What if There’s Nothing To Be Fixed?
Perhaps it’s time to take a good hard look at where the modern pursuit of a ‘better’ self is really taking us
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As a nearly 31-year-old woman, I’m constantly bombarded by ads telling me there’s something that I desperately need to fix about myself; that something usually being my appearance.
This has only gotten worse ever since I turned 30.
Somewhere in the vast web of targeted advertising spun by marketers and social media strategists, there must be a whole section of aggressive ads waiting to be unleashed on unsuspecting women the moment they no longer fall into the ‘young and plump’ category. (Though I still see myself as ‘young and plump,’ much to the Advertising Gods’ dismay, I imagine.)
But with my birthday approaching, I’ve been hit with a new wave of marketing emails I still haven’t managed to unsubscribe from (some make it quite tricky), framing birthdays as ‘an opportunity to reflect on how you’re measuring up to your expectations for yourself’ and ‘make improvements.’ Perhaps a new journal, anti-ageing serum, or — get this — edible longevity grapes will help? (Oh yes, that’s a thing.)
Add to that the frenzy of ‘New Year, new you,’ ‘get ready for [insert an upcoming holiday or occassion]’, or ‘undo the damage of [insert a holiday or occasion that just passed]’, and it really seems like practically any time of year seems like an ‘opportunity’ to ‘fix’ ourselves. Wellness culture, beauty culture, and the self-help industry all come together to convince us there’s something wrong with us, but also that we’re only a few steps away from a ‘better’ self. And conveniently, they’ve got just the product or service for it.
But what is being fixed, exactly? Is this individualistic pursuit of self-improvement really the answer to our problems?
And how did we even end up here?
If you think our modern-day obsession with self-improvement is something new, you’d be wrong.
While it may not stretch back to prehistoric times — although I like to imagine our hunter-gatherer ancestors manifesting a bigger mammoth or collecting berries for a detox smoothie — it does go back to ancient history, particularly Ancient Greece.
This shouldn’t come as a surprise, given the Greeks’ reputation for deep appreciation of physical prowess and beauty. However, the Greek word for ‘self-care,’ philautia, which translates to ‘self-love’ or ‘love of self,’ encompassed not only activities that perfected the body, like exercise, but also those that nurtured the soul, such as meditation, fasting, prayer, education, and music. As philosophers like Plato and Socrates believed, ‘caring for one’s soul’ and striving to become ‘as good and wise’ as possible was considered vital to living a good and happy life.
Still, it was a Roman emperor, Marcus Aurelius, who arguably wrote the first ‘self-help’ book, Meditations, between 170–180 CE. To be fair, though, ancient Egyptians developed a whole genre of instructional literature on life called sebayt, which predates it.
Early Christians were also deeply concerned with the care of self, but it took on slightly different, more ascetic forms and included, for instance, taking vows of celibacy, fasting (sometimes to death), becoming a hermit, or… sitting atop a pillar for 37 years. This all tied back to one specific idea echoed throughout the Bible, namely the belief that humans are born tainted by original sin. And so, to overcome our inherently sinful nature, we must constantly desire and strive for perfection or risk a one-way ticket to hell. As Augustin of Hippo, a key theologian in Church history, put it, ‘He who stops, regresses.’
Protestant Christian ethic, which emerged after the Reformation in the 16th century, also reinforced this belief that we are all undeserving sinners in need of constant reform. Over time, and as sociologist Max Weber argued, this mindset — that individuals must continually improve themselves, not only as a moral duty but also to succeed in life — became intertwined with capitalism. This certainly came in handy with the rise of industrialisation in the 19th century. It wasn’t only machines that could — and should — be optimised for maximum efficiency. It was humans, too.
But it wasn’t until the early 20th century that the ideology of self-improvement-through-consumption truly took hold, driven by a burgeoning consumer culture that redefined the individual primarily as a consumer. The advertising-media complex, which fueled this shift, also seemed to borrow elements from the Christian playbook, often exploiting the notion that people were inherently flawed or lacking in some way to sell them products.
There are many examples of this, but one that always comes to my mind is Gillette’s ad campaigns for its first women’s razor, the Milady Decollette. As one 1922 ad featuring an illustration of a woman with hairless underarms declared:
The fastidious woman to-day must have immaculate underarms if she is to be unembarassed.
The mid-20th century also witnessed something else: the rise of modern psychology and the popularisation of self-help movements, particularly in the US. Figures like Dale Carnegie (author of How to Win Friends and Influence People) and Norman Vincent Peale (The Power of Positive Thinking) further promoted the belief that although individuals are ‘inherently’ lacking, they can ‘fix’ themselves through changes in mindset and behaviour. And the right book or course or whatever else your guru or messiah of choice is selling, of course.
Today, I think it’s no exaggeration to say that most of us, to some extent, have internalised this narrative that we are fundamentally flawed and need to change. Even if you don’t live in the US or another consumer-driven economy, you likely swim in the waters of this highly individualistic, consumerist culture, too, thanks to the internet and social media.
If you regularly use the latter, it’s especially impossible not to be perenially aware of all these areas where you ‘lack’ something. You’re not productive enough, you don’t wake up early enough, you don’t grow enough — personally or spiritually — you don’t exercise enough, you don’t travel enough, etc. If you’re a woman, this comes with the added pressure of not being conventionally attractive, thin, or young-looking enough. And if you’re a man, not ‘manly’ or successful enough. Gender norms are yet another domain where we’re pushed to ‘fix’ ourselves and conform to the feminine/masculine binary (and, simultaneously and paradoxically, told it’s ‘innate’), but that’s a topic for another discussion.
