INTJ Diaries: The Monster or the Man?

Dear Diary, 
I have done something very stupid. Very, very stupid.

It's a well-known fact that INTJs don't make mistakes very well. It's not that we don't make mistakes, even though that's what we'd like you to believe, it's that we don't make them well. When we screw up, we tend to screw up big. No half-assing things for us. And then, we try to fix it. And if we can't fix it, we ignore it and hope it goes away.

We're not proud of this.

Victor Frankenstein is, without a doubt, an INTJ.

While my companion contemplated with a serious and satisfied spirit the magnificent appearances of things, I delighted in investigating their causes. The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine. Curiosity, earnest research to learn the hidden laws of nature, gladness akin to rapture, as they were unfolded to me, are among the earliest sensations I can remember. (26)

An insatiable curiosity paired with vehement passions toward learning and a love of solitude. "It was my temper," he says, "to avoid a crowd, and to attach myself fervently to a few." (26) A one-track mind and penchant for seeking vengeance. A desire not just for knowledge, but for things unknown by mortal man. "It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn," he says. (27) INTJ.

He spends his childhood reading ancient philosophers and scientists, disregarding the warnings of anyone else that the men he is studying have no basis in fact because the naysayers don't understand the books the way he does. He goes to university and behaves much the same way, dedicating himself to science and to the service of professors he finds thinking along the same wavelengths that he is, accomplishing great things in a short amount of time.

INTJs love people who think the way we do. They're easy to talk to, easy to understand, and we don't usually have to bother explaining ourselves to them. People who don't understand what we're talking about but desire to are okay, they just take more time and effort. People who don't understand and don't care to get ignored. But people who don't understand and try to talk down to us because of it? Well, they're unforgivable. (Even if they're right.)

The last group, however, is usually the one that spurs us onto things. We learn most of what we know while trying to prove people wrong, and as a result, we know a lot. And we're good at proving people wrong. But sometimes it's random happenstance that will spur us on the most. An overheard snippet of conversation, a perfectly placed scene. When Victor stumbles into a lecture, his life is changed forever, pulling together all the pieces he's spent his entire life cultivating.

As he went on I felt as if my soul were grappling with a palpable enemy; one by one the various keys were touched which formed the mechanism of my being: chord after chord was sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose. So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein, — more, far more, will I achieve: treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation. (37)

INTJs don't think small. I don't think we're capable of it. We tend to have "all or nothing" approaches to everything we do. "Go big or go home" is our life's motto, though we don't actually believe in the going home part. And once we're set on a track, almost nothing will remove us from it.

And so starts the downhill spiral of Victor Frankenstein's mental state.

He vows to himself to unfold the deepest mysteries of creation, and so he does it. INTJs don't believe in the word "impossible," and when we set out to do something, we'll do it. One way or another. Often this results in the deterioration of our social lives, our tempers, and even our health.

My cheek had grown pale from study, and my person had become emaciated with confinement. [. . . ] Sometimes I grew alarmed at the wreck I perceived I had become; the energy of my purpose alone sustained me. (42, 44)

It's not that we don't recognize what's happening: we do. We just don't care. We become so absorbed in our work that nothing else really matters. Bodies heal. People come and go. But this, whatever we're working on, this is the end all be all of our existence. If we don't succeed, we fail. If we quit, we fail. If we don't finish, we fail. The only way out is complete success. Or death.

And so, of course, Victor succeeds in creating an animate being.

(source)

But, when he has finally succeed at his life's work, he looks upon it in horror and disgust. He played God, and it was not good.

INTJs, while absorbed in their work, tend to get major tunnel vision. I've already mentioned how nothing but the work matters, but we also don't see anything but the immediate work and it's original long-term goal. Consequences don't matter; we'll deal with them once we're done. If we're truly engrossed, we don't stop to consider the morality of what we're doing or the effect it will have on society or the future... we see only fame and the avoidance of failure.

His success is short-lived. He runs from the creature, hides from it. He cannot bring himself to destroy the thing he has spent so long working on, but he hates it. And thus he loses his only chance to fix his problem, to kill the creature, and it becomes stronger than he, living its own story with its own morality.

And Victor is left with the weight of what he's done. The guilt that plagues him after the creature commits murder, the horrific thoughts of what the creature might do next, the paranoia that accompanies knowing everything that could happen. But, more than all this, he's left with the notion that even though he was successful, he is a failure. All his work has amounted to nothing but horror for him and everyone near him.

I, not in deed, but in effect, was the true murderer. [. . .] I was encompassed by a cloud which no beneficial influence could penetrate. (80)

In this state the creature finds him and begs a favor. A mate. For Victor to make another like him. He at first vehemently rejects the notion. This one creature was enough. He had succeeded in his experiments and the result had been abhorrent. But the creature makes an argument, and one thing an INTJ can't ignore is a good argument.

My heart was full, and I did not answer him; but as I proceeded, I weighed the various arguments that he had used, and determined at least to listen to his tale. I was partly urged by curiosity, and compassion confirmed my resolution. I had hitherto supposed him to be the murderer of my brother, and I eagerly sought a confirmation or denial of this opinion. For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator toward his creature were, and that I ought to render him happy before I complained of his wickedness. (88)

And so Victor listened to the creature's story. He saw validity in its arguments, he saw the completion—the intelligent completion—of his life's work. And his pride latched onto the only thing it had left: the duty of the creator.

Pride is the INTJ's number one downfall. It motivates most of what we do. Often it's pride in ourselves—we think we're pretty cool, after all, and the smartest in any given room—but more often it's pride in our work. We have nothing if we don't have the fullness of success, of recognition, of being better than literally everyone else.

But we're also logical, able to see every side of an argument when we're not engrossed in something. That's one of the reasons we become so good at proving people wrong: we're able to anticipate arguments and have already formed a counter argument before the initial argument is out of your mouth.

And so with this logic, Victor comes to his senses about making another creature and redirects his pride to himself. "You may render me the most miserable of men," he says, "but you shall never make me base in my own eyes." (127) This statement made me laugh out loud, I have to admit. Victor regrets everything he's done up to this point. He thinks he's the most evil and base of all men. But there's a little part of him that clings to his pride.

His first creation was in the name of discovery. He can deal with the consequences because he doesn't believe himself to have done anything wrong. He doesn't regret playing God, he regrets what came of it.

So he tells the creature that no, he won't make a mate for it, because to do so against his better judgment, to repeat a mistake, to repeat a ghastly, horrific lapse in planning, would be to become base in his own eyes.

INTJs make mistakes, but we don't make them twice.

The creature of course, is unhappy with this, and Victor is moved when the creature grovels and appeals to his pride. "Oh! my creator," it says, "make me happy; let me feel gratitude towards you for one benefit!" (128) Moved by sympathy and pride again in his creation, Victor relents.

