arcticorangutan on Nostr: The industry of "empowerment" I am bewildered by the use of the term ...
The industry of "empowerment"
I am bewildered by the use of the term “empowerment” in our current culture, particularly in the realm of so-called body positivity, where altering one’s physical appearance through invasive or non-invasive procedures is framed as an act of self-liberation.
Aesthetic medicine, cosmetic enhancements and plastic surgery are on the rise in the Western world with treatments like liposuction, breast augmentation, tummy tuck and neuromodular injections becoming increasingly common.
I don’t claim to know much at all about any of the above procedures but I know enough to recognize that they actually achieve the opposite effect of empowerment.
Changing our body through procedures that require no personal effort is actually, by definition, a surrender of power. When we give in to the temptation of a quick fix, we not only accept our own powerlessness to improve our attractiveness through lifestyle and choices, but we also give up our ability to come to terms with what we cannot change.
And the most insidious aspect of this is that the more permanent the procedure, the more permanent our disempowerment. If you change your nose, you will never be able to find out, whether you could have just accepted your nose as it was. And you will forever have to live with this insecurity.
It’s easy to think that I am exaggerating, but the truth is that the increased acceptance of aesthetic surgeries is a reflection of a proportional decrease in our ability to accept our bodies as they are. In the end, we may be calling it "empowerment," but what we’re really doing is redefining power in a way that demands external validation — one procedure at a time.
A fit and symmetric body is attractive and our striving for it natural, but what is even more attractive is someone who, while doing their best to improve, has embraced their own outward imperfections, allowing their inner qualities to shine in their full brilliance.
Albert Tucker’s “Victory girls” (1943)
I am bewildered by the use of the term “empowerment” in our current culture, particularly in the realm of so-called body positivity, where altering one’s physical appearance through invasive or non-invasive procedures is framed as an act of self-liberation.
Aesthetic medicine, cosmetic enhancements and plastic surgery are on the rise in the Western world with treatments like liposuction, breast augmentation, tummy tuck and neuromodular injections becoming increasingly common.
I don’t claim to know much at all about any of the above procedures but I know enough to recognize that they actually achieve the opposite effect of empowerment.
Changing our body through procedures that require no personal effort is actually, by definition, a surrender of power. When we give in to the temptation of a quick fix, we not only accept our own powerlessness to improve our attractiveness through lifestyle and choices, but we also give up our ability to come to terms with what we cannot change.
And the most insidious aspect of this is that the more permanent the procedure, the more permanent our disempowerment. If you change your nose, you will never be able to find out, whether you could have just accepted your nose as it was. And you will forever have to live with this insecurity.
It’s easy to think that I am exaggerating, but the truth is that the increased acceptance of aesthetic surgeries is a reflection of a proportional decrease in our ability to accept our bodies as they are. In the end, we may be calling it "empowerment," but what we’re really doing is redefining power in a way that demands external validation — one procedure at a time.
A fit and symmetric body is attractive and our striving for it natural, but what is even more attractive is someone who, while doing their best to improve, has embraced their own outward imperfections, allowing their inner qualities to shine in their full brilliance.

Albert Tucker’s “Victory girls” (1943)