Manly Tears Highly Rated
American political culture is significantly more emotional than that in Sweden. Certainly, it does occur that our elected representatives sometimes show feelings in public; however, there is a large difference between Maud Olofsson’s quivering lower lip, when a year or two ago, she explained the Centre Party’s reversal on the nuclear power issue, and Republican John Boehner’s repeated fits of crying after the recent congressional election. In his victory speech, Boehner invariably began to cry whenever he talked about his blue-collar upbringing. It gave rise to chiefly positive reactions — oh my goodness, a humane leader!
John Boehner is not just any politician — when he takes over as speaker in the newly elected House of Representatives in January, he will become the U.S.’ third most powerful person. For those who have listened to him before, the flood of tears comes as no surprise. Since Sen. Bob Dole left the stage, Boehner has assumed the role as U.S. politics’ foremost weeper. Boehner cannot talk about anything that touches upon his private life without turning on the waterworks.
One might view this public crying as a form of rhetoric. Boehner is, at best, an ordinary speaker, but by becoming choked up and teary-eyed, he can express feelings he is incapable of conveying in words. Barack Obama, on the other hand, who is a celebrated and brilliant rhetorician has, as far as is known, only on a few occasions become teary-eyed at the lectern.
But there is a difference between crying and crying. When Hillary Clinton’s eyes teared up before the primaries in New Hampshire in 2008, it was seen by many pundits as a sign of desperation, or worse, as a cynical attempt to win votes. Critics wondered how such a sensitive person would be able to cope with being commander-in-chief of the armed forces.
Contrastingly, when her husband, Bill Clinton became teary-eyed — which in his case happened more often as a listener than as a speaker — he was considered to have demonstrated his involvement and compassion.
The attitude toward public crying highlights the lingering gender differences in politics: When powerful men cry publicly, it is often seen as an expression of sympathy, but when a woman with ambition does the same, it’s a sign of weakness.
John Boehner is not just any politician — when he takes over as speaker in the newly elected House of Representatives in January, he will become the U.S.’ third most powerful person. For those who have listened to him before, the flood of tears comes as no surprise. Since Sen. Bob Dole left the stage, Boehner has assumed the role as U.S. politics’ foremost weeper. Boehner cannot talk about anything that touches upon his private life without turning on the waterworks.
One might view this public crying as a form of rhetoric. Boehner is, at best, an ordinary speaker, but by becoming choked up and teary-eyed, he can express feelings he is incapable of conveying in words. Barack Obama, on the other hand, who is a celebrated and brilliant rhetorician has, as far as is known, only on a few occasions become teary-eyed at the lectern.
But there is a difference between crying and crying. When Hillary Clinton’s eyes teared up before the primaries in New Hampshire in 2008, it was seen by many pundits as a sign of desperation, or worse, as a cynical attempt to win votes. Critics wondered how such a sensitive person would be able to cope with being commander-in-chief of the armed forces.
Contrastingly, when her husband, Bill Clinton became teary-eyed — which in his case happened more often as a listener than as a speaker — he was considered to have demonstrated his involvement and compassion.
The attitude toward public crying highlights the lingering gender differences in politics: When powerful men cry publicly, it is often seen as an expression of sympathy, but when a woman with ambition does the same, it’s a sign of weakness.