The POLITICO Shrink Why Does John Boehner Cry So Much? Why does John Boehner cry so much?

“Beware of men who cry,” the writer Nora Ephron once cautioned. “It’s true that men who cry are sensitive to and in touch with feelings, but the only feelings they tend to be sensitive to and in touch with are their own.”

Ephron was a wise woman, and her warning is a good starting point for trying to understand one of the more intriguing psychological puzzles in modern-day politics: House Speaker John Boehner, the Ohio Republican who is second in line to the presidency and yet frequently breaks down crying in public—most recently during a 60 Minutes segment that aired Sunday night. There Boehner was, showing Scott Pelley around the Capitol, when a seemingly innocuous question made him tear up: “Do you ever take this for granted?” Pelley asked. “Never,” Boehner choked out. “Listen, for a guy who grew up mopping floors at my dad’s bar, it’s a pretty humbling experience.”


Boehner has gotten misty eyed during a tribute to golf legend Arnold Palmer, while listening to Irish music on St. Patrick’s Day and while singing “America the Beautiful,” among other occasions. But perhaps the most famous—and one of the most telling—examples of Boehner’s crying came on Election Night in 2010, when Republicans reclaimed the House and Boehner knew he would replace Nancy Pelosi as speaker. At a moment when he should have been emotionally high as a kite, Boehner was crying—and not tears of joy. Looking pained and waving off cheers, Boehner managed to state, between sobs, “I’ve spent my whole life … [ sniff] … chasing … [ sniff, sniff] … the American dream … I put myself through school, working…”— [chokes up]— “every rotten job there was, and every night shift I could find. And I poured my heart and soul into running a small business [more tears].” Finally, Boehner was able to blubber perhaps the most incongruous statement he could have made at that moment: “I am ready to lead.”

Boehner has had many weepy moments. | Top: Reuters; bottom: AP Photos

Gail Collins of the New York Times was among the first to write about Boehner’s crying. She noted that Boehner was all verklempt during a 60 Minutes interview with Lesley Stahl when the subject of children came up. Boehner, one of 12 kids himself and father to two daughters, told Stahl he can no longer visit schools, or even look at the little kids on the playground, because he immediately starts crying. Boehner’s tears-for-tots do not speak to some deep trauma or catastrophe involving a child. Nope. The reason Boehner cannot visit schools without coming apart at the emotional seams was, as he choked out, “making sure these kids have a shot at the American dream, like I did, is important.”

Boehner’s life story is, indeed, a version of the American dream—he grew up waiting tables and tending bar at the family’s tavern in Ohio and paid his way through Xavier University by working as a night janitor. As he himself said, he got to the top “working every rotten job there was.”

But the “I did it!” joy is missing. With Boehner, we get the opposite: rather than shouts of triumph for prevailing against the odds, howls of pain and angst.

The world assumes he has a surfeit of power, and yet if you look deep into his watery brown eyes, or see him crying when he should be chest-bumping Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, what you find is self-doubt, indecision and impotence.

The enigma of Boehner is this: The world assumes he has a surfeit of power, and yet if you look deep into his watery brown eyes, or see him crying when he should be chest-bumping Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, what you find is self-doubt, indecision and impotence. As one Democratic aide told Rolling Stone: “He’s just sort of like, ‘Oh, how did I get here?’ I think of him sort of as a big Saint Bernard to [House Majority Leader] Eric Cantor’s yapping Chihuahua.” And it’s not just Democrats who beat up on Boehner. He’s shown embarrassingly little sway over the Tea Party faction of his own party, and even in his home state of Ohio just 37 percent of Republicans (and 20 percent of all voters) said they approve of the job he’s done—and that was before the recent government shutdown.

Emotional incongruities tend to be upsetting to observers—and Boehner’s tears are no exception; they often provoke intensely hostile feelings. But it’s not just that Boehner sobs when others are celebrating. It’s something deeper: Boehner cries for Boehner. In 2010, for instance, Boehner cried because he won an award from the anti-abortion group Americans United for Life. In exactly the same way he cried about not being able to see kids at school because he longs for them to achieve the American dream like he did, Boehner’s reaction to the award was purely narcissistic: He seemed to be crying about his own childhood and the pain he felt in his own youth, not for the constituency that gave him the award: “I have 11 brothers and sisters,” he blubbered, “I know it wasn’t convenient for my mom to have 12 of us, but I’m sure glad they’re all here.”

Nancy Pelosi, no lightweight when it comes to narcissistic gratification, nailed what’s amiss with the man who took the speaker’s gavel from her: Asked to react to how Boehner cried when the Republicans romped in the 2010 elections, Pelosi noted: “If I cry, it’s about the personal loss of a friend or something like that,” she said. “But when it comes to politics—no, I don’t cry. I would never think of crying about any loss of an office, because that’s always a possibility. And if you’re professional, then you deal with it professionally.”

This swipe at Boehner is spot on: A psychologically healthy adult must learn to deal with distressing situations professionally: If and when crying is inappropriate, you don’t cry. So what’s his problem? Why can’t Boehner shut off the waterworks, especially when the subject is his own childhood and his rise to power?

I believe it comes down to a problem of self-esteem. To understand what I mean, it’s useful to consider a formula devised by the psychologist and philosopher William James about how self-esteem develops. (To use this formula, devised more than 100 years ago, substitute the term “expectations” for “pretensions,” since connotations of the terms have morphed over time.)

SELF-ESTEEM = SUCCESS / PRETENSIONS

Despite having been installed in a position of power (i.e., success), Boehner does not feel pride and self-worth. Instead, he feels in over his head (or, as some pop psychologists would say, like an imposter), because he doesn’t know how to meet the huge expectations (i.e., pretensions) inherent in his role as speaker.

On Election Night 2010, a moment when he should have been emotionally high as a kite, Boehner was crying—and not tears of joy. | Cliff Owen/AP Photo

The reason is simple: Boehner brings few authentic political skills to the role of speaker—the success component. Political analysts far more sophisticated than I have made this point many times. Writing in the New York Times Magazine last year, Matt Bai zeroed in on it: “Boehner had traveled an idiosyncratic path to the speakership, having never served as a House whip, the pivotal job of corralling and counting votes. He wasn’t much of a closer, either; the more aggressive tactics that ‘getting to yes’ sometimes required didn’t come naturally to him. Boehner seemed to believe that his prestige as speaker would carry the day on key votes, but … other members of his leadership team had little faith in his predictions.” Boehner loves to talk about how he's worked "every rotten job there was." Great—but rotten jobs don't prepare you for the top spot in the Republican Party.

According to James’s formula, Boehner would have been much better off passing on the chance to be speaker and serving instead as a well-regarded representative. As James put it, “To give up pretensions is as blessed a relief as to get them gratified.” In other words, it’s possible to increase self-esteem by lowering performance expectations. The problem is, men of Boehner’s ilk find “giving up pretensions” impossible, especially when the job in question is as prestigious as speaker of the House.

I bet Boehner was happier working in his father’s bar back in Ohio, where pretensions were minimal and his self-esteem soared, than he is today: a man with performance expectations weighing on him like an anchor, who gets beat on like a piñata by Democrats and Tea Party conservatives alike.

Boehner is a Catholic. For that reason, I suggest that he return to his roots and read some scripture. Specifically, St. Luke (12:48): “For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required.”

Clinical psychologist Steven Berglas was a faculty member in Harvard Medical School’s Department of Psychiatry and staff member at McLean Hospital for 25 years. He is now an executive coach and corporate consultant based in Los Angeles.