disappear.
In a heightened state of anxiety, victims often notice and misinterpret normal physical sensations. A stomach gurgle can be mistaken for a sign of food poisoning. And if others around you grab their stomachs and fall to the floor, your fear level might heighten, your knees might buckle, and you might fall to the floor as well. The sheer force of group dynamics tends to take over, and people get swept up in the symptoms of the crowd. The social hierarchy of the group can also play out in the spread of symptoms. If the “popular” girls faint first, the less popular will likely follow their lead. In this Boston-suburb outbreak, the original boy who fell ill and cut his chin was one of the most well-liked kids in the school.
A decade later I studied a similar outbreak of illness that suddenly afflicted a group of student performers in Southern California. Our research team found that the best predictor of a child getting the symptoms of hysteria was when that child observed a friend become sick. An outbreak of mass hysteria is like a perfect storm, where all the necessary elements are lined up together: the crowd, heightened anxiety, physical stress such as heat, fatigue, or hunger, and influential social networking. One trigger, whether it’s a chin cut on a riser or a friend’s indigestion, can cascade into a full-blown outbreak of group hysteria. Today, when mass hysteria strikes, health officials are savvier in identifying both physical and psychological explanations. What people often don’t realize is that even if the symptoms have a psychological cause, the victim is not making a “decision” to get sick. It’s an unconscious process, and the physical symptoms are real.
I WAS BECOMING FAMILIAR WITH THE ROUTE to the suburbs as I drove back down to the elementary school for the Friday-evening performance. I parked a couple of blocks away from the school, and as I walked toward the auditorium, I started to worry about what I would do if there actually was another outbreak. Maybe I should have stopped atthe market and brought a couple of hundred brown paper bags for people to breathe into. Then I wondered whether there might truly be a physical cause and I would get sick as well. Or worse, what if I fell victim to mass hysteria? Okay, I had to calm down. I was getting hysterical before I even got to the auditorium. Some big-shot Harvard psychiatrist I was.
I entered wearing an anonymous blue blazer rather than my white coat. The place was filling up with parents and siblings of kids in the show. I took a seat in the back, with my notepad in pocket, prepared to jot down any potentially important observations. I subtly sniffed in several directions to make sure I didn’t detect any toxic fumes. I noticed Dorothy and George from the hospital, sitting toward the front of the auditorium. George was talking with some friends, but Dorothy was staring straight at me. Oh boy, she was probably still pissed. I nodded toward her, and to my surprise she nodded back in a friendly way.
Saxon welcomed the audience and introduced the chorus. I watched them perform while scanning the room for any signs of unusual behavior. After about twenty minutes, I was bored. Everything went along smoothly, without incident—no stomachaches, no fainting schoolgirls, no mass hysteria at all. I admit I was a little disappointed but also greatly relieved.
As I got up to leave after the show, I heard someone calling, “Dr. Small! Dr. Small! Please, wait.” Seeing Dorothy rushing toward me, I braced myself.
“I’m glad to see you again. I’m sorry I was so short with you at the hospital. We were just worried about Lindsey.”
“How is she doing?” I asked.
“Much better, thank you,” Dorothy said. “But she’s had some difficulties, and I wanted to talk to you about that. Do you have a moment?”
“Of course,” I replied. “Let’s step outside.”
We sat down on a nearby bench, and Dorothy told me that she
In a heightened state of anxiety, victims often notice and misinterpret normal physical sensations. A stomach gurgle can be mistaken for a sign of food poisoning. And if others around you grab their stomachs and fall to the floor, your fear level might heighten, your knees might buckle, and you might fall to the floor as well. The sheer force of group dynamics tends to take over, and people get swept up in the symptoms of the crowd. The social hierarchy of the group can also play out in the spread of symptoms. If the “popular” girls faint first, the less popular will likely follow their lead. In this Boston-suburb outbreak, the original boy who fell ill and cut his chin was one of the most well-liked kids in the school.
A decade later I studied a similar outbreak of illness that suddenly afflicted a group of student performers in Southern California. Our research team found that the best predictor of a child getting the symptoms of hysteria was when that child observed a friend become sick. An outbreak of mass hysteria is like a perfect storm, where all the necessary elements are lined up together: the crowd, heightened anxiety, physical stress such as heat, fatigue, or hunger, and influential social networking. One trigger, whether it’s a chin cut on a riser or a friend’s indigestion, can cascade into a full-blown outbreak of group hysteria. Today, when mass hysteria strikes, health officials are savvier in identifying both physical and psychological explanations. What people often don’t realize is that even if the symptoms have a psychological cause, the victim is not making a “decision” to get sick. It’s an unconscious process, and the physical symptoms are real.
I WAS BECOMING FAMILIAR WITH THE ROUTE to the suburbs as I drove back down to the elementary school for the Friday-evening performance. I parked a couple of blocks away from the school, and as I walked toward the auditorium, I started to worry about what I would do if there actually was another outbreak. Maybe I should have stopped atthe market and brought a couple of hundred brown paper bags for people to breathe into. Then I wondered whether there might truly be a physical cause and I would get sick as well. Or worse, what if I fell victim to mass hysteria? Okay, I had to calm down. I was getting hysterical before I even got to the auditorium. Some big-shot Harvard psychiatrist I was.
I entered wearing an anonymous blue blazer rather than my white coat. The place was filling up with parents and siblings of kids in the show. I took a seat in the back, with my notepad in pocket, prepared to jot down any potentially important observations. I subtly sniffed in several directions to make sure I didn’t detect any toxic fumes. I noticed Dorothy and George from the hospital, sitting toward the front of the auditorium. George was talking with some friends, but Dorothy was staring straight at me. Oh boy, she was probably still pissed. I nodded toward her, and to my surprise she nodded back in a friendly way.
Saxon welcomed the audience and introduced the chorus. I watched them perform while scanning the room for any signs of unusual behavior. After about twenty minutes, I was bored. Everything went along smoothly, without incident—no stomachaches, no fainting schoolgirls, no mass hysteria at all. I admit I was a little disappointed but also greatly relieved.
As I got up to leave after the show, I heard someone calling, “Dr. Small! Dr. Small! Please, wait.” Seeing Dorothy rushing toward me, I braced myself.
“I’m glad to see you again. I’m sorry I was so short with you at the hospital. We were just worried about Lindsey.”
“How is she doing?” I asked.
“Much better, thank you,” Dorothy said. “But she’s had some difficulties, and I wanted to talk to you about that. Do you have a moment?”
“Of course,” I replied. “Let’s step outside.”
We sat down on a nearby bench, and Dorothy told me that she
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