Reslience Shaming: Professionalism is Not Measured by Psychological Assault
It all starts with that familiar bugaboo: Imposter Syndrome. Your inner conversation transitions from “They don’t need me” to “They know they don’t need me” and devolves from there.
Artificial Intelligence.
Fear: I have become “redundant.” Everything I’ve ever done has led me to this…obsolescence. I might as well sell buggy whips and telephone dials. My job will be gone in 10 years. In 5 years. Tomorrow.
Forbes published a story that recounted the results of a recent Gallup and Northeastern University online survey of 4,394 Americans, 3,049 Canadians and 3,208 U.K. adults. The poll revealed that “Seven in ten Americans, six in ten Canadians, and six in ten U.K. residents believe the advent of artificial intelligence will eliminate more jobs than it creates.”
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Reaction #1: I’ll lose my job. I’ll never get a new one. The workforce is going to shrink by 50% or more. I only believe that which will likely kill me.
PTSD Reaction #2: They won’t get me. I’ll go down guns blazing.
Victimhood.
Fear: “Those people” are stronger than I am. Look at the news — I don’t have a chance. I mean, I suppose have a few people, too, but look at us. We’re the victims of a society that hates us.
“The recent emergence of a ‘victimhood culture,’ according to Campbell and Manning, is something quite new for society: it borrows the touchiness to perceived offense from honor culture but retains the appeal to a higher power (for example, university authorities) that is characteristic of ‘dignity culture’ [which holds that all people are of the same essential worth]. Its participants gain social status by emphasizing victimhood, although only from within groups that are historically viewed as oppressed: white males are not included.
“The authors argue that some less well-off white men — openly despised by the ideology of the Left, yet devoid of economic privilege — may well drift towards an angry, right-wing ‘victim story’ of their own: ‘it therefore seems likely that the influence of white identity politics is growing and may continue to grow for some time.’” — Jenny McCartney, UnHerd, quoting The Rise of Victimhood Culture: Microaggressions, Safe Spaces and the New Culture Wars, by US sociologists Bradley Campbell and Jason Manning.
PTSD Reaction #1: Everyone hates me. I don’t have any power to change that. I can’t take it anymore. That candidate is not my favorite, but I’ll vote for them because they’ll do the right thing and protect me. And besides, who would listen to me anyway?
PTSD Reaction #2: They won’t get me. I’ll go down guns blazing.
COVID-19.
Fear: I’m going to catch a virus that will kill me. But to protect myself, I can’t be employed and earn any money. I already have been living paycheck to paycheck. I owe so much money on my credit cards, but it’s not from extravagance. I needed all that stuff. I deserved all that stuff. Well, maybe not deserved per se, but that stuff proved to other people that I’m as good as they are, didn’t it? Now I’m going to be homeless. Going forward do I need money and stuff more than I need to live and not infect other people? Everyone else is handling this just fine. What will other people think about me?
The “T” in PTSD stands for “Traumatic.” Trauma surrounding COVID-19 is not limited to healthcare workers and patients. Their trauma is manifest; they see the physical effects of the virus, they feel the pain and panic associated with not being able to breathe, and they are witnessing the worst plague in our lifetimes — even worse than AIDS in many ways.
Approximately 1.1 million people in the U.S. are living with HIV today. About 14% of them (1 in 7) don’t know it and need testing.
Approximately 2.8 million people in the U.S. have officially contracted COVID-19. We have no idea how many millions of others don’t know it and need testing, but if we use the HIV figures as a guide (adding 14%), the number is likely more like 3.2 million. Only 706,000 have recovered.
Over the last 40 years, about 700,000 people have died from Stage 3 HIV (aka “Full-Blown AIDS”).
In the last 6 months, 121,000 people that we know of have died from COVID-19. The CDC issued a statement that these numbers are likely underreported.
Scary stuff, especially with the second wave already started. Major League Baseball (MLB), even in the midst of nasty union negotiations, have already reported dozens of infections among its team staff members and players, causing it to announce on June 20, 2020 that it will shut down and disinfect all 30 teams’ Spring Training facilities in Florida and Arizona. The Tulsa republican presidential rally on June 20 is happening in the middle of a massive spike in cases:
And, with few people wearing masks at this unnecessary event, which has already caused at least 6 staffers to become infected, you can bet the farm that the case number on July 4 (exactly 2 weeks hence) will be through the roof.
