The video explores the intricate relationship between human bodies and societal perceptions, focusing on how the dissatisfaction many feel with their bodies is rooted in a history far older than most realize. The content delves into religious influences, particularly from a Western Catholic perspective, examining how historical attitudes towards food and the body have shaped modern perceptions, and contending that these concepts still affect our attitudes today.

Throughout the lecture, the speaker draws parallels between ancient and current attitudes toward food, underscoring that both have been dictated by deeper cultural and religious narratives. From ascetic practices in the Middle Ages aimed at spiritual salvation to today's diet and wellness trends focusing on control and social acceptance, the talk illuminates how these old ideologies manifest in our modern struggles and perceptions, especially among women.

Main takeaways from the video:

Please remember to turn on the CC button to view the subtitles.

Key Vocabularies and Common Phrases:

1. normative discontent [ˈnɔːrmətɪv dɪsˈkɑːntɛnt] - (n.) - A term used to describe the common dissatisfaction with one's body image that many people experience. - Synonyms: (common discontent, widespread dissatisfaction)

In the United States, over 70% of women experience bodily dissatisfaction, and this experience is so pervasive that it was once coined normative discontent.

2. transcendental [ˌtrænsɛnˈdɛntl] - (adj.) - Referring to an experience that goes beyond the normal or physical level. - Synonyms: (spiritual, metaphysical, otherworldly)

asceticism had a palpable transcendental quality to it, and there's an element of transcendence in our language today as well.

3. asceticism [əˈsɛtɪsɪzəm] - (n.) - The practice of strict self-discipline and abstention from indulgence, often for religious reasons. - Synonyms: (self-denial, austerity, abstinence)

This boundary between good and evil, of triumphing over appetite in its assumed sin is rooted in a concept called asceticism.

4. bodily mortification [ˈbɒdɪli ˌmɔːrtɪfɪˈkeɪʃən] - (n.) - The act of subduing or denying bodily desires, often for religious or moral discipline. - Synonyms: (self-punishment, penance, denial)

The idea behind original sin eventually transforms into the notion that bodily mortification, that starving yourself was a prerequisite for spiritual progress.

5. iconographic [ˌaɪkəˈnɒgræfɪk] - (adj.) - Relating to or representing a certain category of images or symbols, particularly in art and iconography. - Synonyms: (symbolic, representational, emblematic)

iconographic evidence suggests that both men and women associate food and fasting more with women than with men.

6. secular [ˈsɛkjələr] - (adj.) - Not connected with religious or spiritual matters. - Synonyms: (non-religious, worldly, lay)

Our relationship with food is not a neutral, secular, or even solely capitalist phenomenon, but actually has a religious history dating back six centuries that continues to influence us today.

7. palpable [ˈpælpəbl] - (adj.) - Capable of being felt or touched; tangible. - Synonyms: (tangible, noticeable, perceptible)

asceticism had a palpable transcendental quality to it, and there's an element of transcendence in our language today as well.

8. abjectness [ˈæbdʒɛktnəs] - (n.) - A state of being extremely unhappy, poor, unsuccessful, etc. - Synonyms: (hopelessness, misery, despair)

It's about controlling the threat of fatness and its implied abjectness and undesirability.

9. sovereign [ˈsɑːvrən] - (adj.) - Possessing supreme or ultimate power. - Synonyms: (independent, autonomous, supreme)

We would be remiss to ignore the immense impact the Church has had on Western thought and civilization from the creation of schools, universities, hospitals, written and visual culture, as well as its history as a sovereign political power.

10. renunciation [rɪˌnʌnsiˈeɪʃən] - (n.) - The formal rejection of something, typically a belief, claim, or course of action. - Synonyms: (abandonment, rejection, repudiation)

And while this may seem like disordered eating on the surface, astute analysts online have posited that this is actually a form of control and renunciation of the social realities of food for women

The religious roots of diet culture - Sophia Day - TEDxTufts

Question show of Hands how many of you have a difficult relationship with your body? You don't like the way it looks? You wish it was different? You regret that extra cookie you had last night? For for those of you who didn't raise your hands, congrats on shedding the anxieties of this mortal coil. Come and find me after this talk. But for those of you who did raise your hands, know that you're not alone. In the United States, over 70% of women experience bodily dissatisfaction, and this experience is so pervasive that it was once coined normative discontent.

