The Adonis Complex: The Secret Crisis of Male Body Obsession - Hardcover

Harrison G. Pope Jr.; Katharine A. Phillips; Roberto Olivardia

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0684869101 ISBN 13: 9780684869100

Publisher: Free Press, 2000

Synopsis

Discusses the growing numbers of men who are taking the quest for perfect muscles, skin, and hair too far, crossing the line from normal interest to pathological obsession

About this title

About the Author

Harrison G. Pope, Jr., M.D., is a Professor of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and Chief of the Biological Psychiatry Laboratory at McLean Hospital. He lives in Concord, Massachusetts.

From the Inside Flap

Praise for The Adonis Complex:

"Ten years after the Beauty Myth we finally understand the relationship between society's expectations of boys and men and how they think about their bodies. The Adonis Complex sounds the alarm about the newest and least understood threat to their physical, social, and emotional development. Everyone who cares about men, young and old, should read this indispensable book." --William Pollack, Ph.D., author of Real Boys: Rescuing our Sons from the Myths of Boyhood

"A great many men suffer in silence with body image obsession. This innovative book describes in vivid detail how and why this develops and offers wise and practical solutions. From models to mirrors, from steroids to sexuality, this book covers ground as no other." --Kelly Brownell, Ph.D., Director, Yale Center for Eating and Weight Disorders, Yale University

Reviews

This interesting and provocative book describes a form of obsession in which otherwise healthy men become absorbed by compulsive exercising, eating disorders, body-image distortion, and ultimately, abuse of anabolic steroids. In a manner analogous to the course of anorexia nervosa, the social norm of male "fitness" turns, in these sad men, into an insatiable obsession with growing "bigger" and more muscular. When exercise and dieting rituals, no matter how fanatical, fail, recourse to drugs, mostly anabolic steroids, appears to be an easy transition. Body-obsessed men find that drugs are readily available from underground suppliers who gravitate to gyms like moths to the light. Gripped by unshakable fat phobias as well as dietary and drug-related rituals, these pathetic men lose touch with reality and become isolated, socially dysfunctional, and sometimes even dangerous.

The authors, two psychiatrists and a psychologist, describe vividly a wide repertoire of strange forms of behavior, extending well beyond the merely eccentric, undertaken by men who are driven to grow bigger muscles, to reshape their disappointing bodies. This book comprises a welter of personal stories written in a style best described as relentless montage. It includes more than 185 vignettes, two thirds of which quote verbatim from pseudonymous men, exhibiting a potent mixture of narcissistic drug abuse and self-abuse. This cavalcade of anecdotes makes for a vivid and personalized narrative, but the scientific analysis is, by contrast, very limited. The narcissistic self-absorption of these men seems to be a conflation of Veblen's conspicuous leisure and conspicuous consumption in which the vigor and stoicism of the warrior metamorphoses into a hollow emulation, a comic-book satire consisting of somatic sculpting in mock-heroic posture. Although 200 slightly different anecdotes are hardly more persuasive than 1 anecdote repeated 200 times, the slight differences curiously give the narrative an illusion of multidimensionality.

The strength of this book is its eclectic but effective historical review of the changing fashions in the male physique, charting the progressive distortion of male body images. The art of deception in the media and marketing is well highlighted by a judicious compilation of images. Although the underlying message rests on a wafer-thin surface of credibility, the marshalling of a variety of sources of evidence provides an uneven but ultimately persuasive survey of trends over recent decades. Whether the male physique is depicted in action toys, professional wrestling and weightlifting champions, beefcake magazines, or advertising, there is a remarkable consistency in the patterns of distortion. There has been a progressive rise in the muscularity in these depictions to pathologic and unattainable proportions increasingly at variance with reality. Few will be able to resist the book's conjunction of systematic distortion of the body image with the parade of body-obsessed men undertaking extreme rituals of dieting, purging, and drug abuse to meet delusional and self-destructive ideals. The linkage of such ritualistic obsessionality with youth suicide seems tantalizing but surprisingly little considered by the authors.

The magnitude of male somatic obsessionality is dealt with less well by the authors. With justification, discoverers of "secret crises," like the chroniclers of vast hidden conspiracies, are more likely to be considered deluded or exaggeration-prone than prescient. Disregarding the oft-repeated clarion calls about a secret crisis, this book does not clarify the frequency of such extreme somatic obsession. Although the only reasonably reliable estimates come from systematic surveys of high school students as a captive population susceptible to valid sampling, the prevalence of anabolic-steroid abuse is modest compared with abuse of most other licit and illicit social drugs. Accurate estimates of the prevalence in the adult population are unavailable, but common sense suggests that such abuse is restricted to distinct subpopulations.

