musingsonwomenshealth.com

Reflections on 40 years as a doctor in Women's Health

Every so often


Every so often, I wonder where I’ve been all these years; I thought I was a capable judge of actions as long as I understood something about their intent, something about their cause, and perhaps more importantly, something about their effect.

I often think of laughter as a fairly reliable index: unless it is mocking or synthesized for effect, it always makes me feel like laughing along. Laughter –real laughter- knows no gender, no tribe, no culture: it knows only joy in the moment; there are no boundaries to curtail it. I suppose there are many varieties of laughter, but if I had to choose, I think I enjoy shared laughter the most; it should not belong to anybody, or any occasion; its unexpected spontaneity frees it from rules; its universal spread makes me think of viruses which care not a whit about escaping from their source.

Smiles  seem different however, and although they often flock to laughter like sheep to a meadow they can be deceptive, manipulative, and even misleading. I don’t know much about smiles, although I usually accept them when they’re offered. I have more trouble with smiles that seem painted on however, smiles that seem more decorative than functional; I’ve learned to look for Duchenne lines: those wrinkles around the eyes that occur with real smiles and are hard to fake. Hard to simply manufacture on demand…

Of course, there are the inward smiles that often appear out of nowhere; I think they are simply the outward signs of thoughts smiling to themselves; they are not meant for others unless they are explained; they are personal smiles. They are frequently seen in bathroom mirrors or plate glass windows of stores that front sidewalks; I, at least, have trouble passing one without smiling at it. I seldom know why I smile at them -maybe it’s just that the mirror-man cheers me up; even strangers on the street smiling at me if our eyes meet does the same.

I’ve never stopped at a storefront window reflection long enough to check for its Duchenne lines -that would look weird- but nonetheless I have to hope that it has them, even if for only a moment: we’re more than strangers after all.

As I’ve said, I don’t get too fussed with one, and, like a gift offered, I accept it with a feeling of communion between me and whoever (or whatever) smiles at me. It just seems the right thing to do. After all, even non-Duchenne smiles are better gifts than scowls or furrowed brows; especially if they’re proffered like a hand to shake: at least it is a form of recognition…

Recently my naïveté was exposed in an essay I came across in theconversation.com[i]. I’ve never really thought much about smiles, any more than I have about the need for handshakes with an introduction, or the type of clothes the person has chosen to wear for an occasion; let’s face it we all have different tastes and opinions, dependent on our upbringing and the strength of our mother’s influence.

Perhaps I take too much at face value (sorry) though. After all, absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, eh? I’m not insulted if someone appears on my screen or on a stage, with a non-Duchenne smile; I have to confess that I’m more concerned with what that Duchenne-less face is saying to me, promising me; if they’re lying, well, I don’t think the lie hinges on their facial expression -or at least I’m usually not observant enough to link the two together. Yes, I remember Hamlet’s comment to the ghost of his father about his murder that ‘One may smile and smile and be a villain’ but I’m not usually that engaged with the smiling speaker -especially if they’re a usually unreliable politician (of either sex) trying to convince me of something.

What did surprise me in the article, however, was that a non-smiling woman politician may be judged differently from a non-smiling man competing with her for our votes. A study of political candidates in France, indicated that ‘a neutral expression reduces voting intentions for all candidates, but that was more pronounced for the female candidates. Not smiling reduces their chances of being selected by approximately three percentage points more than men.’

Also an ‘asymetry [sic] lies with the candidates who don’t smile; a female candidate that doesn’t smile scores about two points less than a non-smiling male politician. For men, smiling adds value. For women, it’s more of a condition to avoid being penalised… Why is the stigma attached to smiling so strongly directed at women? Psychology establishes that gender stereotypes make women into people who are naturally warm, attentive and less likely to be aggressive whereas men are associated with competitiveness, self-assuredness and emotional control… Female candidates face  ‘double trouble’ as women, they are situated on the register of warmth and empathy while as politicians, they must incarnate authority, firmness, which are qualities considered to be masculine. If they display too much heat, they risk being deemed insufficiently credible or less competent… Conversely, if they adopt the codes of seriousness and distance, which are valued in politics, they expose themselves to criticism of coldness, of “stiffness” or of a lack of empathy.’

For men, this conflict is much less marked. ‘The stereotypes associated with them immediately correspond to those related to the exercise of power. This concordance offers them greater emotional freedom. Showing warmth is not considered a transgression, it is simply a mark of accessibility, which does not take anything away from their credibility… Conversely, if a woman meets the expectations of warmth and empathy traditionally associated with femininity, she risks being perceived as less competent… and reveals the norms that are still framing women’s access to positions of power.’

It’s sort of a damned if you do and damned if you don’t situation. I have to confess that I don’t think I’ve ever seen it like that. I mean a politician is a politician, with or without a smile, and without a freeze-frame and screen magnification, it would be hard to verify the absence of Duchenne lines on my phone, or TV. I mean I have trouble reading the instructions on my pill bottles, let alone smile-lines on a face. I depend more on the content of the words coming from their lips, than the expression their handlers thought would carry the crowd -the expression that would seem natural to inspire confidence.

I always feel better if my reflection in the window is smiling at me -it makes me feel that the mirror man is happy with me… and maybe trusts me as well, eh? Of course, I’m not a woman…

[i] https://theconversation.com/female-politicians-can-be-punished-at-the-polls-for-not-smiling-but-men-arent-279011

, ,

gozzter

, ,

Leave a comment