The Alchemy of Myth: Reading Jordan Peterson’s “Maps of Meaning”

Dr Jordan Peterson, the Canadian psychologist and internet phenomenon, is the most well-known but possibly least understood intellectual of the last decade, and someone progressives love to hate. Like many people I read his best-seller 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos, and I admire his passion for understanding big issues and helping people. On the other hand, there are things I’ve never quite grasped about his worldview.

Published in 1999, Peterson’s first book, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief, was the key text he used as a Harvard University professor in psychology, and is almost as long as Ulysses by James Joyce. The book has received inordinate praise from his online fans and scathing dismissal from Peterson-hating critics, but there seems to be little discussion of a level-headed kind.

Myths of Egypt and Mesopotamia

The first half of the book focuses on well-known myths from ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, drawing out essential features. The general reader should be aware that Peterson’s writing in this book is academic in tone, and can be heavy going. His sentence structure is sometimes meandering, with many clauses and lengthy noun phrases. And apart from the preface, which gives an intimate view of his early life, there is a lot of technical jargon that can initially be vague and off-putting.

The content is a layering of ideas about human behaviour, social development, and cultural forms—carefully drawn out, but with almost no supporting empirical evidence of an historical or sociological nature. Peterson relies almost exclusively on patterns in religious mythology to establish his views, with a supporting chapter on the neuroscience of ‘affective states’.

He also quotes extensively from the foundational work of Carl Jung, Erich Neumann, and Mircea Eliade. Other prominent influences are Friedrich Nietzsche (on the cultural malaise of the West), Jean Piaget (on games and childhood development), and Thomas Kuhn (on knowledge paradigms).

Early on, Maps of Meaning forcefully decries the ascendant triumvirate of empiricism, rationality, and experimental science—together they have “killed myth,” and now “it seems impossible to believe that life is intrinsically, religiously meaningful.” (p. 7) A reality check would show this is untrue for many people living in the multicultural West, which now contains a kaleidoscope of faiths; however, the book clearly focuses on the influence of Western culture itself, as the bearer of a unique philosophical framework.

Peterson goes on to explain how human behaviour is fundamentally designed to seek an ideal future state, by making sense of the unknown. This drive towards order leads to the creation of moral or value judgements. He presents psychological models, expanded through the use of mythological stories and figures, that represent the underlying forces at work. A key focus is the trio of Mother, Father, and Divine Son—representing the Unknown, the Known, and the Knower.

Peterson’s Golden Age

Eventually Peterson unveils his own version of the Golden Age myth, that is roughly as follows: the nature of human groups evolved over “hundreds of thousands of years,” (p. 222) and through hard won experience and countless interactions, a way of life formed that was based on implicit unconsciously-held values. The people in such a society lived within a moral structure that was assumed yet unspoken, and shared “a stable pattern of behavior, “designed” to match individual and social needs.” (p. 233)

The crux of his argument is the claim that, as groups of homo sapiens evolved and adapted, living together and facing an unpredictable world, they developed complex internalised moral structures, “encoded in behavior.” (p. 230) This was a record of all that humanity as a whole had learned in its journey, from life in tribes to city states. Peterson describes the process of value formation, in one chapter, as a “hierarchy of motivation” that gradually formed from “endless loops of affective feedback.” This was a social “personality,” a kind of “mythic “ancestral” figure that everyone imitates, consciously . . . or unconsciously.” (p. 239)

Moral Truths of Existence

For Peterson, myth and religion symbolically represent the evolving moral truths of existence, which continue to shape and guide human experience in both psychological and historical terms. At an early stage in the growth of human thought and speech, group meaning was embodied first in rituals and then in spoken stories. Eventually, society integrated its implicit values with explicit mythology, using metaphorical narratives and heroic figures to dramatize deeply meaningful aspects of life.

