the intellect as a sword
First, the myth of the rational, choosing faculty. This is commonly called the ego. This is the part of the self that we identify with, or rather, we identify the ego with what we believe to constitute the self. I don't mean to say that this ego is completely manufactured and doesn't exist in any capacity. It's not a complete hallucination, but it doesn't have as much power as we might like to believe.
Suppose for a moment that when we make a choice, it is not a specific part of the self, vested with all decision-making authority, that restrains all physiological and emotional drives in order to force you towards the chosen direction. Instead, it is just a competition between two drives. And when one drive proves to be stronger, we invent a rationalization for why we "chose" one option over another. That is the job of the reasoning mind.
So it's not that the ego or rational mind does not exist, but it is not the master of the psyche. In fact, it is like a sword.
Lately, I have reimagined the rational mind, the intellect, as a weapon that is wielded by different passions at different moments.
Consider the situation where you are torn between multiple choices, and you spend time thinking about it only to find that you can come up with a good argument to support all of them. And this happens not simultaenously but almost as if your drives are taking turns wielding the sword of the intellect. At one moment, it seems that Option A clearly is superior and "makes more sense". In the next, the merits of Option B become more evident, and then again, there is yet another great case to be made for Option C.
It is almost like a deathmatch between competing drives, where there is one sword of "truth" which in the frenzy of battle is picked up, dropped, wrested away by force, then flung into the air. Each passion taking turns wielding this powerful weapon to try to advance its cause.
We have all experienced moments where a feeling in our gut tells us that something is wrong. And yet, when confronted about it we are ashamed to admit that it is a purely emotional judgement. So we begin to rationalize, and some people are better at this than others. For the sharpest intellect, there is an almost seamless transition from the feeling to a rationale, and this kind of person is most prone to believing that they are a logical, rational actor who acts and judges based on pure reason. And there is the other kind of person for whom the sword is quite dull, and their passions, although powerful, are clumsy at wielding the weapon and embarass themselves in debate.
Both types are not ideal. The first, obsessed with their own rationality, is completely blind to the utter subjectivity that drives their desire to argue for certain points over others. A completely rational standpoint cannot offer any moral judgement. Even the idea that truth is inherently valuable is a moral, subjective judgement. In many cases, this type of person simply accepts whatever morals are handed to them by society. They are completely unquestioning, and instead blindly argue in support of these moral judgements. They will insist that they are just being objective and presenting the facts, but what really motivates them to do this? Why are they so insistent on proving their point? Maybe it is a stubborn desire to be correct. Or maybe it is a fear of being wrong, or losing. In any case, they are deluding themselves.
The second, more "emotional" type of person struggles to quickly construct coherent arguments but is almost constantly ashamed of this fact. It may be partly attributed to the fact that we live in a culture that does not value judgements based on pure passion. But to simply blame society would be a mistake. While the intellectual type is in denial about their passions, and attempts to excise them with their sharp intellect, the emotional type is engaged in a constant war between the passions.
This stormy kind of person is volatile that precisely because they are constantly attempting to rationalize one feeling or another to give it the advantage it needs to defeat the others. But because their sword of the intellect is dull, it just leads to a drawn out melee where there are no victors and only losers. It is an exhausting life of jumping between one drive and another, which ever happens to gain the upper hand for that brief moment.
It may instead be better for the passionate man to allow his passions to take control and act as one unified whole towards fulfilling the goals of their strongest passions. On the other hand, the intellectual has to first revive and rediscover his passions, which have long been suppressed by the oppressive blade of reason.
In any case, it requires strength of will to unify the self into a directed force. Being constantly pulled back and forth by your drives is the sign of weakness.