Last week, a reader named Mr. Soul sent me an email:
I see that you have blogged extensively about what you
call “mental illness”–but you never use the word
“disability”–and have zero entries (in how many years
of blogging?) about disability or disability rights
politics. Do you think your dislike of using the term
disability, or the subject of disability itself (as
evidenced by the way you have consistently ignored the
topic) has to do with your fitness obsession, and the
way you conflate a healthy, fit body with godliness?
I’ll take it as a fair request, even though I think that there are some whopping and false assumptions behind the question he asks.
It’s true I don’t blog about disability issues. To be fair, I never intended this blog to be about all possible social justice issues. At its core, this blog reflects my own passions and interests, which tend to revolve around sexuality, gender, faith, and animal rights. I hardly ever blog about the Iraq war, for example, because I don’t think I have anything original to say on the topic. (My views are generally in line with those of, say, Dennis Kucinich, but he knows more about the topic than I.) The same is true of disability; it’s not something with which I am wholly unconcerned, but it is a topic about which I am sure I know less than many other fine bloggers.
Still, I do blog a lot about fitness. And at times, I admit, I do suggest that there is something inherently virtuous about paying close attention to diet and committing to regular exercise. Yes, I do believe that we are called to be both stewards of our bodies and stewards of the earth, and that — to me — means that what we eat and how we keep fit are issues of justice and responsibility.
Eating vegan (and whenever possible, eating “local”) is about taking responsibility for animals, for the earth, and for my own health. If I am to be of maximum service, I need to be as fit as possible. If my diet shortens my life, leaves me short of energy, and has me nauseated or depressed much of the time, then my food choices are holding me back from doing important work. If I eat such a big meal that I have to collapse into bed, leaving myself unavailable to my wife and friends, then my eating habits aren’t just hurting the planet, they’re hurting those to whom I am responsible. If I eat in such a way that I take years off of my life, then I steal from my future children time with their father. Heck, I won’t be a Dad until well into my forties — I have a moral responsibility to be fit, because being fit is one of the best guarantors I know that I will be around for my children as they grow.
So yes, I think that God calls us to eat justly and to keep our bodies fit. I do think vegetarianism (and better yet, veganism) is more than just one lifestyle choice among many: I think it’s a morally preferable choice because of its undeniable benefits both to the “eater” and the creatures of the earth who are not eaten. A meat-free, dairy-free, egg-free diet requires far fewer natural resources and far less land to maintain, and it involves far less cruelty to animals. A program of regular exercise keeps the body stronger, and thus more “available” to the world.
Mind you, it’s very easy to let exercise addiction become selfish. I work out much less than I would like. Left to my own devices, without outside commitments, I would happily train for an ultramarathon by logging 120-140 miles a week. I’ve got the build to do it, the determination to do it, the huge desire to do it — but it would eat into the time I spend with my wife, with my students, with my youth group, with my other (growing) volunteer activities, with my writing. I try and walk a thin line, one in which I maintain lifelong fitness (and get high on endorphins) without compromising my commitments to God and to His creatures. I’ve seen people abandon their families in order to run or bike or train for extreme fitness events; I understand the temptation to do so, but I cannot justify such single-mindedness.
I am absolutely convinced that working to live a healthy (or healthier) life is something virtually everyone can do, including those with severe disabilities. Those who are wheelchair bound or who face other huge physical challenges are no less fully human in my eyes — and I am deeply sorry if anything I have written has suggested otherwise. The ability to run marathons does not make me any more enlightened than someone who can’t walk. We are all called to do the best we can with what we have been given, and as the Paralympic Games have made clear, great fitness and profound disability are not as incompatible as we sometimes imagine. What matters is this: within the context of the choices we have, we ought to do whatever we can to gain or maintain health, with the caveat that that health ought not be bought at the cost of suffering inflicted on innocent creatures. (Hence my opposition to animal research.) What that specifically involves will look very different for different people, which is a very trite thing to say but is the most truthful and thoughtful thing I can contribute on the subject.
That sure was an unabashedly ableist response to Mr. Soul.
But anyways, I feel like you are assuming that people have much more control over their bodies than we really do. You could find out you have MS tomorrow. There goes the running career.
I think we all need something to fall back on, and the vanity driven culture that we live in, places more significance on the “able” body (the thin body, the white body, the male body, too). Our spiritual development, moral development, and social development often take a back seat to this emphasis on appearance.
Rachel, at the end of my life, I will gradually lose most of my control. I have spent a lot of time around the sick and the dying; I know that if autonomy is my highest goal (as I posted on a month ago) I will be crushed. Autonomy is not virtue:
http://hugoschwyzer.net/2007/03/19/tennyson-and-sharon-olds-ulysses-and-telemachus-a-very-long-post-about-endurance-athletes-independence-and-the-single-body-alone-in-the-universe-against-its-own-best-time/
The goal is not control. The goal is inspiring people to make the best possible choices in every instance; eating vegan and exercising (and the disabled are capable of both, with obvious limitations) are excellent choices. To the extent that we have choices — and some have more than others — we ought to make the ones that bring about minimum harm, maximize our quality of life, and help us be present to do the most good.
