There's a term popular on the internet, "hive mind," where a large number of people can develop collective intelligence, but may also reach uncritical conformity. Laline Paull's novel The Bees quite literally depicts a hive mind. This author's bee hive is a highly regimented matriarchy, a stern religious order where members often repeat the main decree: "Accept, obey, and serve."
Paull's main character, Flora 717, is born unusually large and able to speak, unlike other floras, whose strict and sole role is sanitation, the lowest caste in the hive. In this most rigid of social systems, a monarchy, each individual has a prescribed lifetime job. Survival is a constant concern in the hive, and throughout the novel Flora shows both prototypes of point Six--the "phobic," fearful side and the "counterphobic" tendency to break the rules. She carries within her both obedience and rebellion.
It's the highest law of the hive, punishable by death, that only the Queen may breed; thus, it's a sin for a worker to lay eggs. In fact, any difference from assigned roles and capabilities is punishable by death. As Flora is cleaning up after her own birth and awaiting inspection, dark figures stride down the corridor to a nearby, newly hatched bee, one--whose wings have a shriveled edge--had run away from them because she knew they would kill her:
"You fled inspection."
"Spare me," she cried. "I will not fly, I will serve in any other way."
"Deformity is evil. Deformity is not permitted."
A character's maturation at point Six shows greater personal integrity and courage vs. blindly following the rules, and Flora's developing self-confidence, abilities, and courage perfectly convey this growth arc. For example, her ability to catch scents is similar to point Six's highly developed "antennae" for what could go wrong.
Here's a scene after Flora has bravely fought an intruding wasp, definitely not part of her limited role from birth, but the queen's ladies can't dictate her death because she's saved the hive. In the following conversation you'll also hear condescension and "othering" that are similar to racism:
"So shocking," Lady Burnet offered her water to drink. "But how wonderfully you speak. I can understand nearly every word. Not like a flora at all. Now, if only you did not look it! Ladies, it would be a fitting tribute, would it not, for her bravery?
Would you like that, my dear?"
"To change my kin?"
"And lose your wonderful heritage" Lady Burnet laughed. "Goodness me, no! But we might disguise it a little."
When they had exhausted their skills with grooming, pomade, and propolis, the ladies trained Flora in how to sit and rise, but were forced to let her splaying curtsy go uncorrected, for there was nothing to be done with that.
Some of my favorite scenes are of Flora in the dance hall, the room where the forager bees alert the others where to find food, all of this communicated through rapturous dance. There is also humor here: the male bees--preening, strutting drones--are hilarious sex fiends:
"Think now of those foreign princesses waiting for us. How fatigued, how impatient for love must they be? Would you bind them in chastity a single moment longer? Or shall we fill our bellies with the strength of this hive, then free them with our swords?"
This is accompanied by a suitably lewd gesture.
In a different royal setting, we have Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex. Of course, we are not "typing" him, but looking for how well his likely character type can be drawn in selections from his memoir, Spare. Though ghostwritten by J.R. Moehringer, much of Spare's content is presented in Harry's voice, in direct quotes, where his interests, behaviors, and reactions become quite clear.
Because we know so much about Harry’s life, we can see the genesis of one of the most identifying qualities of point Six—questioning one’s own inner power/looking to an authority for direction, yet paradoxically challenging authority, as we saw in Flora 717. We also see the push/pull that’s typical at point Six—wanting to resolve issues with his father and brother, yet sharing information that’s guaranteed to annoy them, such as private email messages between Megan and Kate, as if he hasn’t just placed another barrier between them.
Characters at point Six struggle between fearfulness and courage. Harry is very open about his fearfulness, starting when he was a child.
“I pulled the sheets and covers to my chin, because I didn’t like the dark. No, not true, I loathed the dark. Mummy did too, she told me so . . . I always insisted on the door being left open a crack . . .”
And who wouldn’t have a touch of paranoia, being hounded by the press from the time he was a little boy and knowing how the press pursued his mother. His courage developed in his military career, where he ended up piloting rescue helicopters, one of the most dangerous jobs.
Also characteristic at point Six is a mental jockeying, back and forth, back and forth. Hamlet is one of the most often cited characters with this dynamic (“To be or not to be”). A tragic example of this tortured thinking in Harry is how, following Diana’s death, he actually convinced himself she wasn’t dead; she had concocted the story of her death and gone into hiding:
“This was all a trick. And for once the trick wasn’t being played by the people around me, or the press, but by Mummy. Her life’s been miserable, she’s been hounded, harassed, lied about, lied to. She’s staged an accident as a diversion and run away.”
“Of course! It’s a ruse, so she can make a clean start!” . . . Then doubt crept in . . . Then back to relief. . . Then doubt again . . . Then relief . . .”
“She’s gone. No, she’s hiding. She’s dead. No. she’s playing dead.”
When their Aunt Sarah brought Harry and William each a lock of hair she’d clipped from Diana’s body, Harry thought to himself,
“She’s really gone.”
Then almost immediately, “No, this could be anybody’s hair. Mummy, her beautiful blond hair intact, was out there somewhere. I’d know if she weren’t. My body would know. My heart would know.”
Harry never fully accepted Diana’s death until he was grown and went to see the tunnel where the accident happened.
We also see in Harry's self-descriptions how the numbers to either side of a point, called the "wings," can provide nuance to a character's inner thoughts, actions, and dialogue. We've just taken a look at point Five, and it's clear in Harry's memoir that the qualities associated with Five are not strongly present in his character. He states very clearly that he's not the intellectual his father Charles is:
“Study, concentration, requires an alliance with the mind, and in my teen years I was waging all-out war with mine . . . when I was forced to sit quietly with a book—I freaked out. . . the whole basis of education was memory. . . but . . . my memory had een spotty since Mummy disappeared . . . and I didn’t want to fix it, because memory equaled grief. . . What troubled Pa most was how I went out of my way to avoid books. He didn’t merely enjoy books, he exalted them. Especially Shakespeare.”
In contrast, the qualities of point Seven seem to be a strong influence in Harry. Point Seven's psychological defense against childhood pain is to deny it and focus on the positive. and if you search the internet for more information about the Enneagram or about Prince Harry, you'll find that some people even "type" him at Seven.
It's true that he loves to play with children, loves to make his mates laugh, and you've probably read about his drinking and other exploits when he was younger. His apparent issues seem to be mostly at point Six, though, with that push-pull thinking in many areas of his life, strong alliance with his social groups (mates in school and in the Army), a very strong bond with his wife Megan, conflict with "the institution," and how he shows both fear (of the dark) and courage (in Afghanistan).
Ironically, the bane of Harry's existence--hounding by the media--seems to foretell this key preoccupation at point Six. His brother Will is quoted in Spare as having told Harry "You're delusional," referring to Harry's belief that the palace is planting stories in the media to make Charles, Will, and Kate look good, at Harry and Megan's expense.
When still at point Six but more self-observing, characters are highly family-oriented in personal life and team-oriented at work, energetic, attending to interdependent needs, using group-oriented language, challenging in ways that hold others accountable, bringing out the best in everyone. This latter quality, Harry’s desire that his royal family explore their beliefs, so they understand he’s not calling them racist; he only wants them to look at their unconscious bias . . . and, I’m tempted to say, then everything will be resolved.