The wellness, self-help and beauty industries also all increasingly overlap because just about anything these days gets labelled as ‘self-care’ — from shaving your legs and getting cosmetic injectables to drinking alcohol and shopping for new gadgets or clothes.
At its core, though, it’s all about the same thing: an intense focus on the individual self and consumption.
Given all of this, it’s no surprise that recent studies show people are setting more New Year’s resolutions and goals, often tied to self-improvement, or that even our birthdays and other celebrations are framed as opportunities to ‘reinvent ourselves’ and, of course, consume. But it’s mainly my generation, Millenials, that seem captivated by the idea that our ‘better’ selves are just one purchase away. According to one survey, 94% of Millennials reported making personal improvement commitments — more than any previous generation — and said they’re willing to spend up to $300 a month on self-improvement. Another recent survey shows that Millennials and Gen Z spend more on ‘self-care’ than older generations.
And yet, no matter what we’ve already done, there’s always more to be achieved and more ways to improve and more things to buy.
As Mark Fisher writes in Capitalist Realism:
The ‘health and wellness’ industry, like so many other capitalist enterprises, depends on the perpetual dissatisfaction of the consumer(…). The self is always incomplete, always in need of further enhancement, which can only be purchased in the marketplace.
It’s a Sisyphean task to ‘keep up’ with it all. But that’s the point. You’re supposed to fail. And want to reach for yet another ‘fix.’
In addition to being stuck in this cycle of dissatisfaction, recent studies also suggest that perfectionist tendencies, which frequently underlie the constant quest for self-improvement, can lead to issues like depression, anxiety and stress, even when researchers control for traits like neuroticism. One study even found that those who read self-help books had higher levels of cortisol (the stress hormone) and were more likely to have depressive symptoms compared to those who didn’t.
I think there’s also something else driving so many of us — especially younger people — toward this frantic pursuit of ‘better’ selves: a desire for control.
As a young (and still plump) person, I sometimes do feel like I have control over exactly nothing. The enormous challenges we face, from climate change and economic inequality to wars and extremism, can feel too overwhelming for one person to solve. We can’t stop massive corporations from burning all the fossil fuels that damage our environment, billionaires from exploiting workers or politicians from making policies that mainly benefit the ruling class. Many of us can’t even afford a home, pay off student debt, or take a real vacation.
So what can we do, really?
We turn inward, focusing on fixing ourselves, because it feels like the only thing within our control. Everything else seems either unreachable, uncertain, or hopeless.
Dr Carol-Ann Farkas describes wellness culture as ‘a radical turning inward of agency toward the goal of transformation of one’s own body, in contrast to a turning outward to mobilise for collective action’, and I think this applies well to our broader ‘Fix Yourself’ culture.
The paradox — and tragedy — of it all is that the more we focus on what feels manageable and within our reach — the individual self — the less attention we give to our environment and the more problems we’ll likely have as a result. ‘Self’ is, after all, not an isolated but interdependent construct. We don’t feel tired, burnt out, stressed, broken or lonely because we were born this way. More often than not, these feelings stem from the increasingly demanding, isolating, and stressful world we live in and the systemic inequalities — economic, social, and otherwise — that drive it.
This constant drive for self-improvement, alongside buying products that promise to make us feel or look better, not only distracts us from questioning the power structures that create these inequalities but also fuels the very system that exploits us. It’s a vicious cycle. Capitalism offers solutions to the problems it creates or worsens, and then, if we don’t buy into them, the blame shifts to ‘personal failure’ and ‘poor lifestyle choices.’
The real, long-term solution lies in collective action, not individual choices. But it also requires rethinking the broader cultural narrative that got us here in the first place.
So what if we finally did?
What if we let go of the idea that we’re inherently broken and flawed and, instead, understood that we’re worthy and complete just as we are, without having to work hard enough, be more productive or endlessly improve ourselves?
Self-care isn’t necessarily bad, selfish, or frivolous. But perhaps the Ancient Greeks’ concept of ‘love of self’ offers a healthier alternative to today’s hyper-individualistic, consumer-driven version.
It’s only when we genuinely care for and love ourselves that the noise around us — the constant insistence that we need to ‘fix’ something — starts to lose its grip and, eventually, becomes irrelevant, and we can focus on what actually matters.
I’m not quite there yet, but I think I’m getting close.
I don’t want to improve, change or fix myself constantly.
More than anything, I just want to be.
Oooh, wait until you turn 40 and the whole world decides that being 40 is a criminal act that must be concealed at all costs. God forbid you look your age! To me, this isn't even self-"improvement", who decided that looking younger is necessarily always an improvement? I prefer my current appearance to the one I had in my twenties, when I had acne from still eating dairy, hadn't figured out what to do with my hair, and didn't know how to dress. I remember reading something along the lines of asking yourself, when you feel like you're not good enough and need to self-improve, "who profits from this emotion?" I think that's brilliant. This so-called "self-improvement" is another capitalist trick to make us part with our money, and like you say, it's set up to make us fail and go back to spend even more.
The bombardment becomes so relentless that you just have to step off the hamster wheel. I’m 52 and I have never been kinder to myself with the exception of my behavior towards others, which must be impeccable. Wrinkles, cellulite, hair on my mammalian body. All fine. Good luck. You are on a great path for your age.