As I was thinking about this problem and why it's so widespread and how we got here, I realized we're missing a key component to this narrative. We often blame the diet industry for our body image issues, and they're definitely part of this. But what if we've been ignoring other institutions, particularly religious ones? What if our troubled relationship with food is much more ancient than we think it is, and possibly even divinely inspired?

Of course, this wouldn't be a TED Talk if I didn't share a personal anecdote early on, but links all my key concepts together. And there was one moment during my undergraduate studies that perfectly encapsulates this link between unrealized religious history and bodily discontent. I was sitting in the library stacks working on a research paper, staring at a brownie I'd purchased earlier that day, trying to decide if I deserved to eat it. I stared at that plastic wrapped brownie with what felt like the weight of a mortal sin on my shoulders. I was genuinely paralyzed, held, transfixed as I imagined what it might do to my body, how it might make me fatter, unhealthier, less worthy.

To this day, I don't remember if I ate the brownie or not, but I remember how immensely distressing that choice felt. And if this seems terribly dramatic to you, it's because it is. In a sense. Not just because I was a self obsessed art student, and not just because of the strength of the emotions I felt in that moment, but because the way we relate to food has been filtered through centuries of religious philosophy and thought that positions food as a potent mediator between our bodies and our salvation.

Our relationship with food is not a neutral, secular, or even solely capitalist phenomenon, but actually has a religious history dating back six centuries that continues to influence us today. By understanding and acknowledging this history, we can begin to move forward and start to heal this relationship with food such that it doesn't have to be our damnation or our salvation, but can be whatever we want it to be now.

Before we dive into the history of this problem and I dazzle you with my witty observations and connections, I want to take a moment to clarify that I'm coming at this subject from a largely Western Catholic perspective, not only because that is my personal background, but because these are their perspectives the most directly contribute to the subject I am discussing. Even though America is not a Catholic or even Christian nation, we would be remiss to ignore the immense impact the Church has had on Western thought and civilization from the creation of schools, universities, hospitals, written and visual culture, as well as its history as a sovereign political power.

This is now. With that clarified, we turn to our first major question of our exploration today. Why food? Why are we? And why is religion obsessed with it? The immediate answer is because food is deeply linked to our human experience. It's the only element essential to life that we actively create and then routinely destroy. In other words, we exert a higher influence over food than, say, water or food sleep. And as a result, food becomes deeply linked to our sense of self.

As they say, you are what you eat. And this has been the case for millennia. In the ancient world, food was a visible vehicle for social differentiation. What, where, how, and with whom you ate your food was deeply linked to your social and political status and identity. And this is true today as well. Think of someone eating beef Wellington in a Michelin star restaurant surrounded by executives. Now picture someone eating a fast food hamburger in a parking lot surrounded by their friends. We assume a lot about these two eaters based on the same criteria as ancient people. Even if those assumptions operate at an unconscious level.

But pivoting back thousands of years, it's important to remember that Christianity didn't just emerge out of thin air, it had to evolve alongside existing structures in the ancient world. So as Christianity becomes an emerging religion, it has to both situate and differentiate itself, and the easiest realm for it to accomplish this is through food. For instance, Christianity built on widespread beliefs that moderation is important by instead utilizing its inverse indulgence is bad.

Furthermore, there's no passage in the New Testament outlining what Christians can and can't eat, which made it distinct from other surrounding religions which had cleared food rules. Food becomes a tool of identity formation for early Christians, and as a result of this, the importance of food becomes even more heightened. Now it is not just your body at stake, it is your immortal soul. Meal practices eventually turn into a boundary practice for early Christians, a way of distinguishing between good and bad Christians, us versus them.

And before we go critiquing ancient people too much. Note that we continue this practice today Day you can even think of the friction between vegans and non vegans. But we see this community boundary marking most clearly in online movements. Maybe you've been scrolling through social media and you've seen hashtags like thinspo or fitspo. Or maybe memes proudly proclaiming that sweat is just fat crying. Or maybe you've perused a few wellness culture blogs touting the benefits of sea moss or the horrors of gluten.

