http://www.psychologicalscience.org/index.php/news/ripped/boehners-tears-the-psychology-of-crying.htmlJohn Boehner cries a lot. The incoming Speaker of the House tears up when he thinks about the American Dream, and
his own rise from humble roots. He gets watery when he sees little kids on the playground, and he even sobs during
floor debate on complex legislation. According to New York Times columnist Gail Collins, the Ohio lawmaker wept while
making a speech in favor of war funding.
Presumably these are "good" cries. And if so, Boehner is certainly not alone in this indulgence. Indeed, people pay big
bucks to sob uncontrollably over "tearjerkers" like Old Yeller, Brian's Song, The Way We Were. Dollar signs don't lie,
and this is a multimillion dollar market. Pass the Kleenex.
But why? What is the psychological appeal of sniffling and watery eyes? Most people will say that crying feels good,
that it's cathartic, but that still doesn't really get at the fundamental question of why. Psychologists are very interested in
this commonest of human behaviors—and in the widely held belief in the therapeutic benefits of a good cry. Does
everyone experience crying this way? How does the mind turn sadness into an uplifting experience? Is there such a
thing as a "bad cry," and if so, what's the difference?
University of South Florida psychologist Jonathan Rottenberg is something of an expert on tears. He and his colleagues have been trying to sort out the crying
experience, both good and bad, and they have some interesting preliminary findings, which they summarized a while back in the journal Current Directions in
Psychological Science. First of all, crying isn't the sure-fire, feel-good tonic it's cracked up to be. The psychologists collected and analyzed detailed accounts of more
than 3000 crying experiences, and found that the benefits of tears depend entirely on the what, where and when of a particular crying episode. Indeed, fully a third of
the criers experience no elevated mood after crying, and one in ten feel worse following a crying spell.
But those who do feel better after crying tend to share certain commonalities that may make their experiences therapeutic: For example, they are more apt to have been
comforted by someone after crying; so they're not crying alone. They are also more likely to see whatever made them cry as fixed. And they are less apt to have been
embarrassed or shamed by the experience. In short, there is tremendous diversity in the experience of crying—and its effects on mood.
Does this mean we romanticize crying when we look back on the experience? Perhaps, or at least the mind detoxifies the memory. For instance, while it's true that a
vast majority of people recall crying episodes as calming relief, these memories don't always jibe with the real-time experience of shedding tears. When the researchers
get people to cry in the lab, using some kind of sad stimulus, the experience is not all relief and soothing. Criers do show calming effects like slower breathing, but they
also experience a lot of unpleasant stress and arousal; their heartbeats go up, and they start to sweat. What's interesting is that the relief appears to last longer than the
arousal. It may in fact come momentarily later and trump the stress reaction, which would account for why people tend to remember mostly the pleasant side of crying.
So do certain people benefit more than others from crying? It's well documented that women cry more and more intensely than men—and as Gail Collins notes, they
are punished more harshly for public tears. In general, public weeping has little to do with being soft. After all, Boehner—even through his tears—is strongly opposed to
extending the safety net for people who can't find a job, and he is committed to dismantling the new health care benefits. Indeed, he's been one of the most vocal
naysayers for the Party of No. Such negativity appears consistent with another robust finding: People with neurotic personalities cry more, but after all the tears are
shed, they're still more negative about life.