Lost in the Jungle

A Response to Jungian Psychology

Having fallen down a bit of a psychological rabbit hole in the last couple of weeks, I recently stumbled upon the life and works of 20th century philosopher Carl G. Jung. A contemporary with Freud, Jung quickly established for himself a reputation as someone who seeks to gaze deeply at the phenomenon of the human consciousness with his mind firmly fixated on the axiom that “things are not what they seem.” Rather, beneath the surface of the human mind, is a complex, unconquerable jung-le (pun intended #1) where there are still several volumes of information to be gleaned.

The crux of Jung’s hypothesis was that, hidden below the human consciousness was this “collective shared consciousness” among all human beings. He said that, the human race has these established “archetypes” that have been inherited through millennia of shared meaning. These archetypes show us how to act, live, and even dream. Different from most of his secular contemporaries, however, Jung almost suggests that the source of these archetypes is external to the human consciousness… almost.

I recently finished the book King, Warrior, Magician, and Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette [1]. The authors, by personal confession are both incredibly devoted Jungians: real Jung-kies if you will (pun intended #2). In this work, they have hypothesized that there are four main archetypes that exist in the collective male consciousness: King, Warrior, Magician, and Lover. All men, according to Moore and Gillette, innately aspire to be like these four overarching personas, all men have fallen short of them, and all men need these archetypes to be redeemed.

It seemed, at first glance, to be a fascinating perspective. I, personally, was greatly impressed by how holistic the four archetypes were. It appeared that Moore and Gillette had drawn a beautifully full picture of the mature masculine as well as where the shortcomings of the male psyche often appear. However, when it came time to prescribe a solution, the wheels on the Jung Bus quickly fell off.

Let’s take a closer look.

The Four Archetypes

Before jumping into an analysis, I will quickly define each of the four archetypes. With each archetype, I will list the definition as well as three sub-categories under each; Moore and Gillette suggest that with each archetype, there resides a perfected form (the integrated form), as well as two imperfected forms (shadow forms). These shadow forms manifest themselves in an active way and a passive way (14-15).

The King- the source of energy where men get the drive to lead, to protect, and to preserve. The King represents an inherently generative energy (61).

• Integrated: the integrated king seeks to lead for the sake of blessing those around him. He loves to be creative, but not near as much as he loves creating spaces for his “subjects” to be creative.

  • Active shadow: “The Tyrant.”

  • Passive shadow: “The Weakling.”

The Warrior- the source of energy that gives men the urge to fight, to defend, and to demonstrate purposeful aggression (79).

• Integrated: the integrated warrior hates violence and is therefore willing to fight to keep it out of his “realm.” He uses only the force necessary and only for the sake of creating deeper flourishing.

  • Active shadow: “The Dominator.”

  • Passive shadow: “The Victim.”

The Magician- the source of energy that gives men a thirst to know more, to reveal secrets, and to instruct others (106).

• Integrated: the integrated magician seeks to uncover knowledge for the sake of teaching others. He does not seek to puff up, but to give those in his realm a deeper understanding of hidden secrets to flourishing.

  • Active shadow: “The Manipulator.”

  • Passive shadow: “The Innocent One.” (This is the man who hides behind “unknowable truths” and ignorance as an excuse for his own lack of initiative)

The Lover- the source of the energy that gives men a thirst to be connected to the world around them. It creates a longing for beauty and pleasure (121).

• Integrated- the integrated lover reflects the virtues of the other three archetypes, but with that added “x” factor of “delight.” He seeks to rule, fight, and teach for the sake of the love he feels for those around him.

  • Active shadow: “The addicted lover.” (you get it)

  • Passive shadow: “The impotent lover.” (once again… you get it)

What it gets right.

Once again, I find these four archetypes to be a strikingly accurate view of the mature masculine. Furthermore, I find that the active and passive shadows offered for each archetype to be incredibly on-point. Thus, the appeal that these primordial images are being taken from the collective human experience is really quite compelling.

Interestingly enough, the concept of a collective human consciousness shared among the entire species is not one limited to the field of psychology. In the field of communication, this is simply referred to as “Symbolic Convergence Theory” which suggests that “sharing group fantasies [read stories] creates symbolic convergence” [2] among people groups. In other words, the act of sharing stories creates shared symbols among people groups.

There is however, one main point of divergence (pun intended #4) Moore and Gillette seem to be suggesting that these symbols are inherent to the human psyche. Therefore, the plethora of stories that have arisen that revolve around kings, warriors, magicians, and lovers are simply projections of the archetypes which already exist in the human mind. I’ll hit on this more in the critique section, but the only real problem with that statement is that Moore and Gillette flat-out refuse to even hint at answering the question “where did these ideas come from?”

Something else that Moore and Gillette exceled at was the admittance that each of these four archetypes are broken in every masculine psyche. Within the male mind (whether conscious or subconscious), there is a weak king, a blood-thirsty warrior, a manipulative magician, and a selfish lover. Thus, the authors make it clear that these are not identities to assume in order to excuse deviant behavior. Rather, they are frayed images within the male psyche that need to be addressed.

And yet, when it came to how these frayed images need to be addressed, Moore and Gillette just couldn’t get out of the Jung-yard (pun intended #5).

What it misses.

Moore and Gillette, I assume, attempted to write this book as ecumenically as possible so as to appeal to any man regardless of religious or socio-political association. And yet, on the path to a universalist approach, Moore and Gillette managed to yank every single organized religion through the mud (except perhaps Hinduism) as the reason for all of the most shortcomings in the archetypal man.

