Experiment #1. A more minimalist way of Observing Psychosophy

I never thought this article would end up being written in a single afternoon. Anyone who has read my previous articles will probably know that I am not particularly fond of personality typologies.

The story actually began last year, when I happened to come across Attitudinal Psyche—a typology system developed from Alexander Afanasiev's Psychosophy. I tried to read almost everything I could find, from Attitudinal Psyche and BestSocionics to community discussions and summaries of Syntax of Love, all in an attempt to type myself (a rather embarrassing thing to admit, I know). I do not like tests. I simply do not trust them.

In the end, I arrived at a result that I felt fairly certain about: LEVF. Even so, something about it never made me feel truly "confident" in that conclusion. It sounds contradictory, I know. Because of that, I never once thought about writing anything on the subject. Until today. Quite unexpectedly, the inspiration arrived, and perhaps everything has finally become "ripe" enough for me, at least at this point in time, to sit down and write this article.

If you are curious whether my type has changed or not, there may be an answer waiting at the end of this article (assuming I do not change my mind first, hahaha).

So what is the goal of this article?

I am not an expert in Psychosophy. Perhaps because of that, I am not overly attached to its existing terminology or established interpretations either.

What kept bothering me for a long time was not the typing result itself, but the explanation behind it. I always felt that I was looking at an interesting phenomenon, yet I could never quite find a language that felt satisfying enough to describe what I was seeing.

So in this series, I would like to ask the original authors' permission to reinterpret Psychosophy through a more everyday language—one that stays closer to lived experience—and, as much as possible, temporarily set aside the layers of philosophy and other psychological frameworks surrounding it.

Let's get into it.

If you have ever explored Psychosophy, you probably know that it comes with a rather large collection of concepts: four Aspects, four Functions, two classification axes, twenty-four Archetypes, and a long list of attributes used to describe each functional position.

If I were to temporarily set all of those concepts aside, I would try to describe the phenomenon this system is pointing toward in a much simpler sentence:

Who do I believe myself to be when participating in different Domains of Life?

And if that really is the phenomenon being described, then rather than starting with predefined archetypes or attributes, I would rather begin with what can be observed more directly: What do I usually exchange with others? What kind of content do I tend to receive or generate? And what role do I see myself playing within that content? This approach is like placing a magnifying glass over the Information Flow between myself and others.

So within Psychosophy, which domains of life do these contents belong to? And what kinds of content do those domains include?

• Understanding (L) → the domain where I confront knowledge, truth, and the way I make sense of the world.
  Commonly appears as: knowledge, reasoning, opinions, viewpoints, truth, understanding...
• Matter (F) → the domain where I confront my body, possessions, and my physical presence in reality.
  Commonly appears as: the body, health, appearance, personal taste / style, personal image, possessions, living space...
• Agency & Will (V) → the domain where I confront choice, influence, and my capacity for self-determination.
  Commonly appears as: goals, ambitions, choices, direction, responsibility, authority...
• Human Meaning (E) → the domain where I confront emotion, meaning, and connection between people.
  Commonly appears as: emotions, moods, resonance, emotional attunement, atmosphere, relationships...

Note: In this article, I use the terms Understanding, Matter, Agency & Will, and Human Meaning to emphasize observable life domains rather than the traditional terminology of Psychosophy. The symbols L, F, V, and E are retained for compatibility and reference to the original model.

The examples above are only representative rather than exhaustive. I have been considering writing a more detailed appendix dedicated to the kinds of content commonly found within each domain of life.

Back to the theory. A type is formed by arranging the four letters E, F, L, and V in different orders. As a result, Psychosophy ends up with 24 different types! (EVFL, EFVL, VFLE...) Which is great news for anyone who feels the urge to personalize an archetype a little more than eight or sixteen categories can offer.

Looking at the diagram above, you might find yourself wondering: why does Understanding (L) occupy the role of the Fuel Source, while Human Meaning (E) becomes the Playmaker? Or what causes the same Domain of Matter (F) to take on completely different roles when it appears in different positions?

This is where we need to introduce the model's underlying attributes.

But wait.

Before we go any further, I should point out that the attributes below are not part of Psychosophy's official explanation. They are part of a hypothesis I am currently experimenting with. So if you have studied Psychosophy before, some of the concepts may feel familiar, but the way they are connected here will be slightly different.

