I've been mulling over a distinction in the archetypal that I think is related to one you are making above...namely that there are the inner characters we encounter who bring to us in the form of interpersonal relationships the archetypal and there are non-personified motifs that are recurrent and so, potentially to be seen as part of the archetypal realm albeit with less of a sense of living animation. You also seem to want to cut out the non-personified motifs as not being as archetypal if I get your meaning above.
I think that this is probably an important intuitional difference between us, namely, I don't have a problem with the non-personifiable as also archetypal. In fact, I could almost swing the other way and say that the personified is less archetypal and more a matter of "energics".
It's just a semantic difference . . . but I think I am making my distinctions based on my sense of "poet's logic" or "rhetorical craft logic". That is, what are the first things that come to mind for any Jungian or quasi-Jungian when we hear the term "archetype"? Anima, animus, shadow, hero, Self, wise old wo/man, Mother/Father, Child, etc. Every single one a personage. And so, it seems to me that the connotation of archetype (as conventionally used) implies personage. This is how the term began (with Jung) and how it was used for decades. Only more recently have some writers (like Anthony Stevens, I think) proposed that the term could be applied to cognitive structures and processes and tendencies that are not really personifiable.
Who (I'm just walking through my reasoning here . . .) does the term archetype "belong to"? I feel it belongs most to the Jungian tradition (in which it connotes personage). When we apply it to more aspects of cognitive structure (or only to those structural aspects), we run up against the problem that (as you mention) cognitive science and other fields have already offered up some terms for these structures. I'm wondering if archetype is really a better term for these things than the neuroscience and cognitive science terms. For the (very brief) sake of argument, let's say it actually is a better term. Well, tough titty, because cognitive science is a relative silverback to Jungianism's excommunicated runt gorilla. How long do we persist in clinging to our "archaic" terms while the world spins along without us (well, if history is any indication, we might go on doing this indefinitely)?
But, in my opinion, all that is (thankfully) moot, because the term "archetype" is really not as good as the cognitive science terms that connote structure. Archetype is clearly an abstract, categorical term:
ORIGIN Greek arkhetupon, from arkhe- ‘first, founding, primitive’ + tupos ‘a model’.
This connotation would not be permissible in the any modern field of neuroscience where positivism reigns. That's why I think newer terminology (that connotes structure, especially structural elements of a complex system) should be accepted or introduced to signify the structure of the psyche (that is largely unconscious).
Making any attempt to peel away the term archetype from the personages Jung characterized it with would also confound our still fledgling attempt to recognize instinctual energics (as you say) behind the Will or intentionality of these personages.
Why then appropriate a functional (if perhaps somewhat archaic) term and detach it more from what it originally (in Jungianism) signified? That seems inefficient to me. Of course, all of this reasoning is arbitrary . . . but it still viably argues for a definition of the term archetype that nails it down to instinct and to the psychic phenomena of compelling and numinous personages. Ooh . . . and one more thing comes to mind

. . . we know quite a lot about the archetypal personages that Jung and the Jungians have focused most of their attention on. They are well documented and their appearances in human texts of all kinds are abundant. But we don't know very much about cognitive structures yet (regardless of materialistic feelings of superiority over the "soft sciences"). Why take a signifier away from something we know well and can identify immediately and reattach it to something that we are just getting the preliminary outlines of? Chances are very high that the sense of cognitive structure in neuroscience will be distinctly different in 20 years from now than it is today.
But archetypal personages, well, they will be just the same

.
Of course all that really matters is that the terms we use actually help us think about the things themselves more effectively . . . which is what a poet's or rhetorician's craft is dedicated to. Scientists think about things, while writers think about language.
In other words, whatsoever motif gets associated to an inner personality is simply caught up in the energics of the ego-complex which is the primary energy "conduit" in the psyche (a.k.a. the necessary river). And when I say ego-complex I mean to carry with that the Self, anima, shadow, etc...the whole suite of possible inner characters as part of the one development of the individual psyche.
