Section 4

LITERARY BEAUTY VERSUS TRUTH

(Afanasyev A. — The Syntax of Love, or Psyche-Yoga)

Afanasyev’s Psyche-Yoga needs no scientific justification — that is not where its strength lies; its strength is in its own artistic structure. The trains of meaning behind each primary type and each of their combinations, multiplied by the trains of meanings and interpretations of the positions in which they can stand, create a kaleidoscope that can be spun endlessly without risk of repetition and without fear that the audience will grow bored. (From the reflections of Pfafik the dog)

Here before me lies a beautifully published and talentedly written book: Afanasyev’s The Syntax of Love, or Psyche-Yoga. It is a remarkable literary work that deservedly enjoys success with readers, aided by the author’s magnificent language and brilliant erudition. And if we make no demands of this text other than aesthetic ones, it can be spoken of as a masterpiece. To everyone who has not read it, I recommend doing so — and provided you are compatible with the text, you will derive great pleasure, and perhaps even become an adherent of this beautiful construct. However, from a scientific point of view, it is a psychological artifact belonging to the domain of quasi-science. And just as we can rate works of science fiction highly, so Afanasyev’s typology (TAF) can be rated highly as a work of psychological fiction, or as something close to the tales of Scheherazade.

Afanasyev created his own typology (TAF). In his work he unquestionably took Aušra Augustinavičiūtė as his starting point, and the necessary reference is present in his book. But this is an example of a “homemade” typology, a kind of typological heresy. Let us try to show its fundamental difference from socionics and its theoretical incorrectness — which, nonetheless, does not diminish its play value and the possibility of using it in trainings as a technological instrument, but only on the condition that the limitations of this instrument are understood.

At the same time, it should be noted that TAF contains a large number of plausible psychological observations, conclusions, and claims, which, on the one hand, require empirical verification, and, on the other, can form the basis for trusting the product as a whole. Moreover, they can be used — but now on a scientific footing — in other branches of psychology, and above all in socionics.

A. Afanasyev, a remarkable journalist and psychologist, proposed a beautiful set of sociotypes (see Table A.02). Here the term “sociotype” is used in its literal meaning, that is, to denote social, not socionic, types. What is especially interesting here is that these sociotypes are constructed deductively, and consequently their set ought to be characterized by completeness; yet even a cursory glance suffices to reveal a certain patchiness in this set — patchiness precisely from the standpoint of social roles. After all, if such fundamental concepts as EMOTION, LOGIC, PHYSICS, and WILL were taken, one would expect us to obtain a fundamental set of types; yet in the proposed context we are talking about sociotypes, and what we actually got is some partial set that lays no claim to any special necessity. From this one is forced to conclude that what we obtained is not at all a complete set of sociotypes — it is merely some fragment of it with pretensions to completeness. As for the sociotypes themselves, they are merely an imitation of such: behind the flashy names stand concepts that only partially correspond to their supposed meaning. Yes, presumably a TSAR’s WILL should be connected with the first function, but, first, not all tsars are like that, and second, people with a “first Will” are by no means necessarily tsars, in whatever figurative sense we may use these words. That is, one can speak here of the type of a strong-willed person, but why confine that concept to the image of a specific sociotype — the tsar? Besides, tsars are hardly in fashion nowadays. In that case, the beautiful words proposed by A. Afanasyev lose the conceptual meaning fixed to them in the language and become terms that are merely homonymous with the words from which they are formed. And this looks like a peculiar act of terminological sabotage against one’s native language.

Comparing socionics and TAF leads to the conclusion that the latter depends on the former: clearly, the ideas of TAF occurred to its author precisely after his acquaintance with the works of Aušra Augustinavičiūtė. The most important difference between socionics and TAF is that socionics has a deep theoretical foundation, whereas TAF is something like an artistic improvisation based on the author’s impressions of socionics.

Afanasyev writes that he “gradually formed a conception of the inner architecture of the human being, consisting of four psychic modules, or functions: EMOTION (‘the soul’), LOGIC (‘the mind’), PHYSICS (‘the body’), and WILL (‘the spirit’)” [3]. Note that here the author calls “functions” certain primary psychic capacities, independent of their position in the psyche. This is perhaps a decent set of empirically chosen categories. However, there are insufficient grounds here to consider such a set complete. He could have singled out not four but, say, five, six, seven, or more psychic modules, or functions, as he calls them — alas, merely transferring this term mechanically from socionics and psychology without providing a corresponding definition. One could also limit oneself to three functions: BODY, SOUL, SPIRIT, which are encountered in religious teachings. Or one could add INTUITION, IMAGINATION, SENSATIONS, CONSCIENCE — who knows what else might occur to a talented person. Of course, if one wishes, INTUITION can be assigned to MIND or to EMOTIONS, but one may equally not assign it. The only criterion here is the author’s intuitive satisfaction with the resulting set of categories, whereas what is needed are precise, theoretically grounded, and verified definitions.

Further, Afanasyev — somewhere between Carl Gustav Jung and Aušra Augustinavičiūtė — accepts that the functions he has chosen (which are, on the whole, very appealing) are arranged in the psyche in a hierarchical, four-tier order, on which the quality and intensity of each one’s manifestation depend. One senses a semantics of order here, but it is different from Jung’s or Augustinavičiūtė’s — somehow his own. With Jung, it is the order established among the leading, subordinate, and auxiliary functions; with Aušra, it is the order of a technological chain; with Afanasyev, it is the order of intuitively invented instruments with talentedly selected parameters.

