In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set || First feminist blog on the internet

Naomi Wolf to the Front Desk with a Two-by-Four, Stat!

Anthony Citrano responded to my follow-up post about eating disorders. No, actually, I take it back. He offered a non-response, and then he let me know that he would not be responding any more:

It’s a bit frustrating that you have missed my thesis entirely, while claiming you know it.

In your second comment herein, you actually say the same thing that you eviscerated me for saying – that non-anorexic women are being called anorexic out of “punishing and jealousy.”

If I can gain anything from your putting a great deal of your own words into my mouth, I hope it’s that you and your readers will take a few minutes to read my piece and give it a fair shake.

The anorexia bullshit is a perfect example of the cognitive biasing power of “availability heuristics” – that is, the perceived danger of a given threat is fueled more by its dramatics than its facts. While I admit to a touch of cartooning (as is my lifelong style to get my point across,) my goal is to bring more facts than drama to the issues I take on.

Anyway, like I said to Jill, I do appreciate the discourse, even if we disagree. Thanks.

And then:

I tried to engage you constructively, but you insist on changing the subject, misinterpreting what I’ve said, then (in violation of any civilized rules of debate) going ad hominem. My doing so with you would be too easy.

So instead, I’ll move on, and hope that you eventually shed the anger and explore my points with a clear and open mind.

And by the way, thanks for helping me finally figure out what it is I find so hot about Hatcher. It had been bugging me.

Oh, please don’t tune me out! I’ll modulate my tone, I promise. I didn’t mean to get angry! I’ll be good! And please, please, please don’t insult me! I don’t know if I’d ever recover! I’d probably start purging!

Let me lay it out for you, Anthony–or, rather, for myself; you were never listening. Were you open-minded, you would have encountered and taken pains to understand all of these critiques of your argument long before we started talking.

An eating disorder–the actual condition–is defined by self-hatred projected upon the body. Like I said, the body and the control forced upon it are usually symbolic of a need to control one’s life or self. It isn’t exactly about the body, although the body isn’t chosen at random.

An eating disorder as defined by our culture is typified by denial of appetite resulting in emaciation: “delicacy” taken just a wee bit too far. The changes it causes in the body are not considered negative until they reach the far extreme: the skeleton, the corpse. The damage it does to the psyche, and the underlying pain it represents, are not considered particularly important unless and until the sufferer is extremely unstable.

This culture does not have any problem either with denial of appetite or extreme thinness in women. We think both of those things are pleasing and admirable. Our beauty ideal is defined by the latter, which necessitates the former. Teri Hatcher may or may not have an eating disorder; however, she has a body that cannot be arrived at through any regimen that isn’t obsessive and unfeasible. Women are taught to emulate Teri Hatcher. We do not look at Teri Hatcher and see someone doing something wrong or freakish. We see someone on the cover of Mademoiselle. (Remember, too, that being a sex symbol is not necessarily a ticket to uncomplicated prestige. Teri’s desirable, not desired.)

This is why our culture is confused about anorexia, and why you engaged in such a disastrous misreading of the anorexia “slur.” We do not have a definition of anorexic pathology apart from the level at which it becomes fatal–a level that most eating-disorder sufferers never reach. That is the point at which the cultural understanding of anorexia begins to distinguish itself from our ideal of beauty and fitness, not before. Apart from that, we have no concept of when self-hatred, body obsession, and rigid control are understood to be bad things for women. We have not drawn a practical line beyond which a woman is unhealthily invested in her body.

So when a woman derides another woman for “anorexia,” she is not saying, “Goddamnit! How dare she be thin! She must have an eating disorder, and how pathetic is that! Cheater! Crazy bitch!” She is saying, “I wish I looked more like the ideal!” She speaks with the understanding that most people who manage the ideal are people whose diets are profoundly disordered. She understands as well that as far as everyone else is concerned, there’s nothing wrong with a woman who hates herself. She understands, finally, that her appearance outweighs everything else about her–will, in fact, be taken for her (“knows how to say no to herself”). There is no moderation compatible with that.