The main problem I see with this construct (as I'm sure I've mentioned before) is that the personified archetypes always manifest to the ego
as Other; they behave with Other intentions and act (and seem to think) autonomously. So I quibble with grouping them all under the label "ego-complex". The term is misleading and not efficiently descriptive.
In this sense the complex adaptive system at work is the one that is ordering these inner personalities (not as separate nodes but as different facets of the same initially "rough diamond") but the archetypes are the forms and channels for lidibo that preferentially direct libido into what will eventually take the shape of typological biases and other personal qualities.
I know we also disagree on the role that Jung types play in the psyche and I would say that they are a much more important factor than, perhaps, I have seen anyone treat them outside of the typological community. I believe that it is the case that the functional preferences are almost always an important part of interpreting a dream.
My issue with typology is not that I don't see differences between one personality and another or that I think it impossible to categorize these differences. I'm merely concerned that the Jungian system of typology is 1.) overly reductive, and 2.) not likely to match up accurately with cognitive structures (as those structures become increasingly elucidated by neuroscience). Both components of my concern are related to a discrepancy between
what is and
what we perceive. Nature vs. egoic perception.. When we can detect that Nature deviates from egoic perception on any given thing, following egoic perception over Nature is unscientific.
On the other hand, I think there's a good chance that the functions Jung choose (at least some of them) may correlate pretty well (although by no means perfectly) to certain cognitive modules or modes (albeit not to "personality types") . . . especially intuition and sensation. I feel that thinking and feeling were especially muddied by Jung and are liable (for different reasons) to not be compatible with developing science. My primary concern is that Jung's characterization of thinking and feeling are tainted by both the sexism of his era (and his personal disposition) and the intellectual classicism of Jung's specific (elite, academic, medical) culture.
More pertinent to the topics of this thread, I don't think archetypes are really the main sources for constructing what we see as typological differences between personalities. Archetypes (and again we can see how this connects them to instincts) are
speciesistic and relate to general, universal adaptive behaviors in homo sapiens. Personality type is a more "fine-grained" and individualistic (i.e., reflecting the genetic differences between individuals) differentiator.
You mention dreams as indicative of typological importance . . . so hypothetically, we could say that one might have a dream of a character who seems to represent a different attitude or style of thinking or being than the one we prefer or identify most with. Probably an animi figure or a shadow figure. We could say (in conventional Jungian fashion) that if the ego is a "thinking type", the anima seems to be a "feeling type" . . . and that the attempt to relate to and even somewhat integrate the traits of the anima into the conscious attitude would designate an adaptive or healing movement.
That would be something like the standard or popular Jungian model . . . where the notion of progress or individuation is based on developing more diverse ways of thinking or attitudes toward living. Personal development of consciousness. But I wonder if that paradigm is not too specific to the kind of self-help, New Age "Me generation" we are more or less blindly indoctrinated into today . . . the kind of mindset that sees adaptivity as the cultivation of attitudes or styles of thought. Even in today's modern environment, such personal development is often more of a hobby than an adaptive, survival skill.
The difference in the model I favor is that the anima in this equation is not (on a more discerning level of "is-ness") the harbinger of attitudinal shift or balance (or consciousness development for the sake of consciousness development), but the representation of a compensatory movement of instinct that pushes against an overly rigid egoic attitude that had lost sufficient access to that instinct (and bogged down the functional efficiency of the complex system that is the organism). The anima is the ego's perception of the attractiveness, seductiveness, and valuation of a reinstigation of instinctual flow. The difference is that in this model, typology is an arbitrary factor of a homeostatic self-regulation of the organism's psychic system. I mean, the fact that the ego can call its anima a "feeling type" is ultimately meaningless to the process at hand. The process is dedicated to increasing adaptivity and plasticity in the ego by encouraging it to abide more functionally by instinct. It isn't really dedicated to "cultivating a more holistic attitude" or "developing an inferior intelligence".