Further, within this order a TOP and a BOTTOM are distinguished. The TOP is strong, the BOTTOM weak — at least relatively. And one more, final, distinction. The author calls the extreme functions resultative and the middle ones processional. For the resultative ones, the result matters more than the process; for the processional ones, on the contrary, the process matters more than the result. These distinctions certainly look effective, yet it is not so simple to grasp their actual meaning. What does “the result matters more than the process” mean? Does it mean that the parameters of the process can be neglected for the sake of achieving the result — which is close to, though not fully coincident with, the slogan “the end justifies the means”? And, most importantly, it is unclear from what theoretical considerations this follows.

Further, the semantics of the places in which the functions can stand is deciphered in more detail. The function standing in first place tends toward EXCESSIVENESS; it is distinguished by the greatest strength, as a result of which all people can be divided into sensualists (1st Physics), voluntarists (1st Will), mystics (1st Emotion), and rationalists (1st Logic). Already here one can ask: why is emotionality matched with mysticism? After all, representatives of all types can be mystics; that is, mysticism does not belong among typological criteria. Against the background of the three other categories, which are more or less comprehensible by general scientific standards when matched with first functions, this matching looks dubious at the very least. Further, the author accepts that what a person cognizes through the first function possesses, for him, the greatest reliability. Note that here “reliability” means the subjective confidence of the function’s bearer in his own rightness. This means that the concept of reliability as a degree of objective adequacy of facts and their understanding is here distorted, shifted into the realm of subjectivity. And although a model could take into account the subjective moment of a person’s behavior, this behavioral feature should hardly precede the objective component.

However, this question requires additional psychological and philosophical elaboration. This is an example of the approximate use of concepts, and it is one of the characteristics of the author’s theoretical style: rich imagination, talented literary exposition, and conceptual approximateness. Incidentally, experienced fortune-tellers work in just this manner — they make a strong impression on their clients, even though science denies the objectivity of fortune-telling’s results; but fortune-tellers can be compromised by something else entirely.

The FIRST FUNCTION provides a person’s maximal contact with the external world, and the author compares it to a HAMMER. This is a very active and very strong comparison — it literally hammers the author’s understanding of this function into the reader’s head, and this is one example of the author’s command of NLP techniques — it does not matter whether he was trained in this or whether it is one facet of his talent. Note also that the author does not disclose the semantics of this function — that is, what it does — but merely points to its striking parameter: EXCESSIVENESS. The HAMMER metaphor likewise contains the seme of EXCESSIVENESS, but there is also a second seme here — INSTRUMENTALITY; however, the author apparently may have subconscious reasons for not speaking of this directly.

The SECOND FUNCTION is NORMATIVE. It is difficult to describe, and the author compares it to a RIVER. It is just as strong, but compared with the first it is distinguished by BREADTH, RICHNESS, NATURALNESS, and FLEXIBILITY, which somehow exceeds the semantic field of NORMATIVITY. The second function acts impeccably adequately to the situation. In this Afanasyev sees ETALON-QUALITY (exemplariness). But does the semantics of the ETALON not fall into the same row as the concepts of MODEL and STANDARD? So whence such parameters as NATURALNESS and FLEXIBILITY? The PROCESSIONALITY of the second function is manifested in the fact that for its full realization a partner is necessary, and an audience can serve as such a partner. Of course, the author may understand his terms however he likes, but is the presence of a partner — a mandatory one, no less — not an instrumental moment facilitating the attainment of a result? The second function is fearless and readily takes risks; it does not fear blows and even utilizes them for its own perfection. From this it may well follow that the first function is not fearless, does not take risks, and fears blows — which somewhere contradicts its understanding as a hammer. At the same time, the second function’s breadth, fearlessness, and readiness to take risks stand in some contradiction with its understanding as normative. For normative behavior, should not such predicates as staying within the bounds of normativity, strictness, and caution be more characteristic? Of course, it is the author’s private affair how and to what end he uses speech and how he understands specific words, but, as we see, the reader may understand them in his own way — and, of course, also has the right to do so. Evidently the author falls here into the widespread trap of using fuzzy concepts, but seemingly does not realize it.

Comparing the FIRST and SECOND FUNCTIONS, the author employs another beautiful metaphor: if the first function is a gift to oneself, the second is a gift to others. Since we thereby enter the semantic field of the gift, it is natural to suppose the existence of the negative pole of this field as well — punishment. That is, there should also exist functions with the semantics of punishment, coercion, deprivation. True, it is not excluded that the semantics of the THIRD FUNCTION approaches precisely this. Moreover, the concept of a gift within the semantic field of scientific methodology looks like a beautiful ornament, which a scientist may of course use to popularize his text — but on the condition that strict scientific definitions precede it. Alas, there are none, and this constitutes a characteristic feature of the author’s thinking.

The THIRD FUNCTION is the weak, sore spot of the human psyche — an ulcer, a “dynamic trauma,” a source of shock, upheaval, awkwardness, incompatibility, a conflictual perception of the world. This function is vulnerable, deficient, underdeveloped, in need of constant strengthening, self-development, and protection. Connected with it is the sense of a great but unrealized potential. There is a most beautiful comparison of the THIRD FUNCTION with the chained Prometheus — but one so terrified that in every passing crow he sees Zeus’s eagle flying to peck at his wounded liver. Woundedness, heightened sensitivity. As we see, the author describes the semantics of this function in terms of neurasthenic pathology, and this immediately raises doubts about the quality of this function as applied to healthy people.

Blows to the third function are experienced as extremely painful, and the scars from them remain for life. This function has an especially hard time in childhood. Here there is a heightened sense of danger; it is hard to catch off guard; there is a tendency toward hyperbolization, and it greatly exaggerates real danger. The expectation of a blow to the third function is a person’s chief nightmare. The 3rd Logic fears accusations of incompetence, the 3rd Will fears humiliation, the 3rd Physics fears beatings, the 3rd Emotion fears hysterics. The “fig leaf” reaction upon meeting the same but stronger function: irony for the 3rd Emotion, skepticism for the 3rd Logic, prudishness for the 3rd Physics, feigned foolishness and hypocrisy for the 3rd Will. It is also the chief generator of love. Alcohol removes the block from the third function, so that restraint in the 3rd Emotion turns into heightened sensitivity, taciturn reserve in the 3rd Logic turns into talkativeness, misogyny in the 3rd Physics turns into obsessive pestering of women, modesty in the 3rd Will turns into conceit.