All of these allude to specific Internet sub communities that use their eating practices as a way of identity formation, a way of distinguishing themselves from the ugly undesirable other, which is often the threat of fatness. Both the ancient and the current positions boil down to this if they don't eat like us, they are not with us.

This boundary between good and evil, of triumphing over appetite in its assumed sin is rooted in a concept called asceticism. asceticism can be defined as the voluntary abstention from physical goods central to the well being of humankind, particularly those associated with bodily pleasure, for philosophical or moral reasons. There are several reasons why one might practice asceticism, a primary one to become morally acceptable in the eyes of the divine. But in any case, the practice is always meaningful to the participant and its meaning is defined by its social context.

It can even be as casual as dry January or the whole 30 challenge. So for many of you in this room, congratulations. You are ascetic practitioners. I bet you didn't know you were so spiritually attuned. Having said that, Christian asceticism comes to define monastic life in the Middle Ages and is, in my opinion, the most direct link to diet culture today, particularly for women.

asceticism, specifically for food, grows out of the concept of original sin and Eve eating the fruit of knowledge. Not only is this a pervasive and potent visual metaphor, but it forms an immediate link between eating and sin that informs Christian philosophy and practices during this time. The additional link between Eve and femininity means that for nuns and laywomen, ascetic practices become doubly important. The idea behind original sin eventually transforms into the notion that bodily mortification, that starving yourself was a prerequisite for spiritual progress. Original sin made Adam and Eve mortal. So by rejecting food and the body evidence of that sin, these women can try and atone. And while this may seem strange to us, the drive behind those behaviors still informs our dieting practices today.

The restriction of eating and really, if we're being honest. Its implied outcome of thinness and attractiveness is seen not as a precondition for spiritual progress, but for perfection, including perfection in other areas of life. If I could just control, restrict, attain X through my eating habits, then I will be good, perfect, desirable, etc. Often with the belief that this perfection will trickle into other areas of life, such as finding the perfect guy or landing that big promotion.

This type of thinking is the same restriction and rejection of the body that we see in the Middle Ages just. Just given a fresh coat of paint. Fundamentally, for a lot of us, particularly for women, we have a certain embattled attitude towards our bodies. There's something that we fight against day in and day out, much in the same way that ascetic nuns fought against their own bodies and hunger.

This leads me to our second major why women? I've been talking a lot about women, and this isn't to say that men aren't affected by diet culture or or didn't engage in ascetic practices. But we know from my brilliant opening that women are statistically more affected by diet culture and that ascetic practices were more prominent for women than for men. If we look at visual culture, and we're going to. Because I'm an artist and it's my talk.

iconographic evidence suggests that both men and women associate food and fasting more with women than with men. Many major iconographic motifs in Western Christian art that depict food also depict women. Consider even the forbidden fruit. Mary Magdalene fasting in the desert, the Virgin Mary feeding the infant Jesus, even St. Lucy presenting her eyeballs on a platter. Even today, if we think about diet culture images, we're more likely to picture women.

Indeed, the Internet is packed full of images of women happily eating salads, or proudly posing in pants that are now too big for them, or staring lovingly at jars of yogurt. These images could be the icons of our day if they weren't just so artistically terrible.

But why women? Why do we see food and food trends associated disproportionately with women? There are two reasons, one secular and one religious, but both rooted in social and economic realities for women. Fundamentally, a lot of this reasoning comes down to control. Historically, food was the major, if only, resource that women controlled, both for themselves and for others. Women were the ones preparing family meals, dictating family meal structure, preparing communal meals, and so on. And to prepare food is to control food.

As humans, we can only renounce or deny that which we control. I can't say that I'M going to renounce global hunger or capitalism because I don't control either of those things. I can't stop eating dairy. However, as much as I don't want to do that, dieting is ultimately about social acceptability and control as well. It's about looking acceptable, it's about controlling our size, and even if we don't admit it consciously, it's about controlling the threat of fatness and its implied abjectness and undesirability. Even wellness culture, which doesn't position itself as a diet and instead touts overall wellness and good for you foods, is ultimately a food management system aimed at reducing threats of fatness or ill health.