I think the archetypal personages are characterized (with a certain amount of uniqueness in each of us) by the qualities of the libido that we are obstructing with our insistence (and usually a great deal of help from social conformity pressures) on a specific egoic rigidity. What is instinctual but cannot flow into the environment due to the way the ego has constructed itself will, in its attractive aspect (that turns the ego on with the promise of new energy and fulfillment), become the animi. Where the ego absolutely refuses to budge, the instinctual flow will seem like the shadow (as either Satan/Opponent or disgraceful/devalued but persistent obstacle). When the ego constructs a little niche of combativeness against its own rigidity or dysfunction, libido will pour into the hero archetype, the Self-aligned aspect of the ego (where the innate blessedness or greatness or divine birthright of the hero is the gift of libido from the Instinctual Self). As the ego constructs some space to imagine the Self as a whole, we get the god image or symbols of complex organization like mandalas (the ego is beginning to recognize that it is merely one organ in a vast living system).
So, to craft an analogy, let's say the Instinctual Self is like the waves of an ocean. The ego is a person at the beach who walks into the water. This person thinks, "The waves are slamming against me!" But the waves extend well beyond the person (who is like a point) in all directions. The waves are not specifically aligned against or directed at the person, but the person can be aligned against the waves. Now for the archetypes . . . they are defined primarily by the perspective (and projection) of the person standing in the waves. The Shadow is the result of the person thinking, "These damn waves are trying to knock me down! What the hell, can't they see I'm standing here?!". Of course, the ego never thinks that it is standing against something else or trying to "hold the waves back". The Anima or Animus is the product of the person thinking, "You know what, I really like the feeling of the waves carrying me into shore!" and imagining the waves as a transporter or pleasure-giver. The Hero, then, would think, "Dude! I have to learn how to surf so I can more fully appreciate these waves!" The Demon of the complex is the voice that whispers to us, "Surfing is a stupid, childish activity. Besides, you're not even any good at it. Why waste your time? You could be doing something much more important . . . like not budging! The waves only knock you down because you are so weak. If you weren't such a fuck-up, you could stand against any wave, no matter how large." The Wise Old Woman or Man might think, "These waves are not merely focused around you, but extend for vast stretches to your left and right, in front of you and in back. The entire ocean is an ecosystem in constant, complex motion . . . and it is all connected to the tidal forces generated by the moon."
When we say something like, "I am a thinking type, and my anima is a feeling type", we are limiting our understanding of the anima to a reductive and fixed perspective . . . one that is based on our own resistances. Thus, the anima is always telling us, "I am not what you think I am, I am much more. You can't define me from your current perspective. To know me (and to love me), you must expand your perspective." The types, in my opinion, exert a very reductive paradigm onto the experience of relationship between ego and instinct. I would even go so far as to posit that the particular reductiveness of the typological paradigm is actually the result of what the paradigm itself would consider a specific typological prejudice (in this case, thinking). That is, to reduce this natural dynamic to a four type system requires a very limited and fixed perspective. That isn't to say that it is therefore "wrong" or that it will only produce illusion. We can still get some useful understanding of the psyche out of this paradigm. But since it is firmly based on ego perspective, there will always be particular limitations to what it can "know" and how well it can know it.
I simply think we have reached a level of general knowledge about human psychology, biology, and neurology that exposes the innate weaknesses of the typological paradigm and renders it no longer helpful as a tool for understanding the psyche
scientifically.
To me the archetypes are the "walls" of the psyche where pure psychic freedom finds itself invisibly directed. We don't see these walls unless we catalogue or otherwise "log" ourselves objectively and see that we think about food 1000 times a day and "peace on earth" (or some such thing) only once a day, but we might remember that day as the day when we thought about "peace on earth" and ignore the fact that we were in line at the soup kitchen most of the time.
I think of the instinctual is more like an inner sensory input that like light or sound provides an energic gradient that we must respond to. The archetypal is what is universal in our responses to the instinctual as it is passed through the sensory. I know that Jung combined the archetypal with the instinctual but I think the two could be separated, especially from a functional standpoint (to start to think like a cognitive scientist here).