But it's not an easy task.

I clung to every pretense of delay, and shrank from taking the first step in an undertaking whose immediate necessity began to appear less absolute to me. (135)

You know how I said INTJs are good at proving people wrong? Well, we can use that power on ourselves, to an extent. Victor doesn't want to go, doesn't want to start on this abhorrent new task set before him. It wasn't something he chose; it isn't something he wants to do. And so he begins to talk himself out of it. The longer he delays, the less necessary it seems.

Since INTJs are so able to compartmentalize our minds, if we don't attend to something right away, it loses potency due to other concerns taking its place. Victor puts off starting this task, and nothing happens. Nothing continues to happen. And so life slowly creeps back in and he starts to think that maybe this task that seemed so necessary when it took up the entirety of his mind, might not be that necessary after all.

But eventually he begins, and its just as horrible as he thinks it will be. Before he can bring the second creation to life, he has a change of heart. The creature is furious and murders Victor's best friend.

Victor moves back home and is brought slightly back to happiness by his impending marriage to Elizabeth. But, since INTJs are forever stuck in our own minds, residing half there and half in the real world, this happiness doesn't last long.

The tranquility which I now enjoyed did not endure. Memory brought madness with it; and when I thought of what had passed, a real insanity possessed me; sometimes I was furious and burnt with rage; sometimes low and despondent. I neither spoke, nor looked at any one, but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries that overcame me. (171)

INTJs aren't good with feelings. Victor spends the majority of the book overcome with some feeling or another, and we see how well he handles it. Now, of course, is no different, and he goes from rage to despondency with little differentiation. At his lowest of lows, he sits motionless, overwhelmed and confused by all the negative emotions he's experiencing. On top of the failure he felt upon the creation of the first creature, he now has the failures of agreeing to make a second, then going back on his word to make a second, causing more miseries in his life and the lives of those he loves. His life is a wreck—everyone's lives are a wreck—and he knows its his fault. That's not something anyone can handle, let alone someone who starts out life feeling as though he has the weight of the world and all its secrets on his shoulders.

I couldn't resist. (source)

The creature kills Elizabeth, as Victor knew it would, and he finally tips into madness and is thrown into an insane asylum. As for any INTJ, madness is not an escape for long, and Victor eventually comes back to his senses and is released.

Liberty, however, had been an useless gift to me, had I not, as I awakened to reason, at the same time awakened to revenge. 178-179

He makes a vow to himself, much like he made a vow all those years ago to uncover the secrets of the universe. He knows this one will kill him, and he doesn't care. He vows to kill the creature, to return the world to the state it was before his pride brought ruin to it.

He tells a criminal judge of his plan—ever practical—and is not met with the response he hoped for. INTJs, when they're passionate about something, expect others to be passionate as well. We didn't spend our lives honing our arguing skills for people to meet us with lukewarm sentiments, or worse, patronizing words.

So when Victor is met by the judge with soothing words, he cries what might be one of the most INTJ things he says throughout the entire book: "Man, how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!" (180) Oh, the irony of it. Every single one of Victor's problems came about because of his pride of wisdom. He thought he knew more, thought he could uncover more, thought he could discern the secrets of the universe. And so when this man doesn't believe his tale, doesn't share his passion, he knows what he's seeing and calls it for what it is.

One thing INTJs love—and truly, they hate it, but they will do it until the day they die—is lecturing people to not make the same mistakes they did. They won't use those words, though, because to admit a mistake is to admit weakness. And we don't do that. But if we made a mistake, we know all the reasons why someone else shouldn't do it, and we'll make every argument to convince them not to. "Been there, done that" is the most we'll say on that front, and Victor doesn't even go that far. He deems the man unworthy of his time and decides to hunt the creature on his own.

He has nothing left for him, and so he will devote everything he has to this one last project.

While most INTJs don't create life and end up inadvertently murdering multiple people because of it, we all react roughly the same way. We dedicate ourselves to projects, we run from our mistakes until we've had time to figure out what to do about them, we live in clouds of guilt and misery until everything is taken care of, and sometimes even after.

We're not proud of this, but we'd never admit that.

If your INTJ makes a mistake, the surest way to become dead to them is to point it out, and especially to point it out to other people. Offer practical ways to help them fix it or distract their mind until they've taken care of the problem. If they won't take care of it, tell them straight up that they're being an idiot and avoiding their problems. They'll be mad, but they'll appreciate the honesty. But the best thing you can do for your INTJ is to take care of them in the throes of a project. I guarantee they'll forget to take care of themselves, so feed them and remind them to sleep and take a shower. But don't nag them. And while you're feeding them, if you see their project taking a turn for the dangerous, tell them. They'll love you for it, even if it takes a while.

All quotes taken from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, Collins Classics Edition, 2016.

Continue Reading →

INTJ Diaries: Jane Austen Is My Homegirl

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
To make long sentences upon unpleasant subjects is very odious, and I shall therefore get rid of the one now uppermost in my thoughts as soon as possible. (1801)

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
Where shall I begin? Which of all my important nothings shall I tell you first? (1808)

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
I have a magnificent project. (1811)

Sometimes you read an author's works and you just don't get it. You don't understand why they're famous, you can barely slog through their overworked prose, you don't connect with their words at all. And then sometimes... sometimes it just clicks. You read their thoughts, the words they put to feelings you experience daily, the thoughts that have been nagging at you for as long as you can remember, and you're certain that had the fabric of space and time been folded differently, the two of you would have been great friends.

For me, one of those authors is Jane Austen.

Previously, I showcased Mr. Darcy as the poster child for a healthy INTJ, claiming that the reason he's such a good example is because I believe Jane Austen herself was an INTJ. No one else could have so convincingly and subtly written one without making him the villain, and I don't think I've ever so strongly identified with a character as I have with Mr. Darcy, regardless of the fact that he is male and lived approximately two hundred years before me.

And, after doing some research into Jane Austen herself, there are very few authors I identified with so completely. Maybe C.S. Lewis or Lewis Carroll, who, wait for it, were also INTJs.

Jane Austen's novels were the novels of her day, albeit with a smarter and more timeless bent. They were romances, set in country estates, revolving around balls and letters and misunderstandings. But more than that, her novels were written in such a way to stand as stories while critiquing the more flighty and silly novels that were being published and lauded. Her characters were mockeries of both popular characters and people she knew, and her novels themselves mocked the conventions expected of women and society in general at the time.

"And what are you reading, Miss — ?”
"Oh! It is only a novel!” replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. “It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda”; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best–chosen language."