In this interpretation, each position is assigned two independent attributes:

• Do I frequently CONSIDER this Domain?
• When exchanging content within this Domain, am I more GENERATIVE-ORIENTED or RECEPTIVE-ORIENTED?

To make these two attributes easier to visualize, let's look at two ordinary examples.

I have a friend named Steve—a remarkably quiet human being—who sometimes comes across as almost naive because of how kind he is. Steve often tells me that he can understand the "emotions" behind people's words and actions. Because he understands them, he rarely feels offended or criticized. Instead, he seems to instinctively find the right words to respond to whoever he is talking to. And when I once asked him what he felt he provided best to other people, his answer genuinely surprised me: comfort, understanding, and empathy.

I have another aunt named Momie—a wonderfully talkative lady—and conversation seems to be the domain she takes the greatest pride in. No matter where she goes, whether on a bus, at a medical appointment, or simply sitting somewhere waiting, she somehow ends up chatting with the person next to her. She once even told me, rather proudly, that she had earned the nickname "Miss Congeniality" in her hospital ward. She never says it outright, but I can see a certain happiness light up her eyes whenever everyone seems to enjoy her company and take her advice to heart.

In both examples above, although one of them is remarkably quiet while the other is exceptionally talkative, I notice something strangely similar between them. Not only are they both High-Considered when it comes to atmosphere, emotions, and expression, but they also actively adjust, develop, or create a different atmosphere within a conversation in their own way.

In Steve's example, you may not immediately see him "spontaneously" generating much of anything—but that is intentional on my part. Unlike Momie, who enjoys interacting directly with lots of people, including complete strangers, Steve tends to reveal this side of himself in more private conversations. It is precisely within those one-on-one moments of connection that his tendency to adjust, guide, and develop emotional content becomes visible. I call this tendency Generative-Oriented.

In contrast, there is another friend in the group—Ethanne—a direct, witty, and charming young woman. At first glance, she comes across as a carefree entertainer, carried along by her own spontaneous and mischievous ideas. But after an interaction is over, she seems surprisingly prone to falling into a loop of checking and rechecking things through the lens of her sensitivity. She notices silence. She notices other people's reactions. And then she becomes puzzled by them. Did they misunderstand me? Do they dislike me? Was I being awkward? Was I too harsh? Did I say something I should not have?
There have even been times when she concluded, "Our relationship has started to crack. She doesn't care about me anymore," simply because a series of behaviors from the other person made her feel that way. Oh, my poor Ethanne!

Do you see it? Within the Domain of Human Meaning, Ethanne is clearly High-Considered. But unlike Steve or Momie, her attention is not focused on creating or guiding the atmosphere itself. Instead, she continually brings those reactions back to herself. Silence, distance, and other people's responses easily become material for self-questioning. For now, I will refer to this tendency as Receptive-Oriented.

At this point, you may be feeling a little unconvinced. Steve also pays attention to other people's reactions. Ethanne is perfectly capable of creating an atmosphere when she wants to. So why am I placing them into different groups?
Because the two attributes above still do not tell us how a person relates to that content. And that is where a third attribute enters the picture.

Before we get to that third attribute, let's take a quick look at how the four Psychosophy positions are arranged according to these two attributes.

With every piece of content that emerges through human interaction—whether it takes the form of emotions, knowledge, opinions, beliefs, preferences, or desires—we can observe where the Self places itself in relation to that content.

You can see that Steve tends to Objectify other people's reactions, treating them as something he can observe, consider, and respond to in whatever direction he wishes to guide the interaction. Ethanne, on the other hand, tends to Internalize those same reactions, making it easier for her to fall into cycles of self-questioning.

We will need two more examples to observe how the Domain of Human Meaning appears when it occupies Position 1 and Position 4.

First, let me introduce Beth—my niece. She rarely seems to express her emotions, and it is often difficult to tell whether she is happy or upset in any obvious way. Even after being scolded, she will usually hide under a blanket and cry out of embarrassment. But the moment she comes back out, if someone comforts her or makes her laugh, she immediately laughs along with them.
I have worried about her many times and tried talking with her to better understand what is going on in her mind, especially now that she is reaching the age where hormones are beginning to make themselves known. But the more I listened, the more I found myself with the impression that Beth does not spend much time considering the Domain of Human Meaning, and tends to move quite naturally with the emotional atmosphere around her.

