I
was standing in line at Citibank to deposit a cheque. It was lunch time in
Central and the branch was packed to the hilt. The customer in front of me, a
middle-aged gentleman in a tailored suit, asked to take out five thousand Euros
in cash. Behind the counter was a teller who couldn’t have been more than six
months out of university. Her name was proudly embossed on her lapel pin:
Trainee.
“I’m
sorry, Mr. Cheung,” Trainee said to the gentleman, before explaining that she
didn’t have enough Euros and that a day’s notice was normally required for
withdrawals over a certain amount. Bank policy. She asked him to either collect
the cash the next day or try the main branch. What followed, however, was an
unstoppable tirade from the not-so-gentleman over a situation he called an
“outrage” and a “waste of everyone’s time,” all delivered with the usual
hysterics: clenched jaw, flapping arms and a face as red as a ripe tomato. This
Bruce Banner wannabe had transformed into his monstrous alter ego. “Where is
your manager?” the Hulk rumbled. By now, everyone at the branch was staring at the
man with one thought on their minds: there is a rageaholic in the house.
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| There is a bit of green monster in all of us |
The
Christian faith regards anger as one of the seven deadly sins. The Buddhists call
it one of the “three poisons” that causes human suffering. Abominable as it is,
rage is an evolutionary instinct, a biologically embedded “fight-or-flight”
response to external threats. It is also a necessary step in the way we cope
with bad news. According to the celebrated Kübler-Ross model, grievers go
through a series of emotional stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression,
and acceptance. But we like to wallow in the second stage and have no qualms
doing it in public places like a crowded bank in the middle of Central. With
blood rushing to our heads and our hearts pounding like taiko drums, the only
stages we know are yelling, cursing, name-calling and threatening. Bargaining will
have to wait.
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| We like to linger in the second stage |
Mobile
phones and social networks have shrunk our personal space. Being constantly in
each other’s face has shortened our fuse, thinned our patience and made urban rage
an epidemic. Psychologists estimate that people lose their cool on average of
10 to 14 times a day. What used to be a genetically-coded survival mechanism is
now triggered almost hourly by minor annoyances like getting cut off in traffic
or missing an elevator. When it comes to road rage, air rage and office rage,
we are both victims and offenders. At times it feels as though everyone around
us is in a constant state of smouldering anger. But going berserk comes with a price.
Whereas laughter releases endorphins, which elevate our mood, anger leads to a
surge in adrenaline and cortisol, which do just the opposite. And some more. Rage-related
ailments include headaches, indigestion, high blood pressure, heart attack and
stroke.
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| $!#@&* |
But
if getting mad is bad for us, then why do we still do it?
The
simple answer is pride. Anger conveys two clear social messages: we are under
threat and we won’t take it lying down. When a taxi driver takes us for a ride
and says he does it to avoid traffic, we feel obligated to assert our manhood
by going postal on them. Our pride is most at risk when the threat is
prejudice-based, such as when a co-worker cracks a joke about our waistlines or
a sexist property broker only talks to the husband. Often time the prejudice is
imagined. Mr. Cheung’s manic episode at Citibank was perhaps stoked by a nagging
suspicion that the teller’s response had less to do with bank policy and more
to do with his own social station. He wondered if Li Ka Shing would be told to “come
back tomorrow.” Then came the existential self-doubt: Why am I stuck in my
dead-end job? What am I doing here running errands for someone else? Psychiatrists
say that when you blow up, you are only trying to relieve the contempt you feel
for yourself. I see plenty of proof of that every day.
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| He says to trust him... |
While some rageaholics explode to preserve their pride, others do so for purely utilitarian reasons. They do what a three-month-old infant does: throw a tantrum to get what they want. And it works, because anger often legitimizes behaviours. Researchers found that people in negotiations tend to concede more to the angry side than to the placid side. They also found that people with angry facial expressions are perceived as powerful and in a higher social position. These findings explain why so much of our aggression is directed at our colleagues and people in the service industry. Whether it is in the office or at the restaurant, it is the squeaky wheel that gets the oil and the angry bird that gets the worm.
Like
it or not, we live in a society where a little door-slamming or pounding on the
desk can go a long way. This phenomenon is particularly prevalent in Asia,
where people tend to avoid confrontation and, as a result, the cost of public
rage is lower. After all, what can a defenceless Bangkok waitress do when you lash
out at her for not giving you a window-side table? Over time, the Asian
pacifism has spawned a new species called the “ugly expats.” They are the
subset of foreigners living in Asia who exploit this cultural arbitrage. They think
of themselves as rock stars and that none of the social rules apply to them.
They make a scene, get their way and brag about it to their friends. But pit
bulls beware: pull that kind of horse manure back home in New York, London or
Sydney and they will make you pay. Just ask Alec Baldwin who famously got
booted off the plane for being aggressive toward a flight attendant, or Russell
Crowe who was arrested and charged with second-degree assault for throwing a
telephone at a hotel employee.
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| "Please don't hurt me." |
I
admit I don’t have the best of tempers. Put me in front of a rude waitress or a
foul-mouthed bus driver, and I won’t hesitate to roll up my proverbial sleeves
and start a screaming match. While I justify my feistiness by calling it a
one-man crusade to “teach these people a lesson” for the betterment of mankind,
deep down I know it still has much to do with defending my pride or wanting to
be a squeaky wheel. And while as a lawyer I am accustomed to being adversarial,
I am aware of the effect an unpleasant confrontation can have on my dinner
guests or travel companions.
What’s more, rageaholics often have trouble switching off their anger, even when dealing with friends and family. I am known to let the heat of the moment get the best of me and am too willing to damage a relationship just to make a point. The wounds may heal over time, but the scars remain. I have now learned to lock up my alter ego and let the green monster out only to protect my loved ones. The warning label on the fire escape hammer says it all: use only in an actual emergency. Nowadays whenever I am about to throw a fit, I make myself count to 30 or name all the American presidents since Teddy Roosevelt. By the time I get to Harry Truman, I will have forgotten what got me worked up in the first place. It sounds simple but it works every time.
What’s more, rageaholics often have trouble switching off their anger, even when dealing with friends and family. I am known to let the heat of the moment get the best of me and am too willing to damage a relationship just to make a point. The wounds may heal over time, but the scars remain. I have now learned to lock up my alter ego and let the green monster out only to protect my loved ones. The warning label on the fire escape hammer says it all: use only in an actual emergency. Nowadays whenever I am about to throw a fit, I make myself count to 30 or name all the American presidents since Teddy Roosevelt. By the time I get to Harry Truman, I will have forgotten what got me worked up in the first place. It sounds simple but it works every time.
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| For emergency only |
As
for the hothead at Citibank, he finally got what he wanted. The branch manager
showed up moments later to do damage control. He called the main branch to have
the Euros delivered to Mr. Cheung in 20 minutes. And so the angry man triumphed
once again. Or so he thought, as did King Pyrrhus after he defeated the Romans
only to discover that his victory came at an unanticipated and devastating cost.
Take it from a recovering rageaholic.
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| Victory at any cost? |
* * *
This article previously appeared in the May/June 2013 issue of MANIFESTO magazine under Jason Y. Ng's column "The Urban Confessional."
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| As printed in MANIFESTO |
