The Psyche Co-creates Reality

From the perspective that Jung presented in Psychological Types, the essence of the conflict of opposites is deeply philosophical. But Jung felt his philosophy was often misunderstood or misinterpreted. He realised the confusion as early as 1925 when Jung gave a seminar that generated ‘considerable misunderstanding’ (Jung 1925, p. 134) of what he meant by the relation of the subject to the external object (and to the unconscious). He tried to address this confusion after lecture 16 but he clearly failed because the confusion continued through to the end of his life, as evidenced by a letter in 1960:

My empirical standpoint is so disappointingly simple that it needs only an average intelligence and a bit of common sense to understand it, but it needs an uncommon amount of prejudice or even ill-will to misunderstand it, as it seems to me. Letters II, p. 753

And the confusion continues today, as demonstrated by the conflicting ways Jung’s epistemology has been described and applied. For example, in respect of God, Jung has been characterised as being mystical, or atheistic, or having blind faith, or as psychologising God, or as making the god-image and God distinct realities, or as the distinction being moot, etc.. This confusion makes it difficult to apply Jung’s ideas because, as Buber pointed out to Jung in their correspondence, people need to know to whom they pray without getting frustrated by hair-splitting philosophical distinctions.

The confusion over Jung’s philosophy is also demonstrated by the conflicting ways it has been labelled: radical constructivist; subjectivist; phenomenological; dualistic; Kantian; misunderstanding Kant; etc.. This creates a philosophical echo of Buber’s concern. How can people apply Jung’s philosophically-based solution—which he claimed was disappointingly simple—to political conflict without getting frustrated by a morass of complex and contradictory interpretations of his philosophy?

James, Dewey, Quine: Understanding Co-created Realities

The best resolution to this confusion, in my view, was offered in a JAP paper 25 years ago by William Kotsch (https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/1465-5922.00153). He pointed out the similarities between Jung's epistemology and William James' late-developed philosophy of radical empiricism (which is different to pragmatism). Jung likely learned about radical empiricism through Theodore Flournoy (thanks to Steven Herrmann for pointing this out to me in a personal discussion). Radical empiricism also influenced John Dewey and W.V.O. Quine, the latter using the term ontological relativity. This means we all live in different but related worlds, because we each create our own individual (and within our communities, shared) realities that can be antagonistic to the other’s reality. Jung summarised the essence of the problem by quoting Schiller and agreeing with him ‘word for word’:

This antagonism is … as old as the beginning of culture [and] it frustrates every attempt at a settlement, because no party can be brought to admit either a deficiency on his own side or a reality on the other’s. CW6, §220.

Jung illustrated how we created our own realities with the colour green, which does not have an independent existence but is created through the interaction of the psyche and a wavelength. James’ description of radical empiricism went further by saying that reality is also created by the interactions between interactions. An example of this is the colour pink, which does not have a corresponding wavelength but is produced through the interaction of multiple wavelengths. A different kind of example is the flag of Wales, which is created through the interaction of various colours—green, white, red, and black—with their spatial positioning on the page and our memory or recognition of the image of a dragon. All these various realities are co-created by the psyche and the external world, through their interactions and through interactions between interactions.

Colours are not purely objective because they do not exist independently in the external world. But neither are they purely subjective because there are a lot of commonalities in what we see, e.g., that grass is green. John Dewey summed up the difference between subjectivity and radical empiricism by saying ‘We have a contrast, not between a Reality, and various approximations to, or phenomenal representations of Reality, but between different reals of experience’ (The Essential Dewey: Volume 1, p. 115, original italics).

Subjectivity vs. Esse in Anima: Visualising the Difference
During a recent JAP seminar, I explained my understanding of Jung’s ‘simple’ standpoint, and how it differs from subjectivity, using some blocks of wood and a handfan. The first image illustrates one form of subjectivity where we can see a circle, rectangle, triangle, and a complex 'tent' shape. These are all different perspectives or cross-sections of the same wooden object, depending on the viewpoint taken (from underneath, one side, an adjacent side, and an oblique angle respectively).