This function is capable of sympathy and empathy to the greatest degree, but it is prone to envy, which impels it to strive to reach the level of the object of its interest, since it feels deprived — yet at the same time, as Afanasyev believes, it wants to humiliate that object. Through the third function a person is inclined to subject himself to trials that he assigns to himself. The reason for this is a person’s striving to learn his limits in the 3rd function. Praise and rewards for the 3rd function are valued like no others. Flattery here can be served in any quantities.

It is almost obvious that this is an accentuated description, although it contains many exquisitely beautiful observations. In the normal case, presumably, things cannot be so dramatic. In socionics there is a prototype of this function in the form of the PLR — the point of least resistance — but there this function plays a role close to that of a sentry post, whose purpose is to filter out typologically unacceptable information, not to act as “the nightmare of a person’s whole life.”

To the fourth function a person attaches little importance, although it may be quite strong and productive. The 4th Emotion is not necessarily unfeeling, the 4th Logic is not necessarily stupid, the 4th Will is not necessarily weak-charactered, the 4th Physics is not necessarily weak. There resides what a person himself places on the last rung. In this function a person behaves unconstrainedly and feels free. Activity through the 4th function is not an independent value; it is not an end but a means of existence. Impressions arriving through the 4th function are perceived by a person as the least reliable. Through the 4th function a person easily becomes led, easily hands over arising problems to other functions. The 4th Physics readily becomes a kept woman; the 4th Emotion is easily infected by others’ moods; the 4th Logic readily agrees with others’ opinions; the 4th Will readily agrees with decisions made on its behalf. And again a remarkable metaphor: the fourth function is “a slave without guile, a chameleon and a dependent with a great but dormant potential.”

In the description of the fourth function contradictions are also found. If, as the author says, “impressions arriving through the 4th function are perceived by a person as the least reliable,” then how is it that through it “a person easily becomes led” and “easily hands over arising problems to others”? Should not, in that case, distrust and suspicion form instead?

Still, one can say that from a formal point of view the author has built an easily memorized and comprehensible scheme for evaluating a person. Add to that a talented “right-hemisphere” exposition. A large and valuable body of factual material has been collected, although the criterion of its evaluation lies in the realm of aesthetics, not science. All the necessary conditions for turning the book into a brand and a bestseller are present. And so it turned out.

However, from the standpoint of socionics, this is just as truncated and slightly skewed a typology as the Jungian typology in America — though somewhat merrier than the MMPI, Leonhard’s accentuations, or Dellinger’s psychogeometry. In the hands of a master it can work no worse than Tarot cards, the I Ching, or Runes. For the modern person, however, it possesses an additional attractiveness thanks to its “almost-scientificness” — there is a structure, there are definitions, there are classifications. And a very high-quality “right-hemisphere” presentation of the material. It is like a heavily distorted but very inventive and talented retelling of socionics. Therefore it will be useful for socionics to adopt Afanasyev’s findings, rethinking them in its own terms and concepts.

Unlike socionics, Afanasyev’s typology (TAF) distributes the functional and aspectual accents differently. In socionics, a function is above all a position, and it is the position that determines the function’s semantics, its content being the informational aspect. With Afanasyev, a function is above all a primary psychic capacity. It can occupy one of four places, but the places themselves, for Afanasyev, are not functions — or at least are not recognized as such. The functional character of the position he barely distinguishes — somewhere on the borderline, at most. At any rate, he does not speak of it directly. The position has its own semantics, but the author, unlike socionics, does not single out or does not recognize the functional character of the position.

In Afanasyev’s typology (TAF) a slightly distorted model “AJu” is quite discernible. The first function is the zone of maximal self-realization, the second is creative, the third is the zone of painful sensitivity, and the fourth is suggestive, open to influence. Thus the semantics of the functional positions in Afanasyev coincides with the semantics of the functions of the “AJu” model up to synonymic substitutions and conceptual blurriness.

As for the difference between the four Afanasyevan and the eight socionic functions, it is not hard to show that the Afanasyevan functions either partially coincide with the socionic ones or are a semantic combination of the latter. For clarity, let us introduce the notations E(a), L(a), F(a), W(a) for the Afanasyevan functions, and I(s), S(s), E(s), L(s), i(s), s(s), e(s), l(s) for the socionic functions, where capital letters for socionics indicate extraverted and lowercase letters introverted aspects. The letter in parentheses relates the aspect to Afanasyev’s typology or to socionics. The result of the comparison is presented in Table A.01. The % sign in the table denotes partial coincidence with the corresponding positions of the function indicated in parentheses.

Comparison of socionic (s) and TAF (a) functions — Table 03.01

TAF	Socionics	Commentary
E (a)	E (s)	Coincide by definitions, but positionally 1E = %(2E(s)+5E(s))
L (a)	l (s)	Close by definitions, but positionally 1L = %(1l(s)+2l(s)+3l(s))
F (a)	L (s)	Close by definitions, but positionally 1F = %(2L(s)+5L(s))
W (a)	S (s)	Coincide by definitions, but positionally 1W = %(1S(s)+5S(s)+3S(s))

This is the result of a first-approximation analysis. Perhaps it will require substantial further work, but the tendency is clear. In any case, one can by no means say that Afanasyev’s primary functions fundamentally fail to coincide with the socionic ones or that they must be understood in some special way. In any event, there is no alternative to the four Jungian functions, and from whatever side the author tries to look at the human being, the Jungian functions can only be distorted — they cannot be bypassed. Apparently the author did not understand this and, in the end, replaced the Jungian functions with their surrogates. It is another matter that comparing even these two typologies prompts the sad thought that psychology still has no deeply grounded theoretical solution to the problem of the primary functions. Of course, psychologists may object that everything is fine with them, and here come all sorts of people muddying the waters. But socionics did manage to propose a theoretical basis for posing the problem of a precise and objective explication of such important concepts as the primary psychic functions.

