As an observer of human nature, I’m probably most proud of my creation of my personality framework, the Four Tendencies. My framework divides people into Upholders, Questioners, Obligers, and Rebels. (Want to know your Tendency? Take the free quick quiz here.)

When I was groping my way toward an understanding of the Four Tendencies, my key observation was that we all face outer expectations (like a work deadline) and inner expectations (like a New Year’s resolution), and depending on whether we meet or resist those expectations, we fall into one of those four categories.

Ever since I created the framework, I’ve been on the hunt for good examples of the Four Tendencies—in memoirs, in novels, in TV shows, and particularly in life.

Sometimes I try to figure out the Tendency of a famous person. It’s not always possible to tell, because we can’t necessarily judge someone’s Tendency from what they do; we have to know how they think. But for some people, it is possible to determine their Tendency, because we have a sufficient record of their thoughts and responses.

It took me a long time to decide on Steve Jobs’s Tendency. Was he a Questioner who tipped toward Rebel, or a Rebel who tipped toward Questioner? After a lot of study, I realized that he’s a QUESTIONER/Rebel.

One key thing to understand about Questioners is that if you want to persuade or inspire them, you have to give them reasons. They want answers. And if you don’t have an answer to their question, you must nevertheless engage thoughtfully with the question; you must show the Questioner that you respect their questions. Answers like “We’ve always done it this way” or “That’s the rule” or “I’m the boss” won’t satisfy.

I often think of a poignant story I heard from a Questioner friend. As a child, he loved playing on a youth soccer team—until a new coach arrived. After that new coach assigned the whole team to do a series of drills, my friend went to him and said, “Those drills might work for the other guys, but I play goalie. Shouldn’t I do some different drills?” The coach said, “I’m the coach, and on my team, everyone does the same drills.” So my friend quit. This answer didn’t make sense to him. He ended up dropping out of soccer forever. 

I wonder what would have happened if that coach had said, “These drills build all-around athleticism, and that’s key for a great goalie. Besides, you may not always play goalie. These drills will serve you well in any position.” I think my friend would have kept playing. He just needed someone to explain the reasons—or at least grapple seriously with the question being raised.

In Walter Isaacson’s celebrated biography, Steve Jobs, he tells a similar story about the legendary entrepreneur and inventor Steve Jobs. When Jobs was growing up, his family attended the Lutheran church, but Jobs stopped going when he was thirteen years old.

Isaacson recounts what happened: 

In July 1968 Life magazine published a shocking cover showing a pair of starving children in Biafra. Jobs took it to Sunday school and confronted the church’s pastor. “If I raise my finger, will God know which one I’m going to raise even before I do it?”

The pastor answered, “Yes, God knows everything.”

Jobs then pulled out the Life cover and asked, “Well, does God know about this and what’s going to happen to those children?”

“Steve, I know you don’t understand, but yes, God knows about that.”

In other words, the boy Steve Jobs was asking: Why would a loving, omnipotent God permit the innocent to suffer so much pain and injustice?

This is surely one of the most profound and mysterious questions of faith, but he was told, “Don’t worry about it, you don’t need to understand, take my word for it.” For many people, that wouldn’t be a sufficient answer, and certainly not for a Questioner.

After that answer, Jobs never returned to church. 

Big questions require big answers, particularly when a Questioner is asking.