Northanger Abbey, from which this quote comes, is a parody of a Gothic novel, one of the popular genres of the day. The heroine fancies her life to be like a Gothic novel, and Austen spends the entire book mocking her, and thus the notion that girls shouldn't read novels, for it. She is repeatedly shown to be completely oblivious to life--in short, the type of girl society supposed would read novels.

Of course, for an author of novels, this was absurdity to the highest degree. "The person," she writes in this same novel, "be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid." Preach it, Jane.

But of course, the bulk of her personality, her beliefs, and her wit is going to come through in her letters, particularly those to her sister Cassandra, which I referenced at the beginning of this article, as they constitute what would have conceivably been in Jane Austen's diary. It's speculated that Austen wrote near 3000 letters over the course of her life, but most were burned, cut, or destroyed, lest people, especially younger relatives, should be privy to her scathing remarks concerning people they knew. Only about 160 letters were preserved, and, given what's in those letters, I can hardly imagine what was destroyed.

At the bottom of Kingsdown Hill we met a gentleman in a buggy, who, on minute examination, turned out to be Dr. Hall -- and Dr. Hall in such very deep mourning that either his mother, his wife, or himself must be dead. (1799)

She has no tact and doesn't care one whit if other people know it. She grabs onto the absurd and presents it with such sincerity that if you weren't looking for it, you'd have hardly noticed it. If you know an INTJ, watch them. They'll do this a lot.

She writes a lot on the goings on about her: who's marrying whom, who's visiting from out of town, who's having children. On the birth of one such child, the most recent in what we can only assume is a great many, she comments:

I would recommend to her and Mr. D. the simple regimen of separate rooms. (1817)

No wonder at the birth of a child, no congratulations for the happy parents. Simply a commentary that maybe they should stop sharing a bedroom so they'll stop reproducing. And again, in one of her more tactless comments, she remarks on a miscarriage one of her neighbors had:

Mrs. Hall, of Sherborne, was brought to bed yesterday of a dead child, some weeks before she expected, owing to a fright. I suppose she happened unawares to look at her husband. (1978)

She must have looked at her husband. Ouch. But it's also funny, almost shockingly so. It's unexpected; it makes light of serious subjects. If you keep watching your INTJ, you'll notice that they do this a lot, too. We don't feel deeply about things that don't affect us; if we did, we'd lose all sense of perspective and probably spiral into a deep depression. So we make light of things that shouldn't be made light of, much to the shock (and sometimes awe) of those around us.

INTJs are also master people watchers. While many of the types--especially the types that choose writing as a profession--take up people watching, few, if any, can approach it with uncanny accuracy that an INTJ can. We treat people watching as we treat every other aspect of our lives: with scientific accuracy, holistic knowledge, and an all-consuming interest. We see patterns in people; we get good at predicting how someone will react to any given scenario, testing ourselves when out and about and refining our knowledge when we're wrong, until we're no longer wrong.

(source)

It helps that we're immune to emotional manipulation. Where another type might feel empathy, sympathy, or some other feeling that would trump thought upon seeing a person crying, an INTJ without a conscious decision to act otherwise would feel mostly detached curiosity. This is how Jane Austen saw life, how she was able to wrap people into her novels, caring for them while also mercilessly mocking them, but never--never--turning them into caricatures. Her people were always believable people, regardless how many flaws she gave them.

But no matter how accurate to life her characters were, she could never treat them with anything more than she treated people in real life. She noticed everything about people: she noticed their sins, their quirks, their follies, their strengths. And rather than harshly judge them for it, she simply saw it all as amusing. People are people, and people will always continue to be people. What good is it to do anything but laugh?

I could no more write a [historical] romance than an epic poem. I could not sit seriously down to write a serious romance under any other motive than to save my life; and if it were indispensable for me to keep it up and never relax into laughing at myself or other people, I am sure I should be hung before I had finished the first chapter. (1816)

I feel this sentiment to my soul. The feedback in almost every writing class I took was to add more emotion to my stories, to treat things seriously, to make the reader feel everything. And no matter how much I tried, I couldn't make anything I wrote sound completely serious without also sounding completely hokey. I wish Jane Austen had been there to tell me that it was okay, that I could take my deeply unserious stories and turn them into something great, something filled with emotion that not only made readers today feel, but readers two hundred years later.

Austen's brother Henry tells us, "She became an authoress entirely from taste and inclination." She saw that the serious romances of the time weren't of interest to her, so she wrote her own. She wrote what entertained her, and it entertained everyone else as well. INTJs tend not to believe in the word "impossible." If we see something that we don't like, and we care enough to fix it, we will. It's as simple as that.

In the first chapter of Northanger Abbey, the narrator says, "Strange things may be generally accounted for if their cause be fairly searched out." This is an INTJ's mindset in a nutshell. It is an obvious truth to Austen, who tucks it neatly in the middle of a particularly satirical passage.

It is in this searching and accounting for things that Austen's writing really shines. Not only does she people watch like a pro, she learns their motivations and their place within society--not in the society that claimed women shouldn't write novels, but the society that existed in her mind, the practicalities of everyday life. And thus her characters practically jumped off the page.

INTJs aren't concerned with the particulars of life, the small details of society that have no bearing on them personally. Sherlock doesn't care that the earth revolves around the sun. Mr. Darcy doesn't like to dance. Jane Austen cared not at all that women in her society were supposed to be proper, were supposed to refrain from reading novels. There was a war going on as she wrote most of her novels, but the most mention she makes of this is when it affects one of her characters directly: when the militia is in town, for example, bringing lots of eligible young men. She wrote about human nature, the one thing that will endure as long as humanity is around, and moreover she understood human nature, and so her novels are timeless.

But, like most INTJs, the fact that she understood human nature simply meant that she liked it less.

She is cantankerous and constantly annoyed with humanity, the fate of many an INTJ, and she knows it. There is a weird paradox that exists between INTJs and people: we're angry, bitter, conceited, and a great many other negative adjectives, and yet, because we're aware of this fact and treat those emotions with the same indifference we show the rest of our lives, people like us for it. I still don't totally understand it, other than the "you're so funny!" comments I get on the regular.

"You deserve a longer letter than this; but it is my unhappy fate seldom to treat people so well as they deserve," (1798) she writes, and yet her brother said of her, "No one could be often in her company without feeling a strong desire of obtaining her friendship."

Maybe this disconnect comes from the loyalty INTJs display once they've deemed someone worth their time. Loyalty might even be the wrong word for it. It's a stubborn affection, a commitment to like a person and enjoy their company for conceivably ever, unless something happens to cause the INTJ to cut ties completely. Once an INTJ likes you, however, this is very very very unlikely.

There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.

Austen writes this in Northanger Abbey, but it may as well have come from her letters. All her words are colored with the fact that she cares very little for the people of the neighborhood that she so scathingly writes about, but she would do anything for those she loves: her sister Cassandra, for example, or her niece Fanny.

