Maybe it’s the election cycle; the politicians seem to be taking that whole “bully pulpit” thing literally.
Or maybe it goes back to Alice Roosevelt Longworth who said the quote later attributed to sharp-witted writer Dorothy Parker: “If you can’t say something good about someone, sit right here by me.”
Whatever the origins, it’s no longer cool to be kind. It’s more important to be clever.
Listening to the political ads, you might think that it’s all about survival of the fittest, and being fit means being unkind. Is it instinctive?
You might think so, except for some recent rodent studies.
We all have seen the wordless sympathy dogs can display when we’re down in the dumps or sick. With a soulful gaze and a head on our lap, dogs offer comfort.
But apparently, this instinct for kindness goes all the way down to rodent life.
A recent study at Emory University found that prairie voles would console one another through grooming, especially if they were from the same family. The study looked at the voles’ brain chemistry and found that fellow voles in distress caused the release of the same chemical – oxytocin – that is related to maternal nurturing and social bonding.
So if our more complex brains are similarly hard-wired for compassion, why do so many resort to bullying? Does that feel better than being kind?
They argue that kindness has become our forbidden pleasure.
“In one sense kindness is always hazardous because it is based on a susceptibility to others, a capacity to identify with their pleasures and sufferings. Putting oneself in someone else’s shoes, as the saying goes, can be very uncomfortable. But if the pleasures of kindness — like all the greatest human pleasures — are inherently perilous, they are nonetheless some of the most satisfying we possess.
In giving up on kindness — and especially our own acts of kindness — we deprive ourselves of a pleasure that is fundamental to our sense of well-being.”
I’m not one for self-deprivation. So, at the risk of no longer looking cool, I think I’m going to try a little more kindness. It may not get the laughs at parties, but I’m not sure that kind of laughter is the best medicine anyway.