Commoditized self-care was here to stay, reaching mass saturation right around the time Trump was elected to office. Young people, disillusioned by polarized politics, saddled with astronomical student loan debt, and burned out by hustle culture, turned to skin care, direct-to-consumer home goods, and food and alcohol delivery — aggressively peddled by companies eager to capitalize on consumers’ stressors. While these practices may be restorative in the short term, they fail to address the systemic problems at the heart of individual despair.
How the self-care industry made us so lonely
The commodification of an activist concept turned a revitalizing practice into an isolating one.
Thus, a vicious, and expensive, cycle emerges: Companies market skin care products, for example, to prevent the formation of fine lines, supposedly a consequence of a stressful life. Consumers buy the lotions to solve this problem, lather themselves in solitude, and feel at peace for a little while. Once the anxiety, the exhaustion, and the insufficiency creeps in again, as it inevitably does, the routine begins anew. Buy a new eyeshadow, a bullet journal, Botox, a vacation to fill the need for care that never seems to abate.
Because buying things does not solve existential dread, we are then flooded with guilt for being unable to adequately tend to our minds and bodies. We just have to self-care harder, and so the consumerism masquerading as a practice that can fix something broken becomes another rote to-do list item.
Individualistic approaches to wellness promote isolation
This isn’t to say that solitary activities can’t be effective forms of self-care. Many people are easily depleted by social interaction and take solace in regular quiet evenings alone; solo time is indeed integral to a balanced social regimen. Conversely, people who are constantly surrounded by others can still feel lonely. However, when companies market genuinely vitalizing practices as individualized “solutions” to real problems (like burnout) requiring structural change (such as affordable child care), we increasingly look inward. “I worry that because of this ideology we live in, rugged individualism,” Scott says, “it lands in a way where folks feel that they're deficient. It is deflating.”
Pooja Lakshmin, a psychiatrist and clinical assistant professor at George Washington University, calls this self-soothing capitalist version of self-care “faux self-care” in her best-selling book Real Self-Care: A Transformative Program For Redefining Wellness. Faux self-care manifests in two ways: I deserve to splurge on Doordash and binge Netflix because I’m so burned out and I’m going to push myself so hard in this spin class because I need to be the best.
Secluding oneself by summoning sustenance to our doorstep comes at the expense of the worker earning paltry wages to deliver you that food. The doors of our apartments quite literally separate those who can afford to “care” for themselves and those who cannot. While this form of restoration appears to be more isolating, the hyper-competitive version of faux self-care is equally as confining, Lakshmin says. “They’re not engaging or present,” she says. “They’re competing with themselves.”
While many surveys and reports outline a recent rise in loneliness, researchers lack sufficient longitudinal data to definitively say whether people are lonelier now than in the past, says Luzia Heu, an assistant professor in interdisciplinary social sciences at Utrecht University. However, people in wealthier societies have more opportunities to spend time alone now, she says, whether through remote work, living alone, or participating in solitary hobbies. “We spend more time alone and we are more isolated,” Heu says. “That is where people immediately assume that loneliness must also have increased a lot.” Whether or not loneliness has grown compared to historical accounts, recent statistics show that individuals are reporting higher levels of loneliness over the last decade, especially in the wake of the pandemic.
“Self-care transformed into self-obsession”
America’s loneliness epidemic is multifaceted, but the rise of consumerist self-care that immediately preceded it seems to have played a crucial role in kicking the crisis into high gear — and now, in perpetuating it. You see, the me-first approach that is a hallmark of today’s faux self-care doesn’t just contribute to loneliness, it may also be a product of it. Research shows self-centeredness is a symptom of loneliness. But rather than reaching out to a friend, we focus on personalized self-care and wonder why we might not feel fulfilled. Another vicious cycle. “Instead of self-care being this mechanism to take care of yourself so that you can then show up for others,” says psychologist Maytal Eyal and co-founder of women’s health company Gather, “self-care transformed into self-obsession.”
The wellness industry wouldn’t be as lucrative if it didn’t prey on our insecurities. It must imagine new insufficiencies for us to fixate on, new elixirs and routines — like colostrum and 75 Hard — simultaneously meant to improve your mind and body by keeping them occupied in solitude.
That isolation is detrimental to the self and to society. When people are lonely, they tend to distrust others — they’re on the lookout for social threats and expect rejection. Being so disconnected and suspicious of their neighbors, their communities, and institutions could impact their propensity to cooperate with others and act in prosocial ways. A lack of social belonging has been linked to a person’s increased likelihood of voting for populist candidates. Similarly, social rejection can lead one toward extremist views. This is especially good news for political figures who wish to sow discontent and chaos. A secluded electorate is an unengaged one. Those in positions of power have it in their best interests to keep workers, neighbors, and citizens separate, self-centered, and distracted.
As Scott mentioned, the tradition of American individualism doesn’t help. When people are told they are solely responsible for their own happiness and well-being, they increasingly seek it out via solitary means. If they’re lonely to begin with — if they feel disappointed in their relationships or don’t feel understood — they have a stronger tendency to withdraw, says Heu, the social and behavioral science professor. Perhaps they seek out a form of commodified self-care to cope, but “it’s not something that tackles the cause of your loneliness,” Heu says. “For many people, the cause of the loneliness will be something else.”
For women, to whom self-care is most aggressively targeted, the source of their loneliness may be tied to the demands of their lives. Even when they earn the same as their male partners, women in heterosexual relationships still do the lion’s share of housework, according to a Pew Research Center study. Women also spend more time on caregiving than their husbands, the survey found. An expensive candle won’t ease the burdens of home life or allow for more time to connect with peers outside of the household.
The narrative that the only one we can depend on, and thus should prioritize, is ourselves perpetuates the idea of the personal above the collective — and reinforces the notion of self-sufficiency. Self-care is individual, says Luciani, the nursing professor: No one else can force us to get enough sleep or go to the gym. But it shouldn’t be individualistic. “Self-care is influenced by the support from others,” she says, like a partner who cooks dinner and cares for the children while you lie down with a headache, or a friend who advocates for you at medical appointments. Communal self-care means creating space for others to tend to their needs and supporting them when necessary.
Despite the powerful forces working against us, we can reclaim self-care. We can choose to ignore compelling advertisements promising quick fixes. We can partake in revitalizing communal practices, whether they be a yoga class or a movie night with friends. We can avoid blaming ourselves for feeling stressed and scared and despondent in a violent, tumultuous, and unjust world. We can get to the root of our loneliness. True self-care involves connecting with others. Showing up for a friend in need or exchanging a few kind words with a stranger is more fulfilling than a face mask anyway.