Jung on Shadow and Evil: Individual and Collective

By Bob Bongiovanni, MA

 

What is the nature of evil, and how does it relate to the shadow?  Jung wrote extensively on this subject, invoking the criticism of theologians and psychologists alike.  However, rather than retreating from the subject, this collective response only invigorated Jung and led to deeper and deeper inquiry.  The positions and conclusions he reached are not simple or even completely consistent.  But they did serve the purpose he intended:  to force us to look at the most disturbing aspects of our individual and collective lives, engage with them, and take ownership where appropriate.

 

Part of the problem with Jung’s approach is his failure to define the basic terms.  What does he mean by good and evil?  At times, he equates good with light and evil with darkness, and states that the Self contains both and is a balance of both.  So, this would imply that evil originates in the Self and comes from the place of darkness, the shadow.  But, at other times, Jung extols the virtues of darkness and deprecates those superficial people who aspire only to the light.  Similarly, Jung writes about the contradictory nature of God, emphasizing how God’s evil side brings suffering to poor Job and to us all.  And yet, this is the same Jung who, in the final chapter of his autobiography, speaks of the essence of God as an indescribable love.

 

Jung wrote most extensively on the subject of evil in his book, Answer to Job.  Jung’s purpose was to attack the superficial, one-sided concept of God found in mainstream theology and replace the concept with one that rings more true with psychological experience.  The God in the Book of Job is an overpowering tyrant, mostly blind to the suffering of wretched Job.  He’s too unconscious to be moral.  As Jung might say, the ego can be moral and conscious, but the Self is an amoral, blind force.  God succumbs to his own evil side, personified by Satan, and inflicts suffering on Job unjustly.  To this day, this evil side of God has not been integrated into the canonical Christian God-image.  God is sorely in need of healing from this split, and that requires him to become incarnated into human beings, pinned in space and time, where the opposites may unite through human consciousness.  The incarnation of God began with Christ, but has yet to be completed because only the light side has been accepted.  That’s our job now.

 

Evil comes into human life in this context.  The origin of human evil is in God himself.  He fills us with evil as much as he fills us with good, and that is why he should be feared.  We are prone to identify with the evil side of the Self, and then we are capable of perpetuating horrific acts.  Who are the most prone to this possession by evil?  Those who have been wounded as children and therefore have a troubled relationship with the unconscious, particularly the shadow.

 

There’s plenty of evidence to support Jung’s proposition that evil is an essential and ineradicable part of the human psyche.  Our history is filled with holocausts, death camps, callousness, and evil beyond description, often perpetuated by people who had no personal grudge against the victim, but who calmly and methodically perpetuated their acts as if at the bidding of an evil master.

 

NeoJungian analyst John Sanford presents an interesting deconstruction of Jung’s ideas on evil in his book Jung and the Problem of Evil.  He points out some inconsistencies in Jung’s thinking on the subject.  For instance, Jung places ultimate faith in the power of dreams to heal and to guide the process of individuation.  Dreams originate in the Self, the archetype of wholeness.  However, if in fact the Self is equal parts good and evil, might not dreams sometimes deceive and destroy – perhaps even half of the time?  Sanford offers an alternative explanation of evil, which he illustrates to be consistent with the core of Jung’s thinking, while still addressing some of its incompleteness and contradictoriness.

 

Sanford begins by exploring the meaning of “goodness.”  He dismisses the simple descriptions of goodness, such as absence of darkness or paradox or blemish.  Instead, he proposes that goodness means wholeness.  As he puts it, “if something is whole it is sound and is as it ought to be, and that is what makes it good.  Evil, then, would be the power that seeks to destroy wholeness.”  Sanford goes on to say that the essence of the Self is creativity.  Again, in the words of Sanford, “That which is creative seeks to bring about ever new and more creative forms of life and consciousness.  Evil, then, would be whatever opposes the creative goals and energies of the Self.   To say that the Self is creative also means that the truth emanates from it, since one cannot build anything creative on a foundation of falsehood.  Psychologically this means that if we are to develop in accordance with the Self we must see the truth about ourselves.  . . .  As far as the Self is concerned, the first manifestation of the Self we are likely to experience is its dark side, as it destroys that within us that is not fit to exist.”  According to Sanford, what goes wrong is egocentrism.  The egocentric ego avoids the truth and insists upon seeing the world in its own way, leading to one-sidedness and propensity to possession.  For Sanford, evil does have an archetypal base, but not as part of the archetype of the Self, but as part of the archetype of choice.  Here is another quote from Sanford:

 

Choice is fundamental to the individuation process, or, to put it theologically, to the knowledge of God.

Psychological and spiritual development involves the mak­ing of choices, as does life itself. Whether they are made con­sciously or unconsciously makes no difference as far as their psychological and spiritual consequences are concerned. Our capacity—and necessity—for choice making is perhaps the most important quality distinguishing us from other forms of animal life.

Life, and the Self, hold us responsible for our choices no matter how we arrive at them. The fact that we may be unconscious of the choices we are making does not shelter us from their consequences. There is a certain impartial ruthlessness in the spiritual life just as there is in nature. If you hike into the wil­derness without taking proper precautions and are caught in an unexpected snowstorm you may very well freeze to death. In our spiritual and psychological lives the consequences of our choices are equally impartial and ruthless. Even though two Jungian analysts wrote a book called Man the Choice-Mak­er,' Jungian psychologists generally, along with other psychol­ogists, pay little attention to the matter of choice. This is un­derstandable when it comes to psychologists such as the behaviorists, for they don't believe there is such a thing as choice: human behavior is just a matter of conditioning. But Jungian psychology believes in the archetypes, and there sure­ly must be an archetype for something as fundamental to hu­man existence as choice.

Evil, and its personification in the figure of Satan, is part of this archetype, for if evil did not exist neither would choice. The archetype of choice requires that there are alternatives from which to choose. A decision to say yes to something must carry with it the possibility of saying no. A choice toward the good must also have a choice toward the bad. When a moral or spiritual choice is to be made there must be alternatives: One either chooses for or against the purposes of the Self or God. If  there were not such choice in the world, spiritual development and psychological consciousness could not take place, and indi­viduation would be impossible.

However, this does not place evil at the heart of the Self. Like all archetypes, the archetype of choice, which includes evil, is subordinate to the Self. To put it theologically, we could say that evil is allowed by God's plan but does not express God's intent.

 

Let’s take a moment to take in Sanford’s proposition and consider its implications.  The path of individuation requires us to continually make choices, from the simple to the fundamental.  In so doing, we confront the archetype of choice.  One choice leads to increasing wholeness and creativity – the other choice leads to limitation.  That second choice is seductive.  It is the adversary, the essence of evil.  The ego, vested with free will, must choose wisely and courageously, or it will perpetuate the ultimate betrayal and commit the only true sin – failing to become more fully what it was meant to be.  This can be very confusing for the ego.  The choice that is most difficult is often the choice in favor of individuation, whereas the easy answer often originates with the adversary.  A seeming disaster, which completely upsets the best-laid plans of the ego, inviting in the shadowy unlived life, may seem like an evil intrusion to the egocentric ego – when, in fact, it is the face of creativity, wiping the slate clean to make way for what must come next.