation and intuition as two further functions? And who identified these latter functions? Jung expressly stated in Psychological Types that the “credit for having discovered the existence of this [intuitive] type belongs to Miss M. Moltzer” (1921, footnote to § 773). Moltzer had introduced it in two talks given before the Psychological Club in Zurich in 1916: “The tendency of individualisation also contains a collective element which arises in the half conscious, half unconscious function which we call intuition. Intuition … contains elements of feelings as well as of thoughts, and tries to solve a given problem and create an adaptation in bringing together these half conscious and half unconscious elements. This adaptation coincides with neither the extraversion nor the introversion tendency—it contains elements of both. Therefore I am inclined to accept a third type which uses mainly this intuitive function in its adaptation to life” (Moltzer, 1916a, p. 109). In her second talk she added that she considered “intuition … the oldest human function” that would have “grown out of instinct. I consider intuition to be the differentiation and the conscious function of instinct” (Moltzer, 1916b, pp. 116–17).36
Shamdasani comments that if “one compares Jung’s concept of this type in Psychological Types with Moltzer’s, it is apparent that their formulations, whilst overlapping, differ quite significantly…. it appears that Jung developed his concept of this type through extensively reworking Moltzer’s concept, and recasting her trinitarian model into a quaternity” (Shamdasani, 1988b, p. 104), or rather, more specifically, through recasting Moltzer’s trinitarian model of types into his concept of two attitudes and a quaternity of psychological functions.
In Psychological Types, Jung merely wrote that he had to realize, after thoroughly working through the material, “that we must treat the introverted and extraverted [attitude] types as categories over and above the function-types” (1921, § 836).37 Jung’s mature typology became possible only after he had clearly distinguished within types between attitudes and functions (1921, § 556), which were more or less independent of each other and could appear in any possible combination in a particular individual. In addition to thinking and feeling, he introduced sensation (analogous to Janet’s “fonction du réel”) and finally, taking up and reworking Moltzer’s suggestion, intuition as further psychological functions. Moreover, he distinguished between rational and irrational (or “aesthetic,” in Nietzsche’s term; cf. Jung, 1921, § 240) functions, which could then appear in a “superior” or “inferior” form in a particular case. New questions became possible: What function is used the most? Is it adjusted (and successful) or not? The use of what function leads to unfavorable outcomes? In this way, the typology evolved into a system of coordinates for the practical use of the psychologist or psychotherapist, going beyond a mere characterology or a superficial a priori classification.
This conceptualization must have taken place sometime between December 1916 (when he finished his monograph on the unconscious processes, in which the duality introversion-thinking and extraversion-feeling was still upheld) and October 1919 at the latest, when his final model was already fully developed. Although the manuscript of Psychological Types was finished only in the spring of 1920,38 the main body of the work had been completed earlier. Hannah noted that “all the research and most of the writing was done during the war” (1976, p. 134). This is confirmed by a letter Jung wrote to Smith Ely Jelliffe in August 1917, while on military duty in Chateau d’Oex: “As soon as I am back again, I try to finish a rather long paper about the types” (in Burnham, 1983, p. 199). By December, he was able to tell Sabina Spielrein that “you are an intuitive extravert type” (letter dated 18 December 1917 in Covington & Wharton, 2003, p. 52). We also know that in “1918, he presented a series of seminars to the Psychological Club on his work on typology, and was engaged in extensive scholarly research on this subject” (Shamdasani, in Jung, 2009, p. 210). Obviously, he had already developed the full eightfold typological schema and already finished at least a draft of this book, on 7 October 1919, when he wrote to Spielrein: “I cannot answer your question about types. I would have to write a book about it. Actually it has already been written. Your questions are answered there in detail. When I wrote it I had to cancel out the fundamental identity of extraversion and feeling, and of introversion and thinking. That was wrongly conceived and came from the fact that introverted thinking types and extraverted feeling types are the most conspicuous” (in Covington & Wharton, 2003, p. 57; emphasis added). He also sent her a diagram, in which he gave the positions of himself, Bleuler, Freud, and Nietzsche with reference to thinking, feeling, sensation, and intuition (ibid.).
