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: 3w4 so/sx

Hammond has a desperate need to impress everyone, at every turn of the way – he puts himself front and center in all the promotion, and has a speaking part in the tour (knowing it will encourage people to look at and interact with him). He uses money to impress people with, and even when disheartened, talks about his dream and how he “spared no expense” to get the best ice cream for the park. He is ambitious and driven, but also wants to impress others. He struggles to grasp his own feelings at times; eating ice cream and thinking how “next time” the opening will be better, rather than facing his anguish at knowing his grandkids are out there somewhere being chased by dinosaurs. It takes a colossal failure and people being killed for him to stop putting a shine on everything and admit that it has all been a catastrophic failure. Hammond’s 4 wing is all about being different from other people – taking an idea like a dinosaur park and making it a reality, then emphasizing that it’s not a common theme park, or a huge money maker, but something genuinely special and real. It tears him apart when it doesn’t work.