However, the main difference between TAF and the “AJu” model lies in the absence of restrictions on the joint arrangement of rational and irrational aspects — indeed, this very concept is absent in TAF, though such functions are present. Because of the absence of this restriction, all permutations of the four primary functions are possible in his typology. The result is not sixteen types but twenty-four. It might seem that more means better, but the number of types is an important and well-theoretically-grounded point in socionics. This gives preliminary grounds to believe that Afanasyev’s model contains a substantial miscalculation, which can be seen in the “strainedness,” inequivalence, and artificiality of some of his types. Note also that the position of a function in TAF is determined intuitively — that is, however it seems to whoever is looking. So socionicists will have an occasion for theoretical research in this area.

And yet Afanasyev could not avoid a structure with sixteen types: this set is constituted by his primary types, obtained as the semantic product of the semantics of a primary function and the semantics of the place in which that function stands. All sixteen of his types are presented in Table A.02.

Afanasyev’s primary types — Table 03.02

	Emotion	Logic	Physics	Will
First	Romantics	Dogmatists	Owners	Tsars
Second	Actors	Rhetors	Toilers	Nobles
Third	Dry Sticks	Skeptics	Touch-Me-Nots	Philistines
Fourth	Gawkers	Schoolboys	Sluggards	Slaves

According to the structure of TAF, it is assumed that the final type is obtained as a combination of four primary types from this table, but on the condition (here it is, the restriction on combinatorics! — though an unjustified one) that a single final type may combine only such primary types as are not simultaneously in the same row and the same column. However, this restriction has no sufficient theoretical foundation. At any rate, it has not been investigated. Yet it is not at all hard to imagine a person who bears primary types from a single row — for example, gawker-schoolboy-sluggard-slave: a thoroughly worthless fellow. And what, is it impossible to imagine a tsar-owner or a tsar-dogmatist? As many as you like! Experiment with the “forbidden” combinations and you will feel the ambiguity of a typology constructed in this manner. But a very beautiful one all the same!

One can also recombine the categories standing in the Will column, and then we obtain “fine” shades of these categories. Tsar-Tsar — something like Leonov’s character from An Ordinary Miracle, a Tsar-Petty-Tyrant utterly corrupted by absolute power. Tsar-Noble — not devoid of nobility and breadth of views. Tsar-Philistine — narrowness of interests, limitedness of perspective, primitive satisfaction of the simplest needs. Tsar-Slave — a marionette of his entourage, without understanding this and without attempts to change the situation. But more complex combinations can also be obtained, for example Tsar-Romantic-Actor-Philistine. Nero, with his romantic folly and vulgar play-acting, would fit this category quite well.

One can also, if desired, distinguish an enormous number of varieties of slaves. Slave-Tsar — while in a dependent position, he exerts a decisive influence on the situation. Slave-Noble — while in a dependent position, he preserves noble attitudes. Slave-Philistine — a slave by position and a philistine by convictions. Slave-Slave — a dependent and dull creature. And so on.

If one applies to TAF the same approach that Afanasyev, perhaps unconsciously, “applied” to socionics — namely, the free permutation and combination of its constituent elements — one can obtain not 24 types but 16! = 20,922,789,888,000 — a number clearly unmanageable even for a very large research institute; the number of types exceeds by billions of times the number of people who have ever lived on Earth. And if one further introduces not four positions but sixteen… For example, Romantic-1, Romantic-2, Romantic-3, all the way to Romantic-16, and so on. On the other hand, such a typology would be able to express the subtlest shades of the human soul. In it, the combination Romantic1-Dogmatist1 would differ from the combination Dogmatist1-Romantic1. The first uses ornaments of wildflowers in the design of dogmatic texts, while the second dogmatically insists that romanticism is the only way of existence worthy of a human being. Biographies would not be hard to find, but probably in the whole history of humanity there have not existed enough people for each to be assigned one type from such a typology. Well then, one can speak of the enormous potential of such a classification, which finds room even for what does not exist and possibly never will! The inexhaustibility of TAF is one of its astonishing virtues.

In connection with TAF, I recall a psychological impromptu by my elder brother Ivan when he was about 25. An ethical-intuitive extravert, he made psychological generalizations with ease. Once he proposed dividing all people into four groups: bogatyrs (epic heroes), wizards, judges, and contemporaries — do you recognize WILL, INTUITION, LOGIC, and PHYSICS? Well, perhaps not entirely exact, but no one supposes it should be! On another occasion, evidently in a different mood, another division occurred to him, likewise into four groups: brigands, swindlers, executioners, and philistines. Yes, the same WILL, INTUITION, LOGIC, and PHYSICS, but in a different representation. Soon, however — evidently because of the antisymmetric similarity of the two aforementioned series — they merged into a simple but quite socially accusatory quatrain:

The wizards are swindlers, The bogatyrs are brigands, The philistines are contemporaries, And the judges are executioners.

How prophetic these lines sound in our troubled time, when the masks have been torn from the sanctimonious faces of encyclopedic and self-appointed idols!

To this improvisation by a young but talented non-professional, one can hardly present a demand for completeness of classification. No doubt gaps can be found in it. For example, what about scholars and artists? But perhaps this improvisation is about something else, and those two quite distinguishable categories of people are generalized within the distinguished types.

