For a few days, the Coldplay Jumbotron incident captured the spotlight in the headlines, much like the couple captured on camera encircled in each other’s arms, rocking blissfully back and forth to the smooth (and to some, romantic) crooning of frontman Chris Martin.
In the Before, they were like any typical couple, enjoying date night on warm July evening at Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts.
In the After, their faces magnified on the giant screen took on a deer-in-headlights quality. He ducked down and disappeared behind the railing; she covered her face and turned her back to the camera. Chris Martin, watching the drama unfold from the stage quipped, “Either they’re having an affair, or they’re just very shy.”
Nailed it, Chris. They were having an affair.
It didn’t take long for the internet to figure out that he was the CEO of a successful private data infrastructure and operations company, and she was his subordinate. The head of HR, no less. Both are married, but not to each other. In short order, his wife scrubbed her last name and photos of him from her social media accounts, and he was asked to resign.
Even though I enjoyed the spectacle and the witty memes that came out of the incident, the fact that the world got to witness the unraveling of two careers and two marriages in a span of less than ten seconds is unprecedented and unbelievably sad.
But the incident brought back memories of a discovery I made back in my early 1990s college days: an acquaintance through mutual friends had what seemed to be a long-term and very serious girlfriend, until one day I was introduced to his wife. Meaning that his wife was a different woman than his girlfriend. My jaw dropped to the floor and I’m sure I looked utterly confused as my mind slowly pieced together what was happening. He was married. His wife lived somewhere off campus, but while on campus, he was enjoying someone on the side. The shock of learning of the affair — a real affair, and not one in a movie — was like a punch to my then-naïve gut. Even worse was the swagger of the husband/boyfriend, who seemed perfectly fine with the arrangement. I always thought he must’ve known that I knew — but he never let on. Neither of us ever mentioned it to each other.
Sure, that was an isolated incident, but since then, I’ve become less naïve. I can come up with a laundry list of people I’ve known in real life as well as public figures who have behaved in ways that are at best unethical — at worst, illegal, and continue walking the earth with their chin held high and their shoulders back. Any one of us can name a celebrity, politician, or other public figure who has transgressed in a very public way and continues on as if nothing had happened.
So when I saw Mr. CEO hiding his face and Mrs. Human Resources turning bright red, I watched it as if I were spotting an unidentified object hovering over the earth’s atmosphere in an eerie green haze. It was as though I needed to squint and lean in just to recognize what I was seeing.
I was seeing shame. Actual embarrassment. Two humans who knew they were breaking the rules, rolled the dice, and got caught. They could’ve given each other a peck, smiled and waved at the camera, and none of us would be talking about them right now. But somewhere deep inside, these two knew that their affair was something to be hidden; that revealing it would cause a lot of pain to their loved ones. Caught off guard, they didn’t have time to robe themselves in bravado.
Seeing two people openly embarrassed … my goodness, it was kind of refreshing, actually. I don’t take pleasure from seeing the kind of embarrassment that comes from tripping on the stairs or getting mercilessly teased, but embarrassment for getting caught doing something that’s ill-advised, hurtful, and deceitful? I’m here for it. Pass the popcorn. I hope to see more of it. I hope this starts a trend of people publicly acknowledging that they’ve screwed up. I’d like for them not to make excuses, but to take it like a grown-up.
I don’t have to respect people for their bad choices, but I will admit I can respect people who make bad choices and at least have the decency (and dare I say humility), to not try to distract or deflect. Just stand there. Sure, duck your head, let your cheeks turn scarlet, but accept the consequences. You screwed up. You stood too close to the flame. As the saying goes, “If you don’t fall, how are you going to know what getting up is like?”