This seems to agree with my analogy above. As for Jung, he didn't equate instinct and archetype, but always said things like, "archetype is founded on instinct" or "archetypes accumulate around instinctual drives" [paraphrasing] or something like that. I have made attempts in the past to cement the relationship between instinct and archetype that Jung hinted at, because Jungians have managed to forget much of what such a relationship would imply about the structure and behavior of archetypal personages. That is, Jungians have mythologized the archetypes to be like characters in a story, but they never ask, "But why would such a force have evolved? What adaptive purpose would it serve?" As a result, their myth is too reductive. A Good Fiction should enable us to ask all kinds of dangerous questions (and deduce credible answers).
I would functionally separate (and map onto the perceptual functions) as follows:
sensation: external and internal sensory input which in its volume and constancy probably creates a kind of tidal effect on the psyche. This tide ebbs and surges with the night and day cycle. The forms (sometimes referred to as qualia) of sensation provide an arbitrary kind of "spectral analysis" of otherwise continuous and undifferentiated stimuli.
instinct: habituated internal sensory input that has an apparent intentionality which generally is supportive of the survival of the individual or the species; an urge or desire or goal that is directed to a known or unknown end
intuition: like sensation it is a perception, an irrational (not systematically relational) truth, which is not actively funded by sensory input but by the invisible walls of psychic design. Intuition includes metaphorical and non-linguistic cognitive apprehensions. Intuitions require translation into the other functions (sensation, thinking, feeling) to gain truth-value. But comparative analysis of intuitions reveals the universal patterns that guide them.
See, you didn't find a place for thinking and feeling either

. I don't have any strong disagreements with any of this . . . but I would quibble with your construction of intuition, because your characterization seems to me to be less of a cognitive (neurological) structure or mode. E.g., "an irrational truth". I think intuition can, alternatively, be seen as a very practical function that helps the psyche perceive complex relationships as wholes. It could relate to the stuff I posted in the other thread about Confabulation Theory. Intuition takes a collection of parts and constructs a whole, filling in the missing pieces. It is a pattern recognizer. Not "irrational", but perhaps not always accurate, because it confabulates or predicts pieces of the pattern that are missing (although it confabulates logically or within a certain arbitrary but logical parameters). Intuition extrapolates, but it doesn't bother to "fact-check" or make sure all the pieces in the pattern it constructs are verifiable. Our intuition might provide a perfectly viable construction of a potential thing or event . . . but reality may turn out to be entirely different (because some complex things are very hard to predict or reconstruct with guesswork).
I worry that there is a tendency in Jungianism that muddles the understanding of intuition. Namely, intuition is conflated far too often with "belief" and a willingness to believe in supernatural or metaphysical things. I don't really think this kind of thing is an example of "intuition at its most expansive" (as many believers would have it). My guess is that it is much more likely that such "intuitions" are the products of an egoic position that greatly devalues "the real" (or, we could say, the sensation function). So instead of bothering with the problematic technicalities of realness, it over-constructs paradigms based on projection. At its most extreme, this becomes animism (which is fairly common in Jungian thinking). So the definition of the "intuitive type" in many Jungian circles is very close to "the animistic believer". And therefore has nothing to do with the real aptitude of intuitive intelligence. Intuition (as a kind of cognitive muscle) can't be measured by how much it can believe in that can't in any way be verified by either the senses or by logic . . . but by its accuracy in prediction and construction (confabulation). Therefore, when we characterize a "strong intuitive", we should think of someone like Jung himself who was not one to ignore the quanta (or qualia, as you say), when available, that an intuitive pattern is pieced together from. He was very dedicated to collecting as much relevant data as he could find . . . and he used this data very skillfully. The strength of an intuition is, I think, more a matter of how many (perhaps seemingly unrelated) quanta can be pulled together into a relational pattern that makes sense as a whole. I.e., how functional at predicting or constructing the real is the intuitive paradigm or construction? In that loose definition, intuition is not "irrational", but a functional cognitive tool that would understandably have been selected during human evolution.
The Jungians who so frequently fall under the category "intuitive types" are often not very skilled intuitives at all . . . a sad irony to this favored Jungian typology.