Afanasyev’s typology is the work of a professional, and it claims universality. Therefore it is judged by a different standard — here neither explicit nor hidden contradictions are permissible. And if one tries to eliminate these contradictions, then, I think, in the end we will arrive at socionics. But the author hardly needs that.

Afanasyev has a beautiful and impressive assessment of astrology: “Although attempts have been and are being made to give astrology a scientific form, it clearly does not need one and in no way relies on one. And it is clear why — that is not where its strength lies. The strength of astrology is in its own artistic structure, where the names of Latin gods assigned to the planets of the Solar System, combined with the mysterious images of the zodiac signs, erect the gigantic scaffolding of an inexhaustible and vivid cosmic theater. The trains of meaning behind each of the Roman gods and behind each of their combinations, multiplied by the trains of meanings and interpretations of the zodiacal signs, create a kaleidoscope that can be spun endlessly without risk of repetition and without fear of the audience’s boredom” (emphasis mine — S.Ch.). If in his assessment of astrology we substitute TAF for astrology, and his proposed primary types for the names of the Roman gods, we obtain the quintessence of the theoretical position of the author of “Psyche-Yoga.” TAF needs no scientific justification — that is not where its strength lies; its strength is in its own artistic structure. The trains of meaning behind each primary type and each of their combinations, multiplied by the trains of meanings and interpretations of the positions in which they can stand, create a kaleidoscope that can be spun endlessly without risk of repetition and without fear that the audience will grow bored.

Afanasyev’s book is unquestionably talented, written in vivid, figurative language, and handsomely published besides. And yet somewhere his artistic taste failed Afanasyev when he decided to proclaim his typology — already picturesque enough — as PSYCHE-YOGA. No more and no less. It is like sticking a price receipt right onto the face of the main figure in a beautiful painting. As an advertising move it is easy to understand — it entices — but it smacks of lowered standards toward oneself. Yoga belongs to another culture. We have heard of it. There are many yogas, and among them the one responsible for psychic development is called raja-yoga. But that is about something else entirely, and not at all like this.

Let us consider more concretely Afanasyev’s description of several types.

Here is DUMAS.

Let us see how Afanasyev constructs the description of Dumas.

ALEXANDRE DUMAS

• PHYSICS (“owner”)
• EMOTION (“actor”)
• WILL (“philistine”)
• LOGIC (“schoolboy”)

This is what may be called Afanasyev’s model (model “Af”). The formula here looks like 1F-2E-3W-4L.

The numerals can of course be dropped, but they are convenient when discussing individual functions. The terminological designation of each function’s semantics is given as a single (key) word: 1F indicates that such a person belongs to the category of “owners.” However, Afanasyev has no complete specification of the “terminological keys,” and accordingly everyone has the opportunity to fill the term with his own subjective meaning. For one person an owner is simply a possessor of property; for another, a solid householder; for a third, a grasping egoist. This confronts us with the problem of the blurriness and fuzziness of concepts, which is one of the serious problems of psychology in general. In socionics this problem has been settled to a considerable extent thanks to the binding of psychological concepts to the positions of functions in model “A.”

This name for the type was borrowed by Afanasyev directly from socionics, which can be considered a violation of Aušra Augustinavičiūtė’s authorial rights, as well as an introduction of confusion into the understanding of the type, since one must now distinguish DUMAS-ACCORDING-TO-AFANASYEV from DUMAS-ACCORDING-TO-AUGUSTINAVIČIŪTĖ. The full socionic formula of the latter is s-E-i-L-I-l-S-e. In socionics, s (introverted sensing) points to a generalized resource, and a TIM with 1s has a basic orientation toward consumption. This orientation is close to what we observe in animals — all time free from sleep and care of offspring they spend searching for food. In humans, consumption is packaged in cultural forms and is distinguished by diversity. But in humans too, food, procreation, and safety belong, according to Maslow, to the basic needs, and until they are satisfied, the higher needs are not actual. However, people differ typologically in their need priorities. For people with 1s, material consumption has the highest priority. Of course, this includes not only food but everything connected with material comfort. In socionics the full formula of a type is determined by the first two functions. They also make it possible to formulate the basic program of the TIM. The short formula of Dumas — sE — can be read as “the most important thing in life is to consume (s) and to derive pleasure from it (E).” Here E (extraverted emotioning) denotes vivid emotions, above all positive ones — that is, what serves as an indicator of pleasure. Further, using semantic transformations and relying on the primary meanings of the combinations of function symbols, one can obtain a full description of this and all the other types, which is in fact what has been done in socionics — though not without costs and errors there either.

Let us emphasize, however, that a type description must contain only typological information, not concrete examples “taken from life.” In socionics, 1s indicates not only an orientation toward consumption but also heightened sensory sensitivity, high demands on sensory impressions, and a capacity for fine sensory discriminations. By this parameter a bearer of the type may realize himself as a taster, a materials specialist, a tailor, a cook, a painter, an actor, etc. 2E — that is, emotioning in the position of the creative function — yields a person capable of spontaneously changing his emotional state, which determines the possibility of self-realization as, for example, an actor. The partial unfolding of the Dumas formula given here relies on the semantics of the socionic functions and IA.

When Afanasyev writes: “In the street the ‘dumas’ is visible from afar: portly, tall, with facial features that are, if not handsome, then richly molded. Thrusting his belly forward, he processes along the sidewalk with lazy grace, shuffling, toes turned out. His physiognomy, meanwhile, is set in a complex owlish-sour expression. The gaze from beneath half-lowered eyelids looks haughty, but if you try to look into his eyes, you will discover there is nothing to look into, since his gaze is timidly fixed on the floor” — this is a very picturesque picture, but an exceedingly blurry one, and, above all, it is unclear how any of it follows from the model. Such a description is characteristic of the empirical-typological approach, when the portrait of a type consists of descriptions of specific representatives.