The damaging aspect of anorexia doesn’t enter into the calculus. It’s a brutally efficient way for normal girls to get skinny, full stop. She’s not jealous of thinness. She’s jealous of the women “like her” who’ve gotten hooked up with the best diet regimen ever. And make no mistake: she is not underestimating the severity of the changes anorexia wreaks on the body or the desperation it would involve. She is not looking towards “reasonable” self-denial.

Now, as far as this “availability heuristics” bullshit: no, not so much. We don’t over-focus on the deaths because we think anorexia is a scourge of youth or because we don’t want to talk about obesity. We focus on them because we don’t want to deal with what disordered eating actually is. We don’t want to deal with the far more common, far less dramatic, far less freakish symptoms most sufferers display, or with an understanding of eating disorders more nuanced than mortality. That would involve looking at a cultural understanding of women’s “health and fitness” that puts anorexia nervosa on a continuum with “healthy” self-perception and eating habits. In other words, looking at you:

My personal offhand estimate had been that we might lose about 100 Americans annually to anorexia. My research this morning showed that I was not far off – a 2001 study by the University of British Columbia’s Department of Psychology of every American death for the most recently available five year period showed only 724 people with anorexia as a causal factor – 145 per year. Christina Hoff-Sommers, in her research for the book Who Stole Feminism, came up with a number below half that. In a presentation to the International Congress of Psychology, one expert (Dr. Paul Hewitt) estimated a death rate for anorexia of 6.6 per 100,000 deaths. Even if you assume that sufferers outnumber deaths by a few orders of magnitude, it would still seem that all objective evidence shows the health impact on Americans from anorexia is statistically nil. Now, I know that doesn’t make for very good shock journalism, but it doesn’t change the uncomfortable fact that it’s true.

With a few more recipes, and a little more carrot than stick, this could be copy for any women’s magazine:

I know several girls whom others consider “anorexic” because they are very lean and don’t have emblematic American appetites. They are in fact not anorexic; but they are more cautious about their intake than most. They are vibrant, healthy, and adequately nourished; they can even run a couple of miles at a good pace. And that’s much more than most Americans can say.

So, please, ladies – the girl who has the body the rest of you wish you had is not anorexic. The girl who delicately refuses the eighteen-ounce wedge of deep-fried cheesecake the rest of you dive into after dinner is not anorexic. The girl who is obsessed with fitting back into those size 1 jeans is not anorexic. She’s just thinner than you, knows how to say no to herself, and it makes you jealous.

Girls, girls, you can both be pretty!

You’re this patronizing, and this shallow, and you expect people not to get angry? You started out oblivious, and you’ve clearly decided to stay that way. Why would it bother me that you feel insulted? At least you can read something right.

Nervosa Revisited

Keenie commented on my anorexia nervosa post, and I wanted to respond in full. Also, I need to post something, don’t I?

I understand the point you are making, but there seems to be, even in the language of it, the need to distance yourself from the fat.

Not at all. And don’t ever assume that someone with an eating disorder or disordered history is has no firsthand experience with being fat. I wrote this in part to dispute the equation of “severely disordered” with “living skeleton.”

Did you read Jill’s original post? The article she and I were responding to was about how society supposedly demonizes the thin and glorifies the chubby (yes, that was his actual thesis). His evidence was the ostracization of anorexics, as represented by the jealous sniping at skinny girls and the “She’s so anorexic!” cliche. Apparently, the fact that women fear anorexia is merely proof of their laziness–anorexics are admirable! Anorexia is merely proper restraint taken too far! Women should be disgusted by fat people, not thin people! We could all use a little anorexia!

I wrote this to explain that while anorexia nervosa must be read in the context of a body-obsessed, fat-phobic culture, anorexia is not about being too thin. In other words, it’s not that you’re fit and then slender and then svelte and then a little underweight and then–oops!–you cross the line into anorexia. That was the calculus the writer of the article was working under: if you weigh eighty pounds and subsist on 500 calories a day, you’re anorexic; if you weigh one-ten and subsist on 1200, you’re necessarily, objectively less afflicted. And if you’re overweight, you clearly need to spend more time hating yourself for eating.

That was what I meant by “inverted obesity.” As far as this argument is concerned, anorexia is to restraint as obesity is to indulgence: the effect of a behavior that’s positive in moderation, inseparable from the impulse that drives one to go hiking on the weekends or to the salad bar at lunch.

