You’ve seen Theresa May cry, but have you ever seen Donald Trump laugh?

It takes quite a bit to get a gasp from a newsroom. It didn’t look like Theresa May’s resignation statement had a chance, until the very last moment.

As is traditional, the tension ratcheted up as the lectern was hauled out into Downing Street. Reporters gathered under the TVs, the volume was turned up, the chatter paused. And, as is also traditional, the statement was greeted with an appropriate dose of cynicism, even the odd chuckle as the PM set out her meagre accomplishments.

But then came the sob.

Too often perhaps, the emotional cost of politics is ignored. We relish the historical tales of prime ministers suffering depression, popping pills or resorting to the bottle without really wondering what drove them to it, or considering how the current crop might be handling the pressure.

Thick-skinned stoicism is expected, and so it is remarkable when the veneer cracks. As May swallowed and turned swiftly back to No 10, startled hacks rushed to their desks. A resignation sparked by Brexit frustration had its defining image. Our job was then to balance the news value of a compelling moment against the gravity of the political chaos that surrounded it.

Across the Atlantic, the spell has long been broken of course. Donald Trump’s vainglorious petulance has trampled over whatever notions of presidential behaviour survived his campaign. It’s hard at first to imagine anything Trump does getting a gasp from reporters, only a resigned sigh. Even tears would seem strangely appropriate, if unlikely, from a man branded the “toddler-in-chief”.

But there is one thing Trump could do to spark incredulity from the press pack: laugh.

The former FBI director James Comey has claimed that he never once saw it, in public or in private. Comey was so thrown by the idea that after he was fired he admitted trawling video sites looking for evidence.

It is a curious anomaly of a presidency that seems built on anomalies alone. But in fact, there was one recorded laugh; a head-flung-backwards guffaw no less. It was a 2016 campaign event in New Hampshire, someone in the crowd compared Hillary Clinton to a dog – hardly the stuff of comedy legend, more cruel and dull, but enough to deliver that rarest of events.

Much of the comment about May’s speech centred on how it showed us a flash of humanity. In truth, it’s hard to know why we cry – self-pity? Regret? Frustration? Fury?

Laughter is a better window to the soul. And for Trump, that single offering is probably the only glimpse we’ll ever need.

Yours,

Joel Dimmock

Deputy Voices editor