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6/8/2025, 10:55:35 PM
>>24451509
The dynamic Jung describes is more vicious than just run-of-the-mill egotism. The real target here might not be the "introvert" as a stable type, but rather a specific pathological state he's describing: the person who thinks they are an introvert but has already surrendered to the extraverted framework. Jung's "cure" then becomes a cruel twist of the knife.
When he diagnoses the introvert's egotism as a failure to be loyal to his own "subjective factor," he's setting up a classic performative contradiction. The demand, "You should be true to your own principle, like I am," is a speech act that fundamentally undermines itself at the moment of utterance. The extravert's principle is, by Jung's own admission, to "follow the object," to conform to the external, collective norm. But the very act of singling out the introvert for this special, individualized judgment shatters that principle. The herd is no longer just grazing; it has become a tribunal, and its principle has shifted from conformity to accusation.
This puts the "failed" introvert in a paralyzing double bind. He's already conforming to his supposed principle by being subjectively oriented, yet he's being commanded to do it again, this time for an external audience. To be accepted, he must perform his authenticity, a demand that is itself inauthentic. The grim irony is that to be integrated into the group, he is forced to permanently wear a label that reads "excluded." Should he actually succeed in this performance, in truly "doubling down" on his introversion, he would expose the new foundation of the group's unity: the targeting of a scapegoat. The extroverts' conformity would be revealed as contingent on his exclusion.
Herein lies the symmetry that the social order must hide from itself. Both the accuser and the accused are, in a sense, failing to adhere to a pure principle. But the mechanism of scapegoating breaks this symmetry, allowing one party to become the unquestioned judge and the other the perpetual defendant. This is where the logic of "Satan expels Satan" comes into play. You cannot designate the accuser without becoming an accuser yourself. The very act of pointing the finger, of naming the "Satan," makes you one. This is the unavoidable performative lie that establishes and maintains the social hierarchy, the order of castes.
Perhaps Jung himself is caught in this dynamic, adopting the role of the objective analyst who can distinguish "true" introversion from its pathological distortion, thereby reinforcing the very judgment he claims to be diagnosing. The only way out of this labyrinth might be to acknowledge the inherent incompleteness of any one perspective. By admitting that both the "failed" introvert's resentment and the extravert's confident judgment are partial, we can glimpse a truth that lies beyond the cycle of accusation.
The dynamic Jung describes is more vicious than just run-of-the-mill egotism. The real target here might not be the "introvert" as a stable type, but rather a specific pathological state he's describing: the person who thinks they are an introvert but has already surrendered to the extraverted framework. Jung's "cure" then becomes a cruel twist of the knife.
When he diagnoses the introvert's egotism as a failure to be loyal to his own "subjective factor," he's setting up a classic performative contradiction. The demand, "You should be true to your own principle, like I am," is a speech act that fundamentally undermines itself at the moment of utterance. The extravert's principle is, by Jung's own admission, to "follow the object," to conform to the external, collective norm. But the very act of singling out the introvert for this special, individualized judgment shatters that principle. The herd is no longer just grazing; it has become a tribunal, and its principle has shifted from conformity to accusation.
This puts the "failed" introvert in a paralyzing double bind. He's already conforming to his supposed principle by being subjectively oriented, yet he's being commanded to do it again, this time for an external audience. To be accepted, he must perform his authenticity, a demand that is itself inauthentic. The grim irony is that to be integrated into the group, he is forced to permanently wear a label that reads "excluded." Should he actually succeed in this performance, in truly "doubling down" on his introversion, he would expose the new foundation of the group's unity: the targeting of a scapegoat. The extroverts' conformity would be revealed as contingent on his exclusion.
Herein lies the symmetry that the social order must hide from itself. Both the accuser and the accused are, in a sense, failing to adhere to a pure principle. But the mechanism of scapegoating breaks this symmetry, allowing one party to become the unquestioned judge and the other the perpetual defendant. This is where the logic of "Satan expels Satan" comes into play. You cannot designate the accuser without becoming an accuser yourself. The very act of pointing the finger, of naming the "Satan," makes you one. This is the unavoidable performative lie that establishes and maintains the social hierarchy, the order of castes.
Perhaps Jung himself is caught in this dynamic, adopting the role of the objective analyst who can distinguish "true" introversion from its pathological distortion, thereby reinforcing the very judgment he claims to be diagnosing. The only way out of this labyrinth might be to acknowledge the inherent incompleteness of any one perspective. By admitting that both the "failed" introvert's resentment and the extravert's confident judgment are partial, we can glimpse a truth that lies beyond the cycle of accusation.
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