Healthy Skepticism or Paranoia?
There is a great difference between healthy skepticism and paranoia. Conspiracy theories surrounding vaccines are an expression of the latter—a projection of an inner factor that originates in the collective unconscious, the shared soul of humanity. Its contents are the archetypes, and the most fundamental among them is the so-called archetype of the Self (wholeness of personality).
The condition for the development of our shared soul, like all psychic development, is the emergence of opposing forces, which manifest themselves through inner conflicts. Such manifestations are wars, epidemics, social crises, and civil unrest.
Conflict is resolved and peace arises only after we, as humanity, reach a higher level of consciousness, and this transforms the social consensus around the pathological issues that divide us. The emergence of the new inevitably passes through labor pains, and this applies not only to the development of our individual souls, but also to our collective soul. In these periods of renewal, much like in the Devil’s distorting mirrors, information becomes severely warped and the places of things are reversed. What religion calls the “devil” is that which causes us to look in the wrong direction and to resolve our emotional problems by seeking the enemy outside ourselves.
The opposite of this is to seek that enemy within and to experience the conflict inwardly. The phrase “Many are called, but few are chosen” reflects what this suspension on the cross of opposites—those tearing our souls apart—looks like.
The Left Foot of the Unconscious
And here comes the other aspect. Positive impulses for the development of our collective human soul initially manifest in their negative forms. In Jung’s analytical psychology, the expression “the left foot of the unconscious” is used, meaning that the renewal of an archetype initially appears in its negative form. What does this look like in the current situation, at the boundary between two epochs—the departing Age of Pisces and the coming Age of Aquarius, which symbolizes many things, among the most important of which are freedom, human individuality, and self-knowledge?
I will give an example with freedom. Freedom as a spiritual quality, manifested in its mature forms, has nothing in common with freedom expressed in an external, material way—namely, “not being restricted from doing what I want.” Freedom from restrictions is the childlike idea of freedom.
In order to mature psychologically and to manifest freedom in its mature forms, we must in fact pass through its exact opposite—through long periods of restriction, solitude, and isolation. In religion and mythology, the symbol of this is the Hero’s passage through the desert. Rituals of spiritual initiation also necessarily include the trial of solitude, when we encounter our inner demons and enter into open battle with them. That is why, in the restrictions currently imposed on us by the pandemic, I see precisely an impulse toward such a spiritual initiation.
The Mature Forms of Freedom
In this sense, the mature forms of freedom do not concern the ability to do whatever I want, but rather the assumption of responsibility for one’s choices. This means that if I am placed in a situation of limitation, I make a choice within that limitation and take responsibility for enduring its consequences, even if this means passing through periods of deprivation and suffering. There is a thought by Viktor Frankl that best describes the psychological meaning of limitation:
“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are forced to change ourselves.”
In other words, limitation pushes us toward change—but this is an inner change. This is the criterion for the maturity of our psychic reactions to the processes of isolation and restriction that the social situation currently imposes on us from outside—it lies in the way we respond to limitation. What pains me most is observing how the negative forms of the struggle for freedom (manifestations of the negative puer aeternus) appear precisely among people with spiritual values and ideals. As long as we see the enemy outside ourselves, nothing changes—neither within us, nor in our collective soul. Instead, driven by the emotion of anger, we perceive the enemy through projection.
I say projection because at the root of every strong emotion lies a projection, and social institutions, political parties, and the state are among the most attractive objects of projection in periods when the collective unconscious is preparing for yet another update—but enters first with its left foot.
Where Is the Problem?
It is enough to recall what happened during the Second World War. Hitler, had he not been supported by the enthusiasm and backing of people who resonated with the collective ideas of the unconscious—of which he was a mouthpiece—would have remained an ordinary failure, some mad, pitiful man riddled with inferiority complexes and delusions of grandeur and superiority. The problem is not that he was such a person, but that millions identified with the messages he conveyed to them.
This is the significant problem we are observing again today, because once more we are living in a period of active social change. The unconscious is again activated, but since positive changes enter first with their left foot, the values of freedom, individuality, and critical thinking initially manifest in their distorted, material forms. This means that the individual is not differentiated from the impulses arising from the depths of their own psyche and, instead of critical thinking, displays paranoia and belief in conspiracy theories. Instead of expressing freedom in an inner way that is responsible toward others, there appears an adolescent urge for freedom from external restrictions.