In Maps of Meaning, myths portray large cultural and psychological forces: cosmic battles between Mesopotamian gods are seen as mystery plays, that represent both individual and social power struggles and rites of passage. Stories about creative heroic individuals are common, along with other archetypal figures. In Peterson’s perspective, myths, and the religions that grew from them, are as ‘real’ as science, as far as they represent meaningful and useful aspects of the world of experience.

However, these symbolic archetypes could not remain untouched forever. The integration of behaviour and belief with culture was eventually undermined by the rise of critical thought. It is here that Peterson’s argument becomes more complex. He sees evolving forms of cultural expression as conveyors of universal truths, yet gradually involving greater levels of abstraction: spanning from play to ritual, to drama and narrative, to greater abstraction in myth and religion, and further on to the questioning approach of Western philosophy. (p. 79)

Although a benefit in many ways, the communication of abstract ideas of greater complexity allows moral rules and structures to be criticized, modified, and even discarded. Peterson believes this process has disturbed social identity, stability, and integrity, which rely on complex religious systems of action and belief that are poorly understood by abstract thinking.

In his view, the loss of connection with value-based truth is a result of relying solely on “pure, abstract rationality,” (p. 11) and has invited dangerous forms of ideology and nihilism to arise. However, if we could understand our traditions better, then reason may begin to “support, rather than destroy” the value structures that have given meaning to our culture. (p. 234)

Human Behaviour

Looking more closely at the text, what are general factors that have influenced human behaviour over millennia? Peterson marshals an array of academic concepts, but in simple terms he states that “human nature is not infinitely malleable” and there are ‘natural’ or even ‘absolute’ constraints on how humans act. (p. 11).

Secondly, society itself “places necessary constraints on . . . thought, emotion and behavior,” (p. 216) and provides “universal boundaries for acceptable human morality.” (p. 230)

Thirdly, “social interaction (cooperation and competition) [is] designed to meet emotional demands” which have “a universally constant and limited form, as a consequence of their innate psychobiological basis.” (p. 240)

Essentially, the first two are limitations imposed on us by nature and culture themselves, while the third is the motivating force of our affective instinctual needs, which we all share as human beings.

The Challenge of Anomalies

A further influence on our behaviour is humanity’s contact with sudden and inexplicable forces—what Peterson calls an ‘anomaly’—anything from catastrophic natural disasters, to encountering strangers with unfamiliar ways of acting or thinking. Such external challenges to individuals and society as a whole “can force the reconstruction of behavior and the reanalysis of . . . beliefs,” (p. 233) and may “totally transform or even destroy a culture.” (p. 234)

For Peterson, the challenge of anomalies are key turning points that require the creative daring of a heroic individual, one who will symbolically face the ‘dragon of chaos’ and return with the treasure of wisdom to help re-order society. This ties into a fundamental concept of the book, that human reality divides into the ‘known’ and ‘unknown’, symbolised in myth and religion by the conflicting forces of ‘order’ and ‘chaos’.

Reading through Maps of Meaning, I was often struck by the lack of strictly factual evidence to support its many claims. It offers no room in its conceptual framework for the influence of technology, or for other real world economic factors that have shaped behaviour since the stone age. In addition, philosophers of the ancient and modern worlds are absent as voices to challenge or enlarge the scope of Peterson’s theories. Thinkers in the Idealist tradition from Plato to Hegel, as well as modern Existentialists, have all addressed the problems of ‘being’ and how to find meaning in life, without necessarily relying on the assumptions of religious belief.

As far as I can tell, the perspective that Peterson provides is like religion itself—often confusing, and requiring a leap of faith. Maybe a form of ‘mythic thinking’ is actually preferable to pure reason, as he thinks, and can guarantee a more meaningful life full of heroic challenge. But I remain sceptical about his grand narrative, and have too many unanswered questions to let go of my critical consciousness at this point in time.

