The Psychology Of Scandals

Of course, it’s not like they’re getting into them alone.

Other people’s massive public self-immolations are their problem, obviously, but we all live in society together and the boundaries between people are spongy, with the messy needs and inner lives of complete strangers colliding and intermingling in the murky intervenient “space” that scandal opens up. Someone decides to act out his weird psychodramas and tangled furtive longings on a nationwide scale, playing out his deepest, most lurid impulses, flamboyantly detonating his life — it’s like free public theater. The curtain opens on a bizarre private world of breached taboos, chaos, and misjudgment; through some brew of inadvertency or compulsion or recklessness, an unspeakable blunder is brought to light. And who’s the audience for these performances? All the rest of us: commenting on the action like a Greek chorus, dissecting motives like amateur psychoanalysts, maybe nervously pondering our own susceptibilities to life-wrecking inchoateness, at least that’s where my mind instantly goes.

Take the abovementioned governor. Previously a crusading attorney general with a reputation for sanctimony and moral fervor — including prosecuting prostitution rings, including signing a landmark anti- sex-trade bill raising penalties for men caught patronizing prostitutes (as he himself would soon be) — he’d reportedly forked over some $80,000 on secret trysts at upward of $3,000 a pop. The resignation came amid threats of prosecution and impeachment, announced at a mortifying press conference during which he admitted to “private failings,” accompanied by a miserable-looking wife draped in Hermes, valiantly bent on keeping up appearances though that ship had clearly sailed. It was a pretty gruesome scene, like watching someone swallow a hand grenade in real time, which obviously didn’t impede anyone’s enjoyment of the event. Speculation abounded regarding the couple’s sleeping arrangements, past, present, and future. A right-wing radio host blasted the wife for not seeing to the governor’s “needs,” earnest op-ed columnists speculated about the governor’s inability to really connect with another person, the late- night comedians had a field day (“To be fair, he did bring prostitution to its knees — one girl at a time”), a magazine cover displayed him in a full- length photo, an arrow pointing to his crotch labeled “Brain”… The projections flew like shrapnel.

My point is this. Scandals aren’t just fiascoes other people get themselves embroiled in while the rest of us go innocently about our business; we all have crucial roles to play. Here is the scandal psychodynamic in a nutshell: scandalizers screw things up in showy, provocative ways and the rest of us throw stones, luxuriating in the warm glow of imaginary imperviousness that other people’s life-destroying stupidities invariably provide. In other words, we need them as much as they need us. And speaking of that warm glow: if dancing on the grave of someone’s shattered life and reputation weren’t quite so gratifying, this would bode badly for the continuation of scandal, so it’s lucky from scandal’s point of view that other people’s downfalls are as perversely fascinating as they are.

Please note that I speak as a scandal fan myself. I confess, I love these stories: the voyeur is tic glimpses into the detritus of other people’s lives, the quirky plot twists and emotional carnage… Who doesn’t love them — as long as you’re not the one stuck explaining to your spouse why you won’t be going to work the next day and federal marshals are in the den seizing the home computer. Yes, I understand these people have done bad things, injured those who love them and torpedoed their lives in lavishly stupid ways, but clearly such impulses aren’t their problem alone. It’s the universal ailment if, as appears to be the case, beneath the thin camouflage of social niceties lies a raging maelstrom, some unspeakable inner bedlam. Scandals are like an anti-civics lesson — there to remind us of that smidge of ungovernability lodged deep at the human core which periodically breaks loose and throws everything into havoc, leading to grisly forms of ritual humiliation and social ignominy, or these days worse, since once the media get into the act, some of these poor chumps start looking more like bleeding open sores than actual humans, as gouged and disfigured as Old Testament lepers. Let’s not forget, all joking aside, that society can get vengeful when you spit on its rules, otherwise known as the Reality Principle. Also that a certain amount of nasty glee on our parts is