Introversion vs. extroversion is a false dichotomy

Somehow sometime ago, I came to believe that the only way to understand the world is through getting to know ourselves. It’s not as closed-ended as it sounds: we get to know ourselves through our interaction with the world. We and the world are in sync. I love to imagine this as a cycle in my head.

We change and the world changes with us. The world changes and we (have to) adapt.

This makes the study of personalities very exciting. I stopped counting how many personality tests I’ve done so far but each of them had some element of truth to it.

While these tests have much value, they are simplifications and aim to categorise us as individuals. They intentionally omit numerous situational settings and focus just on those that are rather typical across the board.

When over two years, I got three different results in the Myers-Briggs test I got very suspicious. INFP, ENTJ, ENSP.

These tests usually focus on many other factors rather than extroversion/introversion, and yet this dichotomy has become incredibly spread as a tool of categorising people. Really sad it’s not as easy as seems.

Believing that introverts are gloomy nerds who prefer books to human interaction, or that extroverts are social butterflies who are destined to succeed in sales, or politics, or whatever is very much like entering a building you’ve never been to and basing your judgment on whether you like it or not by the entrance door.

It’s so easy to put a label on someone and say “oh you don’t talk much you must be an introvert!”. Yes, sure. An introvert in this particular situation, with all its unique characteristics, at most.

In psychology, extroversion and introversion remain topics of debate. I even recently came across the idea of “functional extrovert” which is very close to what I’m trying to say here.

Neither of us is either/or and can’t be. And shouldn’t aspire to. We’re both. We’re complete.

I’m writing this because I really dislike how easily we rush into putting labels on others. I understand that this is an attempt to create a framework, but it doesn’t seem to work well in the long run. By putting people in categories - even if we do it right - we still dismiss the potential they could realise if they were placed in a different basket. We’re not one, we’re limitless units in the world of limited resources (especially time).

Introversion/Extroversion is a narrative. No surprise that the most basic imaginable definition of extroversion and introversion got embedded in our minds. Narratives spread through the word of mouth and really are very much like an infection.

Narratives are everywhere we go. We all live in narratives, and while we probably can’t change or challenge them all, we should be mindful of their existence.

Climate change alarmism, protectionism, [insert literally anything] is a narrative.

We love narratives that align with our views and criticise the ones that don’t. But generally, we love narratives as a concept (yes, I’m generalising too). After all, it’s pretty much like imagining ourselves living in a movie.

What narratives implicitly teach us is that a human being - a hero or a villain or whatever - is just a part of the whole. We can’t imagine Hamlet without a situational background, can we? We know Dorian Gray only through the situations revealed to us by Wilde. Our description of him would only be sensible if seen through the lens of the circumstances we are aware of. It can’t go any further, we can’t generalise or assume because we lack the information. Because Dorian Gray is one complicated piece-puzzle in a much greater puzzle game which is constantly evolving.

Just like us in the world.

Next time we feel inclined to call someone an introvert or extrovert or put any label on them, let’s ask ourselves whether we, as actors in the play of life, would like to deal with such simple characters. If they are simple, then we are simple too. Doesn’t make for an exciting play, does it?

Who wants to read a book being sure you know how it will end.