I sometimes like to think of Jane Austen as the nice lady down the street who takes care of widows and orphans, is always nice to her neighbors, and yet, just to entertain you, tells hilarious stories about people, nailing their personalities, quirks, and flaws, and weaving a world in which humanity’s foolishness is no more harmful than a few hurt feelings and awkward situations. It’s not for no reason that Austen aficionados refer to her as "Aunt Jane."

She of course had all the typical INTJ quirks and faults, as well. She thinks herself brilliant and exceedingly witty: "Expect a most agreeable letter, for not being overburdened with subject (having nothing at all to say), I shall have no check to my genius from beginning to end." (1801) Though, to be fair, she was both of those things. She has incredibly high standards for not only the people she meets (few measure up, as you can tell by her writings), but for a romantic partner as well. She loved one man, did not marry him because it was impractical for both of them, and no one ever quite measured up to him again, and so she died unmarried.

While some of her novels may seem boring or clichéd to the uninformed reader--the reader, perhaps, who has not pleasure in a good novel--they show a complex and intelligent woman who understood life and let it amuse her. In an outline to one of her novels, she details her heroine, in all her moral and worldly glory, then she writes, "Heroine must meet with the Hero—all perfection of course." Accurate to every girl’s fantasy, the female protagonist is complex and wonderful, but the hero doesn’t have any recognizable features: he is simply perfection. Of course. She gives no cares whatsoever about what is proper, what is expected of her, what is societally correct. She is an INTJ to the core.

And, like any true INTJ, she pauses one of her letters to say this:

I have got so many things to say, so many things equally important, that I know not on which to decide at present, and shall therefore go and eat with the children. (1799)

I have much more I could say about Dear Aunt Jane, I could laud her merits and her wit for days. (Possibly quite literally, though I've never tried.) But, as I cannot decide what else is important enough to add as everything about her is so equally wonderful, I will go eat with an episode of Arrested Development.

What do you love most about Aunt Jane?

Continue Reading →

INTJ Diaries: Aaron Burr, Sir

Dear Diary,

I'm done. Hamilton started the game, but I'm going to finish it.

A while back, I talked about the merits and strength of an INTJ/ENTP friendship. Now I'd like to explore the other side of that coin (er... ten-dollar bill?). While INTJs and ENTPs can complement each other nicely, they don't always. Check out the ENTP thread on the INTJ subreddit, and you'll find all sorts of mixed views. Sometimes iron sharpens iron for the better, and sometimes, well, one or the other is stretched a little too far. And then they snap. 

How does Hamilton--an arrogant immigrant orphan bastard whoreson--somehow endorse Thomas Jefferson--a man he's despised since the beginning--just to keep me from winning? ...you've kept me from the room where it happens for the last time.

Hamilton's Aaron Burr is the perfect example of an INTJ's descent into vengeance and madness. He starts the show amiable, helpful, quiet and reserved, but generally willing to lend a hand where needed. But little things add up, more and more things start to nag, start to burn, and eventually he's had enough. He makes a rash decision--something INTJs should never do--and, well, the rest is history. Literally. But let's start at the beginning.

So Hamilton, this wet-behind-the-ears, nineteen-year-old kid finds Burr in a bar and is like, "Hey! Hey! You don't know me but I heard your name at school and I want to be just like you!" And Burr is like, "Well, okay, sure. Who are you?" The conversation continues and eventually Burr says, "Dude. Calm down. Here's a tip: Talk less. Smile More. Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for." This is the INTJ motto. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your thoughts and beliefs closest of all. It's not that we don't think we have good things to say. On the contrary--we hold ourselves in very high esteem. It's just that we know mystery is power. The less people know about us, the easier we can surprise them, the easier we can confound them. The easier we can win.

The rest of the show is essentially Hamilton not listening to that advice.

(source)

Burr, like all good INTJs, spends a while trying to keep Hamilton in check. He's the exasperated father of the revolutionaries. But then George Washington enters the mix. Burr sees this as a chance to put himself to good use, a chance to advance in the ranks, to make something of himself.

Your excellency, sir! Permission to state my case? I was a captain under General Montgomery until he caught a bullet in the neck in Quebec and well, in summary, I think that I could be of some assistance. I admire how you keep firing on the British from a distance. I have some questions, a couple of suggestions on how to fight instead of fleeing west...

This is the perfect INTJ introduction. He asks permission to speak and has it all planned out. He gives background, states his purpose, slips in a compliment, is polite and succinct, and has reasoning for everything he says. But then Hamilton enters the tent and it comes to light that Washington had asked to see Hamilton. Burr is dismissed without a second thought. That's a blow to the pride if there ever was one. We don't deal with that well.

(source)

So Burr disappears for a bit while Hamilton courts Eliza, and shows up again at the wedding where he's mocked by all his friends and it's revealed that he's dating a British officer's wife. During this conversation, he tells Hamilton to "be sensible" (the rallying cry of INTJs everywhere), and later, Hamilton says to Burr, "I will never understand you" (the rallying cry of everyone confronted with an INTJ). So Burr explains himself. If you read my last INTJ Diaries, you'll recall that INTJs love a chance to explain themselves. Burr is no exception. Enter "Wait For It"--the most important song for Burr's character.

Let's break it down step by step.

Love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints--it takes and it takes and it takes. And we keep loving anyway. We laugh and we cry and we break and we make our mistakes, and if there's a reason I'm by her side when so many have tried, then I'm willing to wait for it. I'm willing to wait for it.

INTJs have both a very black and white and very grey view of the world. We see that everything is subjective--"love/death/life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints"--which accounts for the grey. Nothing is set in stone because everything depends on people and people are notoriously unreliable. But we're also very set in our belief that everything is subjective. We know how the world works and we know what's going to happen--"we laugh and we cry and we break and we make our mistakes"--so we're able to make black and white judgments frequently and, if I may say so myself, well.

So Burr approaches his relationship, and later, the rest of his life, with this dichotomy of thought, and comes to the conclusion that he's where he is for a reason. He doesn't know that reason yet, but that's okay. Because he's going to wait for it. INTJs are all about the waiting game. In the story of the tortoise and the hare, INTJs are the tortoise. We're slow, we're steady, and we win the race. So Burr, in contrast to Hamilton's crazed mania, is going to wait.

I am the one thing in life I can control.

When I heard this line, I was blown away. So simple, and yet such a deep truth. INTJs know that the world is unreliable; we know that most of life is out of our control despite the fact that we've gotten fairly good at manipulating it. But we can control ourselves. We can talk less and smile more. We can keep our hearts not on our sleeves. We can be mysteries. We can be brilliant. We can be in control. So when Hamilton comes in and screws up all of Burr's pre-laid plans, well, Burr isn't happy. His gut starts to twist and knot. His mind rebels against any sane rationalization and Fi (introverted feeling) starts to take hold in all its underdeveloped glory. Suddenly emotions are dominant, anger is dominant, and he makes a snap decision. But more on that later.