That’s a standard that will perpetuate a lot of misery. An eating disorder isn’t defined by your BMI; you don’t become disordered when you’ve dropped a certain amount of weight. It’s defined by self-hatred as expressed in an irrational relationship to food and eating. There are eating disorders that keep you relatively normal, eating disorders that cause your weight to cycle, eating disorders that cause you to gain weight, and eating disorders defined by exuberant physical health. Their defining characteristic is a life bound up in controlling and punishing the body. There is a qualitative difference between that mindset and a healthy one.

I would venture that most people with eating disorders are invisibly ill–particularly since our society encourages women to relate to their bodies in unhealthy ways. That’s why it was so offensive to me to hear someone arguing that anorexia is dangerous only to the body, and that it exists as a social ill only when the body is threatened. By that standard, I was never sick.

No, it’s not. But it isn’t a suffering contest. There are control issues, psychological and physical suffering that go along with being fat (obese, whatever) as well. It isn’t and it IS about the fat. This goes for obesity too. Fat girls have the added shame of being on the wrong side of the ‘Everybody loves a skinny girl’, and a walking neon sign of your inner problems.

Who’s trying to impose a contest on this discussion? Of course all of those things apply to being fat as well, and of course fat people are pressured to define themselves by their bodies in many of the same destructive ways. In a culture that hates fat bodies and fat people, it would be difficult if not impossible to be aware of that hatred.

Joel Stein on Gender

…sort of. He starts out talking about how he’s not exactly the manliest man, and enlisted some outside help to get in touch with his Y chromosome.

To stem the tide, I had lunch with Norah Vincent, a former L.A. Times columnist who spent more than a year undercover as a man for her new book, “Self-Made Man: One Woman’s Journey Into Manhood and Back Again.” One of the tips she apparently failed to pick up from my gender was to not use so many words.

Still, if anyone knew how to butch someone up, it was Vincent. So I took her to lunch in New York and asked for some advice.

Right away, Vincent, a 5-foot-10 lesbian, noticed that my handshake was neither strong nor assertive. Also, my eyes were too gentle. “That’s a sign of weakness. That will not get you women,” she said. “Make your eyes harder. When you look at people, think mean thoughts.” She was making the last part easy.

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Blog Crush

All the nerdy kids have ’em. Mine is on the spinster aunt, and this post is so good that I’m reproducing it in its entirety. OMG Twisty I luuuuuv u!

Go read, comment, and blame at Twisty’s pad.

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Greetings from Chalmette, La.

Hi there — just a quick drop-in to let you know that I’m in Louisiana, at the base camp from where my Habitat group is operating to gut houses in St. Bernard Parish. I don’t get much internet time, so I have to make this quick.

Very hard work, very tiring day. The homeowner was at the site where my group was working, and the house had already been half-gutted by another team when we showed up. Lots of moldy drywall and dust-choked carpet to take out. I didn’t think we’d finish, but we did, with the exception of one tile wall.

I’m off to the airport to pick up someone who missed her plane Sunday. I myself lost my wallet between the apartment and the airport, but luckily had thought to bring my passport. And also luckily, my neighbor found the wallet and slipped a note under my door, which my catsitting friends found today.

More later.

“Sexist, Egotistical, Lying, Hypocritical Bigot Edition”

“9 to 5” is finally coming out on DVD!

Years after being fired for refusing to sleep with her boss, Jane Fonda — empathizing with harassed women everywhere — developed a popular 1980 film called 9 to 5, about sexism in the workplace.

The comedy arrives on DVD Tuesday (Fox, $20) in what is being marketed as the “Sexist, Egotistical, Lying, Hypocritical Bigot Edition,” with commentary from stars Fonda, Lily Tomlin and Dolly Parton.

Calling from her Atlanta home before catching a plane to L.A., thrice-married Fonda, 68, chuckles when asked whether she has experienced sexism since making the film. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she says, aghast. Sexism, she says, is something she has experienced in “my marriages. Maybe that’s why I’m not married anymore.”

And this is why we love La Parton:

Mishearing a question about unwanted sexist encounters, Parton says, “I’ve only had sexual encounters that I’ve wanted. But not as many as I’d like,” then laughs when the question is clarified.

