I will often tell my literature students that we humans define ourselves in opposition to nature. “Humans hate nature,” I’ll say, employing hyperbole to get them thinking. “Look around,” I spread my arms and gesture around the classroom, “what’s natural in here?” A couple will usually look around at the desks and fluorescent lights, but all remain silent. “In fact,” I continue, “all of our technological developments have been about mastering nature or destroying it. We just hate nature.”
I continue in this vein in order to make the point that the signifier “human” suggests a growing opposition to nature. The more technologically sophisticated we get, the more antithetical and harmful our relationship with nature seems to be.
The idea of “human nature” is an oxymoron. Yes, I can accept “animal nature,” but human is a culturally constructed signifier that attempts to assuage any remnants of our animal past. In this, science and religion are the same. The former uses the past and observations of nature in order to better understand it. Why better understand it? To control it, of course. Therefore, all products of science are about destroying nature or at the very least changing it to suit us. Religion is the same way: it wants to banish the animal, the dark irrational side of the homo sapien — you know the one Satan uses to tempt us? — and uphold the reasonable, rational, and moral side. Samuel Johnson said that “he who thinks rationally, must think morally.” Science and religion hate nature.
So, nature is the enemy. This includes, paradoxically, our own bodies. Just look at the atrocities we perpetrate on our bodies for the sake of being human. My wife introduced me to the problem of “hammer toe.” She does not suffer from this malady, but women who wear high heels in excess can develop this deformity of the foot. And this is a very mild example. I could talk about foot binding, tattooing, piercing, breast augmentation, etc., etc., etc. Even the amount of time and effort we spend in making sure hair grows where it’s supposed to and doesn’t where it’s not is symptomatic of “humanity.” How much time and money does this culture spend on just body hair?
These are the obvious examples. How about our clothing? You can find many web sites that discuss choosing the appropriate clothing for your body shape, but what about our clothing’s influence on the shape to begin with? I had never heard of “muffin tops” in the eighties, nor had I really ever seen a man’s pot belly on a woman before. Was this because of the style of clothing covering these things up, or was it the style affecting how the body developed? What about it, hammer toe?
And speaking of muffin tops, even our concept of healthy is denaturalized. On my drive home Thursday, I was listening to Talk of the Nation‘s show on obesity. Now normally this is one of my favorite shows, but I was appalled at what was being said here. Obesity is a disease? Really? They were actually encouraging surgery as a valid form of weight loss! Talk about hating nature. One “expert” even said that we have to control our portion sizes — that we must not “overeat.” Can we overbreathe? Should we cut out part of our lungs? Overwalking? Let’s cut that leg off right above the knee.
It’s not that we overeat, it’s that we’re eating the wrong things! Our bodies have been programmed to eat over millions of years. You think you can control that? Even with surgery? Eat, people. Just don’t eat the Big Mac and fries. Try some rice, vegetables (no butter!), fruit, grains — you know, the stuff we have lived on for millions of years. Yes, I’m certain our ancestors killed a mammoth once in a while and had a feast akin to the feeding troughs at Golden Corral. But in the interim, what did they do? They ate what they could find from the land and followed the seasons. In modern terms: they ate right and exercised.
Yet, instead of suggesting that eating right and exercise are the only effective ways of controlling one’s weight — something that “people don’t want to hear” and something “that doesn’t help them” — surgery is a viable option. Get part of your stomach cut out so you can continue to drown your lettuce in Ranch sauce, eat Buffalo wings by the dozen, and shove all forms of meat in your meat hole. Instead of saying “lay off the fat,” we say “come in and let us remove part of your stomach.” Oh, never mind the diabetes and heart disease. Maybe they’ll have artificial hearts soon.
Am I the only one who sees the problem here? Has the human race “progressed” so far that we truly don’t see ourselves fitting into our natural environments any more? You know: the natural force that shaped us gradually over millions of years…
Me in My Vibrams.
Anyway, I meant this entry to introduce my new shoes: I finally got some Vibram Five Fingers. I think that humanity should begin defining itself in relation to — not in opposition to — its environment. Science and technology can augment our lives in many ways, but not if it destroys our surroundings and our relationship to them. Technology should be symbiotic. We should do our best to live with what we have, perhaps making that better and stronger.
This is a problematic idea, and I’ll explore it more in a later entry. However, I think Vibram’s concept for the Five Fingers makes a lot of sense. It brings us closer to our environment, not only in proximity, but in how our bodies work. This technology allows us to go barefoot, but offers protection from the harsher elements of the environment. My Five Fingers protect me from the crappy roads around here, but also let my feet spread out. During my first run earlier today, I used muscles my body had forgotten about. I did get twin blisters on the outsides of my big toes, but hopefully, this is just a temporary inconvenience while I get used to going “barefoot” again. And no technology is perfect, after all.
So I ran five miles in my new shoes. Yes, I altered my gait and stride a bit. My usual form in my old Nikes — and every other running shoe I have ever owned — had me forward on my toes anyway. If I ran “normally” — hitting my heel first and rolling forward — I would get shin splints after about half a mile. I found that if I ran on the front of my feet, I would not get shin splints. This has worked for me for years. I think that’s why I could run further my first time with the Five Fingers than others have been able to: my stride in my old running shoes was closer to what it is in the Vibram’s. Anyway, that’s my theory.
So here begins the experiment. I live a far from symbiotic life, but I’m making little efforts here and there.
Looking back, I remember watching 
