The self-care industry is peddling exhausting, dangerous drivel The Guardian | comment is free | 7 May 2018
Today, like every other day, before I had even had breakfast I had already absorbed a lot of information about how to live for ever. So has everyone else. On my way to the shops, several pavement pounders almost charged into me, and they were, I note, all plugged in and checking their devices, apparently monitoring their run. Permanent monitoring is the new job of modern life and seems exhausting. One must monitor one’s calories, steps and sleep pattern just for starters. The goals are ever-shifting: first there was clean eating, then came clean sleeping. Now we’re in the era of clean feelings, with the rise of emotional hygiene. When you are not flossing your teeth, you should be flossing your mind, getting rid of pesky emotions such as anger or self-doubt. Write them down. Reorder them. Cleanse your brain. These instructions are everywhere and predominantly aimed at women. All the health advice in the world could be boiled down to: eat less, move more, don’t smoke and hope for the best. But that’s not enough for a book, still less a TV programme or an app. And so we’re constantly offered variations on this stuff. One day, we’re told to exercise to prevent cancer; the next, how to exercise when you have cancer. And on it goes, as exercise is no longer only about the body, but is also said to be good for cognitive function and mental health. No one would dispute that this discovery is life-changing for many. But, really, give all the advice a rest. The explosion of self-care advice doesn’t operate in a void, with its suggestion that we are all atomised and individually caring for our own bodies and psyches. It operates in a world where we are in a crisis of actual care: caring for others is low-paid and low-status work, and mental health services are at breaking point. Audre Lorde’s formulation of self-care as an act of radical self-preservation was echoed by fellow writer and activist Angela Davis. They both understood that many black women who organised politically had to work and look after kids, and therefore had no time, ever, for themselves. Obesity and diabetes are related to poverty. Depression can be too and, yes, of course a more holistic approach is needed, but self-care is pumped out everywhere, often with no clear purpose except to achieve some Instagrammable, Zen-like state. Gratitude is more becoming than rage. We should strive to be thankful and positive, and therefore in control. We should be using our commute to find five beautiful things, we should hang out with people who radiate energy instead of drain it. We should have things called a “self-date”. Clearly, I am beyond this. I have stood myself up too often to bother. This advice is a kind of keep-calm-and-carry-on gloss. It is an illusion that perhaps works for young people in a stressful world. Strive to be healthy, sure, but sometimes shit happens. Half of us will get cancer and it’s not because we once ate a sausage sandwich. Many of us will have issues with anxiety and depression, and it’s not because we didn’t love the trees enough or perform endless mini-declutters. We should look after ourselves better – we know this. It’s why we don’t do it that is the complicated bit. Middle-class people telling working-class people how to live better, preaching self-care, boasting of their own tedious regimes doesn’t seem to me – how can I put this? – very caring.