Well, maybe not through the roof. The event was poorly attended.
Still, the fire marshal for the 19,100-seat arena said there were 6,200 people in there, the vast majority not wearing masks. And while the outdoor “overflow” event never happened because there was no actual overflow, there will still be a notable spike.
Scary stuff, indeed. Traumatic, to be sure — even for those not in healthcare.
So, what happens when an entire population becomes justifiably traumatized?
This is where “Resilience Shaming” becomes such a dangerous weapon against humanity. Dr. Elyssa Barbash, a therapist who specializes in trauma and its aftereffects, wrote some thoughts about COVID-19 PTSD in Psychology Today:
“Talk about what you are experiencing. Talk about your thoughts and emotions. Processing what you are experiencing, thinking, and feeling seems to be a protective factor for not advancing to PTSD.
“What you should not do: avoid. This means do not try to ‘forget about’ or ignore your thoughts and emotions. Do not numb or self-medicate them away. Do not minimize what you are going through.
“If that is the case, the answer is working with a trained, experienced, and licensed trauma specialist. …Trauma psychology is a niche, or specialized, area of mental health treatment.”
But that kind of treatment assumes a lot of things. It assumes that you are self-aware enough to do these kinds of things. It assumes that you believe something is wrong. It assumes that you can afford these kinds of options. It assumes that you are just trying to regroup to the “Self-Actualization” tip of the Maslow pyramid.
In other words, it assumes you are a privileged person who has the luxury to spend time to deal with emotional trauma. Privilege has its privileges, after all.
On the ground, it may mean this:
PTSD Reaction #1: I’m fine. I’m not traumatized at all. “Traumatized” — give me a break. People who say they’re traumatized are just weak. They don’t have the same resilience I do. I guess I’m supposed to feel sorry for them, but come on. I’m exhausted after a day’s work, too, but do you see me complaining? People who can’t pick themselves up by their bootstraps and get on with it are just lazy. They’re pathetic. I’m free to do whatever I want because I’m in charge. I’m strong. I’m right. If it were up to me, I’d fire anyone who can’t handle their day-to-day work life because their home lives are getting in the way. That’s called “professionalism.” Anything else is spinelessness for snowflakes.
PTSD Reaction #2: I am paralyzed by fear of the unknown. I don’t do well with uncertainty. My heart beats rapidly every day, and with all the pressure they’re putting on me to achieve — despite all data showing that results will just not be what they want them to be in the wake of a pandemic — I can’t sleep, I’m yelling at my kids, and I’m failing to do simple tasks at work. I’m exhausted all the time from all the noise in my head. But I deserve this: if I can’t do my work, they’ll fire me, and everything will be worse. I have to figure out how to leave my home life at home. But I can’t. I worry about my kids going back to school in September. I worry about my bank account being shot to hell. I worry about food and shelter. I worry that the people at work will think I’m weak. But if they try to fire me, you can be sure that I’ll go down guns blazing, because that might be the only way out of all of this.
“Resilience Shaming” is real. The world is made better by those who are both extroverted and introverted. People do not react to the same stimuli in the same way, otherwise we wouldn’t have scientific studies discuss “trends” instead of “absolutes.” There is no good way to react to psychological trauma. As Dr. Barbash wrote in that same article:
“While traumatic events are incredibly stressful and shocking, they become [psychological] ‘trauma’ when a person’s ability to cope is compromised. …Psychological trauma often relies on a person’s subjective experience of an event, and to what extent they believe their life, bodily integrity, or psychological well-being was threatened. People who experience [psychological] trauma may react with intense fear, horror, numbness, or helplessness.”
Even in 2020, some kids are taught that crying is unmanly and unjustifiable; hitting, in direct contrast, while not acceptable, is justifiable. That just does not wash for anyone anymore.
Emotionally beating up people because they are experiencing trauma does not make the assault any less acceptable than a belt to the chops. If you see someone being mistreated — not merely scolded, but treated as though they were stupid, weak, overly vulnerable, or spineless — do not mistake the action as one of “professionalism.” Inflicting shame or pain is neither professional nor effective to any business. Resilience Shaming is an act of psychological assault, especially in the wake of this virus’ already-powerful acts of psychological assault.
And tell someone quickly before it becomes accepted company culture. Because when someone’s resilience is shamed beyond a certain point, there is every chance that they could snap. Guns blazing.
And you don’t want to be hunkered down under your desk hiding from that.