My older sister, Phoebe, on the other hand, is a classic example of Position 1 within the Domain of Human Meaning. Her likes and dislikes are unmistakably clear. When she likes someone, everyone can see it—from the attention she gives them to the way she expresses herself. And when she does not like someone, that person almost disappears from her world. She does not want to see them, talk to them, or pretend otherwise. Phoebe has a very clear stance on this: no one has the right to tell her whom she should love or whom she should dislike.
She also reminds me of my friend Jade, who is far quieter than Phoebe yet occupies the same position. A mutual friend once complained to me that she felt uncomfortable whenever she saw Jade looking gloomy. But no matter what anyone says, Jade will not change for someone else's sake. She is simply sad. Why should she resist her own feelings?

With Phoebeand Jade, you can see that they both tend to Appropriate their own emotional world. The common thread is not that they experience more happiness or sadness than other people. Rather, they treat those emotions as their own and do not require their environment to validate them.

Beth, however, seems different. She appears more inclined to let her emotions move with the atmosphere around her than to hold onto them as something that needs to be protected or affirmed. I refer to this tendency as Entrustment.
It may sound a little strange, since emotions are not external objects that can literally be entrusted to someone else. They are deeply personal and deeply primitive. So here, Entrustment does not carry the meaning of a formal transfer of responsibility. Instead, it describes a state in which a person does not feel much need to take on the responsibility of continuously considering that Domain. As the surrounding atmosphere changes, they can easily absorb it and move along with it.

None of the examples above emerged from a single conversation or a handful of encounters. Steve, Ethanne, Phoebe, Jade, and Beth are all people I have known and observed over a fairly long period of time—measured in years, not days.

That is also why I do not believe typing should be based on a single snapshot. Everyone has days when they are sadder than usual, more proactive than usual, or more sensitive than usual. Patterns reveal themselves gradually through repeated interactions. It is a bit like assembling a puzzle piece by piece until the picture becomes clear enough to recognize.

Among the Psychosophy archetypes, I have occasionally come across certain types being described as more "extreme" than others. That idea made me think quite a bit about the way we view archetypes, because I find that approach both reductive and compassionate.
Reductive because it can easily lead us to notice a few prominent traits in a person and then draw conclusions about the whole person.
Compassionate because it reminds us that such behaviors do not emerge out of nowhere. They are the result of a particular psychological structure operating beneath the surface.

But precisely because archetypes describe an underlying structure, they are better understood as tendencies that vary in intensity rather than simple on–off switches. And that also means they can never fully capture the countless ways that structure may be expressed in a particular individual.

For example, two people with E2 may both have a tendency to frequently consider and generate content within the Domain of Human Meaning. Yet Steve may express the considered side more prominently: constantly observing other people's reactions, reading the atmosphere, and adjusting the way he expresses himself. Aunt Momie, on the other hand, may express the generative side more strongly: initiating interactions, creating emotional momentum, and bringing people together.

There are also people who express both sides strongly, making that Domain a particularly visible part of their lives. Conversely, some express those tendencies much more gently, allowing the Domain to remain present without becoming a dominant force in their lived experience.

And that is still only part of the story. In reality, the positions do not exist in isolation. They are constantly interacting with one another. As a result, two people may both be E2, yet one person's E2 can look quite different from another's because of the influence of the remaining positions within the structure. This creates layers of nuance that no single archetype can fully describe.

Looking back one more time, you may notice that these four attributes do more than reveal how a person responds to content. They also offer a glimpse into how the Self positions itself in relation to the World through a particular Domain.

Some people treat their own judgments as something that requires no further validation. Others spend a great deal of time observing, reconsidering, and refining them. Some are naturally willing to care for the material needs of the people around them. Others feel more at ease when they can first consult someone they trust.

In other words, this is not merely a story about emotions, knowledge, the body, or will. It is also a story about where the Self feels it has a place, a voice, and a certain weight in the world. And that, ultimately, is the core idea that Psychosophy-NF is attempting to describe.

At this point, I think I have finished presenting the first version of this magnifying glass. It may still have many shortcomings, but at the very least, it is enough to begin observing what is actually taking place between the Self, Content, and Other People.

As for my own typing result? Perhaps I'll save that for another article. After everything I've just said, I don't really see it the same way I did a few months ago anymore. Then again, maybe I'll change my mind by the time I get there. LMAO