Disappointingly, this book contributes little to our understanding of the origins of this disorder. Is it a new condition or a new manifestation of an old condition? By highlighting the media and advertising, the book encourages the belief that these disorders are driven, if not caused, by propaganda. The authors offer no argument against the alternative possibility that this is merely a variant of obsessive-compulsive disorder that expresses new features due to a novel social framework. To be fair, these issues remain largely unresolved in the similar disorder in girls and women, which has been well defined for much longer. Although it does not resolve the significance of men's obsessions with the body, this book does have the virtue of bringing the question to public attention.

The book's approach to therapy is not enlightening. The authors' approach of cognitive behavioral therapy and medication with selective serotonin-reuptake inhibitors is hardly surprising, but it would not be feasible in the sort of large-scale epidemic they claim is under way. Among the least convincing aspects of this book are the self-help questionnaire and the body-image checklists for self-diagnosis. This populist approach, although de rigeur for do-it-yourself health care books, lacks validation even for use in individual counseling or diagnosis by experts, let alone self-diagnosis by the "worried well" or for use by concerned friends and relatives.

Perhaps the boldest and most important claim the authors make is to have discovered not only a "natural limit" to muscular development without steroids but also a simple formula to detect anabolic-steroid abuse. The hubris of this unproven assertion recalls the equally naive claim of the original Frisch hypothesis that puberty occurred at a threshold body weight, which was inconsistent with the continuing existence of the African Pygmy population. Disseminating to the general public such an unsubstantiated claim masquerading as proven science risks encouraging the misuse of science, undermining its credibility, and misleading the public.

Among the book's weaknesses are its scholarship. Curiously, the authors unhesitatingly question received medical wisdom but seem to lack similar courage when it comes to street folklore about anabolic steroids, much of which they tacitly accept. A prime example is their lack of rigorous analysis of an "entity" called "roid rage." This memorably alliterative epithet, a street description serving mostly as an excuse for bad behavior, is too journalistically good not to be true. Disappointingly, given their backgrounds in psychological medicine, the authors do not question whether this "entity" is really due to drug abuse or is an epiphenomenon of disturbed behavior by men who abuse steroids in the hope of improving their self-image. If ever there was a semiotic argument for the power of naming things, it is the ability of felicitously named entities such as "anabolic steroid" or "roid rage" to outgrow their foundations and outlive their usefulness.

The book contains well-referenced footnotes but no specific bibliography, making it hard to examine its scientific background. The perfunctory and uncritical analyses of published studies presumably also reflect the book's targeting of a popular rather than a professional market -- an impression strengthened by the publisher's description of the book as a "frank and explosive look... for millions who suffer in silence." It would be a pity if this targeting deterred physicians who work with young men from becoming familiar with the book. At the least, it can preemptively forearm physicians whose patients come armed with reams of information from the Internet. For physicians interested in the intersection between media propaganda and public health in modern society, this book is interesting and provocative; for some, it is essential reading. Even those dismissive of its subjective methodology will find its description of a group of men strangely hobbled by this culture of the body beautiful sad, and even moving.

This book's scientific and scholarly weaknesses are also its journalistic strengths. It will form a useful part of the backdrop for doctors in their efforts to deal with the ever-changing facets of drug abuse. This intriguing but flawed book leaves room for a more critical and scholarly appraisal of the modern epidemic of male somatic obsession and its medical dimension of anabolic-steroid abuse. For the expert, however, this book represents more specimen than evidence. Despite its repetitiousness, it is a book that anyone with an interest in the way changing fashions affect health-related forms of behavior cannot afford to ignore.

David Handelsman, M.D., Ph.D.
Copyright © 2001 Massachusetts Medical Society. All rights reserved. The New England Journal of Medicine is a registered trademark of the MMS.

