Houston Chronicle Sunday

There’s more to wellness than meets the eye

Cultural concern with aesthetics, purity helps drive industry

- By Tara Isabella Burton Tara Isabella Burton is the author of “Social Creature: A Novel” and “Strange Rites: Cults and Subculture­s After the Death of God.” She has a doctorate in theology from the University of Oxford.

Last week, novelist Jessica Knoll wrote a scorching op-ed in the New York Times devoted to taking down the wellness industry.

Reflecting on a lifetime of “counting macros, replacing rice with cauliflowe­r pellets, 13-day cleanses, intermitte­nt fasting and an eliminatio­n diet that barred sugar, dairy and nightshade­s like potatoes,” Knoll argued that wellness at its core is simply a purificati­on of our collective obsession with feminine aesthetics: diet culture and vanity repurposed as moral axioms.

After all, Knoll wrote, so often wellness culture boils down to one simple, inconvenie­nt truth: “Thin is healthy and healthy is thin.”

Certainly, wellness culture’s $4.2 trillion market — fun fact: globally, we spend half as much on wellness as we do on actual health care — is largely the province of women, and the rhetoric of functional self-improvemen­t is inextricab­le from its concern with aesthetics.

But to talk about wellness exclusivel­y as a code-word for diet is to overlook wellness culture’s provenance not just in old-school beauty tips, but in old-school spirituali­ty. The language of wellness isn’t just coded diet culture. It’s also encoded with religious promise.

Wellness culture may not have an establishe­d creed, but it has an implicit metaphysic. Energy — nebulously defined — runs through all things. This energy can be good or bad, depending on a variety of factors, but it’s definitely more than a little supernatur­al.

Just look at (where else?) Goop, actress and haute-wellness pioneer Gwyneth Paltrow’s wellness empire. Many of Goop’s projects seem designed not just to improve physical health (or appearance), but to tap into this wider network of “good” versus “bad” energy.

In recent years, for example, Goop has promoted a $185 Nepalese singing bowl, traditiona­lly a meditation aid; a $175 “Bel Ritual Candle” that chimes as it melts and offers a grounding, energy clearing experience; $40 Tarot cards; and a $27 elixir that calls itself “Psychic Vampire Repellent” not for real vampires, but those who drain your positive energy. (Among its ingredient­s are “a unique and complex blend of gem elixirs,” as well as reiki, sound waves, moonlight, love, (and) reiki charged crystals, according to its labeling.

Goop’s hardly an outlier here. Wellness culture is about more than beauty. It’s about something even more complicate­d: purity.

In her 1966 book, “Purity and Danger,” anthropolo­gist Mary Douglas explores what she sees as the fundamenta­l human root of religious observance: the separation of the “pure” from the “impure,” and in particular the establishi­ng of clear and fundamenta­l categories for human cognition: this goes here, this goes there. What is dirt, after all, she famously posits, but matter out of place?

The sacred and the taboo occupy an interestin­g, if uncomforta­ble, place in this paradigm. Things that are sacred don’t fit into any part of “normal” life (the Hebrew root word for holy is literally set-apart); things that are taboo also address realities our society doesn’t have ready language for.

Wellness culture, in our increasing­ly fractured age, takes up some of the burden of defining categories that seem ever more uncertain. At a time when we’re not sure whether technology, genetic modificati­on or even the chemicals in our face cream are advancemen­ts or ruinous, wellness culture steps in with its framework of purity and pollution to pronounce them bad or good. It tells us not just how to look; it tells us how to live meaningful­ly.

In his 1958 “Structural Anthropolo­gy,” Levi-Strauss gives the example of a South American shaman who sits at the bedside of a pregnant woman. While she struggles with labor pains, the shaman recites an old myth — known to the woman — of warring gods in her belly, shadow and light fighting for dominance. Once the woman’s pain is put in terms that she can understand, Levi-Strauss argues, she suffers less.

On the Goop website, Paltrow-approved specialist Dr. Alejandro Junger, founder of the Clean Program and bestsellin­g author of “Clean,” provides us with a similar modern myth.

“There is another “inconvenie­nt truth” still hidden from popular awareness,” he writes. “Global warming is just a symptom. At the root of it is global toxicity, the build-up of chemicals that is threatenin­g all life on earth. The air we breathe, the water we drink and shower with, the buildings we live and work in, and most of all, the foods we eat, are loaded with chemicals that alone or in combinatio­n cause irritation, inflammati­on, sickness and, ultimately, death.”

The solution Junger holds out is a detox plan that will help our overwhelme­d systems right themselves when combined with “skin brushing,” meditation, saunas and sunshine.

It’s a cure any one of us can buy into. And it’s a story that just might take away some of our pain.

 ?? Neilson Barnard / Getty Images ?? Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop wellness empire focuses on products designed to improve physical health and tap into “good” energy.
Neilson Barnard / Getty Images Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop wellness empire focuses on products designed to improve physical health and tap into “good” energy.

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