In "Be That Model" (Issue 292, Oct 28), Philip Banks laments that the many gay men who complain about their unhappiness seem unwilling to make any constructive changes to alter their circumstances. He suggests that gay men who don't like what's out in the community try to "start something new." The sentiment and advice is admirable. In fact, I have used many an opportunity to do exactly the same thing with those people who have complained incessantly about their depressing circumstances.
As I'm sure Mr. Banks has learned—as have I—this advice usually brings wholehearted agreement, a look of sincere amazement at our supposedly infinite wisdom, and a sense of peace and solace in knowing that there is a way out of the vicious cycle. But I'm sure Mr. Banks also knows how this advice is just as quickly relegated to the back of the mind, only to collect dust and cobwebs. The usual explanation for this is that people are just lazy, unmotivated, or—if you take the psychologically apologist view like me—that some people's situations are really difficult and they just require more time, patience, and understanding.
But, there's something all of these explanations ignore—the fact that unhappy people may actually not want change (themselves or their unhappy circumstances) despite the seeming common sense that unhappiness is a wholly unpleasant state for which the only antidote is happiness. Indeed, some people do choose unhappiness, and the choice is actually a rational one. And herein lies what many people forget—that before unhappy people are in a position to change, they must feel that the benefits of change outweigh the costs. Whether or not this cost-benefit analysis is a conscious process (most often it's only partly conscious), it always occurs.
A gay man may lament, for example, that nobody in the community smiles or says hello while standing in line. But doing precisely what would remedy this situation—smiling or saying hello himself—might involve a cost: exposing himself to self-perceived ridicule, something which, because of his unique personal circumstances (whatever they may be) would be far more uncomfortable or scarier than remaining alone and feeling alienated.
Similarly, a gay man may complain that everyone he hates is a loser, is mean, or is even abusive, but the obvious remedy to this—working on himself and figuring out why he half-deliberately and repeatedly seeks out the same kinds of relationships—would involve another big cost: facing some very painful personal issues. For instance, he might have to revisit his abusive childhood to understand that his choice of unsavory partners reflects the fact that these are the only kinds of relationships he has ever known and, hence, the only ones that are familiar and predictable, that don't hold any surprises, and that he knows how to navigate. The alternative—being in relationships with caring people—would simply be too alien and overwhelming.
The same can be said about the man who constantly complains that the men he dates are shallow or promiscuous. He might have a hard time seeking out a more committed partner because it might involve having to face the reasons that he himself is shallow or promiscuous. In his mind, this is too great a cost. Far better to stick with the lesser of the two evils: continue dating people who make him unhappy.
The "perks" of remaining in a relatively unhappy state can also tilt the cost-benefit ratio to the benefit side. Being in constant state of misery tends to attract sympathy from others—and from oneself (i.e., licking one's wounds). It can be a quick and ready topic for intimate conversation—a (perverse) way of being close with others. And, like bad relationships, it also has the benefit of being stable, predictable, and familiar. Misery and depression can be like a warm security blanket; the known is always seen as more valuable than the unknown. It's a function of being human.
But let's say a person finally gets sick of the status quo—he can't take it any more because he has hit rock bottom (precisely where some people need to be before contemplating any kind of change). Will this be enough to actually trigger constructive change? No. The person also has to feel that he can change and that he has the resources to change. In all, change occurs only when the benefits outweigh the costs, the person believes he can change, and the resources for change are available (and that he himself is able to get access to them). If any of these ingredients are missing, change cannot occur.
So where does this leave people like Mr. Banks and myself, who seem to be the recipients of choice for people's constant lamentations? Well, one choice is just to listen. But, unless you're like Lucy from Peanuts, taking a nickel a pop, it might be better to talk to a complainer about ways he can change any of the factors that I mentioned above. Perhaps you can try to help the person change the cost-benefit ratio. Can you can help him consider the hidden costs of the status quo—that in the final calculation, the benefits of change actually outweigh the costs? Is there a way to show him that the status quo works fine for the short term, but leads to misery in the long term?
Can you, like Mr. Banks's friend, Eric, point out inconsistencies in what the person is saying—mentioning, for example, that although he says he's happier with the lesser of two perceived evils, he's actually still quite miserable in the main? Sometimes pointing out to a person how much of their lives they have spent in misery can convince them that the status quo actually doesn't carry any valuable benefits.
You might also do best to explicitly mention that you're available for support and that you know of good resources if the person is ready to change. This, of course, carries even more weight if you can help the person realise that he does have the ability to change himself, his circumstances, or his community if he has decided he wants to.
Gay men must accept that they have more burdens than other people. They must address the psychological issues that are part and parcel of coming out and navigating relationships for which there still remain too few models. So too must they address the social stigma of being gay, as well as any personal issues that are independent of their sexuality but which may exacerbate the difficulties that go along with coming to terms with their sexual orientation. If these issues aren't dealt with, mental health issues and unhappiness are inevitable. Often, the process of dealing with these issues involves making active changes in one's environment and inside oneself. But without the necessary ingredients, change will be stultified.
As gay men, perhaps we'd all do better to spend less time telling unhappy friends that they should change—or constantly asking ourselves why they don't change—and actually take constructive steps in helping them make change a doable reality. The health of individual people, and of our community as a whole, depends on this.
Eddy Elmer,
Vancouver, BC
Copyright © 2004, by Eddy M. Elmer
Permanent URL: http://www.eddyelmer.com/articles/changex.htm