Another form of subjectivity is to place a filter over the object, such as a piece of paper. This changes the shapes we see, though some changes are more radical than others. We then perceive a semi-circle, rectangle, trapezium, and a different complex object.

Jung’s philosophy is neither of these because reality is created through the combination or interaction of the psyche and external world. Jung summarises it by writing:

Living reality is the product neither of the actual, objective behaviour of things nor of the formulated idea exclusively, but rather of the combination of both in the living psychological process. [They] are the two indispensable constituents of living reality. CW6, §77.

On the workshop, I illustrated this with a handfan specially designed for the purpose. In the accompanying image, the vertical spine represents external reality or objectivity. The other spine, pointed at roughly 7 o’clock, is the individual’s psyche. When the spines are opened up, leaves appear between the two, which represents the individual’s reality.

The leaves in the handfan are the product neither of the vertical spine, representing external reality, nor of the other (angled) spine, representing the individual psyche, but rather of the combination of both. The two spines are indispensable constituents, but living reality is represented by the leaves that appear between them.

In later years, Jung stopped using the term esse in anima and adopted Freud’s phrase of psychic reality instead. But this is misleading because Freud’s and Jung’s conceptions are different. Freud’s psychic reality referred to the internal world. Jung referred to the reality created through the interaction of the internal and external.

Antagonistic Realities

In Chapter II of Psychological Types, Jung extends his argument by suggesting not only that the psyche (co)creates reality, but that reality is constructed along a superior-inferior axis. The conscious side that we differentiate acquires superior qualities, and the opposite side, which remains unconscious and is projected into the other—or into political opponents—retains inferior qualities. This means that our different but related worlds tend to be antagonistic because what is superior for one side is inferior for the other, and vice versa.

Jung’s philosophy goes further than suggested by any form of subjectivity or cognitive bias because it describes how reality is created. This is significant because, when we put that reality to the test, we will often find clear evidence that it is true. And if we make the mistake of thinking there is only one reality, then we will think it is true for everyone else as well. Therein lies the basis of our inability to resolve antagonistic political realities. When something is demonstrably true and real, we cannot be brought to admit that our own reality has a deficiency, nor that there is a reality on the other’s side.

In the JAP seminar, I demonstrated this principle with an enlarged handfan. In the image, I’ve extended the handfan to include a second spine, which represents the other’s psyche, and which—when it is opened—creates a separate reality. The two realities are related because they share the central spine—the external world—but they are different because they are constructed with the involvement of different psyches. Each side can only see their own reality, which is related but different to the other’s. If one side does try to understand the other’s reality, then their own side appears lighter and superior, and the other’s reality appears darker and inferior.

To illustrate how Jung’s philosophy is relevant to contemporary politics on the JAP workshop, I used the artificial intelligence system ChatGPT. It has faults, but one of its strengths is reflecting collective views that can be found on the internet. Firstly, I asked ChatGPT about the typical Democrat reality. Although some may have different views, it reported superior qualities for Joe Biden—steady leadership, empathy, bipartisanship, being a defender of democracy, and decency. By contrast, it reported the Democrat reality as containing inferior qualities for Donald Trump—being a threat to democracy, stoking division, eroding the meaning of truth, being a self-serving leader, and inciting violence.

But when I asked ChatGPT about the typical Republican reality, it gave me a sort-of mirror image. It reported superior qualities for Trump—strong leadership, economic focus, putting America first, being tough on crime and borders, and being unfiltered or direct in his communication. By contrast, ChatGPT reported inferior qualities for Biden—having a socialist agenda, weak leadership, having inflicted economic harm, presiding over a border crisis, and engaging in cultural overreach by imposing a woke agenda.

These two political realities are each one-sided, and they are antagonistic to each other. When the two sides try to engage with each other, they often find their discussions are unproductive because their realities, although related (discussing the same people), are fundamentally misaligned.

