Emotion Regulation of Others and Self

Emotion regulation ‘in operation’

Posted on Nov 11, 2010 by Karen Niven

Last month I cut my hand badly after struggling with a heavy wooden gate and ended up in hospital after the tendon sheath of my middle finger got infected.  Although I didn’t think about it in these terms at the time, one particular incident during that period gives an interesting example of how interpersonal affect regulation might operate in institutional contexts.  I had two operations on my finger, but my pre-operative experiences were quite different on these two occasions.

The first time I was taken down to the operating theatre (which happened to be at the very opposite end of a large hospital), I was in a wheelchair and the porter maintained a cheerful and jokey demeanour throughout the long trek through corridors, up and down lifts, and past gawking outpatients.  When I was taken into the prep room, the team of anaesthetists did their best to put me at ease and generally seemed confident and relaxed.  I may have been a little anxious about the effects of the general anaesthetic and what I would feel like afterwards, but I really didn’t spend much time agonising.

On the second occasion, I was wheeled along stretched out in my bed by a porter who struggled and puffed the whole way and seemed to think that the whole thing was an imposition on his valuable time.  From my prone perspective, the hospital building took on a very different appearance and the bridge link connecting the new and old sections was noticeably chilly.  When I got to the prep room this time, I was greeted by a group of solemn faced hospital staff who didn’t seem to want to look at me, let along converse.  When the chief anaesthetist arrived at last, he seemed so solemn that I wondered whether my blood tests had revealed a far more serious problem with my health than I’d envisaged.  Finally, he started to speak, in very apologetic terms, and I immediately feared the worst.  As it happened, a serious traffic accident meant that they now had to reschedule my operation, so I’d have to go back to the ward again.  Such news might seem more appropriate grounds for acute sympathy for others’ suffering, but in fact, I was too relieved to register any other kind of emotion.  Disappointment came much later.

Maybe the staff had been concerned about the fate of their emergency patients rather than my own, but I had no way of telling that at the time.  Perhaps they felt it was not their job to deliver the bad news to me and were waiting uncomfortably for the person in charge of that particular brand of emotional labour to arrive.  At any rate, the whole episode brought home to me something I’ve always been interested in at a more theoretical level.  That other people’s emotions directly affect our own, and that people regulate their emotions in ways that are sensitive to their interpersonal effects.  Sometimes, this is done with poise and skill, as happened with my first hospital porter.  Other times, different goals and concerns seem to over-ride the usual habits of congeniality and interpersonal sensitivity, leading to an exacerbation of already unpleasant thoughts and feelings. 

One thing is for sure.  Regulating your own emotions is easier when other people are doing a good job of helping with that task.

Back to blog