After all, Parton went right from 9 to 5 to shooting The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, “and I made a better whore than I did a secretary.”

Parton, who says she grew up in a family of sexist men, often jokes about her rarely seen real-life husband, Carl Dean, but she turns uncharacteristically sentimental when asked if he is a sexist. “In all seriousness, I have a very fine husband — a true gentleman who respects women,” says Parton.

What pisses me off about this article is that there is way more attention paid to the stars’ relationships and marriages than to their accomplishments. After all, 9 to 5 was a movie about women in the workplace, and you can’t tell me that even these three haven’t experienced sexism since the film came out.

Nervosa

So, as you know, Jill put up an interesting post about ED and obesity, and I wanted to reply.

I had an eating disorder for a little over five years. I exercised compulsively. I starved myself. I binged and purged (by the time I was nearly through, my tolerance for food was so low that a normal meal constituted a binge, and any food on my stomach nauseated me). I abused laxatives and caffeine.

While I was thin, I was never skeletal. Although there were days I did not eat at all, and days on which I consumed a few hundred calories, I never suffered cardiac arrest or kidney failure or any of the other massive destabilizations by which eating-disorder sufferers are threatened. I looked good: slender, strong, and very much in control of my health. A little pale, a little anxious, a little wired, but well.

People with eating-disorders can be painfully thin; at the extremes of anorexia nervosa, they always are. Some people with eating disorders are overweight, and some are at normal weight. Some people with eating disorders look absolutely perfect; there’s even a new term to describe someone who’s unhealthily obsessed with healthy eating: orthorexia.

Eating disorders can kill you; the fatality rate for anorexia is estimated at twenty-five percent. They can ruin your health permanently or for years into the future of recovery. Those dangers are significant, and I don’t want to sound as though I ignore them.

But an eating disorder is not exactly about eating or not eating. The severity of an eating disorder cannot be measured either by the degree of starvation or its attendant dangers.

An eating disorder is about hating oneself so much that one is compelled to embark on a program of self-punishment and self-erasure. A person with an eating disorder decides that she and her life are inadequate. She fixes on her body as a site of that inadequacy. She will fix her body, control her body, perfect her body, and thereby fix, control, and perfect everything else. There are several theories for this choice; I agree with all of them.

Feminist theorists argue that women are more likely to become obsessed with their bodies because they are already taught to see them as all-important. This would seem to make sense, given that eating disorders are even more prevalent among people of both genders whose bodies are a big part of their lives: athletes, dancers. There is also the issue of potential: a woman, particularly a young woman, might feel that her body is the only thing she has any sovereignty over. There is also the bodily resonance of some of the stressors: adolescence, sexuality and sexual abuse.

There are twin additional components to this choice that are particularly appealing to people who hate themselves. First of all, the substitute goal must be an irrational one. It cannot actually have anything to do with making one feel better about oneself, or making one’s life more interesting, or accessing sources of joy and comfort. An eating disorder is a stressful, time-consuming, alienating project. It is a secret that divides you from everyone around you. It makes you paranoid and irritable. It saps your energy and your hope. It will damage your life, and thereby give you something else to punish yourself for. Corollary to that, there is a wide wide swath of territory between what you shouldn’t force your body to do and what you cannot force your body to do. One can remain stable at death’s door for years and years.

Second, starvation is agonizing. It is one of the worst punishments you can inflict on your body, because your body was not meant to starve. We are animals, and animals must eat. Every instinct that drives us drives us to fix ourselves, to avoid hunger. And when you go hungry, your body gets extremely nervous. It wants a meal. It wants you to go out and get it food right now. When you refuse it, it will start to plead, and whine, and finally to scream. It will go crazy with desperation with you inside it, and it will not let you relax or think until you relieve its need. I lived with that blaring internal alarm for five years. Gnawing hunger.

That was the point. It wasn’t about being thin. It wasn’t about being well or unwell. It wasn’t about avoiding fat. I was cultivating misery when I starved myself, just as when I ate to nausea or ran to exhaustion. Anorexia nervosa is not inverted obesity, not a different direction of carelessness. The abused body is a symbol and a tool, not merely an object.