Ted Lasso’s kindness isn’t what you think it is

For some Ted Lasso viewers, the titular character’s relentless kindness has always been suspect.

They wonder if the football turned fútbol coach is doing the bare minimum as a human yet being lavished with praise because we expect our male protagonists to be cruel or manipulative anti-heroes. Is Ted’s kindness evidence of his emotional immaturity? Perhaps he’s unflappably good-natured because he’s never wrestled with his inner darkness, which ultimately makes his thoughtful gestures hollow.

When Ted (played by Jason Sudeikis) finally shared the secret that’s haunted him for decades — his dad died by suicide when Ted was 16 — one critic said the revelation put the show on the verge of becoming “just another TV cliche.”

The latest episode of the hit Apple TV+ series has a surprising answer for the viewers who doubted the origins of Ted’s kindness — and a poignant breakthrough for its devoted fans.

“No Weddings and a Funeral,” the 10th episode of season 2, focuses on AFC Richmond owner Rebecca Welton (Hannah Waddingham), whose father apparently dies of natural causes in the episode’s opening minutes. As Ted dresses to attend the funeral, bopping to Phil Collins’ Easy Lover of all songs, a lingering look in the mirror and glimpse of his own son’s picture leads to a panic attack and a call to the team’s therapist, Dr. Sharon Fieldstone (Sarah Niles), to whom he recently disclosed his father’s suicide.

Soon, they’re sitting together in Ted’s apartment. He’s recounting the single gunshot that took his father’s life, how he opened the bedroom door to find his body. What Ted confesses will sound familiar to some suicide loss survivors. He hated that his father “quit” yet feels profound guilt for not saying more often that he was a good dad. He knows now that his father lived feeling like he’d somehow fallen short. This bewildering mix of anger, regret, longing, and heartbreak is why Ted lives by kindness, empathy, and generosity. He doesn’t want to ever miss that someone might be quietly struggling.

“I knew right then and there that nobody was ever going to get by me without understanding they might be hurting inside,” Ted tells Sharon.

Kindness is sacred to other suicide loss survivors, too. When Ronnie Walker lost her 21-year-old stepson to suicide, some months had passed when she returned home late one cold evening to find a tinfoil pan on her porch. A neighbor dropped by with the dish and left a note: “Ronnie, I wasn’t in town when [Channing] died, but I think of you all the time. I baked these brownies today and I just wanted to give them to you and tell you I love you.”

“Just trying to continue on and get through life hour by hour is an accomplishment in the beginning.”

Twenty-six years later, Walker still remembers the gesture. (Fans of Ted’s biscuit-making, albeit under much different circumstances, may see echoes of that good deed in his own actions.)

When Walker, a licensed clinical mental health counselor, founded a nonprofit organization for suicide loss survivors called Alliance of Hope, she made the first two words of its mission “kindness matters.”

“To survivors of suicide loss it matters a lot,” she says. They’re coming to terms with not only the devastation of their loss, but also the stigma they may encounter from others.

“Just trying to continue on and get through life hour by hour is an accomplishment in the beginning.”

Walker, who had not seen Ted Lasso prior to talking to Mashable, says that support from friends and loved ones typically peaks at about three weeks following a suicide loss, but then starts to ebb.

For loss survivors, the invisible wounds don’t heal so quickly: “This is the long haul, this is years — longer than anybody around is going to remember.”

The bereaved know firsthand how vital kindness is to someone grappling with suicidal feelings. They also know it’s life-affirming to receive when someone you love dies. While Ted focuses on intuiting other people’s suffering rather than explicitly paying forward any kindness shown to him in the wake of his father’s death (he never mentions how others responded), the empathy in both cases are branches of the same tree.

Dr. Stacey Freedenthal, Ph.D., an associate professor of social work at the University of Denver and a licensed clinical social worker who treats suicide loss survivors, says that channeling one’s energy into kindness by being more mindful of other people’s pain and circumstances can happen after a loss.