In 1920, Jung gave his reason for not including the present exchange in Psychological Types: “The correspondence belongs essentially to the preparatory stage of the work, and its inclusion would create more confusion than clarity” (1921, p. xii). Now, nearly a century later, it is to be hoped that the first publication of these letters in English,39 in a scholarly, annotated edition, will not “create more confusion than clarity,” but instead will shed more light on the development of Jung’s theory of types, particularly on the co-construction of that theory in the dialogue with Hans Schmid-Guisan.
1 Sigmund Freud was not pleased, however: “A new production by Jung of enormous size [,] 700 pages thick, inscribed ‘Psychologische Typen[,]’ the work of a snob and a mystic, no new idea in it. He clings to that escape he had detected in 1913, denying objective truth in psychology on account of the personal differences in the observer’s constitution. No great harm to be expected from this quarter” (Freud & Jones, 1993, p. 424). Similar is Rank’s report of Freud’s view in a circular letter to the committee: “[The book] contains nothing new at all, and again deals with the way out he believes to have found, namely, that an objective truth is impossible in psychology, with regard to individual differences in the researchers. Such a result would have to be proven at first, however, since one could, with the same justification, also doubt the results of all other sciences” (Wittenberger & Tögel, 2001, p. 174).
2 Ellenberger linked the development of this concept with what he called Jung’s “creative illness” after the break with Freud (1970, p. 672). Without entering into a discussion of whether Jung did suffer such an “illness,” it seems safe to assume that his experiences during the period of his “confrontation with the unconscious” added to his understanding of the processes of introversion and extraversion.
3 Richard Hull to Michael Fordham, 1 October 1966 (Michael Fordham Papers, Contemporary Archives, Wellcome Library, London). The extracts quoted from this and the following letters in this section were kindly made available by Sonu Shamdasani.
4 Fordham to Hull, 10 October 1966 (Fordham Papers). Fordham had an aversion to psychological typology, which had little place in his own work (Fordham, 1978, pp. 6–8).
5 Adler to Fordham, 16 November 1966 (Fordham Papers).
6 Fordham to Adler, 18 November 1966 (Fordham Papers).
7 Adler to Fordham, 20 November 1966 (Fordham Papers).
8 Adler and Fordham to Read, 5 December 1966 (Fordham Papers).
9 Read to Fordham and Adler, transcript of carbon copy sent to McGuire, “received Dec. 13, 1966” (Bollingen Archives, Library of Congress, Washington, DC). William McGuire was the executive editor of the Collected Works.
10 Fordham to McGuire, 13 December 1966 (Bollingen Archives).
11 The talk was not published.
12 With thanks to Sonu Shamdasani.
13 Letter of 2 June 1932 (Zentralbibliothek Zürich). With thanks to Sonu Shamdasani.
14 Jung himself confirmed this in Transformations and Symbols of the Libido, referring to “the term ‘introversion’ (which I have … introduced in my article ‘Psychic conflicts in a child’)” (1911/12, p. 32). Freud adopted the term, which he called “felicitous” [treffend] (1912a, p. 102; trans. mod.), though he did qualify this in a footnote, which probably referred to Jung’s concept of “introversion psychosis or neurosis” (Jung, 1911/12, p. 32), “[e]ven though some of Jung’s remarks give the impression that he regards this introversion as something which is characteristic of dementia praecox and does not come into account in the same way in other neuroses” (Freud, 1912a, p. 102; “dementia praecox” was the term for the syndrome that is now known under Bleuler’s [1908, 1911] term “schizophrenia”). Jung replied in a letter to Freud: “So far as the concept of introversion is concerned, I consider it to be a universal phenomenon, though it has a special significance in Dem. praec.” (Freud & Jung, 1974, p. 486). Freud used the term nineteen times in his own works, for the last time in 1920 in Beyond the Pleasure Principle (1920, p. 51; cf. Guttman et al., 1995).
15 My translation from the original German edition.
16 In a footnote of 1912, not kept in the 1952 and CW editions, Jung added: “Introversion = going into the mother, sinking into one’s own inner world or libido source” (Jung, 1911/12, p. 332).