The White House Argument

When President Zelensky visited the White House, and the meeting deteriorated into an argument, there were several factors at play , including different objectives, communication misunderstandings, competing interests, historical tensions, various kinds of unconscious dynamics, and the fact that their backgrounds were in media rather than politics. But a fundamental issue was that Trump and Zelensky constructed their realities using different superior-inferior axes. It is directly to this sort of situation—antagonistic realities—that Chapters I and II of Psychological Types speak. It was what Ludwig Wittgenstein identified as a deep disagreement. That is, it wasn’t just an argument, but a situation in which the conditions for a reasoned argument did not exist because the epistemological foundations of the two sides were so incompatible and antagonistic.

In Zelensky’s reality, he and his country were defenders not only of their territory but also of democracy; they were in a David versus Goliath battle. He is the leader of a peaceful country that was invaded, he has moral authority, and he is a strategic partner with the West by being the first line of defence against an aggressive Russia. In Zelensky’s reality, Trump is an unreliable ally who called Zelensky a dictator whilst speaking admirably about Putin, and Trump is self-interested, naïve about Russia, morally compromised, and condescending.

But in Trump’s reality, he and J.D. Vance are pragmatic power brokers. They are ‘America First’ advocates, dealmakers, and wary of reckless warmongering. Trump’s goal—and I take him at face value on this—was to achieve a peace deal. His ambition is to be awarded the Nobel prize for peace, a motivation perhaps spurred on by the fact that Barack Obama was awarded that prize 15 years earlier.

In the discussion, the two sides found themselves at cross-purposes because their realities were antagonistic to each other. This was compounded by misunderstandings due to language difference. For example, Trump said “you don’t have the cards right now”. But this was a metaphor that Zelensky—whose command of English is good but not excellent—did not understand. He replied to the literal statement by saying “I came here not to play cards”. For Zelensky, the reference to a card game trivialised what he was doing.

There was also a cultural misalignment in Zelensky’s combat uniform. For Zelensky, that uniform is on the superior side of his reality. It is a symbol of wartime leadership, a reminder of Ukraine’s sacrifices, demonstrates his authenticity and moral high ground, shows he is defending his country’s independence, and provides a permanent connection through images to his soldiers on the battlefield.

But for Trump, his Vice President, and some of the American journalists who were present, that uniform was on the inferior side of their reality. It was a distasteful symbol that demonstrated a disrespect for diplomacy and the United States. It showed that Zelensky was failing to acknowledge his dependence on the US, and at the same time ignoring US priorities. It reinforced Zelensky’s weakness and vulnerability.

Overcoming Antagonistic Realities: The Transcendent Function in Action

We can see a vivid example of how to overcome antagonistic realities in Nelson Mandela’s transformation of South Africa from a country on the brink of civil war to a functioning democracy. This was largely due to his personal development of the transcendent function and his ability to facilitate its development in South African society.

Mandela was brought up in a natural environment and moved into a more Western culture for the first time at the age of 16. During that formative time, he experienced many opposites, and the natural environment enabled him to develop various transcendent functions at an early age. Some analysts laud Mandela’s (apparent) one-sidedness and violence in opposing apartheid. But it is not one-sidedness per se that should be lauded—which for Jung can be barbaric if it is involuntary one-sidedness. What should be lauded is Mandela’s recognition of the antagonistic realities, and his flexibility to engage with the reality of either side in order to overcome the conflict—which for Jung is a cultured and voluntary one-sidedness. Mandela’s use of violence in his young adult years was not to defeat the whites, but to bring them to the negotiating table, i.e., to bring the opposing realities into tension. His goal was not to win but to transcend and reconcile.

