Implosions, Explosions, and the Fire That Transforms
Reading Mick Jagger Says Leadership Power Struggle Led to Beatles Breakup got me thinking…
Not about leadership, but about the invisible architecture underneath relationships—how inner motivations can mesh or miss, how collaboration can soar or spiral, and how the Enneagram doesn’t just describe people, but reveals what happens when they collide.
This isn’t a story about the Beatles. It’s a story about what happens when Enneatypes collide.
Lennon and McCartney – Authenticity vs. Harmony
If Lennon and McCartney were an implosion, it was a quiet, seismic collapse.
John Lennon, likely a Type 4 with a five wing, moved through the world demanding emotional truth. He had little tolerance for anything that felt artificial or safe.
Paul McCartney, likely a Type 9 with a one wing and strong movement to 3, longed for unity, continuity, and peace—even if it meant smoothing the edges.
One pressed inward, deeper, darker, realer. The other kept the melody going, held the band together, kept the ship moving forward.
They didn’t clash in shouts or boardroom takedowns. They drifted—pulled by different gravitational centers: John toward authenticity at all costs, Paul toward cohesion at all costs.
It wasn’t war. It was entropy. The center couldn’t hold.
Jobs and Sculley – Vision vs. Management
If Lennon and McCartney were an implosion, Steve Jobs and John Sculley were an explosion.
Jobs, a high-octane Type 8 with a seven wing, didn’t manage power—he was power. His energy wasn’t political; it was volcanic. You didn’t negotiate with Jobs—you survived him.
Sculley, likely a Type 3 or a structured 1, came from PepsiCo’s polished order. He wanted process, control, and market positioning.
Jobs tried to wrest back control. The board sided with Sculley. Jobs was ousted from Apple.
But here’s the thing about Type 8s: they don’t fade. They retreat, reform, and return. When Jobs came back, he didn’t just save Apple—he redefined the future.
Martha Stewart – Domination as Protection
Then there’s a third pattern—neither implosion nor explosion—but a fortress.
Martha Stewart, often typed as a Type 8, didn’t burn bridges—she built empires. She was controlling, exacting, and fiercely protective of her brand. When the walls cracked—insider trading, prison time—she didn’t collapse.
Type 8s fear betrayal more than failure. And Stewart, like Jobs, emerged sharper, leaner, and even more unshakable. Her power didn’t come from domination—it came from survival. From never, ever letting anyone else write the final chapter.
So What Really Happens When Enneatypes Collide?
The world sees conflict. The Enneagram considers a system of competing truths:
Lennon’s truth: feel it all—even if it destroys us.
McCartney’s truth: keep it going—even if it means we pretend.
Jobs’ truth: make it real—or burn it down.
Sculley’s truth: make it work—even if it means betrayal.
Stewart’s truth: control it—or be controlled.
These aren’t personality quirks. They’re blueprints. And when those blueprints clash, they create implosions, explosions, or the kind of fire that purifies.
And this is where the work of Enneagram coaches becomes essential—not in avoiding collision, but in helping clients navigate it consciously.
When two worldviews meet—whether in marriage, leadership, or friendship—the job isn’t to fix, flatten, or negotiate a truce. The real task is to help each person see what they’re protecting. What truth are they guarding? What fear lives beneath the surface?
Enneagram coaching becomes the art of translation:
- Helping a Type 9 understand that a Type 4’s emotional intensity isn’t an attack.
- Helping a Type 8 recognize that a Type 1’s restraint isn’t cowardice.
- Helping a Type 3 see that a Type 6’s doubt isn’t sabotage—it’s longing for trust.
When Enneatypes collide, it’s not a failure. It’s an invitation.
Not to win—but to witness.
Not to resolve—but to reveal.
So maybe Mick Jagger was right about the Beatles. But it’s not just leadership. It’s what happens when core needs collide—when the heart wants peace, the soul wants truth, and the will wants control.
And for those willing to stand in that tension without rushing to resolution, every great collapse can become the birthplace of something more whole, more true, and more human.