Steven Den Beste has written a telling reflection on psychology.
Steven, such is the rare agony that abstract thinkers face. As I'm sure you've discovered over the years, about three in every twenty people will respond enthusiastically to conceptual thinking; the other seventeen might play at it for a while but will tire before long. And many of those seventeen will interrupt you, catching you up in concrete minutiae, often taking you literally. They will not step back to appreciate the broader idea if too many minor points disturb them. As David Keirsey notes, for a very few, facts illustrate principles; for most, facts speak for themselves.
Glenn Reynolds is a very interesting contrast to you. As far as I can tell, you're both Myers-Briggs NTs, abstract utilitarians. You're both holistic thinkers. But Glenn is extroverted and informative in his systemization while you're introverted and directive in your systemization. If one reads Instapundit regularly for a week or two, they'll notice the same kind of theoretical determination that one finds in a single, highly organized U.S.S. Clueless essay. It's just that Glenn doesn't mind coming to quod erat demonstrandum indirectly, or leaving some aspects open to further consideration, or allowing for a multitude of exterior influences to move his theory along. This corresponds with Glenn's ease and comfort with allowing e-mails to go unanswered or unread; if he has a large enough sample, I suspect he will find what he needs to further his argument within a small percentage and let the rest go. You, fundamentally concerned with order and loathe to miss an important point on account of whim, are methodical — and thus heavily inclined to sift through every last piece, from thoughtful pith to dull, oblique stinkers. Enter the frustration described in the first paragraph, exacerbated by the fact that much of your work is independent of conversations with other people. (And here, Glenn is more interested in give-and-take, and can accept or repel criticism with greater ease.) Two similar goals, two psychologically similar methods, two entirely different practices and experiences.
I am an NF, if one glance at my collection of philosophical writing, bursting with colorful imagery, hasn't hit people over the head like a dinette set dropped eleven stories. Believe me, it's that stuff — and not straightforward, literal descriptions — that comes more easily when I put pen to paper. My concepts are abstract but instead of the logical progression that so typifies the work of NTs like Reynolds and Den Beste, the work reflects a sort of random-access, associative bonanza that one finds in, perhaps, Victor Davis Hanson. While I may arrive at similar conclusions as Steven, I more than likely used intuition rather than logic to travel there.
Abstract utilitarians' internal, logical construction fascinates me; I have an NT composer friend who operates in exactly the same way as Steven, building a score in his head and then throwing it all down on staff paper with, as he says, "hardly any use of the eraser." He can be flexible but is probably bothered by nitpicking because, by God, he examined countless details twice over in his head.
I can explain my intuitive leaps about as easily as the NT logical construct; there are truths which I delineate through experience, knowledge and independent movement through associations; a kind of jumping through metaphorical hoops. At the same time, I am quite orderly, fond of outlines and definition — my love in college and to this day is line drawing — and admire the phlegmatic, even-minded profile of those who work in logical conception. As a nod to Clueless, reading Steven certainly has inspired in me a greater attention to unhurried, objective and critical thinking.
I'm most successful with psychology: for many years I've prepared for difficult conversations by anticipating, almost to a script, how the other party will behave. Familiarity helps but is not entirely necessary if I can at least roughly size them up beforehand. If I concentrate, I can define motives and predict actions accurately. Sociological conclusions involve myriad variables and exceptions, far more contradictory subsets in culture than individuals, and are therefore more difficult and problematic. Even so, I am compelled to understand the nature of society and culture through the prism of a moral and ethical order. I enjoy the process and the rewards, both in my own self-awareness and the responses I receive from readers.
Likewise, one of the greatest accomplishments I've made is to have influenced, persuaded, taught and inspired others. Most of my grade school friends are one year younger; during my freshman year of college I was told that several younger students in high school — most in the marching band that I led as president the year before — had begun to emulate me, mostly in clothing and style but also ideationally. I was surprised and at first wondered how I so significantly affected people but then I realized that I had led by example. The forest, as it were, was a place where more than one person wanted to be.
Steven has the unfortunate task of reading more unhelpful e-mails than satisfied responses on a daily basis. Without a doubt, many more readers enjoy and reflect his work in their own — sans e-mail. A silent majority, yes, but better that way for the sake of Steven's inbox and patience.
ALSO: Steven mentions eidetic memory, which I believe I may have in some form. While I lose names in chance social meeting, faces stay fresh and I can recognize people I've met or seen once or twice years later; even if I don't immediately place the individual I'm struck by an overwhelming sense of recognition. I also recognize and classify sounds and timbres, able to identify their association and, if relevant, location in a particular instance or recording. (Thanks to David Holsinger's To Tame the Perilous Skies, I hear an Eb tone in my head.) I can quickly memorize and repeat strings of words and numbers; a favorite parlor trick is to repeat one, like my credit card number, backwards, and I accomplish it by referring to the impression in my mind. It drives one coworker amiably crazy. This is all probably why I can recite, at unwelcome moments, this name. There's merit in nerdiness.