We’re all doing great. Excellent, even! If worse comes to worse, we’re doing pretty decent. That’s the disease of the Western hemisphere. You can (and probably will) call me cynical, but think about it – unless you’re a shrink, when is the last time that you heard someone tell you that he or she is feeling utterly and totally shattered, gutted, depressed or otherwise uncomfortable? Honestly, I can’t recall, at least not in a formal, semi-professional setting. It must be because I’m surrounded by fortunate, successful people. It could also be that appearing feeble is a liability and hugely stigmatizing. That’s funny because feeling sorry and compassionate is such a popular pastime. So many good causes to support, so many fundraisers to attend, so many nonprofits to donate to. Being the target of compassion though, God forbid.
There are some pretty interesting nuances in how this is being handled, though. For some individuals, doing great is the default response to any question directed at them. It’s an unreflected automatism that saves them a lot of trouble by scotching probing follow-on questions. Others are well practiced in displaying their greatness but have to make an effort to get it across. It’s more intentional, a bit forced and thus, well, more fake. There’s also an interesting cultural dimension to this, at least in my observation: while in the US, enthusiastic assertions of well-being appear very natural, people are just as ready to admit personal issues (financial, physical, emotional or otherwise), especially if they’re getting professional help for resolving them. That makes a lot of sense: if problems are outsourced, it’s totally legitimate to feel great the rest of the time. On this side of the pond, people are more sheepish and inhibited about this stuff. Keep up appearances, protect your privacy and work it out yourself unless there’s absolutely no other way.
Whatever the underlying reasons and mechanisms may be, they don’t explain why the feel-good attitude has become a cultural imperative. Not only is it a must to feel great and to say so, it’s also a natural reflex to buy into it. My simplistic assumption is that greatness appeals to a deeply engrained superiority complex that is fairly prevalent in these parts. And since it’s all about perception, you don’t even have to feel that great in order to project an air of aplomb. Once you recognize its effect on others, it will materialize by itself.
This is not an invitation to whine and moan in front of others. But it’s kind of odd that admitting weakness, let alone human drama, is marginalized to the extent it is. It almost seems that the dramatic stuff is meant for the movies. No wonder that relatively minor altercations at home or at work are often more unsettling than the actual mayhem that’s happening elsewhere but is only perceived through the web browser or TV screen. There must be something about the veneer of perceived civility, poise and control that is comforting. That said, feeling not so great is pretty common. So why pretend it’s a statistical outlier. If nothing else, commiserating can be rather soothing too.