Social Values

In the second half of the book, Peterson continues to explore the formation of values, stating that value-laden philosophical concepts are abstractions that are still tied to their origins in religious myth: “The value of any particular item or experience is determined by the mythic foundation—upon which the entire society, consciously and unconsciously, rests.” (p. 267)

There is a slight nod to cultural diversity, as well, when he admits that cultural assumptions can differ—at least at “conscious” levels—and that “every culture represents an idiosyncratic paradigm.” (p. 249)

Yet across cultures and throughout history, Peterson sees the same pattern in which a disruptive ‘hero’ figure is needed to prevent society from stagnating and bring a renewal of the moral framework. In his words, these are the “creative individuals” who “destroy old values and threaten with chaos, but they also bear light and the promise of better things . . . Such reintegration and resurrection is in essence the metamorphosis of individual, and then cultural, moral presumption.” And like a “revolutionary savior” who “redeems and rekindles the cosmos,” they are “feared and hated and desired and worshiped by every human individual and by human society in general.” (p. 278)

Jesus the Hero

As these quotes show, the book turns towards a more explicitly religious framework, with a free use of Christian symbolism. Jesus is seen as the archetypal hero figure, one whose presence remains in our Western understanding of individuality as intrinsically valuable or ‘divine’, and in our understanding of renewal as a form of spiritual redemption. From the heroic ‘son of God’ who believes in redemption, Peterson then considers his adversary or ‘hostile brother’, taking a deep excursion into the manifestation of evil in both myth and history.

In the figure of Satan, Peterson sees a symbol of prideful rationality and the voluntary rejection of faith in the goodness of life. Over a number of pages, he draws at length from the harrowing concentration camp testimonies of both Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn and Viktor Frankl. These provide clear lessons about the dehumanising effect of ideology, and the temptation to avoid responsibility. Even in such impossible circumstances, there is the chance for redemption through any number of meaningful moral choices.

As an academic text, Maps of Meaning avoids outright evangelical statements of belief, preferring to wear the mantle of objectivity. Throughout the book, Peterson frequently uses the Christian concept of the Word or Logos, as a handy equivalent for a range of related concepts. The Word is the ‘eternal knower’ or the process of mediating between the unknown and the known, the creative individual, the mythic hero, and generally anything that creates order and redeems or renews.

It would be easy to assume Peterson is asserting his own faith in the transcendent reality of Logos as Christ, yet this would be wrong on the face of things. In fact, he distances himself, referring to the Word as part of Christian ‘tradition’ and ‘doctrine’. At one point he explicitly uses an anthropological framework, referring to “the mythic Word of God” and “Christ, the Christian culture-hero.” (p. 135)

Mythic vs. Metaphysical Truth

Since his first book, Peterson has blurred the lines between mythic and metaphysical truth. This can be seen in a recent discussion with Dr Richard Dawkins, the famous scientist and atheist. Asked by Dawkins “Was Jesus born of a virgin?” Peterson almost petulantly replies, “I think that it’s inappropriate to use a question like that to attempt to undermine the validity of the entire deep mythological enterprise; it’s foolish.” (Dawkins vs Peterson: Memes & Archetypes, YouTube, posted Oct 22, 2024). By implication, the validity of the Christian story is a deeper metaphysical truth than any empirical statement can hope to represent.

It seems to me that Peterson’s whole project is a kind of meditation on symbols—searching for evidence of the divine in the world of meaning. This is a modern version of the alchemical tradition, which he spends 50 pages exploring in depth at the end of Maps of Meaning. Alchemy was a real subject of interest over many centuries, that fed into the scientific endeavour, and its emphasis on transformation contained a wealth of symbolic and archetypal material, as pointed out by the great psychotherapist Carl Jung.

A central idea was that of ‘redeeming’ nature through a process of purification—remembering there was “no clear distinction between psychological and objective.” (p. 422) For instance, the creation of gold out of base matter was analogous to a process of personal spiritual transformation.

