Let's psychoanalyze the characters of 'The Pitt'

On the core motivations, fears, and flaws of the staff of PTMC

Apr 06, 2026

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When I’m not writing about ’90s rom-coms and Heated Rivalry here, my day job includes recapping this season of The Pitt for The A.V. Club. And it was somewhere around Santos and Langdon’s big fight in “5:00 P.M.” that I realized this is the ideal type of show to analyze through my favorite personality matrix, the Enneagram.

Like astrology or Myers-Briggs, the nine-personality-type system is best understood as a fun way to view the world, rather than something fact-based. But unlike most personality systems, the Enneagram is less about describing how you act and more about describing why you act that way—the core motivations, fears, and flaws that shape you. That makes it an especially interesting prism to analyze fictional characters; particularly on a show like The Pitt, where no one is supposed to be a hero or villain, just flawed people doing their best.

For instance, Dr. Frank Langdon strikes me as a classic Type Three—someone motivated by a deep desire for success. He’s ambitious, charismatic, and really good at his job. Plus he loves motivating other people to be their best selves too, like he so often does with Mel. But it’s also important to him that he’s seen as a good, successful person. Other people’s impressions of him really matter, which is why his various attempts to make amends this season have sometimes felt a touch self-serving. As Patrick Ball put it, “[Langdon] needs to be the best at whatever he does, and that includes recovery.” In season one, Langdon luxuriated in his image as the ER’s golden boy as a way to push aside his insecurity and self-doubt. And though he’s come back humbler this season, he’s still looking for the same kind of external validation to give himself a sense of purpose. Threes are driven by a core fear that if they’re not successful, they have no value. If “everyone loves a winner,” who is Langdon if he’s not winning?

Victoria Javadi is also a Three. Her ambition is what inspired her to finish med school at such a young age and now motivates her TikTok stardom. But, like Langdon, she also thrives on external validation. Part of why she’s so indecisive about which residency to pursue is because she’s trying not to disappoint anyone in her life. Threes can struggle with knowing who they are beyond their achievements. While Javadi has an inherent confidence, she doesn’t have the strongest sense of what she actually wants.

Dr. Trinity Santos, however, has a very strong sense of self and doesn’t really care how she comes across to other people. She’s an Eight, someone who values self-reliance and hates the feeling of being told what to do. Instead of stemming from a selfish place, however, that desire to take charge stems from a sense of protectiveness. An Eight’s core fear is being harmed or controlled by someone and while that gives Santos an anti-authority streak, it also makes her hypervigilant about how others might be mistreated too. It’s what made her so adamant about investigating Langdon’s behavior last season and what makes her such a protector of kids. Eights think of the world as a fight or a competition to win, which is why Santos can come across so aggressive and confrontational. But that “grab-the-bull-by-the-horns” attitude hides a real sense vulnerability too. As Isa Briones explained in a recent interview, Santos brings out anger in Langdon while Langdon brings out the scared child in Santos. Demanding Langdon publicly admit to stealing drugs is a way for Santos to regain a sense of control by putting conditions on his apology, just as turning the conversation to how hard recovery has been is Langdon’s way of maintaining his “good guy” image.

Santos’ behavior is an interesting contrast to Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi, who also doesn’t really care what people think about her and who at first comes across like a bit of a control freak. But, unlike Santos, she’s not actually driven by a desire to control. Al-Hashimi is a One, which means she’s driven by a strong sense of right and wrong and an almost compulsive need to improve the world around her. That can lead her in some slightly impersonal directions, like her love for AI and her focus on “patient passports.” But when faced with new insights and information, Al-Hashimi is the first to adjust her approach. She’s not trying to do things “her” way, she’s trying to do things the best way possible. As she puts it, “Everything I’ve done in my career is an effort to improve the system. Just because it’s broken doesn’t mean you stop trying.” Her focus is constantly on the greater good and she applies her high standards to herself as much as everyone around her. At her worst, she’s prone to repressing her emotions to get her job done. But at her best, she can be warm and playful too—like when she jumps in on the betting grid. She just needs to feel comfortable in her environment for that part of her to come out.

While Ones want to make the world a better place in a big picture way, Twos are “helpers” in a much more interpersonal sense. They’re driven by a deep need to take care of other people. That’s very much true of Dr. Mel King—who in the middle of working a mass casualty event asked if she could donate blood too. The fundamental flaw of Twos, however, is that they think love is something that has to be earned; that if they aren’t actively helping people, they aren’t worthy of being helped themselves. We’ve seen a lot of that with Mel this season. She’s defined her identity around the idea of being of service to her patients and a caretaker to her sister. But when a lawsuit challenges the former and her sister’s growing independence challenges the latter, Mel spirals. Twos self-sacrifice with the subconscious expectation that others will do the same for them and grow resentful when they don’t.

As I mentioned, however, the Enneagram isn’t just about outward personality traits. While Mel is introverted and quirky, Nurse Dana Evans is boisterous and maternal—yet she’s also a Two, someone who feels her best when she’s going out of her way to help other people. As she explains in season one, “I like taking care of everyone, especially the ones who fall through the cracks. They got nowhere else to go.” But, as with Mel looking after her sister, Dana’s desire to help can almost start to become obsessive. Last season, she finished her shift even after getting punched in the face. This season, she would always rather be the one to suffer so a member of her nursing team doesn’t have to. There are times Dana is so focused on meeting other people’s emotional needs, she forgets to acknowledge her own. And when her efforts are underappreciated—whether by management that underpays its staff or cops who ignore rape kits—she’s quick to snap at the imbalance. Her deep care hides deep struggles.