Mandela was not able to transcend all opposites. For example, he did not succeed in transcending the conflict between politics and family, which played a key role in the breakdown of his first marriage. But in political battles he demonstrated respect for his oppressors and had a flexibility of attitude that gave him an understanding of the reality on both sides. He was able to hold the tension of opposites. He was attuned to symbols, and integrated them in an even more active way than Jung suggested in Psychological Types. This eventually led to a transformation on both sides. To echo a comment by von Franz, Mandela found ways to encourage both sides to engage fully and respectfully with the ‘devil in the corner’ (Lectures on Jung’s Typology, p. 85).

For example, before South Africa hosted the 1995 Rugby World Cup, Mandela opposed the black sports council’s desire to get rid of the hated Springbok name and colours. When he hosted the finals, he even wore the colours himself. But he also encouraged the predominantly white South African rugby team to sing, what many whites viewed as, the ‘terrorist’ national anthem. He was lucky that South Africa won the tournament, which helped create a zenith of national fusion, but Mandela had forged the opportunity for that luck to arise and to have such an impact.

Northern Ireland: Another Path to Reconciliation

Another example of overcoming antagonistic realities can be seen in the work of David Trimble and John Hume. They played pivotal but distinct roles in advancing the Northern Ireland peace process, marked by a rare willingness to acknowledge the lived realities of the opposing communities. Hume, leader of the Social Democratic and Labour Party, consistently emphasised the need for mutual respect and dialogue, arguing that nationalist aspirations must be pursued through peaceful means and that unionist fears of cultural and political erasure were legitimate and needed to be addressed. Trimble, leader of the Ulster Unionist Party and once a hard-line critic of Irish nationalism, made a historic shift by engaging with nationalist representatives and—together with his ‘opponent’ Hume—led the negotiations that culminated in the Good Friday Agreement. In doing so, he recognised that many in the Catholic community had experienced systemic discrimination and alienation under British rule. Both men, though from opposing traditions, showed the political courage to look beyond their own communities’ narratives and accept that a lasting peace required confronting the other side’s historical wounds and entrenched fears. Their shared Nobel Peace Prize in 1998 recognised this moral and political breakthrough.

However, this wasn’t the end of the story. The Rev’d Ian Paisley was leader of the Democratic Unionist Party and a long-standing and vociferous opponent of power-sharing with Sinn Féin, whom he saw as inseparably linked to the IRA. He rejected the 1998 Good Friday Agreement and condemned the Ulster Unionist Party as traitors for participating in a devolved government alongside republicans. His opposition remained unyielding through the early 2000s, particularly amid the IRA’s failure to fully decommission, which contributed to the collapse of power-sharing on four separate occasions between 1998 and 2007. As late as 2006, Paisley’s rhetoric remained uncompromising, declaring at an Orange Order rally that no true unionist would ever partner with Sinn Féin. Yet, following the St Andrews Agreement later that year—which required Sinn Féin to endorse the Police Service of Northern Ireland—a dramatic shift occurred. In 2007, Paisley entered government with Sinn Féin’s Martin McGuinness, taking up the role of First Minister alongside McGuinness as Deputy. Remarkably, the two men developed a close and unexpectedly warm rapport, frequently seen laughing together and earning the nickname “the Chuckle Brothers”. These public displays of camaraderie—captured on camera and widely published—became potent symbols of transformation, redirecting the collective emotional energy—once so bound up in fear and hostility—toward an image of mutual respect and shared leadership that challenged entrenched perceptions on both sides.

Conclusion

Underpinning the above examples are realities that are created between our own personal or community psyches and the external world. These realities are different but related, and can often be antagonistic. But through the transcendent function we can come to recognise these conflicting realities, and develop the flexibility to engage with one side or the other with the ultimate goal of reconciliation. For Jung, there is a stark difference between one-sidedness that occurs outside the transcendent function and within:

A conscious capacity for one-sidedness is a sign of the highest culture, but involuntary one-sidedness, i.e. the inability to be anything but one-sided, is a sign of barbarism. CW6, §346.

To achieve that conscious capacity in politics, we need to develop political transcendent functions that help us to recognise and engage with the realities on all sides.