We often assume that someone is a certain “kind” of person instead of realizing how circumstances may be influencing their behavior—a mistake I made when judging the actions of stars Gilda Radner and Gene Wilder in a drugstore.
Get in touch: podcast@gretchenrubin.com
Follow on social media:
@GretchenRubin on YouTube
@GretchenRubin on TikTok
@GretchenRubin on Instagram
@GretchenRubin on Threads
Get the podcast show notes by email every week:happiercast.com/shownotes
Get Gretchen Rubin’s newest bookLife in Five Senses to see how she discovered a surprising path to a life of more energy, creativity, luck, and love: by tuning in to the five senses. Now available – order here.
Visit Gretchen’s website to learn more about Gretchen’s best-selling books, products from The Happiness Project Collection, and the Happier app.
To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Last week, in “A Little Happier,” I told a story about Gene Wilder, Gilda Radner, and their dog Sparkle.
Looking back at their memoirs, and thinking about these two brilliant actors, reminded me of something I wrote back in 2007. This is what I wrote:
Several months ago I read Gilda Radner’s interesting memoir, It’s Always Something, and yesterday I finished Gene Wilder’s equally interesting memoir, Kiss Me Like a Stranger. After the two had been married for a few years, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and died, so reading the two memoirs gives a window into that experience from both perspectives.
One thing that made this story particularly striking to me is that I remember seeing Gilda Radner and Gene Wilder together, years ago. It was in a drugstore somewhere in New York City, I can’t remember where. I do remember that Gilda Radner was carrying a little dog (named Sparkle, I know now after reading these memoirs).
A very peculiar aspect of fame is the fact that strangers remember the most fleeting encounters with you; it’s astonishing, really, that I remember seeing the two of them, for just a moment, so long ago.
One reason that I remember this episode was that I remarked on how serious they both seemed. They were speaking in low, intense voices and looked solemn. “Well, maybe they’re only funny and light-hearted when they’re acting,” I thought. “Maybe that’s how famous comedians are in person. Or maybe they’re trying to be inconspicuous, because they’re famous.”
In fact, this might have been the very day that Gilda Radner got a terrible report from her doctor. When I intersected with them would’ve been about the same time that she was sick. What for me was an ordinary day, with the fun of a celebrity sighting, might have been one of the worst days of their lives.
This is an example of the fundamental attribution error, which Wikipedia defines as “the tendency for people to over-emphasize dispositional, or personality-based, explanations for behaviors observed in others while under-emphasizing situational explanations. In other words, people have an unjustified tendency to assume that a person’s actions depend on what ‘kind’ of person that person is rather than on the social and environmental forces influencing the person.”
I assumed that Gilda Radner’s and Gene Wilder’s behavior reflected their characters as celebrities and comedians and actors; it never occurred to me that their behavior might reflect something happening to them.
Which reminds me—I should always cut people slack; always assume that their irritability, or unfriendliness, or absent-mindedness, neither reflects their true nature nor has anything to do with me. In other words, don’t take things personally. As Henri-Frederic Amiel wrote,
Life is short and we never have enough time for the hearts of those who travel the way with us. O, be swift to love! Make haste to be kind.