The impossible ideal of the Body Beautiful induces feelings of inadequacy not only among women and girls, claim the authors of this book, but, increasingly, among men and boys. Drawing upon their own clinical work, new studies and cultural observations, the authors--Pope and Olivardia teach at Harvard medical school, and Phillips at Brown University--make a compelling argument that growing numbers of males are exhibiting compulsive behaviors, chronic depressions and eating disorders, and are engaging in the use of dangerous steroids and "supplements." Although they ignore the nearly century-old popularity of Charles Atlas-like muscle-building "courses," the authors use a broad range of examples--including comparisons of the physiques of bodybuilders in the 1960s and the 1990s, a look at the evolution of the G.I. Joe doll's bulk and an examination of the nearly unobtainable body ideal that prevails among Chippendale dancers and Calvin Klein models--to make the convincing case that many men resort to dire actions to assuage their feelings of inadequacy. They bolster their claim with numerous interviews with men and a survey of the existing medical and psychological literature, and include tests by which readers can ascertain if they have an eating disorder or suffer from Body Dysmorphic Disorder. While some readers might take exception to the authors' assertion about the prevalence of the "Adonis complex," their book offers a provocative look at what has been, until now, a largely unexplored subject. Agent, Todd Schuster. (June)
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

In the last 20 years, increasing numbers of men and boys have become obsessed with obtaining the perfect body exemplified by body builders, male models, and professional wrestlers. This excessive concern with appearance can lead to compulsive exercise, steroid abuse, eating disorders, and, in extreme cases, body dysmorphic disorder, a serious psychiatric condition. Acknowledging that few men will admit these preoccupations, the authors of these two books seek to bring these issues to a wider audience and to promote more realistic goals for male physique and fitness. Written in a popular, almost sensational style, The Adonis Complex discusses and summarizes research coordinated by Harvard researchers Pope (psychiatry) and Robert Olivardia (psychology) and Katharine A. Phillips (psychiatry, Brown Univ.; The Broken Mirror: Understanding and Treating Body Dysmorphic Disorder). Pope and his associates first document changes in advertisements, Playgirl centerfolds, and toys such as G.I. Joe to demonstrate how the steroid-hyped male torso became an ideal beyond the capability of most men. They then report on results of a computerized body image test given to male college students that showed, across cultures, a dissatisfaction with physical appearance and a tendency to misjudge the physique desirable to the opposite sex. Using case studies and self-tests, the team goes on to describe and outline treatment for specific problems and dispel myths about weight and steroid use. Separate chapters address concerns for boys, gays, lovers, and friends... [R]ecommended for public library collections.
Lucille M. Boone, San Jose P.L., CA
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter One: Secrets of the Men at the Olympic Gym

It is 6 P.M. on a warm spring evening in a small city ten miles west of Boston. In an industrial park near the highway, the two-storied, white-brick Olympic Gym is surrounded by nearly half an acre of parking, but the lot is overflowing with cars. Some are old Fords and Chevys belonging to students at the nearby college; others are the pickups and delivery trucks of tradesmen and service men who've stopped to lift weights after work. There are also pristine Corvettes and Porsches, a Mercedes or two, and half a dozen BMWs. Every social class in America has come here to work out.

Inside, the frenetic beat of "Get Ready for This" is punctuated by the occasional clanging of a weight stack on a machine, or a 45-pound plate being loaded onto a bar. Although the gym has half an acre of floor space, it still seems crowded. Groups of weightlifters cluster around the cables and the squat racks; others wait to use the lat pull-down machine or the Roman chair. A blond-haired twenty-six-year-old trainer instructs a prominent Boston attorney on the fine points of abdominal exercises. The gym's owner is out on the floor, giving a tour of the facilities to two young high school students who want to sign up. Wide-eyed and slightly frail-looking, they glance furtively at two big bodybuilders doing shoulder presses at the dumbbell rack nearby. Dozens of treadmills, StairMasters, stationary bicycles, and ergometers hum and whir on the balcony overhead. At the front counter, a handsome, highly muscular staff member, still in his teens, smiles brightly and mixes protein shakes in a blender as groups of clients joke together, read magazines, and search for their car keys among the hundreds of key rings hanging on the big pegboard on the wall. And this is only the evening crowd. At five-thirty tomorrow morning, twenty or thirty people will line up at the door, waiting eagerly for the gym to open. A hundred more will show up over the next couple of hours to lift weights before work. They will be followed by dozens of lunchtime regulars, with many stragglers in between.

The Olympic Gym has 2,400 members, and it is only one of several gyms in this small city of 60,000. All over the United States, in small towns, suburbs, and cities, big gyms like this one have their own large and faithful followings. In greater Boston alone, the major gyms collectively count well over 100,000 members -- and some metropolitan areas have far more. As recently as twenty or thirty years ago, you would hardly ever see a crowd like this at any gym, with the possible exception of a few hard-core bodybuilding establishments in Southern California. But over the last two decades, gym memberships have exploded across America.