17 Only “a handwritten manuscript of it exists, entitled ‘On the theory of psychoanalysis: review of a few new works’ ” (Shamdasani, 2003, p. 56).
18 Unfortunately, the first English translation of this paper, carried forward into the Collected Works, lost the past tense, and the text simply reads, “I propose to use the terms extraversion and introversion to describe these two opposite movements of libido” (CW 6, § 860).
19 That is, in their original form, as opposed to the later, reworked versions as they now appear in the Gesammelte Werke and the Collected Works (see Bibliography Note about Jung’s works).
20 Further evidence that Jung originally equated transference with extraversion, at least in the latter’s “regressive” mode.
21 John Kerr adds another author: “Quite possibly, … the important step that Jung took at the Munich congress [i.e., the introduction of his introversion/extraversion typology] had occurred to him while reading Freud’s paper” (1993, p. 464), “Types of onset of neurosis” (Freud, 1912b). If true, this would be a quite sensational find—Jung being inspired to his probably most influential contribution to psychology by Freud himself. In fact, this is highly unlikely, indeed unthinkable. First, as has been shown above, Jung had already introduced the nucleus of this typology in Transformations and Symbols of the Libido (still using the term “transference” for extraversion), written before Freud’s paper. Second, in his paper Freud merely described four types of precipitating causes of falling ill—and not psychological personality types—one of those causes being frustration [Versagung]. In that context he used Jung’s already previously introduced concept of “introversion of the libido” to describe the effect of frustration, that is, the “risk of the libido becoming ‘introverted,’ ” adding in a footnote: “To use a term introduced by C. G. Jung” (1912b, p. 232). There is no mentioning of anything similar to extraversion. What Freud did, however, was to draw attention to another cause, whose discovery “was in fact only possible … through searching analytic investigations following on the Zurich school’s theory of complexes” (ibid., p. 233): the inability to adapt to reality and to fulfill the demands of reality. Instead of being a source of inspiration, or even plagiarism, for Jung, then, Freud’s paper in contrast freely borrowed from him and the “Zurich school” and openly acknowledged their contributions.
22 This in accordance with his view that “sciences … are symptoms of man’s soul” (1930/31, § 752; emphasis in the original). The term Jung used in the original German is analytische Psychologie, which was translated as “psychoanalysis” in the Collected Works. Jung seems to have first used the former term in 1912 (“New paths in psychology”; § 410) to designate the “new psychology” founded by Freud (synonymous with “depth psychology,” which is Bleuler’s term)—hence, clearly not in the sense in which he used it later on, namely, as one possible name for his own psychology.
23 Jung found himself in a logical dilemma because he used two different concepts of “truth.” The “two truths” he mentioned are actually just two different, if valid, perceptions of one and the same situation. In German the difference between the concepts would be that between “Wahrnehmung” (perception) and “Wahrheit” (truth).
24 For example, in chronological order: “[W]e do not possess a physics of the soul, and are not even able to observe it and judge it from some Archimedean point ‘outside’ ourselves, and can therefore know nothing objective about it since all knowledge of the psyche is itself psychic” (1911/12, § 344). “[P]sychology … lacks the Archimedean point outside and hence the possibility of objective measurement” (1926, § 163). “[T]he mind cannot apprehend its own form of existence, owing to the lack of an Archimedean point outside” (1938[1937], § 18; cf. ibid., §§ 87, 377). “To inquire into the substance of what has been observed is possible in natural science only where there is an Archimedean point outside. For the psyche, no such outside standpoint exists” (1945/46, § 384). “[P]sychology … lacks the immense advantage of an Archimedean point such as physics enjoy” (1946/47, § 421). “I do not imagine for a moment that I can stand above or beyond the psyche, so that it would be possible to judge it, as it were, from some transcendental Archimedean point ‘outside’ ” (1951, § 254). Jung maintained, however, that a “spiritual goal that points beyond the purely natural man and his worldly existence is an absolute necessity for the health of the soul; it is the Archimedean point from which alone it is possible to lift the world off its hinges and to transform the natural state into a cultural one” (1926, § 159).
25 Interestingly, he did not publish his presidential address in the organ of the International Psycho-Analytical Association, the Jahrbuch, of which he was still the managing editor.