While Dana and Mel are empathetic in one way, we see a different form of empathy from Dr. Cassie McKay, who’s equally caring but channels her energy in another direction. She’s a Nine—driven by a deep desire for harmony and balance and capable of seeing all sides of an issue. The philosophy she imparts to Javadi in season one is that doctors need to put themselves in the shoes of their patients in order to truly help them. McKay takes a gentle, non-judgemental approach to understanding other people’s emotional needs, as we see with her terminal patient Roxie and her unhoused patient Kiki. But while she has a tendency to try to find silver linings where she can, she’s not a pushover. Though unhealthy Nines can withdraw or numb out to escape negative emotions, McKay’s experience with addiction and recovery means she’s one of the most self-actualized characters on the show. She’s not the type to get into a big shouting match, but she’s not afraid to bring up her concerns about the “incel kid” in season one or Robby’s dangerous motorcycle trip in season two. Though McKay believes everyone “deserves a little grace,” she also trusts her gut about where to speak up and how.

While McKay’s superpower is empathy, Dr. Samira Mohan’s superpower comes from her attention to detail and her willingness to listen. She’s a Type Five, someone who’s always trying to learn. She’s doesn’t just accept things as they are, she wants to understand why—and challenge conventional doctrines where they’re wrong. In season one, Samira notes that her approach to medicine is both data-driven and rooted in actually talking to her patients about their lives. But where Dana and McKay try to make genuine emotional connections with their patients, Samira’s empathy is a little more analytical. She’s a researcher and investigator as much as a caretaker. In fact, Samira is slightly detached from the real world; it’s easier to live life in her head than in reality. She focuses on what she’s good at (medicine) and pushes off what she’s not (her personal life). At her best, her depth of knowledge fuels her self-confidence, as it does during the mass casualty event in season one. At her worst, however, she can become so engrossed in theoreticals she feels frozen and lost. Though Samira isn’t the type to be influenced by others or seek external validation, she can still get overwhelmed trying to think through the consequence of every choice and every path not taken.

That’s a sharp contrast to Dr. Jack Abbot, who’s all about trying to live in the world and never in his head. He’s a Type Seven—someone who constantly seeks out new experiences and new distractions to avoid negative feelings. He’ll even go so far as to join a SWAT Team just so he’s not left alone with his thoughts for too long. Sevens are spontaneous, adventurous, and impulsive; afraid of feeling unfulfilled or trapped. But while Abbot may not like to sit still, he also has a sense of hard-won optimism that helps buoy the ER.

Then there’s Dr. “Robby” Robinavitch, probably the hardest character on the show to type. I’ve seen a lot of debate and disagreement over where people place him, but personally I think he’s a Four—the melancholy “tortured poets” of the Enneagram. While the creativity and individuality of Fours is often associated with a career in the arts, in Robby’s case it’s part of what makes him such a great ER doctor; he’s constantly improvising on his feet and shaping the flow of the Pitt like an artist working on canvas. But what really sold me is this description: “Fours feel that they are unlike other human beings, and consequently, that no one can understand them or love them adequately.” Unlike the rest of his staff, Robby think he’s “exempt from ordinary ways of living.” He’s driven by a complicated cocktail of both idealism and melancholy.

Indeed, Fours are very feeling-driven and while Robby tends to shove his own emotions down, he can be quite attuned to what others need. He regularly asks his staff how they’re doing after tough cases and in season one he instinctively understands that a pair of distraught parents need to be eased into the reality that their son is brain dead. The trouble is, his introspective nature means he also tends to nurse past wounds and hold onto old grudges; to give into his negative feelings in a self-absorbed, sometimes cruel way. He has an idealized version of how things should be—how he should be—and he’s frustrated when the real-world doesn’t measure up. Though he won’t admit it out loud, Robby is steeped in self-pity. At some point, that core sense of suffering becomes his defining personality trait and he can’t (or won’t) escape.

Rounding out the ER is Dr. Dennis Whitaker as a Type Six—the glue that holds everything together. Sixes are community builders and troubleshooters who are vigilante about worst-case scenarios and eager to jump in to ensure nothing goes wrong. Where Twos are motivated by a desire to be loved and Nines are motivated by a desire for peace, Sixes are motivated by a desire for security. They want something or someone to guide them, and for Whitaker that’s pretty clearly become Robby. While most characters on The Pitt are charting their own paths, Whitaker has spent most of season two repeating Robby’s teaching methods pretty much verbatim. But if Robby is crumbling, what does that mean for Whitaker’s future? We’ll have to wait and see.

For you Pitt fans, you can read my recaps here:

S2E1 “7:00 A.M.” / S2E2 “8:00 A.M.” / S2E3 “9:00 A.M.” / S2E4 “10:00 A.M.” / S2E5 “11:00 A.M.” / S2E6 “12:00 P.M.” / S2E7 “1:00 P.M.” / S2E8 “2:00 P.M.” / S2E9 “3:00 P.M.” / S2E10 “4:00 P.M.” / S2E11 “5:00 P.M.” / S2E12 “6:00 P.M.” / S2E13 “7:00 P.M.” / S2E14 “8:00 P.M.” / S2E15 “9:00 P.M.”

And for you fellow Enneagram freaks, here’s how I’d type the full cast

Baran Al-Hashimi: 1w2
Mel King: 2w1
Dana Evans: 2w3
Frank Langdon: 3w2
Victoria Javadi: 3w2
James Ogilvie: 3w4
“Robby” Robinavitch: 4w3
Joy Kwon: 5w4
Samira Mohan: 5w6
Dennis Whitaker: 6w7
Jack Abbot: 7w6
Trinity Santos: 8w7
Heather Collins: 9w1
Emma Nolan: 9w1
Cassie McKay: 9w8

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