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Stress

Coping with PSS (Political Stress Syndrome)

Children are not immune when politics turns toxic.

Yes, I know that PSS is found nowhere in the DSM. I just made it up. Yet, lately, I have become more convinced than ever that political stress is real, spreading and finding its way into children’s lives. Regardless of your political views or affiliations, and even if you are an apolitical soul claiming not to have any truck with politics at all, the daily news is inescapable. It is pervasive, seeping into our brains through cable television, radio talk shows, blogs, late-night satire, and above all, the internet. My Facebook feed force feeds me a constant loop of outrage, calls to action and “can-you-believe-this” stories.

Yes, I also know that no one is forcing me to check that feed or other news streams multiple times a day, yet I find myself doing so. Smartphones are addictive, no doubt, but something else is at work. The national political scene, whether you find it appalling or admirable, is riven with chaos, constant drama and uncertainty. We wake up to the scandal du jour, to a revolving door of officials in and suddenly out of government, to the latest in a secretive FBI investigation into corruption and possible treason at the highest levels. The hallmark of our daily political life is uncertainty and unpredictability. Will there be a tariff war with China? (And what will I end up paying at Walmart?) Will the government shut down over the latest showdown? (And will I get my disability check or food stamps or license renewal?) Will there be war with North Korea, or will a new era of peace be suddenly ushered in? Will climate change flood my town, burn down my house, wither my crops?

Our political pundits tell us the Trump administration, led from the top, thrives on chaos. After all, a disrupter was elected president, and from one perspective, chaos and uncertainty can be reframed as radical disruption, razing the ground to later erect a more responsive government. In this view, unpredictable changes are what revolutions are all about. For supporters, a “burn the house down,” "tear up the old system" mentality is exactly what is needed. For others, whether opponents or non-political observers simply watching the daily dramas, chaos, uncertainty and unpredictability lead to feelings of helplessness and in turn, stress.

When there is no way to know what tomorrow might bring, when planning seems futile, when reacting to constant crisis feels exhausting, individuals react in a variety of ways. One is opting out, throwing up one’s hands metaphorically, and pronouncing “a pox on all your houses.” This leads to civic withdrawal, a decline in political participation, including voting, a tuning out to political life. In a democracy that relies on citizen involvement, such a reaction is especially dangerous. It allows special interests, corrupt officials and punitive policies to have their way, often adversely affecting the very people who have tuned out.

Another reaction stems from habituation. When scandals and crises reoccur over and over, the shock gradually diminishes. What first might trigger an outraged response soon devolves into a helpless shrug of the shoulders, “same-old, same-old.” The irony is that when unpredictable crisis is the only thing that can be predicted, habituation steps in to do its work. In this way, citizens of a democracy can become quickly accustomed to behavior and language they earlier would not tolerate. It is common for pundits to talk about the “coarsening” of our political and civic discourse. Underlying such a “coarsening" is habituation to the previously unacceptable. This too is dangerous in a democracy where many civic norms, perhaps the most important, are not enshrined in law but are part of the common understanding.

Yet another reaction is anger. The #MeToo movement and many other protests have arisen as a counterpoint to habituation. Protests movements and counter-revolutions may be part of an inevitable dialectic that radical change and chaos set in motion. As protests and opposing narratives take root, they bring with them their own unpredictability and uncertainty. As an example, in the new consciousness that the #MeToo movement ushered in, there is flux and debate over how to call out and punish sexual harassment, how to assess the severity of injury from insensitive language versus physical assault.

Finally, when a political climate of chaos and unpredictability is framed in zero-sum terms, proponents and opponents of radical changes view one another as adversaries, not in political debates over the best course of government action, but as enemies of all that is good. Chaotic government often fuels the political temperature to a burn. Instead of a common polity, there are pitched camps, each demonizing the other. Such heightened emotions themselves contribute to increased stress, as adrenalin surges over every political discussion.

You have probably read much of the above analysis before. Whether you agree or not, this characterization of current national politics in the U. S. is not new. However, much less attention has been paid to effects on children. Perhaps it is assumed that children exist only in the private sphere, in family life, school, sports, and peer play. The political sphere does not impinge on them, aside from civics classes (increasingly rare in schools) or memorization of state capitols.

We should question these assumptions. Children are not deaf to adult discussions (and angry quarrels) over political issues. As we all know, children pick up stress vibes from their parents, teachers and friends, and from the media too. Scholars of political socialization, the process by which children acquire their political views and behaviors, point out that a strong predictor of later adult political orientation is the affiliations of one’s parents. Even in households where adults view themselves as unengaged in political life, a political view is being transmitted. In this case, it holds that politicians of every stripe are worthless, corrupt or unconcerned with the wellbeing of ordinary citizens.

More broadly, when children sense that parents feel out of control and not in charge, children feel vulnerable. A chaotic and disruptive political climate can breed such feelings in children both directly, in their exposure to daily news and indirectly, as they see adults reacting in withdrawal, cynicism, anger or revolt.

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More from Gail F. Melson Ph.D.
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