You’re right that we have some very skewed notions of what “fit” looks like. I don’t equate “fit” with “thin”, and am sorry if I have given that impression. I assure you, that my spiritual work and my volunteer work and my relationship work have all taken a toll on my appearance. But I am at the age where I can distinguish vanity and self-obsession from the pursuit of overall health.
Mr Soul, from my understanding, is a disabled man. He’s commented on some of my threads in the past. I just feel uncomfortable with a response to him that follows that “fitness ideology.” When a question about disability ends up being a discussion about “choices” people make, it takes away from the larger issue of discrimination against the disabled.
It’s kind of like a discussion on racism that ends up admonishing people of color to make better choices or a discussion of sexism that tells women to make better choices.
I don’t want to discount choices–I don’t want people to smoke or eat Mc Donalds everyday, but the issue of disability is so much broader than that.
Moreover, I think we live in a society that connects masculinity to physicality, and I think that would be a very good discussion to have with regard to this topic.
I couldn’t agree more with you, Hugo–the popular saying that “your body is a temple” applies, especially if we assume that it’s a temple in which we want God to reside and help us shine His light into the world. I think that this understanding is not necessarily connected to a fully-functioning physicality, but more to a well-cared-for physicality which is able to function to the best of its abilities (there is your dis/abilities point). One can’t shine a light through dirty windows, in other words.
One of the questions I’ve been struggling with are the eating regulations in the Hebrew Bible (OT), including which parts of cows one should eat, etc.. How do you resolve this question for yourself? It’s often used as a justification that “we’re meant to be carnivores.”
As to Rachel: I find the connection between masculinity and physicality very interesting, especially since “older” feminist discourse links femininity with physicality and does so at the expense of structured thought. Of course, then, we are operating with two different definitions of physicality here: the idealized physicality of Michelangelo’s David (for example) vs Cixous’ “Dark Continent” miasmic feminine physicality. Or aren’t we?
I assure you, that my spiritual work and my volunteer work and my relationship work have all taken a toll on my appearance.
Maybe I am missing the point of this sentence, but how can those things take a toll on one’s appearance?
I didn’t get the sense that Hugo’s response was ableist. Our host’s perspective is that of someone who obviously derives pleasure and fulfillment from pushing his body to the limit, but his response was hardly dismissive of those who faced extra challenges due to disability.
Certainly one would expect a question about physical challenges posed to a vegan runner/athlete to enter into the realm of diet, exercise and choices.
Charlotte, there’s a Mishnah tradition I’m trying to track down (Treifalicious brought it up in an old thread) that says that meat eating is a concession, not a command, made to people who couldn’t abandon meat altogether.
Tyler, I was in better shape when my narcissisim was reflected in much more time in the gym than i spend now. I like being fit, and my fitness makes me more effective, but the world doesn’t need me to have ripped arms. In that sense, choosing other priorities has had a toll.
Tyler, I was in better shape when my narcissisim was reflected in much more time in the gym than i spend now. I like being fit, and my fitness makes me more effective, but the world doesn’t need me to have ripped arms. In that sense, choosing other priorities has had a toll.
Makes perfect sense when you put it that way.
I totally misunderstood what you were saying - I thought that you meant that those other activities were so stressful that they were taking a toll (which didn’t seem right given your obvious enthusiasm for such non-athletic activities).
Assigning a moral value to my health, fitness and appearance is something I’ve worked very hard to stop doing. A professor doesn’t need to exercise regularly to do their job well, and being less strong and less quick because you’re bored to death on a treadmill is no less likely to make someone a bad professor than someone’s cystic fibrosis standing in the way of their physical fitness is. (And really, it’s not like you only have a choice between excellent physical fitness and pathetic sluggishness. Overweight people might sometimes overeat to the point that they “collapse into bed,” but it’s not like this is going to happen every day. And unless you believe that a person is entitled to no time to themself, who are any of us to decide what people do with their down time?) I’m just not buying that one’s body can be an accurate barometer of their goodness - even if you’ll control for disabilities in your assessment - or that there aren’t myriad other ways of achieving our spiritual and moral and personal goals. For instance, the weight I’m at makes it more likely that I’ll acquire diabetes, or that I’ll have problems with heart disease in the future. On the other hand, experience has taught me that dieting makes me a crazy person, and I just can’t do it and be happy. I need a certain level of personal comfort and self-regard to be able to do the things I want to do. Being unable to leave the house due to a fit of fat paranoia is going to do a lot more to disable me than getting winded after climbing a few flights of stairs.
Sara, do you accept the notion that we are called to steward our bodies, not to please men or the culture, but to increase our potential for a long, healthy life where we can be of maximum service?