We can see this theme of control, albeit in a more nuanced direction with girl dinner, a term coined by social media users to describe the existing real life phenomenon of the meals that single women will make for themselves out of odd bits and ends. My mother is an expert practitioner of girl dinner. On any given day, if I ask her what she had for dinner, she will reply with something along the lines of two tortilla chips, half a jicama stick, just the turkey from a leftover sandwich, and the thought of some grapes. And while this may seem like disordered eating on the surface, astute analysts online have posited that this is actually a form of control and renunciation of the social realities of food for women.

Instead of perfectly balanced, nutritious meals aimed at families that take all day to prepare, Girl Dinner rejects that paradigm and replaces it with freedom from the kitchen and for providing for others entirely. Yes, I am reclaiming control with my weird little kitchen scrap charcuterie boards every weeknight, as odd as it may seem.

Having said that, we have to remember that for nuns and lay women, ascetic food practices had religious reasons behind them. It wasn't just about controlling the body in a way, it was about going beyond the body, whether to escape unpleasant earthly realities or to turn their attention to a more spiritual way of being through the boundary of food. asceticism had a palpable transcendental quality to it, and there's an element of transcendence in our language today as well. When we talk about not liking our bodies, it's in a way we're really trying to go beyond them, to be free of them, so we can get what we actually want, whether that is freedom, enjoyment, that big promotion. We may not be working towards God, but we are working towards equally abstract concepts.

If we extremely simplify the language at play across the centuries, we would be left with the same sentiment and structure. If I do x food practice, I will obtain y abstract outcome. My supervisor once summed it up plainly, I was told growing up that if I was skinny, a man would love me and all would be well. It is truly no different for ascetic nuns, except that man is Jesus.

Now, I'm not interested in leaving all of you with a bummer of a talk of just centuries of religious history and bodily hatred. So I'd like to end with solutions. Which brings me to our third and final question of the day. What now? Now that we know that this is an issue entrenched in one of the largest cultural and spiritual power systems in Western thought, how do we begin to move forward and start to heal this relationship with food? How do we stop treating food as a threat while still acknowledging its amazing cultural, communal and symbolic potential?

Thankfully, I have a three step process Step one Acknowledgement we're going to have to give ourselves some grace here and acknowledge that we're probably not going to come up with a one size fits all solution in the last few minutes of this talk. We can't speedrun something that has been building for centuries and this is going to take some time.

Step 2 Connection I always find it oddly comforting to be able to look back through history and see the things that we struggle with reflected in the lives of people who came before us. It feels like a hand reaching out through time, saying, I know you and I know your struggle, so know that there is nothing so novel or terrible about any of this such that we cannot solve it.

Step three how might we for the last two years I've had the pleasure of working for the Seeding the Future Lab at the Friedman School of Nutrition here at Tufts, whose mission is to utilize human centered design to feed the next billion people equitably and sustainably. Human centered design is exactly what it sounds like. It's designing with humans and the human experience in mind. And while there are many facets to this design process, we're going to hone in on one called a How might We Statement to help us today.

A How Might We Statement helps designers concretely identify the problem they are trying to solve for while still being broad enough to allow for multiple solutions and approaches. It's a helpful but tricky tool to hone. A good how might we? Statement would be specific but not narrow in scope, would adequately define our users, and would take into account any factors that we need to incorporate into our solution.

Now that I've given you a two minute background, it's time for you to make your own how might we statements. And don't worry, I'm not going to grade you on any of this, but there are a couple of things to keep in mind as you go forward. Firstly, you are the user you are designing for, so whatever you propose, it has to work for you. Secondly, a huge part of the design process is prototyping and failure. You're probably going to have to go through multiple how might we statements in order to arrive at something that works for you.

As a final gift, a thank you for listening thus far, I'd like to leave you with a base how might we or rather, how might I statement for you to take and personalize how might I radically reconfigure my relationship with food while acknowledging the centuries of religious and secular history that have led up to this point in a way that is feasible for me? Maybe your end goal is to feel better in your body. Maybe just to have food be a source of joy for you in your life.

Maybe this whole time you thought those ascetic nuns were onto something and you would like to go full middle ages in 2024. Whatever your reason now, knowing this religious history, I invite you to begin a design process for you and your dieting practices free from the dictates of any institution. Thank you.

RELIGION, WESTERN CULTURE, WOMEN, PHILOSOPHY, INSPIRATION, EDUCATION, TEDX TALKS