Such a description may impress a novice, but an experienced reader — let alone a psychologist — must demand grounds. First, one may doubt that absolutely all Dumas look like this, both men and women; and second, representatives of other types may look like this too. By socionic notions, “portly, tall, and with richly molded faces” may — though not necessarily — turn out to be Hugos, Hamlets, Zhukovs, and Napoleons, as well as Don Quixotes and Balzacs. An enlarged belly can occur in a representative of any type — it is not typological, although some types acquire this feature more often. And of course a large belly depends heavily not only on self-control but also on age. There is a real danger that, using the description above, you will fail to recognize the majority of this type’s representatives and, conversely, will assign to it many people who have no relation to the type. But what is still worse is that such descriptions gather together a typologically motley multitude of people and nullify the very idea of classification. Of course, one can assign people with large bellies to a single type, but that will no longer be a psychological typology — it will be a different one altogether. One may say that TAF relies to a significant degree on inessential features.

It is therefore unsurprising that Afanasyev assigned to this type a multitude of people who, by socionic notions, belong to the types Hamlet (Ei), Balzac (iL), Don Quixote (Il), Napoleon (Se), Hugo (Es), Stirlitz (Ls). Of course one may argue about who is right here, but socionics has a stricter scientific basis and more developed diagnostics — though, regrettably, still leaving much to be desired.

And here is the next diagnostic gem: “The most distinctive feature of the ‘dumas’s’ appearance is a kind of absolutely unchallenged dominance of sexuality in it.” To assert such a thing, one must first define sexuality — and then it will turn out that at least half the types look sexual. In any case, this is not a typological but a physiological feature, very subjective and very situational: someone may seem sexual to one person and not to another, differently at different moments; moreover, techniques exist that allow anyone at all to be given a sexual appearance.

Such statements of Afanasyev’s as “The already excessive 1st Physics becomes even more excessive under the pressure of the 3rd Will” ought to presuppose a theoretically grounded system for interpreting functional combinations, but, in most cases at least, they have the character of subjective improvisations that merely suggest meanings behind which there is no logical foundation.

Much of what Afanasyev writes about Dumas can easily be assigned to the category of beautiful literary absurdities. For example, “Dumas as the embodiment of sexual productivity,” “This role he specially prepares and polishes before the mirror for standard situations,” or “the beauty of the ‘dumas’ almost always smacks of a certain vulgarity.” Far greater embodiments of sexual productivity are the Zhukovs, Huxleys, Hugos, or Napoleons. Erroneous notions of the Dumas type lead Afanasyev to assign to it such representatives of the Napoleon type as Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley. The subjective assessment of Dumas’s beauty as “smacking of a certain vulgarity” is “justified” by Afanasyev with a semblance of a logic of functional combinations: “The point here is that in the ‘dumas’ the sensuality of the 1st Physics is not ennobled by a calm faith in oneself, as happens in combination with the 2nd Will (‘chekhov’, ‘goethe’), and is not softened by childlikeness, as with the 4th Will (‘epicurus’, ‘borgia’). In the ‘dumas’ the 3rd Will deforms and vulgarizes the appearance, hypertrophying, on the one hand, the already pumped-up 1st Physics, and, on the other, sending outward, to the surface, from the depths of a broken soul, impulses of fear and constant discontent, lending his face an expression that can hardly be called sweet” (emphasis mine — S.Ch.). Here the following points deserve note. If a logic of functional combinations exists, it must be written out and theoretically grounded, as in socionics; and, moreover, it is utterly unacceptable to describe a normal type in pathologically accentuated terms.

Author: “The defects of the ‘dumas’s’ appearance, however, are easily concealed by the powerful, infinitely flexible 2nd Emotion. I do not know where it comes from, but fate endows him with such a talent for charm that resisting it is practically impossible.”

Editor: “Defects of appearance” can be “concealed” by anything at all — emotionality, will, intellect, or simply cosmetics — but a type cannot have “defects of appearance.” As for the talent for charm, it is present in all ethical types, but a surplus of it can be spoken of above all in the socionic Napoleon and Huxley. In any case, each type’s charm rests on specific mechanisms inherent in precisely that type. Afanasyev, plainly exaggerating reality, ascribes the maximum of charm to the Dumas type.

Author: “The reservoir of charm … was such that, when he wished, he could pour it onto his victim by the bucketful, paralyzing and forcing even people who knew him inside out to become, if only briefly, trusting.”

Editor: In socionics such a manifestation of “charm” corresponds to 2e, which the two above-named TIMs possess — but not Dumas, whose charm is distinguished by softness and tact. Recall at least the famous actor Tabakov — especially in his youth.

Author: “Sensual and sensitive in his first two functions, he is hypnotically attractive in his sexuality and knows it.”

Editor: This too is about Napoleon and Huxley. As for Dumas, being an introvert, he is considerably less hypnotic — if that term is even appropriate here. The point is that besides “energetic” hypnoticness there exists typological hypnoticness — each type has its own — and it is theoretically incorrect to ascribe this property to any single type.

Such characterizations of Dumas in Afanasyev as “charming scoundrel” or “pleasant hypocrite” do not pertain to the psychotype — here one should speak of the sociotype, that is, of a person’s characteristic or typical manifestation in society at the level of a social role. Characteristic of Afanasyev is a mixing of the psychological and the social, which casts a shadow on his methodological positions.

From the foregoing one may conclude that Afanasyev, with the help of his typology, divides people by inessential or poorly specified features into more or less random groups, which, in the absence of reliable tests, only increases the confusion — though it may impress an inexperienced reader.