Peterson explains the growth of interest in alchemy as a reaction to the limits of Christian theology. While “alchemy was a living myth: the myth of the individual man as redeemer,” he argues that “Organized Christianity had “sterilized itself,” so to speak, by insisting on the worship of some external truth as the means to salvation. (p. 445)

There are many parallels that he draws between alchemy and his own model of psychological–spiritual growth. They are both based on a creative engagement with experience, in which one explores the unknown and moves towards a meaningful synthesis. For Peterson, living at “the mythic level” means accepting a framework of meaning, that ultimately leads to “the highest stage of consciousness yet attained,” one “represented by the savior.” (p. 383)

The goal is personal transformation. In the West, this means not simply “ritualistic worship” of the Christ figure, but “courageous confrontation with the unknown—[which] makes “worship” a matter of true identification.” (p. 369) In a further twist, like a cosmic dragon swallowing his own tail, Peterson sees the goal as “the process by which the goal is to be attained.” As Christians endeavour to imitate Christ, they find themselves becoming “the embodiment of courageous, truthful, individually unique existence.” (p. 398)

The Divinity of Interest

The book’s concluding chapter is an interesting excursus titled The Divinity of Interest, which also sees the return of Peterson’s personal narrative. There is a range of interesting speculation here, as he ties loose ends and draws broader conclusions.

He defines individual interest, or curiosity, as “a spirit calling from outside the “walls” of society,” and praises it as “identification with the hero.” (p. 446) The existence of society itself as a network of interests is something less heroic to consider, but perhaps equally important. Instead, Peterson extols a view of the individual popular in the self-help genre: “Quit lying to yourself, and do what your heart tells you to do.” (p. 447)

Further on in the chapter he gives a description of individual responsibility, that is somewhat similar to the Existentialist philosophy of Jean-Paul Sartre: “We have been granted the capacity to voluntarily bear the terrible weight of our mortality. We turn from that capacity and degrade ourselves because we are afraid of responsibility.” (p. 454) For Sartre, we experience anguish because we are ‘condemned to be free’ and must take responsibility for the meaning of our own lives. The avoidance of responsibility is called ‘bad faith’ by Sartre, and ‘the lie’ by Peterson.

However, Peterson also warns against the “denial of individual divinity,” (p. 480) and he would consider the Humanism of Sartre as prey to forms of dangerous ideology or nihilism. In fact, he clearly states his beliefs in this chapter: “Things have no meaning . . . for those who do not believe in good and evil.” “The truth seems painfully simple . . . Love God, with all thy mind, and all thy acts, and all thy heart.” (p. 455)

The Transformation of Jordan Peterson

In the course of this book we see the transformation of Jordan Peterson himself, from a psychologist carefully analysing the patterns of narrative—to a man professing his personal faith in those patterns, as manifestations of living truths. The final page of Maps of Meaning is a long quote from the non-canonical Gospel of Thomas, presenting the “secret sayings which the living Jesus spoke.”

Like Peterson, the lost Gnostic tradition perceives the Logos as a universal principle guiding self-knowledge towards divinity, in a quasi-mystical manner: “When you come to know yourselves, then you will become known, and you will realize that it is you who are the sons of the living father.” (p. 469)

Maps of Meaning, as a whole, is an amalgam of bold assertions from different disciplines, melded together over many years by a relatively young thinker. Its youthful intensity of purpose makes up in part for its baroque terminology. It is a ragged atlas of the human experience, with its compass pointing towards the divine in humanity. Neither psychology nor theology, it is an unusual hybrid of both that contains the DNA of Peterson’s ongoing worldview. A man on a mission to unsettle and inspire others, Jordan Peterson maintains a heroic belief that people in the secular West can learn from the past, before its valuable lessons are lost forever.

All page citations refer to Jordan B. Peterson’s “Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief” (Routledge, London, 1999). Dr Jordan Peterson’s latest book is “We Who Wrestle With God: Perceptions of the Divine“, published in Australia by Allen Lane/Penguin Books.