When Jokes Hurt: How to Pause, Listen, and STOP
By Merle Massie
OK. Storytime.
I attend a lot of agricultural shows, and I love them. All the shiny machinery, the latest technology, the farmers with cool inventions scaled up to sell directly to market, and meeting lots of people. I’ll drop by a booth or stop to chat on the street if it’s an outdoor event. People ask, "What do you do?” And I say “I’m from The Do More Agriculture Foundation. We work on mental health in agriculture.”
Responses tend to fall into three broad categories: enthusiastic support for our work (thank you, we also believe in what we do), a polite head nod (sometimes with a change of topic), or the third:
“Mental health in agriculture, huh? So, you’re just walking around here looking for people talking to themselves, and then …taking them to the hospital?”
I can never tell if it’s a terrible attempt at humour or if someone truly thinks that’s what a person with a mental illness acts like and what we should do.
Or, I’ll meet a jokester: “Do you see that squirrel? I see a squirrel up in those rafters. Do you see it, or am I just seeing things?” With an awkward wink, or a chuckle.
Jokes and jabs may seem funny at the moment, but here’s why they are not: there’s really nowhere for the conversation to go. If I don’t immediately laugh, it gets awkward, fast. Some apologize, and try to smooth things over. Others simply stop talking, nod, and step away.
People know when they’ve gone too far. I have no doubt that it shows on my face. I’ve known far too many rural suicides. And here’s the thing: in agriculture, most of us have known someone whom we’ve lost to suicide.
When we continue to offer and accept stereotypes wrapped up as ‘jokes’, such jabs do one powerful and problematic thing: they signal to the people who hear us that we aren’t the kind of person they should share hard things with. When the automatic first response is to reach for the joke or say something mean, we signal with our words that we do not welcome, and cannot be trusted, with these stories.
And that’s sad.
What saddens me is how deeply people can hurt, and hurt terribly, when they lose a friend or neighbor to suicide. So often they say, “I didn’t know - I wish I’d known.” When someone tells me that they don’t know anyone who struggles with their mental health, I wonder if their language or tone or jokes might be sending signals that make them seem unsafe to confide in. The truth is, we are all connected to many people who are carrying adversities that affect how they feel. If we don’t hear about them, it may be because they don’t feel safe telling us.
Recently, I came across a tool that may help us all learn how to handle those conversations differently — how to not reach for stereotypes and poor humour, and how to identify and understand the pain and poison we drop into our culture: STOP. Developed by the Canadian Mental Health Association, STOP is a listening tool that breaks down what to watch for in conversation and in writing about mental health. I have found it really helpful.
It asks us to pay attention to the following four things:
Stereotypes.
If the attitude or comment lumps all people with a condition alike, that’s a stereotype. The ‘joke’ that all people with mental illness talk to themselves, don’t belong at an ag show and should be in hospital, or see things that aren’t there, are based on stereotypes. In these so-called ‘jokes,’ these assumptions suggest:
1) Mental illness presents with socially odd symptoms.
2) It’s ok to make fun and laugh at those who are ill, and
3) People with mental illness don’t belong.
Stereotypes erase humanity - and that is harmful. About 25% of us present with clinical symptoms of a mental illness—from anxiety through to depression, PTSD, post-partum disorder or others—in our lifetime. Knowing that our friends will reach for a stereotype and make jokes means that people hide their symptoms and don’t get help.
Trivialize and belittle.
This shows up when someone downplays an illness or shames a person for struggling. Comments like:
“You can’t be depressed. What do you have to be depressed about?”
“No one needs medication. People just need to work harder.”
“If you can’t handle stress, you should get out of farming.”
Trivializing language makes people feel weak or ashamed. It reinforces stigma, and can keep them from seeking help early, when it matters most. We use this language to reinforce our ‘tough it out’ culture, ignoring the fact that mental illness can strike anyone at any time.
Offensive and insulting.
The comment suggesting mentally ill people should be immediately taken to hospital was offensive and insulting—both to those being described and to The Do More Agriculture’s Foundation’s work. It reinforced exactly the kinds of harmful attitudes we aim to challenge.
Language like “nut job” or “crazy” or “loony bin” is rampant when it comes to talking about mental illness. More subtle comments—like “mental health talk is making people soft”—are also damaging. Offensive and insulting language is common, often accepted, and reinforces a culture where prejudices, biases, and discrimination can persist. For example, if we are reluctant or refuse to hire an expert combine operator or a teller at a bank because they’ve had in-person treatment in a hospital, we are showing bias, even prejudice, and are discriminating on the basis of health. If no one calls out those decisions, a culture quietly forms that accepts bias and discrimination. When these attitudes go unchallenged, people hide their struggles, and a culture of shame and fear continues.
Patronizing
Looking down on someone with mental illness—assuming they’re less capable or shouldn’t take on roles or responsibilities—is patronizing. It’s the attitude that those living with a diagnosed illness are not as capable as other people. That attitude makes it socially ok to treat those with mental health challenges differently, less likely to be interviewed or chosen for jobs, volunteer or leadership roles, even if they have the needed skillset and desire. Phrases that sound kind, like “We just don’t think this would be good for them,” can mask bias and prejudice. In the conversation I had at the ag show, there was a clear suggestion that those with mental illness are less. A patronizing attitude sidelines skilled, capable people and reinforces exclusion.
With mental illness covering a wide spectrum of intensity and duration, and given our rural ‘tough it out’ tendencies, there’s a culture of denial and shame. Doubt takes hold—especially when we stereotype and trivialize illness, make poor jokes or make people feel small. The way we talk is a huge part of what stops people from getting help.
And the solution lies with each and every one of us: STOP.
Together, these four attitudes—Stereotyping, Trivializing, Offensive, Patronizing—make up STOP. When we hear them, it’s a signal to pause, reflect, and respond differently:
If we’re going to use the stereotype of talking to ourselves, then let’s all do it. Ask yourself: How do I talk about mental illness? If someone I loved were navigating an illness of the mind, what would they hear from me? What attitudes am I showing the world? How would they feel if they heard me talking?
Cultivating a culture where all are encouraged, supported, and empowered to care for our mental health starts with each of us. Every person can help break down the discrimination, bias, and stereotypes. What we say really does matter. We aren’t talking to ourselves. We talk to each other.
The next time we are tempted to reach for the stereotype, make that joke or jab? Let’s take a breath. And STOP.
I want to be the one that my friends and family trust.