Author: “By his aesthetic credo the actor-‘dumas’ is a spontaneous realist, a conscious or unconscious adherent of the Stanislavsky system (by all appearances, Stanislavsky himself was a ‘dumas’). The chief requirement of this system is complete adequacy in conveying emotional states (2nd Emotion). Stanislavsky’s celebrated (though borrowed) phrase ‘I don’t believe it!’ is the chief and sole aesthetic quality-control test for the actor-‘dumas’. Let us add that although the Stanislavsky system was created as a theatrical system, in its essence it is not theatrical, since theater is fundamentally non-realistic. The Stanislavsky system is a cinematic system, and evidently this is the main reason for its phenomenal success in recent decades. Cinema is fundamentally realistic, and the demand for impeccable adequacy of facial expression, gesture, and sound is a legitimate demand for it.”

Editor: In this quotation, besides the endearing absurdities in the description of DUMAS, one can see certain aesthetic credos of Afanasyev’s that are likewise far from generally accepted. If we turn to the prototype of this type, Dumas père, then to call the romantic who wrote The Three Musketeers a spontaneous realist — the tongue simply refuses. Of course everything depends on definitions, and if one counts unbridled literary fantasy or a frivolous attitude toward money as realism, then — yes. And, by all appearances, Stanislavsky was not a DUMAS — he was an LSE, capable of systematizing his own artistic explorations, and whose appearance in no way corresponds to what was given at the outset: “Thrusting his belly forward, he processes along the sidewalk with lazy grace, shuffling, toes turned out…” The author’s reasonings about the cinematic or theatrical nature of the Stanislavsky system remain at the level of homespun amateurism.

Author: “Nero was a ‘dumas’, i.e., a born actor, and if he did not win fame in that field, it was not his fault.”

Editor: The author ascribes the Dumas type to Nero solely on the basis of assessing him as a born actor. Besides the exceptional superficiality of such a determination, we again see here the mixing of the psychological and the social. It might have been a discovery had the author managed to describe social roles theoretically, or at least to distinguish some class of them, proving that social behavior is uniquely determined by the combinatorics of the categories he proposed. Instead of this, however, we see eclectic accumulations of extreme and anecdotal examples from the biographies of famous people. Socionics can justifiably conclude that the bearer of a certain type has an innate capacity to feel and foresee the emotional reactions of other people and to control his own — but this is no basis for considering such people born actors. Socionics works with psychological characteristics, not with their social embodiments. That is the task of another science.

Author: “Harder than acting for the ‘dumas’ are the crafts of dancer and musician. Dancing does not come off for him owing to a certain sluggishness of the 1st Physics. In ballet a ‘dumas’ can impress with expressiveness of gesture, with the sexual undulation of appetizing curves of various kinds (Mata Hari, Isadora Duncan), but speed, lightness, and coordination are not to be expected from his plasticity. That is why, however much Caligula — another emperor-‘dumas’ — strove for a dancer’s fame, he received it only together with the throne and lost it with the same.”

Editor: Of course, if the author understands Dumas as a person with a “belly thrust forward” who walks “shuffling his feet with toes turned out,” then what dancing could there be. Yet socionic Dumas both love to dance and dance beautifully as a form of sensory self-realization — though of course for this they must keep in shape. That requirement, however, is mandatory for all dancers.

Author: “Another problem of the ‘dumas’, common to dance and music, is the lack of an ear for music usual for the 1st Physics.”

Editor: Given the typological blurriness of the author’s image of Dumas, people with a good ear will inevitably fall into this group — and of course among people of the DUMAS type there are many remarkable musicians.

Author: “In general, for the specially interested, I can say that the sight of a singer of rich build, not to say portly, with a rich, multilayered, and emotionally complex repertoire does not permit one to assert with certainty, but with a high degree of probability permits one to suppose, that a ‘dumas’ is on stage.”

Editor: An example of a blurry assertion. Moreover, the supposition of a singer on stage plainly contradicts the previous assertions about the absence of musical ear in people of this type.

Author: “Recently, with the furious development of the video-show industry, the demands on a performer’s looks have noticeably tightened, and an attractive exterior has become no less important a condition of a musical career than perfect pitch and a beautiful voice. This circumstance proved most opportune for the ‘dumas’, who lacks neither looks nor a pull toward music. And at present this psychotype reigns practically unchallenged in the music business (Elvis Presley, Paul McCartney, Freddie Mercury, José Iglesias, Madonna, etc.)”

Editor: Elvis Presley is a Napoleon, José Iglesias a Huxley, and Madonna a Stirlitz. By enrolling such typologically different people into the Dumas type, one can secure any statistics whatsoever. And can it really be that all these pop stars had a poor ear for music?

Author: “Success awaits the ‘dumas’ in the literary field as well. Here one recalls: Ovid, Byron, D’Annunzio, Dumas père, Balzac, Maupassant, Verlaine, Yesenin, A. Tolstoy.”

Editor: Byron is a Napoleon, Balzac a Balzac, Yesenin a Yesenin, A. Tolstoy a Napoleon.

Author: “This list probably requires a small commentary, since the inclusion in it of Balzac and Dumas — writers of the romantic rather than the realistic school — may provoke objections. Anticipating these, I will simply recall that the creative work of the 3rd Will generally has a somewhat ‘pop’, opportunistic character, and the flowering of Balzac’s and Dumas’s writing fell in the period of the unchallenged dominance in French literature of the school of Hugo, the school of romanticism. The ‘dumas’ is not so strong-willed and self-assured as to row openly against the current, so both writers — the flexibility of the 2nd Emotion happily permitting — obediently moved along the beaten path, sabotaging on the sly the norms and precepts of romantic writing: Dumas with the poorly disguised cynicism of his works, Balzac with detailed, exhaustive, everyday-life description sticking out like an awl from a sack.”

Editor: One cannot regard such a commentary otherwise than as not merely highly superficial but as grossly distorting literary realities. Where does the author see cynicism — poorly disguised, no less — in the works of Dumas père? An adventure novel, yes — but what has cynicism to do with it? How can the subtle psychologism of Honoré de Balzac be confused with mere everyday-life description — something not exceeding the enumeration of sensorily colored facts?

