Why Ashutosh cried and the nation laughed
As we all know, emperor Ashoka had once shed copious tears. He had killed thousands in the Kalinga war. And then struck with a lightning bolt of compassion, he had uttered that famous monologue: “What have I done?”. We have all read in our history textbooks how he had become a changed man and eventually the "beloved of the Gods".
On April 24, when AAP leader Ashutosh burst into tears on television over the tragic death of Gajendra Singh at a rally, we heard a similar inconsolable lament: “I was there. I should have said something.” But the nation debated if those were real waterworks or otherwise, intended to make AAP the "beloved of the people" (if not the Gods).
History doesn’t tell us if emperor Ashoka’s tears had irritated his people. But there was something about Ashutosh’s tears that tickled the nation’s funny bone. And hashtag Ashucries started to trend.
Why did Ashu cry and the nation laugh?
Psychologists say, there are three types of tears: tears of pain, tears of joy and something in between, called social or moral tears (if you don’t count crying while chopping onions).
When our Bollywood or cricketing stars cry their hearts out on television, those usually fall in the first two categories: say, being moved by India’s talent on reality TV, before going to jail, when receiving awards or faced with “wild allegations".
Our experience of weeping politicians, though slim, also falls in the first two categories: US President Obama cries often — usually on his campaign trail or to thank his staff. Prime Minister Narendra Modi also choked with emotion last year during a speech, after being chosen the leader of BJP Parliamentary Party.
But Ashutosh’s tears were a bit different. They would have been called “noble and virtuous moral weeping” in Victorian England. But, unfortunately, this is the 21st century. Tears are now a topic of intense scrutiny, scientific as well as cultural. And those studying social reaction to adult tears are likely to call it watch-me-cry tearing.
If Ashutosh doesn’t mind the ribbing, we have nothing to say. In case he does, here are three questions to chew on before he opens up his tear ducts the next time around:
1) Does he know that people find it off-putting when an adult they don’t know closely cries in front of them? Most adults cry at home or in the presence of family and friends. So when a stranger cries, they make observers feel awkward and that often results in pulling away instead of giving support, says American psychologists like Randolph R Cornelius (The Science of Emotion).
2) Does he know that social tears are perceived as an action designed to invite sympathy and not necessarily taken in a positive light by observers? According to a 2008 book by psychologist Jonathan Rottenberg, Cry Me A River: the psychology of crying, it’s an "attachment behaviour" (very much like an infant crying to attract the caregiver). Unfortunately, psychologists also note that a crying adult person is not necessarily perceived positively. For instance, a 1997 study among Australian medical students showed that those who cried during their hospital work were “ridiculed, screamed at, or looked at with contempt by their colleagues”.
3) Does he know that people react negatively to adult male crying because biologically men are not wired to shed tears, unlike women? Research indicates that women have prolactin hormones which aid in tear production (and milk) while men have testosterone, which does the opposite. As a result, a 2011 study in Journal of Research in Personality shows, women cry on an average five times a month, while men just about 1.3 times. Moreover, male tear ducts are way bigger. So, when men cry, they shed buckets. Not always a pretty sight.
Politics of apology and forgiveness can be a potent tool. But it can backfire, too.