I dreamed I was at a nudist beach, crowded with men, women, and children, everyone naked and happy basking in the sun and playing in the water. I noticed that people were looking at me funny. A little boy pointed at me and, in an anguished voice, cried strange words in a language I didn’t understand. Suddenly, I realized that I was dressed, my shirt buttoned all the way up, my trousers professionally creased. Shoes! I was wearing expensive formal shoes that shone under the summer sun! I woke up in a sweat, feeling embarrassed and humiliated.
Okay, I confess: I’ve never had such a dream. But the other one—I’m naked in a normal setting—yes, very often, much too often! Before you start interpreting my dreams, though, let me tell you that this post isn’t about being naked or having dreams about it.
Photo by Pedro de Alcantara. This tree dwells in the Place des Vosges in central Paris.
It’s about the fear of ridicule.
And don’t you be ridiculous by denying that you personally don’t fear ridicule! You, of all people!
Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel ridiculous. I was just trying to make a point.
My point is that the fear of ridicule is an archetypal state or feeling—something that lurks within us and around us, and that manifests itself sooner or later, mildly or strongly; something that determines many of our behaviors, often without our being consciously aware of it; something permanently stressful and disagreeable, with the power to paralyze our thoughts, actions, opinions, and emotions; a threat.
The fear of ridicule is sufficiently established to receive a psychiatric diagnosis, complete with a label in an erudite foreign language: gelotophobia. This is from Wikipedia:
Gelotophobia is a fear of being laughed at, a type of social phobia. While most people do not like being laughed at, there is a sub-group of people that exceedingly fear it, and without obvious reasons, they relate laughter they hear to be directed at themselves. (…)
In his clinical observations, Dr. Michael Titze found that some of his patients seemed to be primarily worried about being laughed at. They tended to scan their environment for signs of laughter and ridicule. Furthermore, they reported that they had the impression of being ridiculous themselves. Additionally, Titze observed a specific movement pattern among them when they thought they were being laughed at—awkward, wooden movements that resembled those of wooden puppets. He described this state as "Pinocchio Syndrome."
Let’s simplify it and say that the fear of ridicule is universal, but the manifestations of ridicule are particular—to a family, a group of people, a society, a culture, a place and a time. Today this shirt is the height of cool. Tomorrow it’s junk, and only a ridiculous numskull would wear it.
Every one thing has its potential for the ridiculous, depending on the filters and perspectives of the perpetrators and victims of ridicule.
Here’s a partial list of ridiculents, to coin a term: courtship, forms of greeting, poetry, ballet, opera, interior design, makeup, education, politics, and religion. Also: speech patterns, PhD theses, and hats. Also: anything on TV. Also: the customs and rituals of countries other than your own.
Also: table manners, ceremony, etiquette, and protocol.
Moulay Hassan, Crown Prince of Morocco, hates having his hand kissed. He’s on to something.
The fear of ridicule can prevent you from speaking up, and from speaking altogether. It can prevent you from choosing the career that suits you most, if your family or social class deems your career choice ridiculous. It can prevent you from moving and breathing in your natural way, if you feel that you risk scorn, mockery, or any “special treatment.” It can prevent you from enjoying sex or from having sex. It can lead you to doubt yourself, judge yourself, and hate yourself. Happiness and health, the development of your talents and ambitions, the pleasures of daily life: the fear of ridicule threatens it all.
The Internet told me to tell you that the fear of ridicule is an urgent spiritual matter. This is from the Bible Hub:
The Fear of Ridicule
Psalm 1:1-6
Blessed is the man that walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the way of sinners…
As the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of a fool, and he is a poor invertebrate creature who allows himself to be laughed down when he attempts to stick to his principles and tries to do what he believes to be right. "Learn from the earliest days," says Sydney Smith, "to insure your principles against the perils of ridicule; you can no more exercise your reason if you live in the constant dread of laughter, than you can enjoy your life if you are in constant terror of death. No coward is greater than he who dares not to be wise because fools will laugh at him.”
Okay, we need an anti-fear-of-ridicule procedure.
Acknowledge that the fear is a big deal, for you and for everyone else.
Acknowledge that expressions of ridicule are completely variable from culture to culture, and even from individual to individual.
Acknowledge that you can’t make the potential for ridicule to go away, but to some degree you can choose how you react to it.
Relax.
Don’t ridicule other people. Instead, help them overcome their fear of it. Make yourself ridiculous on purpose. It’s very healing!
With many of my students in private lessons and workshops, I offer myself as a sort of ridiculous shield. I’ll make fun of myself in every respect, and if I see that you’re beginning to have a good time, I’ll find friendly ways to help make fun of your own sweet and tender self. Sooner or later, your gelotophobia dissipates and you develop its sister condition: gelotophilia, or the joy of being laughed at. I’m not making this up!
The photos below are from a ridiculous workshop I gave at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, Glasgow.
©2020, Pedro de Alcantara