A close reading of all those images of brokers with their hands on their faces.

Hand-on-cheek action is a scream for help among BWHHOHFs. It suggests things have spun out of the broker’s control, and he is unsure of what to do next. So, he has nothing to do but to stand there, waiting for someone to wake him from his stupor. You’ll note that it’s rare to see a BWHHOHF who is determined to buck the downward trend. This isn’t because that brand of BWHHOHF doesn’t exist—surely he does in some remote enclave. We don’t know they exist because newspaper editors don’t allow us to see them. Art directors think that we want to see pain, panic, and confusion, because that’s what we, the general public, are feeling.

The Theist

Often, the weight of hands on skin weighs a BWHHOHF’s head down. This, in turn, causes the neck to relax, which tilts the head back, looking toward the sky. When photographed, the position connotes a plea for supernatural intervention. As we wonder how to put food on the table, send the kids to college, and pay the health bills, we also are inclined to turn to an otherworldly force. The pictures of the Theist suggest we shouldn’t be ashamed to seek God in a time of crisis. To the Theist, there is only one force greater and larger than the markets.

The Anonymous

Conveniently, the hand-on-face trope often helps obscure brokers’ identities. This, in turn, makes them more recognizable; it strips their unique characteristics—and makes them look like anybody else we may know with a giant PDA in his hands. Their pain stops being unique to a NYSE broker and starts being relatable. It’s possible that we look similar when gazing into our BlackBerrys. It’s the same kind of technique that department stores use with headless mannequins. Stripping the mannequin of its face means that we can imagine ourselves in that outfit. Stripping the broker of his face means we, too, want to place our hands on our faces, bemoaning all that is wrong with the economy.