I'm not falling behind or running late. I'm not standing still, I am lying in wait. 

Justification. A common trait of INTJs is being able to justify literally anything. It's a fun mental exercise to see just how far we can take a rational argument. (It pisses people off to no end.) Here, Burr is feeling inadequate. He sees how far and how fast Hamilton has risen. He hears the critiques of his peers, even if he doesn't acknowledge them, and it takes root somewhere deep. So he justifies his actions. He's not falling behind anyone. He's not losing the race of life. He's lying in wait for something greater. The tortoise will win--it'll just take time. He also manages to spin inaction into action. By not moving forward, he's not standing still, he's lying in wait. He's suddenly doing something rather than nothing. Isn't rationalization great?

Hamilton faces an endless uphill climb. He has something to prove. He has nothing to lose. Hamilton's pace is relentless: he wastes no time. What is it like in his shoes? Hamilton doesn’t hesitate. He exhibits no restraint; he takes and he takes and he takes. And he keeps winning anyway. He changes the game he plays and he raises the stakes, and if there’s a reason he seems to thrive when so few survive, then God damn it I'm willing to wait for it. I'm willing to wait for it.

Ah, jealousy. Admiration. Malice. Disgust. It's all in there. Hamilton is doing better--Burr knows this. Burr watches Hamilton and sees everything that Burr himself cannot do. INTJs are generally unable to act without hesitation. We're unable to act without restraint. And we usually view these as weaknesses. They don't lead anywhere good. They lead to unwise actions and early deaths. (Which, granted, is true, at least in this case.) But somehow this way of life is working for Hamilton. He keeps climbing and succeeding and winning. But how? Why?

And this is when Burr acknowledges that they're playing a game. INTJs have a tendency to view the world and all their actions within it as one large chess game. This move causes this move which results in this move: saying that will upset her which will upset him which will allow me to take his queen while he's upset. Every action has a reaction, every move a countermove. Everything follows the rules of the universe, which each INTJ has divined for himself through his interactions with other people. But Hamilton--Hamilton changes the rules and then raises the stakes. He's reckless and it's paying off. And whatever the reason for that is, it'll eventually come to light. And Burr will be there, ready to pounce. Ready to win.

(source)

So this mindset influences how he acts for the rest of the show. He's reached a turning point. At first, Hamilton was just this vaguely annoying kid with some good ideas and a lot of zeal. He was interesting, amusing. But then he started to get the upper hand. So, like any good INTJ, Burr stepped back to reassess the situation and came to the conclusion to wait. And so he waits.

"Dear Theodosia" is a chance to take a break from the deeply personal conflict and see that Hamilton and Burr aren't really that different after all. (Shadow functions, anyone?) They're both trying to do what they think is best. They both want the best for their children. They both want the world to end up more or less the same way, they just have very different ways of going about. There's a small hope that they can go back to getting along, but then Hamilton opens his mouth. 

(source)

"Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?" Burr asks. He has had it about up to here with Hamilton. "Goodness gracious, child," he thinks. "You're not nearly as smart as you think you are. So calm down, and then do us all a favor and shut up."

Then Hamilton comes to Burr in the middle of the night which Burr, as any tired INTJ would, points out. "Is this a legal matter?" he asks. "Yes, and it's important to me," Hamilton replies. Though, really, everything is important to him. "Burr, you're a better lawyer than me. I know I talk too much, I'm abrasive. You're incredible in court! You're succinct, persuasive. My client needs a strong defense--you're the solution." Burr is going, "Yes, yes, tell me something I don't know." And then, of course, he asks, "Who's your client?" and Hamilton timidly responds, "The new U.S. Constitution?" I can almost feel Burr rolling his eyes and sighing.

Burr: No.
Hamilton: Hear me out!
Burr: [Let me rephrase that...] No way!

He's hedging his bets. As much as he secretly admires Hamilton's ability to rush headlong into something and come out the other end successful, he refuses to try it. "But what if you're backing the wrong horse?" he asks. INTJs have to come at everything from every perspective. We see every side of an argument, which is one of the reasons why arguing with us is so irritating. (It's also one of the main reasons INTJs and ENTPs get along. Both types love to argue just for fun.) So he refuses to take a stand and Hamilton goes on to succeed some more.

They meet up again in "The Room Where It Happens," and Burr hits his final straw for going easy on Hamilton:

Hamilton: I'm sorry, Burr, I've got to go.
Burr: But--Hamilton: Decisions are happening over dinner. [Without you.]

Don't get me wrong, he's still going to be civil. Nice, even. But he's done waiting. Burr decides to act. "I want to be in the room where it happens." And that decision is irreversible. It sets him on a course, one that no one could stop.

(source)

See, when INTJs get an idea in their head--one that stays for more than just a fleeting conversation or thought experiment--it's nigh impossible to shake. It becomes an all-consuming force that drives every action and decision until the idea has reached its completion. This is often (frequently) harmful in relationships because if it doesn't have to do with the other person, the other person is mostly ignored. If it does, well, I can't imagine many people are comfortable with that level of scrutiny and obsessiveness. Crushing doesn't usually work well for us.

So, with an end goal decided, Burr runs for senator and beats out Hamilton's father-in-law. Hamilton is, understandably, not happy.

Hamilton: I've always considered you a friend.
Burr: I don't see why that has to end.
Hamilton: You changed parties to run against my father-in-law.
Burr: I changed parties to seize the opportunity I saw. I swear your pride will be the death of us all. Beware: It goeth before the fall.

Burr, in INTJ fashion, doesn't understand why Hamilton is upset. "Of course we can be friends. Why wouldn't we? It's all business." Hamilton, of course, doesn't see it that way. In Hamilton's life, everything is connected. Burr is able to compartmentalize. Burr didn't care who he beat--Schuyler was just the best chance he had. He just wanted power. Hamilton thinks it's a personal slight. The INTJ/ENTP relationship starts to sour. Don't get me wrong, this one was never really good to begin with. But it was fairly neutral. Not anymore.

(source)

Then Burr runs for president. He goes door to door campaigning, which is quite the task for an INTJ. We don't like interacting with people, much less people we don't know. So it only makes sense that Burr says, "Honestly, it's kind of draining." But he has a goal. He has decided what he wants and he will stop at nothing--no matter how unpleasant--to reach that goal.