For example, Moore and Gillette cite the “erotic suppression” of Christian moralism as the reason for why so many men struggle to be impotent lovers. Their claim is that, to truly unlock the power of the archetypal lover, a man must love without restraint, without social bondage, and especially without the horrifying constraint of monogamy. At one point, they make the claim that Song of Solomon is a pornographic book in the Bible which Christians are actively suppressing so as to inflate their baseless moral code. The authors even claim that the attempts to read into the deeper spiritual realities are “the only way that these moralistic Christians can accept Song of Solomon”(127). The only way to unlock the true power of the Lover archetype is to have as much sex as possible; or, as they would say it, “become completely at one with the world.”

Personally, I find that sexually transmitted infections and failed marriages might contribute more to an impotent lover than any sexual ethic, but that’s just my repressed sexuality talking I guess.

Elsewhere, the authors cite the gnostic movement in early church history as the religious group that was most in-tune to the energy of the magician. If the “tyrannical rule” of the organized church hadn’t “snuffed out” the power of the Gnostic movement, we as the collective Masculine would be so much further along the path to unlocking the wise secrets of the Universe. In reality, their vague comments about the “mysticism” and “secret knowledge” of Gnosticism demonstrate they know very little about what the Gnostics actually believed. Indeed, hidden behind these fancy words is a cult that detests the visible world, preaches an impossible heaven, and chalks up the entire female sex as a cosmic blunder. Of course, none of that matters in a Jungian worldview. It’s all about what sounds mystic (103).

Time and time again, Moore and Gillette will cite the most graphic, disturbing, and ultimately demonic mythological stories hidden in ancient religions as examples of where the true energy of the sacred masculine lay. They hail the god Baal for his generative abilities in defeating chaos and brining forth fresh water meanwhile conveniently skating over the fact that it was this very legend that was used to justify the systemic sexual assault of the entire Canaanite people by the priests of Baal (58). In the Jungian mind, it doesn’t matter what these myths actually mean so long as they are in tune with the “energy of the inner masculine.”

Needless to say, Moore and Gillette are able to talk just enough about a wide variety of world religions to reveal that they understand exactly none of them. They do not argue on the basis of any religious conviction, any consistent moral ethic, or even any theological principle. Everything is a mythos: nothing more, nothing less. All any religion serves to do is reveal the deep-seeded undercurrents of the collective human consciousness with essentially zero concern as to whether these undercurrents are even good, true, or beautiful.

I understand that it’s important to take a hard look at even some of the most prevalent of world religions. However, Moore and Gillette are not taking a hard look, they are making broad-sweeping nonsensical strokes at worldviews and philosophies they clearly do not understand. It is an attempt at being edgy that achieves nothing but revealing their ignorance.

In other words, it’s like reading a non-fiction version of The DaVinci Code. It might sell, but that doesn’t mean that it’s even remotely accurate.

The Fatal Flaw

Aside from their baffling handling of all world religions, there is yet one flaw that truly makes this work a harmful one rather than a helpful one. When it finally comes time to prescribe, to apply, to help the man on his path to achieving a more mature masculine, Moore and Gillette have exactly one prescription: “unlock your inner man.”

For example, in the section regarding Kingly energy, the authors suggest that the true power to change is within the man himself. We just need to find the means to access it. They write, “when we are accessing the King energy correctly, as servants of our own inner King, we will manifest in our own lives the qualities of the good and rightful King, the King in its fullness”(73). Similar prescriptions are used when addressing the inner Warrior, the inner Magician, and the inner Lover.

There are exactly two problems with this. For one, the instruction “access your inner king” is absolutely no help whatsoever to me, and I would say that goes for most men. I have no idea what that means, I have no idea how to do that, and I most certainly am not going to attempt this by throwing around vague spiritual exercises that have no proof of working. This is exactly what happens when your worldview is not based on any actual understanding of the good, the true, and the beautiful. You believe in anything… which is to say that you end up believing in nothing

Secondly, in this prescription, Gillette and Moore have thrown out one of the most powerful psychological axioms of all time: “the garbage in your head can’t fix the garbage in your head.” In telling men that the key to developing a mature masculine is to search deep down for the true man underneath, you have doomed them all to a life filled with crippling guilt, unrealistic expectations, and shattering failures. Very simply, if the problem lies beneath the surface, then why on earth would we search for the solution beneath the surface?

Several times, Gillette and Moore will almost admit that true healing comes from the man submitting his failures to God and seeking divine aid. However, that is far too intolerant for them, so they instead appeal for the man to seek out a “transpersonal force”: once again, a nice mystical word that means absolutely nothing. Indeed, the best that Gillette and Moore are willing to admit is that the only way for the man to mature is to seek outside himself. Even then, the barriers of what is “inside” and “outside” oneself are inherently blurred due to their belief in this collective consciousness.

One More Thing

What is perhaps most interesting is that Moore and Gillette regularly appeal to the person of Jesus as someone who demonstrated throughout his earthly life a completely mature masculine in King, Warrior, Magician, and Lover. In other words, by their own grudging admittance, there was something perfected in the masculinity of Christ. And yet, with that beautiful path to restoration in front of them, they once again turn down the path of vague mysticism and self-love.

What if, though? What if the true path to masculinity was owning up to all the ways you’ve failed to be the man that God has commanded you to be? What if the Lord Jesus, in the fullness of his humanity didn’t just redeem manhood, but perfected it? What if his death on the cross actually did something to eradicate all the guilt that is innate to a man who knows he has failed to be what he’s ought to be? What if God himself promised his daily grace and mercy to the man exactly where he is? What if that God had sent his Spirit to dwell in man and work in him a mighty act of grace to make him the man that he was designed to be?

Nah, that’s ridiculous. I’m going back to the Jung-le…

(pun-intended #7)

Sources

[1] Moore, R. L., & Gillette, D. (1990). King, warrior, magician, lover. San Francisco: Harper.

[2] Griffin, E. M. (2006). A first look at communication theory. McGraw-hill.