“It’s giving their loss meaning,” says Freedenthal, who hasn’t seen Ted Lasso. “I think it is post-traumatic growth because it’s changed them in a way where now they’re trying to help others, because of what happened to them.”

While the episode convincingly makes the case that Ted’s compassion isn’t manufactured or about emotional avoidance, it also doesn’t shy away from conflicting feelings.

When Ted admits that he hates his father for taking his own life, because he “quit on our family,” Sharon doesn’t correct his otherwise stigmatizing language. Freedenthal says that if a client uses similar phrasing with her, she gives them space to express their anger.

Over time, she may try to reorient the client’s idea of suicide away from a selfish act and toward the notion that it’s like getting swept up in a tornado. Suicidal thoughts, and the circumstances and conditions that cause them, happen to a person; they didn’t chose that pain or illness.

Then, the client can direct their anger toward whatever forces created or contributed to the person’s suicidal thoughts. Those factors can include persistent or untreated mental illness, oppression and discrimination, and hopelessness born of financial strain.

Freedenthal says that anger is a part of grief over any loss, but that it can become particularly complicated for loss survivors. The way the person’s life ended frequently overshadows the many different ways they lived, and some survivors remain stuck at the moment of their loved one’s death. That’s why Freedenthal tries to help clients reconnect with precious memories of their time together, even if it’s still painful.

Sharon tries a similar technique when she invites Ted to recall something he loved about his father. Resistant at first, Ted recalls a humorous, sweet story that is a testament to his father’s devotion.

But “No Weddings and a Funeral” is about more than just Ted’s experience. It ambitiously revisits the childhood traumas that wounded him, Rebecca, and Roy Kent (Brett Goldstein) to varying degrees. It is about fathers and father figures who leave, physically or emotionally, and the damage the abandonment leaves in its wake.

In a twist that viewers may or may not believe, Ted and Rebecca experienced their traumas on the same day, on Sept. 13, 1991. The connection, unknown to both characters though they share an unexpected mutual understanding, is a reminder of how heavy secrets weigh on those who hold them and the way people are unwittingly drawn together as a result. In the Ted Lasso universe, no one is ever truly alone even if two friends don’t fully understand what ails the other person. Of course, once Ted arrives at the funeral and sees Rebecca in distress, he summons the grace she needs to carry her through the moment.

An Apple spokesperson didn’t respond to questions about whether the show consulted suicide loss experts or incorporated writers’ or producers’ firsthand knowledge, but Ted Lasso creator Bill Lawrence recently said on Twitter that its storylines about mental health are informed by “lots of personal experience.”

While there may be critics of how the show handles Ted’s revelations — there are two more episodes this season for the writing to falter — it’s done something remarkable by portraying suicide loss with such complexity and sensitivity.

Suicide was the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S. in 2019. Chances are viewers have lost a loved one or know someone who’s lost someone. For a fish-out-of-water comedy purportedly about a professional soccer team, Ted Lasso has made visible the grief that loss survivors carry, and the empathy that gives them a reason to keep pushing forward. Perhaps the many rickrolling references in the episode are the writers’ way of winking to their audience about the bait-and-switch.

For Ronnie Walker, comfort can be found in Alliance of Hope’s digital support group, a forum available to loss survivors 24/7. She describes it as a sacred place of connection for an extraordinarily diverse community that’s guided by kindness. There, she says, participants and moderators maintain a healing culture, provide information about suicide loss, bear witness to people’s stories without judging or recoiling, and offer hope beyond just surviving.

“They need to be loved,” Walker says of suicide loss survivors. “They need to know that there are people there, that they are not alone.”

Ted Lasso would probably agree.

If you want to talk to someone or are experiencing suicidal thoughts, Crisis Text Line provides free, confidential support 24/7. Text CRISIS to 741741 to be connected to a crisis counselor. Contact the NAMI HelpLine at 1-800-950-NAMI, Monday through Friday from 10:00 a.m. – 8:00 p.m. ET, or email [email protected]. You can also call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. Here is a list of international resources.