26 This review has not yet been translated into English. Quotes are my translation from the original German.
27 In a letter to Smith Ely Jelliffe of 5 March 1915, Jung confirmed that during that time he had been “especially working about the two types of psychology and about the synthesis of unconscious tendencies” (Burnham, 1983, pp. 196–97).
28 At the time, Jung was also working on his so-called Black Books which formed the template for the Liber Novus or Red Book (Jung, 2009). As Shamdasani notes, the “Black Books run consecutively until July 21, 1914, and recommence on June 3, 1915. In the hiatus, Jung wrote the Handwritten Draft” (ibid., pp. 225–26). Shamdasani also points to the fact (personal communication) that the next entry in the Black Books is only on 14 September 1915, so it is clear that the bulk of Jung’s discussions with Schmid took place during that pause, and that he then returned to the Black Books.
29 In his obituary of Schmid, Jung wrote: “At that time we were especially interested in the question of the relativity of psychological judgments, or in other words, the influence of temperament on the formation of psychological concepts. As it turned out, he developed instinctively an attitude type which was the direct opposite of my own” (1932, § 1714).
30 The distinction between directed thinking as a modality of consciousness and “undirected” or “merely associative” thinking as a modality of the unconscious, had been put forward by Jung (influenced by William James) in 1911, two years before his first paper on psychological types (cf. Jung 1911/12, part I, chap. 2).
31 Deirdre Bair even finds that “Schmid expressed his views with a maturity that made Jung, by contrast, seem juvenile, aggressive, and unfair” (2003, p. 279). I would argue, rather, that Jung comes across as unafraid to show an avuncular stance toward Schmid, one that we sense he fully expects Schmid to refuse, and thus is offering his friend every opportunity to declare his own standpoint and his freedom from all external influence, including Jung’s. Such a stance, however, makes the correspondence more flattering to Schmid than to Jung.
32 This was translated by Dora Hecht into English the same year under the title The Psychology of the Unconscious Processes, Being a Survey of the Modern Theory and Method of Analytical Psychology, and reprinted in the second edition of Collected Papers on Analytical Psychology, edited by Constance Long (Jung, 1917b). The versions of it contained in the GW and the CW, renamed Über die Psychologie des Unbewussten and On the Psychology of the Unconscious respectively, represent the final form the text took, as the second of Jung’s Two Essays on Analytical Psychology, after two major revisions he made to it in 1925 and 1942. Translations from the original German text are my own.
33 As he also clearly stated in another text of 1916: “The introversion type knows only the thinking principle, the extraversion type only the feeling principle” (1916a, § 482).
34 Cf. also the frequent references to the constant misunderstandings between the two types, and the tendency to devalue the other—no doubt also on the basis of his own experiences, not least in his relationship with Schmid—which run like a red thread through his descriptions in Psychological Types (chap. X).
35 We know about Freud’s low opinion of this work from his dry reaction toward Abraham: “A woman patient of Jung’s has sent me his new work on the psychology of the Ucs. so that I should change my judgment on the noble character. It bears the date 1917. But he seems not to have gone beyond the crude conversion into theory of the fact that he came across myself and Adler” (Freud & Abraham, 2002, p. 353).
36 In 1919 Jung gave a talk on “Instinct and the unconscious” (Jung, 1919), in which he compared instinct and intuition, in the following way: “It is a process analogous to instinct, with the difference that whereas instinct is a purposive impulse to carry out some highly complicated action, intuition is the unconscious, purposive apprehension of a highly complicated situation. In a sense, therefore, intuition is the reverse of instinct” (ibid., § 269).
37 Cf. also the introduction: “A deeper study of the problem has shown this equation [i.e., introversion-thinking and extraversion-feeling] to be untenable” (1921, § 7); or a similar statement in ibid., § 248.
38 This is the date of the preface, and Jung “always dated his prefaces when he had finished the book” (Hannah, 1976, p. 134).
39 So far, only two somewhat longer passages have been reprinted in English, both from letter 9 J (Jung, 1973b, pp. 30–32; van der Post, 1976, pp. 123–24).