Hamilton is MIA, and people are begging him for an opinion. "Jefferson or Burr--we know it's lose lose. Jefferson or Burr--but if you had to choose?" I truly believe that Hamilton thought about his answer. Burr was his friend, after all. But then pride--both of theirs--got in the way. So Hamilton responds:

If you were to ask me who I'd promote-- Jefferson has my vote. I have never agreed with Jefferson once. We have fought on like seventy-five different fronts. But when all is said and all is done, Jefferson has beliefs. Burr has none.

And, as the chorus properly responds, "OOOHHHHHHHH." And see, this may seem to be the case: INTJs hedge their bets, we keep our beliefs close, we don't talk much. We rarely take stands, because usually it's not worth the effort and we can be much more effective working quietly behind the scenes. But it's untrue. Aaron Burr believed in his family. He believed in his friends. He believed in himself. He even once believed in Hamilton. He believed in America, but he knew we had to be careful. He believed in stability and constancy. But to Hamilton--loud, opinionated, do-first-ask-questions-later Hamilton--it would appear that Burr has no beliefs to stick to.

(source)

So Burr lost the election. But he loses with grace and dignity. He congratulates Jefferson and tells him, "I look forward to our partnership." To which Jefferson responds by mocking him and throwing back in his face that Hamilton chose to endorse Jefferson, even though the two hated each other. And Burr goes, "You know what? You're right."

Dear Alexander:
I am slow to anger, but I toe the line, as I reckon with the effects of your life on mine. I look back on where I failed, and in every place I checked, the only common thread has been your disrespect. Now you call me “amoral,” a “dangerous disgrace"--if you’ve got something to say, name a time and place, face to face.
I have the honor to be your obedient servant,A. Burr

It's calm, it's collected, it's pure ice. See, that's another thing about INTJs. When we get angry, we get quiet(er). It's not so much "I'm angry with you" as "You're dead to me." But Burr gives Hamilton a chance here. He goes, "You've effectively ruined my life, but let's fight it out. What's your reasoning?" Hamilton proceeds to be Hamilton, and Burr responds: "Careful how you proceed, good man. Intemperate, indeed, good man." Hamilton is quickly losing any and all chances to defend his actions. And then he loses them all. "Then stand, Alexander. Weehawken. Dawn. Guns drawn."

Burr has been pushed too far. He has reached the limits of quiet forbearance, and he makes a rash decision. Hamilton dies.

(source)

And Burr is struck with instant regret. Then that regret grows.

Now I'm the villain in your history. I was too young and blind to see. I should have known that the world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me.

That's generally what happens when INTJs make snap decisions. Even if those decisions turn out for the best (not that this one necessarily did), we regret them. We regret not taking the time to think it through. We regret not having the satisfaction that comes with a job well done. We don't particularly like the feeling of a lucky break, because it's not the feeling of personal satisfaction. A snap decision doesn't come from us, it's not something we can really take credit for, good or bad. But we will feel guilt. And we will feel regret. And, depending on the action, our new purpose in life could be to atone for whatever it was we did. "I should have known" becomes our rallying cry.

Alexander Hamilton, the ENTP, was best equipped to drive Aaron Burr to madness. He knew what buttons to push, and, even more than that, he knew how to be better. He knew how to win the game. He succeeded where Aaron Burr failed. Pride went against pride, and no one won.

(source)

So, all this to say, if you start to engage an INTJ in the chess game of life, talk it out before it comes to a life-or-death situation. If Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr had set their egos aside for a few hours and talked out their issues with each other, I don't think things would have escalated quite as quickly or as badly. INTJs have the rules of the universe in their heads, and everything is organized and planned. ENTPs are all about breaking the rules, barging forward without a plan. Together, the two can spur each other to greatness. But pitted against each other, well, one of them ends up dead. And it's not the INTJ.

Continue Reading →

INTJ Diaries: I Love You. Most Ardently.

Dear Diary,

I attended a ball the night before last and have managed to alienate myself from every moderately beautiful woman in the room and, in doing so, most of the pleasanter gentlemen as well. It's a miracle Bingley still spends time with me. I wish I was as charming as I am rich. Can you buy conversing lessons? Flirting lessons? Sigh.

INTJ flirting. Like sighting a unicorn on a cold winter's morn, this almost unheard of phenomenon does actually happen from time to time. If you want to witness it, you must watch very closely--blink and you might miss it.

(source)

For me, there are only two fictional characters whose MBTI type discussions bring to mind the words fight me: Sherlock Holmes and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Mr. Darcy is the poster child for a “normal” INTJ. He's not classified as a genius, he’s not a morally-lacking sociopath, and he's not unnecessarily rude to everyone. At least not purposely. Everything he does stems from his undying devotion to those he cares about and his lack of social graces due to his misunderstanding social cues and his bluntness.

(source)

He thinks he's smarter and better than everyone in the room--and, to be fair, he is the richest, which amounts to the best in that society--but when he meets his match in Elizabeth Bennet, well, he's intrigued. To put it lightly. In all reality, meeting Lizzy Bennet sends him in an obsessive downward spiral full of confusion and self-loathing until he realizes he needs to stop being so… rational.

Their relationship, like any good INTJ relationship, starts out with teasing and irritation on her side and confusion and cluelessness on his. He refuses to dance with her at the ball and calls her “barely tolerable,” but we’ll get back to that in a moment.

The most important scene in the Darcy/Lizzy relationship, in my opinion, is the scene in Netherfield’s sitting room after Jane has fallen ill. Lizzy, Caroline, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy are discussing character.

BURN. (source)

Caroline, intent on impressing Mr. Darcy, suggests that she and Elizabeth walk about the room and asks Mr. Darcy to join them. Mr. Darcy responds that whether they have secrets to discuss or simply think their figures look better in motion, he would only be in the way, and he stays sitting. Caroline pretends to be taken aback, and Lizzy suggests that they find something about him to laugh at. You can almost see his ears perk up at this. Caroline is actually taken aback by this one and says that Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at. (A common trait among INTJs--many people seem to be weirdly intimidated by us.)

(source)

So Lizzy, of course, tries to find a fault of his that she can tease him about. He’s more than willing to oblige: “I have faults enough,” he says, “but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding; certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for ever” (57-58). If you’ve never met an INTJ in real life, well, this is what we look like. On the upside, though, while our good opinion can be lost forever, once it’s well-formed, it’s incredibly hard to shake. Hence the reason Mr. Darcy falls crazy in love with Elizabeth and can’t talk himself out of it, despite how much he tries.

The sweet, sweet, irrational sexual tension. (source)

Lizzy goes on to say that she can’t very well laugh at that, and he responds that every disposition has a tendency toward an irremediable defect.

“And your defect,” Lizzy says, “is a propensity to hate every body.”

“And yours,” he replies with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them” (58).

