“I am not doing any more homework tonight. Self-care.”
This sentence and many others like it were commonly uttered by my roommates and me last semester. For us, self-care was defined as a late afternoon chai, the forgoing of extra reading, and the 20 minutes of Netflix we would indulge in between p-sets. But why does the burden of self-care fall upon us at all? Why is the “grind culture” so much that we need to designate time to take care of ourselves so we don’t lose our minds. How does the relationship between “the grind,” self-care, neoliberal individualism, and capitalism work to create a commodification of health that results in a raceless, classless standard for how to take care of yourself? How is this harmful?
As Michelle Murphy discusses in the context of cervical cancer and pap smears, US feminist ideals of self-determination in medicine promoted vaginal self-exams as “a route toward depathologizing and destigmatizing sexuality and reproduction,” (“Unsettling Care” 718). However, this practice aspired toward an “unraced” woman, which ignored the “coercive, racist sterilization of Latina women” that was occurring during the same time and in the same place where self-exams originated (720). Thus, self-exams placed the burden on women (and, more inclusively, people with vaginas) to individually account for their health while refusing to confront the legacies of colonialism and racism rampant in reproductive medicine. What’s more, self-exams and care labor women perform more generally contribute to global capitalism.
Murphy writes, “Capitalism… was dependent on patriarchy for keeping the care work of social reproduction as unwaged labor so that capital could freely accrue the benefits of the labor power (as well as consumption) created by the caring practices that nurtured new workers and new consumers (723). I would advance the argument that self-care, in the form of face masks (not the COVID-19 kind), a video game, or a glass of wine, would also fall under the scope of unpaid care labor. The self-care performed at the home allows rejuvenation of the worker so that they can return to work refreshed and ready. As quoted by Murphy, “Capital is based on extracting surplus value from women’s unwaged and low-waged labor. They want us in ‘economic development’ so we do two jobs instead of one…” (730). Just as it relies on unpaid care labor in the form of childrearing and self-exams, capitalism enjoys the free benefits of self-care in the form of more efficient workers and the creation of a market of self-care products.
While this labor is not as gendered as care work within the home, there still exists a tendency for self-care products to be marketed towards women. These products, which are centered mainly around health and cleanliness, have created a consumer culture based on the commodification of self-care, which translates to the commodification of health. Purchasing things under the guise of self-care promotes the mindset that care is the responsibility of the individual. What this fails to do is recognize that the privilege of self-care is neither classless nor raceless. Many people cannot afford to splurge on non-essential products, and racial barriers to employment in this country mean that BIPOC disproportionately have lower socioeconomic statuses.
Self-care is not the only, or even the primary, way in which health is commodified and tied to global capitalism. As demonstrated in Fassin’s piece on AIDS in South Africa, “even the horror of AIDS does not stop the thirst for profit,” (68). Even in the lack of proper drugs to treat AIDS, AIDS dissidents explained the benefits of not having access to anti-HIV drugs as a “blessing of poverty,” (59). Health has never been without differences across classes, but the rhetoric of feminist self-help movements works to remove class differences in favor of a universal empowered woman. However, this ignores the fact that even if women take care of themselves, even if they perform vaginal self-exams, and adverse findings will result in a need for conventional medicine, to which they may not have access. Then what? What does self-help say about that? And what if your self-care isn’t enough, but you cannot afford a therapist, regular visits to the doctors, or to take time off of work? According to the neoliberal feminist self-help model, any failings of your health are your responsibility, just as it is your responsibility to care for yourself.
This is not to say that all (or any) self-care is bad. Take time for yourself and nurture your mind and body in ways you see fit. Davis’s piece on Our Body, Our Selves demonstrates that feminist projects can transcend borders while adapting to accommodate differences across groups of women. All hope is not lost. However, I urge you to be critical of the ways your health and wellbeing have been commodified and designated solely as your responsibility. But as I said before, I am not doing any more homework tonight. Self-care.
-- Lilley
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