When ITNJs encounter something absurd, illogical, or blindly followed, we don’t smirk and shrug. We analyze. Then we dismantle it. Then, just for fun, we write a 900-word essay about why it needed to die.
We don’t poke fun. We twist the knife and break it off.
That’s the flavor of INTJ humor. It’s dry. Dark. Surgical. Delivered so calmly and confidently that people often aren’t sure whether we’re joking or issuing a formal condemnation. (Answer: sometimes both.)
We don’t care if a tradition is old. If it’s stupid, we say so. And not delicately. We treat it like a malfunctioning machine – disassemble it, point out the flawed parts, and then deadpan something like: “It’s incredible this hasn’t gotten someone killed yet.”
INTJ humor doesn’t seek approval. It doesn’t ask permission INTJs don’t take jabs. We execute precision strikes.
. It doesn’t soften the blow. It just walks up to sacred cows and starts grilling.
We don’t roast. We instruct.
You’ll know it when you see it:
– “Ah yes, a policy that’s outdated, ineffective, and followed religiously. What could possibly go wrong?”
– “Imagine designing a system specifically to reward mediocrity, then acting surprised when excellence walks away.”
– “This is the intellectual equivalent of setting yourself on fire to protest arson.”
Sometimes it’s so brutally honest, people laugh before they realize we weren’t joking.
Sometimes they laugh… and then they cry.
But that’s why people remember what we say. Not because it’s loud or flashy, but because it’s a scalpel to the soft underbelly of groupthink. It cuts through the noise and leaves a clean wound labeled “truth.”
INTJs don’t entertain. We reveal.
And if it makes you laugh along the way, then great. That’s just a bonus.
Written by Alan D. Modisette
© 2025 Alan D. Modisette/INTJconfidential. All rights reserved.