Thinkers and Feelers, y’all. INTJs will never understand how someone could purposefully see something in someone that isn’t there, whether it’s choosing to believe that everything they do is magic or choosing to see only their worst traits. Feelers (specifically that group that includes INFJ, INFP, ENFJ, ENFP) have no problem with this dichotomy of thought.

Hence most of the difficulties Lizzy and Mr. Darcy run into while falling in love.

But back to the ball.

(source)

When she’s brought to his attention, he’s not impressed. Bingley sees her for what she is: an attractive girl. But Darcy doesn’t know her, isn’t intrigued by her--his interest has yet to be piqued. So it doesn’t really matter if she’s a pretty face or not; he doesn’t really see that. But then she talks to him, teases him and…

(source)

...she has suddenly become much more attractive to him, even though her face and body have not changed in the slightest. In order to be loved by an INTJ, you not only have to attract their body, you have to first and foremost attract their mind.

So then Lizzy shows up at his home in order to see her sister and, well, worse things could happen. They continue to bicker--I’m pretty sure this is his first attempt at flirting--and he starts to say things with smiles rather than the typical INTJ angry resting face. You see this most clearly in the 2005 movie:

Dork. (source)

He stands quickly and awkwardly when she gets into the room and then, when she asks a question, he makes sure that he’s the one to respond. So he says the first helpful thing he can think of and then probably mentally facepalms for the next half hour.

Then, of course, comes the pivotal sitting room scene in which they begin to understand one another.

They continue, for the rest of the story, to get into fights based on misunderstandings (one of the only reasons an INTJ will get into a true fight), and to learn more and more about one another: her by asking questions, him by trying to explain himself. An arduous task, to be sure.

When they’re discussing the ball, he tells her the true reason that he danced with no one: “I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers. [...] I certainly have not the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done” (174). He’s not being a snob, he’s being an INTJ. Totally in over his head in social situations.

(source)

Not fifteen pages later, he proposes. Because that’s a natural progression. He comes to the house she’s staying in, asks her about her health, sits down awkwardly, then just straight-out goes for it: “In vain I have struggled. It will not do.” The ultimate INTJ weakness, struggling without succeeding. Telling her this is his idea of being humble, though for obvious reasons, she doesn’t see it. “My feelings will not be repressed.” I can almost see him shudder at this. Unchecked feelings are the Achilles’ heel to any INTJ. They’re irritating and irrational and they shouldn’t exist. “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you” (188). That’s it. That’s like vulnerability level 98. Meanwhile, Lizzy’s like “you what now? seriously?” and Darcy has absolutely no idea how his intentions could have been misunderstood. She, of course, rejects him, and his pride shoots through the roof. His walls go back up, and he’s Mr. Cool Composure. A girl can’t hurt me, nope, no way. *puts on aviators and a black leather jacket*

But he doesn't hold a grudge because she's still a cool person.

Fast forward in time and Lizzy learns of Lydia’s elopement with Wickham, for which Mr. Darcy just happens to be present. Her face goes pale, and he goes Oh no. What’s wrong? What do I do?? So offers her something to drink. Seriously: “Let me call your maid,” he says. “Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill” (268). I can almost see his hands fluttering uselessly around her.

An INTJ being supportive in an emotional crisis. (source) (source)

When he proves fairly useless at comforting her, he naturally turns to the next most helpful thing he can think of: paying off Wickham to marry Lydia. Because we INTJs don’t believe in doing anything halfway. But he doesn’t do it for Lizzy’s attention--he actually tries to keep it a secret. However. He tries to keep it a secret with Lydia, so there’s a good chance he knew it would get back to Lizzy. And impress her. INTJ flirting instance number two. He even tells her, much later, that he thought only of her (354). Because flirting, like jokes, is best when explained three weeks after the fact.

Some time later, at a dinner party, Lizzy attempts to talk to Mr. Darcy and runs out of topics of mutual interest. “She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on the young lady’s whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away” (330-331). INTJ flirting number three.

Flirting? you might ask. Yes, I would respond. Sort of. Let me enlighten you to what was probably going on in his head: He answers Lizzy’s last question. I should introduce another topic of conversation. There’s nothing interesting to follow that statement. Why didn’t I say something more interesting? Maybe she has something else to say. I’ll stay here. This silence is stretching on for a really long time. I should say something. But now it’s been too long. Saying something would be too awkward. Someone starts whispering to Lizzy. Oh gosh they’re talking about me. She doesn’t actually want me hovering awkwardly over her. Why am I still standing here? He moonwalks awkwardly away with his tea. He wanted interactions to happen. He gave words the chance to happen. He answered everything she asked him. But then his mind got the better of him and he left, disappointing both of them.

(source)

Then he proposes. Again. Those darn unchecked emotions just won’t go away, and Lizzy has just given him a reason to hope (by telling off his aunt--could she get any more intriguing?). So he tries again, for the--even if she had rejected him--last time. An INTJ’s pride can only take so many hits before we crumble and turn into curmudgeonly old hermits. “My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word form you will silence me on this subject forever” (354). Even if she had rejected him a second time, his affections would have remained unchanged. Even if he had married--happily--and had a good life, his affections would have remained unchanged. See, he fell in love with her because he found her interesting. Being interesting made her attractive. And all of this together led him to think that they would be a good match for each other. Given the amount of time he’s had to come to this conclusion, it’s very unlikely that it would ever change without some kind of irreparable disaster. So he could be happy with someone else, but he would forever believe that he and Elizabeth would have made a good match.

But he says he will respect her wishes. He does this, obviously, because he is a gentleman. But also a little because his pride at this point is a bit fragile. He was vulnerable once and she attacked. Once more and he might not be able to handle it.

She accepts. He breathes a sigh of relief, asks her father for permission, and the two live happily ever after.

My heart. (source)

But she wants to know why. Why did he fall in love with her? Why did he fall in love with her? His response melts my heart--partially because I want someone to say it to me and partially because I’m like yes! someone understands! “I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation,” he says. “It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun” (367). INTJs and their emotions, man.

Lizzy and Darcy's blunt conversations, however, are one of my favorite things about this famous couple. They discuss everything. It’s often very much after the fact, granted, but still, they talk it out. Darcy is more than happy to explain himself--that’s the only time INTJs really feel like they’re being understood. Questions are good. Questions allow for odd behavior to be rationally accounted for. And they spark each other’s minds. Sure, they find each other attractive, but first, they find each other interesting. And worth talking to. That--that is the foundation of a good relationship. At least for an INTJ.

Open communication for the win... eventually. (source)

All this to say, if you ever find yourself with the misfortune of being in love with an INTJ, talk it out. There’s a really good chance they don’t know. There’s also a chance they’re in love with you too, and you’ve been missing their attempts at flirting for the past six months because, well, subtle isn’t our strong suit, no matter which way you take it.

