Functional Order: Fi-Ne-Si-Te

John Hammond allows his own feelings to override what anyone else is feeling, and is generally clueless about their reactions to him—he enters a trailer without permission, uncorks a bottle of champagne, and lures two paleontologists into coming to his park without batting an eyelash at their early annoyance; he just assumes because he is so delighted with his park, that they will be also. He has a narcissistic tendency to want to be at the center of everything, including insisting on being present for each dinosaur’s birth so that they will imprint on him and see him as their father. When his grandchildren get lost in the park, he retreats into the dining room to eat ice cream and brood alone. He can be indifferent to other people’s problems when they don’t concern him (“I don’t care about your money troubles, Dennis.”). Hammond has brought the past to life through his park, with naïve, childish wonder and delight. He has made a career out of selling people ideas – from flea circuses to become dinosaur parks. He’s quite proud of all the details that went into his park, while being ignorant of their larger implications – like Ellie says, he has extinct poisonous plants growing all over the place without any thought to what might happen as a result. His carelessness with real world realities while focusing on minor details (the best kinds of ice cream, for example) shows how invested he is in executing his ideas, but how impractical they can be in the long term. He uses Te somewhat clumsily; he knows that money makes the world go around, so he bribes Ellie and Grant to come to his park by promising to pay for three years of their future research (all the while, knowing his park has just made their dig irrelevant). When they can’t figure out Dennis’ computer code, he insists they call his “people” in London, and then shut down the system, not realizing that will shut down the raptor enclosure and allow them to escape to further terrorize them all. He is unable to think through the dangerous realities of populating a park with carnivores, and is rude when others dismiss him as impractical (“the only person here who agrees with me is the bloodsucking lawyer!”). He also cares nothing for profit (“This park should not be only for the rich…” he says, while insisting that he has bought the best of everything).

Enneagram: 7w6 so/sx

Hammond shows up at the dig and arrogantly paws through the fridge, takes out a bottle of champagne that doesn’t belong to him, pops it, and then convinces two dinosaur experts to come to his island and see his new park by promising to fund their dig for another three years. He is wildly enthusiastic and unrealistic about the dangers of what he is doing, eager to connect to all his dinosaurs, and to embrace the spectacle which he intends to share with the world. He loves seeing their minds blown and is often watching them react to things. He can be childish in his re-framing, his insistence that he has done nothing wrong, and his refusal to back down from his belief that he has done something good. He adamantly refuses to deal with negativity, and tells off Landry for being a problem (“your money troubles are not my concern”) and bringing down the mood. He likes Ian Malcolm at first, but not after he starts asking serious, probing questions about the safety of his park and the logical consequences of his decisions (and not when he mocks his lack of attractions, when the T-Rex doesn’t show up for her feeding). Only after everything has gone wrong and people start dying does he start to show 6 wing behaviors by becoming concerned for the lives of his employees and particularly his grandchildren. Eventually, the incident causes him to realize that the Park is unsafe and not something to promote to families as he intended; but as Ian points out later, in his eager attempts to avoid making the same mistakes, “he has made entirely new ones,” proving he has not learned nearly a much as he thought from the experience of Jurassic Park.