Author: “I do not wish to frighten anyone, but the ‘dumas’ is by nature an exhibitionist. In his hyper-corporeality the ‘dumas’ is more than a nudist.”

Editor: Can this really be about Stanislavsky?

Author: “I do not wish to frighten anyone, but the ‘dumas’ is by nature a rapist. Violence is the simplest and most natural reaction for him to arising difficulties.”

Editor: Recall such remarkable actors as Tabakov, Leonov, or Bronevoy — how could this characterization possibly apply to them?

Author: “Still more do I not wish to frighten anyone, but the ‘dumas’ is a sadist.”

Editor: Comment is superfluous.

Author: “If we add to what has been said that, along with sham flesh, nature endows the ‘dumas’ man with strong emotionality, then the effeminate, transsexual essence of this type will appear in all its terrible nakedness. A coquette in a sheriff’s makeup — such is the ‘dumas’ man, in essence a non-man… It is precisely psychological transsexualism that leads the ‘dumas’ man onto the road of sadistic crimes of the widest range — from everyday mania to murders in the style of ‘Jack the Ripper’. In this case a woman in a man’s spacesuit rapes a woman. The phenomenon of the motiveless criminality of the ‘dumas’ consists in this. The point is that it is neither schizophrenia nor the Oedipus complex that pushes the ‘dumas’ onto the path of sadistic crimes, but his own psychotype, the combination of the 1st Physics and the 3rd Will, and the gravity of the crimes depends directly on the degree of unhingedness of the 3rd Will.”

Editor: How much cynicism there is in these assertions! The author passes off his own opinion as the result of scientific research. Science here is replaced by literary shock-effect.

Author: “The question of the political talents of the ‘dumas’ is debatable. He is charming, artistic, cunning, suspicious, cruel — none of which is harmful for a politician. But he is too suspicious, too senselessly cruel, to be a good politician; he is greedy, dissolute, shortsighted, suggestible, and impulsively mendacious.”

Editor: This is again about the socionic Napoleon.

Author: “The features described above, I think, already allow the reader to proceed to the personal identification of ‘dumas’ politicians. He will be partly helped by a small list compiled by the author: Cleopatra, Nero, Caligula, Commodus, Caracalla, Elagabalus, Ivan the Terrible, Anna Ioannovna, Alexander I, Pope Alexander VI, Sultan Abdul-Aziz, Louis XIV and Louis XV, Charles II Stuart, Trotsky, Zinoviev, Beria, Brezhnev, Mao Zedong, Saddam Hussein.”

Editor: The author apparently believes he has prepared the reader sufficiently to independently pick out the “cruel dimwit” Dumas from human diversity.

Author: “Turning now to the national question, one is forced, not without sadness, to note the predominance of the ‘dumas’ among Russians, and Slavs generally. With all the consequences flowing from that circumstance. Judge for yourselves: ‘Russians are the foremost actors in the world… In no society, except perhaps the Polish, have I met such charming people… When Russians wish to be amiable, they become enchanting, and you fall victim to their charms against your will, against all prejudices. At first you do not notice how you fall into their nets, and later you can no longer, and no longer wish to, free yourself from them. To express in words wherein precisely their charm consists is impossible. I can only say that this mysterious “something” is innate in the Slavs’ (de Custine)… ‘This is a distrustful, intractable, timid, yet at the same time haughty nation… Russians possess extraordinary physical strength but are extremely lazy and give themselves over most willingly to debauchery… Russians have no notion of truthfulness and see in lying only an ornament’ (Palmquist)… ‘All Russia is a country of greedy and lazy people of some sort: they eat and drink terribly much. They love to sleep in the daytime and snore in their sleep. They marry for order in the house, and take mistresses for prestige in society. Their psychology is a dog’s: beat them — they whimper quietly and hide in their kennels; caress them — they lie on their backs, paws up, and wag their tails’ (Chekhov)…”

Editor: The author takes on faith the words of assorted random and superficial witnesses and passes their words off as empirical confirmation of his literary fantasies. And the opinion of a negative literary character from Chekhov’s works he elevates to the rank of a spiritual revelation of the writer himself.

Below is a table comparing Afanasyev’s DUMAS with the corresponding socionic types, after examining which one wants to ask: how badly must one’s notion of human character be distorted to squeeze such typologically different people into a single type?

Comparison of Afanasyev’s “Dumas” with their socionic determinations — Table 03.03

Per Afanasyev	Socion
Dumas père	sE
Rasputin	eI
Rajneesh (Osho)	Il
Nero	Ei
Stanislavsky	Ls
A. Tolstoy	se
Mata Hari	Ie
Sarah Bernhardt	Ls
Sophia Loren	se
E. Yevstigneyev	sE
Caligula	Es
Marquis de Sade	Se
Ivan the Terrible	Ei
Saddam Hussein	lS
Trotsky	Ei
Zinoviev	iE
Tchaikovsky	Es
Chaliapin	Ei
José Iglesias	Ie
Madonna	Ls
Byron	Se
Mao Zedong	Se

Imitating Afanasyev’s diagnostic style, one is tempted to say: “By all appearances, the author was a DUMAS.” Rich, expressive language; a romantic stylistics often verging on cynicism; superficial erudition far removed from the analytical demands of methodology; a readiness to cross the line of reliability for the sake of a vivid phrase; spontaneous type diagnosis resting on the author’s subjective confidence in the impeccability of his own improvisations.

Conclusions

It is a pity that the author’s literary talent and psychological observational gift have produced a beautiful text that rivets the reader’s attention but misleads him — in effect deceives him — since this is nothing other than psychological fiction.

Literature

1. Afanasyev A., The Syntax of Love, Moscow, 2000.