And here's Mr. Bingley being cute. Just because. (source)

Fun Fact: Jane Austen was an INTJ, judging by her letters and other writings. Hence the reason she was able to write one who wasn't a psychopath so convincingly.

What's your favorite Mr. Darcy moment?

*All quotes taken from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen; Barnes & Noble Classics edition, 2003.*

Continue Reading →

INTJ Diaries: I’m a High-Functioning Sociopath, Do Your Research

Dear Diary, 

Day 1: John hasn’t shown any ill-effects yet. Will up the dosage tomorrow.

Day 3: That was a dead end. He’s quite perceptive when he wants to be. Pity that’s not more often.
Day 4: You’d think he’d be used to me putting things in his tea by now, but no. He got offended. I don’t get it.
Day ??: Haven’t seen John in a week (two weeks?). His desk looks clean, so he was probably here at some point. He’s still not speaking to me, but I’m sure that won’t last. I do hope he’s not dating that irritating woman that was here the other day.

Sherlock Holmes is one of the greatest minds in all of literature. He also happens to be one of my favorite fictional characters and, as it turns out, an INTJ. (This post will reference mostly Benedict Cumberbatch’s portrayal of Sherlock Holmes, though I believe the Sherlock Holmes in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original stories was also an INTJ. But that's neither here nor there.) I've seen him typed all over the place--ISTP, ISTJ, ENTP--but, most commonly, the argument is, “Is Sherlock an INTP or an INTJ??” People get pretty heated. Welcome to the Internet.

So I’m here to throw my two cents into the mix and prove to you that not only is Sherlock an INTJ, he is most definitely not an INTP. And I’ll hopefully give you some insight into the thinking of an INTJ while I’m at it. (Spoiler: We’re not actually sociopaths.)

An INTJ, like all Myers-Briggs types, is broken down into four functions, ours being: introverted intuition, extraverted thinking, introverted feeling, and extraverted sensing (Ni-Te-Fi-Se). Introverted intuition is the dominant function--the one that governs all our thought processes. It manifests itself in puzzle solving and seemingly psychic predictions that nearly always come true, since we’re always taking in information and analyzing it, sometimes unconsciously.

"Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting." (source)

The auxiliary function--the one that takes the primary function and helps it interact with the world--is extraverted thinking. This is the logic-above-all-else attitude that makes us both seemingly brilliant and great villains: it takes everything we see and experience in the world and sorts it into nice little boxes stuck in a spiderweb to pull out anytime we need it (usually for solving a puzzle or proving a point). Te takes all the conclusions that Ni comes to and puts them together into coherent arguments. Often rapidly, while we’re arguing or ruminating on a problem while others are talking about it.

There is no way he's an ISanything.

The tertiary function--introverted feeling--is the “weakness” function. It’s underdeveloped and thus often ignored. Introverted feeling is concerned with personal principles and being in touch with one’s emotions, which--since we’re not very good at it--most INTJs view as a weakness. Hence the reason we come off as cold, emotionless robots. We like it that way; it’s easy that way. We have emotions, and we definitely have principles, but we put them aside for the sake of logic and fit them into our personal schema later.

Extraverted sensing is the inferior function. It’s the one that makes us most easily overwhelmed and, when we’re tired or stressed, will come to the forefront and cause us all sorts of problems. Extraverted sensing is concerned mainly with noticing and absorbing sights, sounds, smells--anything that uses the five senses. So we’re overwhelmed when assaulted with sensory overload, and when we’re stressed, we abuse substances or do really stupid things, just to sense something. Hence Sherlock’s nicotine (née cocaine) addiction. And his need for quiet.

(source)

So that’s Sherlock. He suppresses his emotions, he abuses substances, he often forgets what day it is when absorbed with a project, and he solves puzzles with objective facts. Robert Downey Jr’s portrayal of Sherlock Holmes is generally agreed to be an ENTP, which only strengthens my case that Benedict Cumberbatch’s is an INTJ.

But for those of you who still think he’s an INTP, I present to you four things:

1. An INTP would know that the earth revolves around the sun.

(source)

An INTP is broken down into introverted thinking, extraverted intuition, introverted sensing, extraverted feeling (Ti-Ne-Si-Fe). Introverted thinking is concerned with theories and ideas. Extraverted intuition takes information and strengthens those theories until they're practically foolproof. An INTP would know that the earth revolves around the sun. Most INTJs would, too, for that matter, but we’re less likely to care because what effect does it have on our day to day lives? And the less we care about it, the less likely we are to file it away for later use.

2. An INTP wants harmony.

An INTP’s inferior function is extraverted feeling, which is mainly concerned with the feelings of others and how well everyone is getting along. Since it’s inferior, an INTP’s greatest source of stress would be tension in a room. And his reaction to that would be to do everything in his power to create harmony. Sherlock clearly does not do this. Ever.

(source)

INTJs are infamous for their lack of concern for anyone’s feelings. It's not that we’re actually sociopaths, incapable of understanding human emotion, it's just that we don't think what we say should bother anyone. It wouldn't bother us. And we often don't realize what we've done--if we realize it at all--until it's too late. So if an INTJ friend hurts your feelings, have compassion. We don't often know what we're doing.

3. "BORED"

(source)

This is 100% INTJ. From the sensorial appeal of the actual gunshot to the shocking-anyone-around-just-for-kicks factor to the all-consuming boredom without a real, physical case to focus his attentions on, this response literally screams INTJ.

4. John.

INTPs want a lot of friends. They want to be at peace with people. They want connection: to be valued and understood. But Sherlock has never wanted friends. Sherlock doesn’t even really have friends--he has John.

Up until this point, Sherlock has never found anyone worthy of worrying about, caring about, expending energy on. Then suddenly this grumpy old hedgehog of an Army doctor comes along and proves to Sherlock over and over again that he's interesting, he's talented, and, most of all, he's sticking around. So, despite himself, Sherlock starts to trust him, starts to care about him. And bada-bing bada-boom, Sherlock has a friend. Finally. Even though he didn't really want one. He says himself, he never expected to be anyone’s best friend. That is 100% INTJ.

So I guess the moral of this story--other than the fact that Sherlock is absolutely an INTJ--is that we’re really not sociopaths. We care about people deeply--if they give us a good enough reason to. So if you're ever trying to befriend an INTJ: be interesting, know what you're talking about, and show them that you're sticking around, whether they want you to or not. (But don't be annoying about it. Otherwise you might find yourself on the wrong end of a particularly vicious freeze-out with no idea how you got there. We’re sneaky like that.)

(source)

Have I convinced you Sherlock is an INTJ?
Feel free to argue with me in the comments!

Continue Reading →