by Tom Shafer
December 24, 2022
So, last evening I was channeling through our cable offerings and stopped briefly to view the ending of It’s a Wonderful Life — which, by the way, can be found somewhere on the boob tube around the clock during the holiday season. Anyway, in this last scene, the townspeople show up at the home of banker George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) to donate money to replace $8000 “lost” by Billy, his uncle and business partner (though the money was really “stolen” by snollygoster Mr. Potter), saving Bailey from imminent arrest. As George’s friends — and brother Harry — break into a roaring rendition of “Auld Lang Syne,” George tears up, thankful for the help provided by his friends, now realizing what a wonderful life he has — oh, and also thankful that his “old friend” Clarence has just received his wings as a freshly anointed angel. Though typical of Capra-esque finales, according to Jimmy Stewart, “You really had to pay for those happy endings.”
George’s tears got me thinking about a question I wrote down in a ledger many years ago, one that I intended God to answer: Why do humans cry emotional tears? Now, you may be thinking that Shafer has lost the last of his marbles, and well, you might be right about that, but I just ordered some new ones from Amazon so I’ll once again be fully supplied.
But back to the question. As it turns out, it really is a good one because researchers don’t have an answer.
In case you didn’t know, we can produce three different types of tears. Our basal tears, which seep from the auxiliary lacrimal glands located under our eyelids, cleanse and lubricate our eyes. Our reflex tears, which gush from lacrimal glands located on the outside of our eye sockets, react to external stimuli like the smell of a pungent onion or the unwanted poke of a finger. Then, our emotional tears, which pour from those same outer eye socket lacrimal glands, respond to heartwarming homecoming stories, ASPCA commercials, and melodramatic Hallmark Channel movies.
But why we weep like babies when we watch Love Story (women) or Field of Dreams (men) is still a mystery.
It makes sense from an evolutionary perspective that actual human babies cry for comfort because of their extreme helplessness from the beginning. But all of us typically grow out of that infantile need to reach out with our wailing calls and crocodile tears. Well, most of us do anyway.
So then why do we cry in adulthood?
Some researchers believe that emotional tears act as a reflex, as a way to relieve a presumed stress and bring balance hormonally to the body. Examples like crying at a funeral or after the breakup with a significant other provide support for this hypothesis — though other factors must be considered as well.
Other researchers posit that a more social component is at play here. The act of crying might be perceived as a visible cue for an emotional problem, a perceptible indication that something is wrong and that someone might need help. Comfort brought to the “crier” completes the social contract that humans reflexively adhere to, thus reinforcing societal norms that perhaps stem from our maternal and paternal instincts.
Oh, and by the way, no other animals cry emotional tears. It’s just us. So, if there is some supposed advantage to crying, like stress reduction or completing social contracts, why don’t other animals cry? Just another question we don’t have an answer to.
So, the next time your eyes start leaking while you are watching that devious Lost Puppy Budweiser commercial (“Really, I just had something in my eye!”), don’t feel it necessary to apologize for your wet cheeks. Just explain that most physio/socio/psychological researchers don’t know why humans cry and that you can’t be blamed for this unexplainable behavior. If that doesn’t work, drag your index finger through the fresh juice of a yellow onion and poke it in your friend’s eye. Guaranteed, you won’t be the only one crying.