But how are we to turn our gaze inward, when seeing the Adversary outside ourselves gives us a sense of moral and intellectual superiority over others? When it diverts our attention from pain, depression, and meaninglessness, and instead provides inspiration, revolutionary fervor, and even a sense of meaning? What kind of person must one be in order to choose not to flee from pain and to acknowledge one’s limitations, fears, and feelings of inadequacy? Because this is what I see as the core message the pandemic brings us—the encounter with death, the experience of our own fragility and vulnerability before forces over which we have no control.
And How Does Change Begin?
In the foreword to the first edition of his book Two Essays on Analytical Psychology, Jung writes:
“The psychological problems accompanying the present war—above all the incredible neglect of public opinion, the mutual slanders, the unsuspected rage for destruction, the unheard-of deluge of lies, and the inability of people to restrain the bloody demon—are more than anything else suited to place before the eyes of the thinking person, again and again, the problem of the chaotic unconscious, restlessly slumbering beneath the layer of the ordered world of conscious processes.
This war has shown the civilized man that he is still a barbarian, and at the same time what an iron rod of discipline awaits him should he once again be tempted to shift responsibility for his own bad qualities onto others.
However, the psychology of the individual corresponds to the psychology of nations. What nations do, each individual does, and as long as individuals do it, nations will do it too.
Only a change in the attitude of the individual will be the beginning of a change in the psychology of the nation.
The great problems of humanity have never been solved by laws valid for all, but always only through a renewal of the attitude of the individual. If ever there was a time when self-awareness was an inescapable necessity and the only right step, it is this present age of catastrophes. But the person who becomes deeply conscious within themselves encounters the barriers of the unconscious—which is precisely what must be known.” (p. 12)
The year in which he wrote this foreword was 1916, during the First World War. After that war came the Second World War—still more devastating, dividing us, humanity, even further into two warring camps. Today we are once again passing through an age of catastrophes, even though the themes that divide us are different. Yet if we succeed in turning our gaze inward, and if we have the honesty and courage to see the Adversary in the depths of our own psyche, only then do we have a chance for true renewal—individually, as a nation, and as humanity.
And if “the unconscious is what must be known,” how exactly are we to come to know it?
Everything Begins with Projections
We do so by being aware that the unconscious reveals its contents first through projection. It makes us look outward rather than inward. This clarifies why belief in conspiracy theories—which psychology regards as a sign of low levels of mental health—is so persistent: within us there is something that strives to see the Big Picture, because it knows that beneath the surface of what is visible, hidden processes are at work, pulling the strings of the visible world. The problem is that the true hidden agent pulling those strings is the unconscious itself—something that must be known by looking into the depths of one’s own psyche. The Whole also has a Dark Face, and it is this face that is renewed within our souls.
As a psychotherapist, I am aware that defense mechanisms such as denial, projection, and rationalization have their place in the psychic reactions of individuals who do not yet possess a sufficiently strong ego to hold the opposites within themselves. These people lack the capacity to transform an external conflict into an inner one, and therefore they will use the entire arsenal of cognitive distortions—generalization, black-and-white thinking, emotional reasoning, and so on—in order to avoid encountering the pain and darkness of their own psyche. This sharing of mine is not for them, because I know that they will not understand it anyway—fanaticism, too, is one of the defense mechanisms in such situations.
This sharing is for people who are not so extreme in their views and who wish to understand how to contribute to the transformation of the Whole. To them, I would suggest reading Jung, because of all the psychological theories I am familiar with, his analytical psychology goes the deepest. But since Jung is very difficult and complex to read, I have decided here to share at least his core message—the necessity of withdrawing our projections and seeking the enemy first within ourselves; of transforming the external conflict into an inner conflict by taking upon ourselves the cross of suffering.
And perhaps the very first step in this difficult process is to acknowledge the limits of our knowledge—and to begin from there.
Kameliya Hadzhiyska
Note: The quotations are translated from Bulgarian and are not presented as verbatim citations.