Assigning a moral value to my health, fitness and appearance is something I’ve worked very hard to stop doing
I have to work within my limitations of time, budget, and genetics, and given those limitations I’m never going to be running a marathon. (Nor am I inclined to do such a thing.) I do take care of myself as best I can within my limitations, but I’m never going to look like I am, and people will continue to make judgements about my morality based on that. That’s just the way it is. But then again, it’s not about putting your morality on display, is it? IMO that’s the important disconnect to make…
And I basically agree with you, Hugo, that we should take care of ourselves as best we can, but there are plenty of ways to serve God that don’t involve marathons. (Thank goodness!)
Re: OT dietary restrictions (and the rest of the old law, too) — doesn’t Galatians 3:24-25 indicate otherwise?
>>Charlotte, there’s a Mishnah tradition I’m trying to track down (Treifalicious brought it up in an old thread) that says that meat eating is a concession, not a command, made to people who couldn’t abandon meat altogether.
Taking the biblical text at face value, God only grants people permission to eat meat following the Flood (Genesis 9:3) - there’s an implication that permission to eat animals is an acknowledgement or concession to human weakness. The Noachide covenant requires that meat *not* be taken from living animals, but doesn’t require that meat be eaten.
The laws of slaughter in Exodus and Deuteronomy are generally understood as negative commandments - the Israelites are prohibited from eating certain species and animals that have not been properly slaughtered - not as positive commandments requiring the consumption of meat.
There’s a story in the Talmud, Tractate Baba Metzia, in which Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi is punished by God for telling a runaway animal, “Go back to be slaughtered, for this is what you were created for.” The rabbis understand this as teaching us that animals were not created for human consumption, but rather that God later decided to give people permission to eat animals, which apparently had been created for some other purpose or reason.
Thanks, Kate, that’s very helpful!
Rachel: “Moreover, I think we live in a society that connects masculinity to physicality, and I think that would be a very good discussion to have with regard to this topic.”
Rachel, thanks for getting it. Blue (at GIMP PARADE) got it, too. If Hugo is a feminist or pro-feminist, it seems he would understand that this is where I was hoping this discussion would go, regarding masculinity and ability (what the postmods like to call “gendered disability”)… but alas, Hugo prefers one of those “non-reply replies” that you get from bureaucrats in Washington press conferences.
Hugo, is there some reason you totally ignored my mental health question? (Rhetorical. Actually, I do know why. I just want everyone else to see it, too.)
And BTW, I have been a vegetarian for decades.
Mr. Soul, I’m not trying to dodge anything. This entry was worked out over time and with a great deal of thought. Clearly, it fell short of the mark.
If we want to have a discussion about defining identity through what we are able to do as opposed to who we are — then I’m up for that. I didn’t think that was where I was supposed to go; a lack of imagination on my part.
I also assumed that the question about disability was about physical disability, not mental illness. As my posts last year in defense of my bipolar colleague, Yves Magloe, made clear, I am passionate about defending the rights of those who struggle with mental illness. It is, of course, a disabling condition.
I’m delighted you’re a vegetarian, Mr. Soul.
You write: “I also assumed that the question about disability was about physical disability, not mental illness.”
Then you say “It is, of course, a disabling condition.”
Well, which is it? Is mental “illness” not a disability, too? Why isn’t it? And why do you dislike USING THE WORD? (And how long is it an “illness” before it gets to cross over into “disability”) That was my question.
Your disability-phobia (illustrated by fear of using the word, applied to yourself or other people with your own disability) is part and parcel of your fitness-worship. I am interested in whether the two can ever NOT go together–so far, never met a jock or fitness addict who wasn’t disability-phobic also.
I personally prefer the term “psychological disability” or “mental disability” to the nebulous and murky term “mental illness”. And there is NO SHAME in using either term, unless you think disability itself is shameful.
“I am absolutely convinced that working to live a healthy (or healthier) life is something virtually everyone can do, including those with severe disabilities”
Well, I agree with rachel and Mr. Soul - wow, what an ablist post - kind of like responding to a question about feminism by talking about the many different men’s club you belong to.
I do agree that many/most Christians believe as you post above, perhaps that is why there are so few people with degenerative disabilities who stay in Churches (at least where I am) - Hmmm, did my friend on a ventilator (now dead) work to ensure she had a healthier life? Well, she really wanted to get off that ventilator, but she kept getting psnumonia - guess she didn’t focus enough, or eat enough carrots? While many people with terminal disabilities do take control of their lives, I think it the knowledge that the person has the choice IN SPITE that the ability to get better or healthier is beyond is how they do it.
And disability is pretty important to women too - since more women with disablities get sexually abused and raped than AB’s and yet more are seen in society (particularly chaired) as sexless.
Actually, I fail to see how your committment to fitness has anything to do with disability or disability rights. You are priviledged in having control over your health, as other have pointed out. You seem to be implying that people who have disabilities are somehow failing in their moral duty to keep fit.
–IP