The lost art of bottling up our emotions.

last updated 8 January 2015

United Kingdom

Carol Sarler

Whatever happened to the stiff upper lip? asked Carol Sarler in the London Times. These days, it “seems to have been thoroughly supplanted by a quivering lower one.” Last month, Britain was treated to the unedifying spectacle of not one but two grown men publicly admitting that the stress of their desk jobs was just too much to bear. First came Maj. Gen. Andrew Richie, the head of the prestigious Sandhurst military academy, who took early retirement at age 52 because the pressure of overseeing the military education of Princes William and Harry “left him fearing for his health.” Then came union activist John Illingworth, who said he was sick of being “bullied by the government” and would also take early retirement. As Illingworth sobbed on the podium, listeners gave him a standing ovation. But wouldn’t it be more appropriate to applaud toughness rather than timidity? Instead, we have soldiers suing the government for failing to tell them war would be hell, and ambulance workers demanding counseling after attending to wounded traffic victims. “There is something awry when we publicly boast not of what we can handle but of what we cannot, and when it is the tears of the defeated giver-up, rather than the triumphs of the stalwart, that earn the standing ovation.”