More than two-thirds of the people working out at the Olympic Gym tonight are men. Some wear old T-shirts and dirty cutoff shorts; others are carefully dressed in striped workout pants and Olympic Gym sweatshirts; a few wear deep-cut tank tops and tight spandex shorts, carefully chosen to show off their musculature. But the "muscleheads" are only a small minority of the gym community. Most of the members are ordinary-looking guys: they're a slice of America, ranging from squeaky-voiced boys of twelve or thirteen to gray-haired elders in their seventies.

You would think that the men at the Olympic Gym, or any gym, would be happy with their bodies. After all, they're here getting in shape rather than vegetating on the couch watching TV after work. But surprisingly, many aren't content at all. Many, in fact, harbor nagging anxieties about how they look. They don't talk about it publicly -- and they may not even admit it to themselves -- but they suffer silently from chronic shame and low self-esteem about their bodies and themselves. And many are obsessed with trying to change how they look. Beneath the seemingly benign exterior of this scene at Olympic, and among millions of other men around the country, a crisis is brewing.

If we begin to look carefully around the gym, we see hints of this crisis everywhere. John and Mark, both twenty-four-year-old graduate students at a nearby university, are at the counter debating what kinds of protein supplements to buy from the bewildering display of boxes that crowd the wall. Many of the boxes boast "supermale" images: photographs of smiling bodybuilders with massive shoulders, rock-hard pectorals, and impossibly sculptured and chiseled abdominal muscles. All of the supermales exude health, power, and sexuality. Not even the biggest bodybuilder at the Olympic Gym resembles these images, and John and Mark don't come close -- even though they've been lifting weights for years and have spent thousands of dollars on nutritional supplements they hoped would thin their waists, stomachs, and buttocks, while swelling their chests, arms, and thighs. Privately, John and Mark are slightly embarrassed that they don't even begin to look like the guys in the pictures. But they've never admitted these concerns to anyone.

Supermale images appear not only on the boxes of protein powder, but throughout the gym. They're on magazine covers in the waiting area, on posters on the walls, and on a clothes advertisement posted on the bulletin board. John examines a magazine showing amazing "before" and "after" pictures of a middle-aged man who appears to have transformed in three months from a couch potato into a muscle-bound hunk, allegedly with the help of the food supplement advertised. John has tried a lot of food supplements himself, and he wonders why he still hasn't achieved the same Herculean image. All of these displays convey the same message to men: If you're a real man, you should look bigger and better than you do.

While John may feel as though he's the only guy at the gym who's so worried about his appearance and size, in reality he's surrounded by many others with similar secret feelings. But lost in his own thoughts of insecurity, John doesn't seem to notice all the other men who are covertly checking out their reflections in the big mirrors that line the walls. When they're sure that nobody is looking, some flex their arms, puff out their chests, or suck in their stomachs, almost as a reflex gesture. They don't say anything, of course. But many, like John, can't stop thinking about the discrepancy between the image in the mirror and the one they desperately want.

Alan, a math teacher from nearby Cambridge, notices, for the tenth or the twentieth time that day, the stubborn ring of fat that has accumulated around his abdomen in the years since college. Bob, a truckdriver, wears a baseball cap with the visor turned back, even though he's thirty-eight years old and the baseball-cap look is usually reserved for teenagers. But he'd rather wear the cap than expose his "prematurely" receding hairline. Meanwhile, John himself wears three layers of shirts -- a T-shirt, then a regular shirt on top, and then a sweatshirt on top of that. He's sweating inside all of those layers, but they make him look bigger, and he's ashamed of how small he'd look without them. Bertrand, an attorney in his fifties who arrived a few minutes earlier in an immaculate, six-foot-high sport utility vehicle, despondently eyes his unappealing reflection in the mirror next to the drinking fountain. Above the drinking fountain, a poster of a famous bodybuilder twice his size, majestically posing on a rocky summit in the desert, stares back at him.

These are men who have achieved success in their careers; some are leaders in their community. They come from different classes, races, and sociological backgrounds. But they are all victims of a relentless message: You don't look good enough. Most of the time, men are unable to talk to each other about this message and the inferiority it makes them feel. So the message gets louder, the problem becomes bigger

Edition details

• Publisher: Free Press
• Publication date: 2000
• ISBN 10: 0684869101
• ISBN 13: 9780684869100
• Binding: Hardcover
• Language: English
• Edition number: 1
• Number of pages: 304