The response to Lance Armstrong's admissions is ghoulish

If Americans are so invested in their sporting heroes that they are distraught when they turn out to be merely human then that's the nation's sickness, not just Armstrong's.

Last night more than three million people gazed at a man's eyes, waiting greedily to be the first to spot a tear. When he finally did break down, in describing the pain of admitting his crimes to his oldest son, the public reaction to his grief was glee.

Yes, Lance Armstrong lied. Worse, he also embarked upon bitter and unfounded lawsuits to maintain his lies. He was a bully to those around him, a hubristically unpleasant and arrogant man, and that is not to be defended: bullying is heinous. But – and this is the crux of the issue – we don't go after footballers with rape convictions with as much bile as we reserved for this man.

The Guardian's first words in the story covering last night's interview were therefore, "Lance Armstrong cried." The New York Times opened on "Amid tears." The New York Post did similar. So did ABC News. And Fox, E! Weekly. And the Daily Mirror. What is this obsession with tears? We saw it first in Britain after Princess Diana died – the national outpouring of grief that led to anger at those who were actually mourning at their failure to show weakness. What catharsis is it for the mob to see the strong break down and cry? What vindication does it represent?

Last night the words "public betrayal" was being thrown around, as if Armstrong had sold the nation out to its enemies instead of simply admitting to cheating. If I was a non-doping cyclist, I said on Twitter last night, then I would have been rightfully cross. But it looks as if those were pretty few and far between in Armstrong's era anyway.

I'll admit it: Armstrong was never my hero. I don't cry at sports games. Nor would I feel the victim of treason if, say, Bradley Wiggins or Jessica Ennis's performances in summer – which I enjoyed immensely – turned out to be spurious;  they would have been, to borrow a teachers' cliché, only letting themselves down. (I should point out that there is absolutely no reason to believe this might be the case.)

Yes, Armstrong started a charity by selling a narrative of sporting prowess that turned out not to be genuine. But he did genuinely overcome cancer to get there; moreover, Livestrong does and always did good work. What's honestly better – to tell the truth, and not save other lives, or lie to start a successful charity?

Moreover, there is something else at play than mere egotism. Sport is an industry in the US that so depends on such 'heroes' to sell products to the rest of us that they will turn a blind eye to almost anything, from doping to sexual violence unless it risks tarnishing their image – and pay them astronomical amounts of money to do so. Armstrong is set to lose more than $75m dollars in sponsorship money.

America, a young nation, idolises its heroes more much more than we British do. We look at ours with a sort of nostalgic fondness; just look at Michael Sheen's portrayal of Brian Clough, or Gary Lineker's self-deprecating advertising work for Walkers' crisps. We like a bit of weakness in our heroes; a touch of the bottle, maybe; a spot of darkness. America, in contrast, is the nation that invented the Hall of Fame: here, sporting heroes are golden calves to be worshipped unconditionally. That's why, when Armstrong or Tiger Woods turn out to be merely human, it hits fans so brutally, as a personal betrayal.

Armstrong has a tremendously long way to fall. But if Americans are so invested in their sporting heroes that they are distraught when they turn out to be merely human – egotistic, fame-hungry, and all the rest of it – then that's the nation's sickness, not just Armstrong's.

A man watches Lance Armstrong's interview with Oprah Winfrey in a bar in downtown Los Angeles. Photograph: Getty Images.

Nicky Woolf is a writer for the Guardian based in the US. He tweets @NickyWoolf.

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Former Labour leader Ed Miliband tells Jeremy Corbyn: "I would have gone"

Jeremy Corbyn's predecessor broke his long silence to say the leader's position was "untenable". 

The former Labour leader Ed Miliband has swung his weight behind the campaign to oust Jeremy Corbyn after describing his position as "untenable" and declared he would have resigned already.

His intervention is seen as significant, because since losing the general election in 2015, Miliband has taken a step back and refused to publicly criticise his successor. 

But the day after Labour MPs voted they had no confidence in Corbyn, the former leader has finally spoken. 

Miliband told BBC Radio 4's World at One that his position was "untenable". 

He said:

"We are at a time of acute national crisis, a crisis I haven't known in my political lifetime, probably the biggest crisis for the country since World War II.

"At that moment we in the Labour party need to think about the country.

"I've supported Jeremy Corbyn all the way along from the moment he was elected because I thought it was absolutely the right thing to do. A lot of what he stands for is very important. But I've relcutantly reached the conclusion that his position is untenable."

 

But with Corbyn already defying the opinion of most of his parliamentary colleagues, this alone is unlikely to have much effect. It's what Miliband says next that is crucial.

Corbyn has argued the vote of no confidence against him was unconstitutional. Miliband thinks otherwise. He said: "You are the leader of the Labour Party, the leader of the party in parliament and the leader of the party in the country. Some people are saying this is unconstitional. In our constitution it says if a fifth of MPs support another candidate there is another contest."

And he implied it should not even get to a leadership contest: "No doubt that will follow if Corbyn decides to stay. but the question then for him is what is the right thing for the country and the party and the causes he stands for."

Miliband also hit out at accusations of a conspiracy to oust Corbyn:

"I've never been called a Blairite. I'm not a plotter. I'm somone who cares deeply anpout this country, deeply about my party, deeply about the causes I think Jeremy and I care about. I think the best thing on all of those criteria is that he stands down."

Asked what he would have done in the same situation, he replied: "I would have gone.

"One of the reasons I'm speaking out is because of what people are saying about this proceess. If you look at the people saying Jeremy should go, it's not people on one wing of the Labour Party.

"I had my troubles with certain people in the Labour Party. Some of them ideological, some on other issues, but this is not ideological." Some of Corbyn's ideas could continue under a new leader, he suggested. 

Miliband shared his views just minutes after his former rival, the Prime Minister David Cameron, told Corbyn it was not in the national interest for him to remain as leader. "I would say, for heaven's sake man, go," he told the Opposition leader at Prime Minister's Questions. 

Although the Brexit vote was a devastating blow for the PM, the aftermath has unleashed equal waves of turmoil for the Labour Party.

Corbyn's refusal to resign sparked a series of resignations from the shadow cabinet. Unmoved, he replaced them. Meanwhile Momentum, Corbyn's grassroots political organisation, held a rally in support outside Parliament. 

On Tuesday, Labour MPs voted 172 to 40 in favour of a no confidence motion, which paves the way for a leadership challenge.

But Corbyn described the vote as unconstitutional and pledged he "would not betray" the Labour Pary members, who gave him a sweeping mandate in 2015.