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A friend posted this article on Facebook, which, as someone who flies a lot, I've been mulling over. One of the recommendations in particular - specifically the one to wear a mask on the flight, despite the social repercussions - is making me think hard about self-image, and how much weight we ascribe to maintaining that, even in the light of serious potential repercussions.
Purely from a health perspective, wearing a mask on a plane is an unmitigated positive. It keeps your mucous membranes from drying out in the dehumidified air, it blocks airborne pathogens, and it provides a barrier to keep you from touching your nose and mouth (and thus transferring surface-borne germs to those ever-important mucous membranes). And it requires little effort and even less maintenance, with no physical side effects.
But, as the overwhelming mask-less majority of plane passengers demonstrate, health reasons aren't the only ones to consider. There's a strong social negative to mask-wearing, even in as understandable an environment as a plane. Facial coverings in general carry a strong stigma in Western culture, as the only people we think of as regularly sporting them are religious conservatives and those who have reason to hide their identity (bank robbers and what have you). Even surgical masks, which are purely medical in implication, imply hypochondria when worn outside a hospital.
Thing is, that doesn't seem like it should be a serious issue for me. I have a strong streak of social iconoclasm, and have in the past lost large chunks of vacation time (and, once, the strength of my lower back muscles) to airplane-transmitted colds. It's happened so often that my mother has taken to stocking NyQuil in her guest bathroom sink. A few hours of uncomfortable social interactions seem, objectively, like they shouldn't outweigh days of misery, especially highly-valued vacation days. I like to think I'm generally more pragmatic than I am vain; it's why I'll wear zinc oxide sunscreen if I'm out in the sun for any length of time, even though it makes me look like a Cullen sibling.
And yet...and yet. I am vain. It's hardly news that being attractive and well-dressed nets you social perks, and I don't relish the idea of trading those perks in for a liability, especially during an already-miserable experience. I could certainly claim to be getting over a cold and not wanting to pass on the germs to others, but that would only counteract the issue with those willing and able to listen in the first place.
Upon further rumination, however, it occurs to me that it's not just vanity at work. In our culture, we regularly tie cleanliness to moral character. We have a strong streak of victim-blaming when it comes to disease: they must not have washed their hands, they must not have used enough disinfectant, they must not have followed proper protocol when working in the infectious disease ward. To an extent, that's a positive to group survival, since it motivates us to make extra sure we're doing what we can to prevent disease transmission. But it makes surgical masks socially fraught, since merely by wearing one you're delivering a low-level but undeniable insult to those around you by implying that they aren't hygenic.
On the whole, then, I was somewhat relieved to come across this investigation while I researched this post. According to the microbiologists interviewed there, it's far less likely to be the recirculated air (which passes through multiple HEPA filters as part of the plane's system) that gets you sick than the huge colonies of microorganisms on various surfaces, especially the bathrooms and aisle seats. So instead of wearing a mask, I think I'm going to spend my next couple of flights with a packet of Clorox wipes and some Purell, and see how that serves.
And, of course, dressed nicely. Because I'm just a little vain.
Purely from a health perspective, wearing a mask on a plane is an unmitigated positive. It keeps your mucous membranes from drying out in the dehumidified air, it blocks airborne pathogens, and it provides a barrier to keep you from touching your nose and mouth (and thus transferring surface-borne germs to those ever-important mucous membranes). And it requires little effort and even less maintenance, with no physical side effects.
But, as the overwhelming mask-less majority of plane passengers demonstrate, health reasons aren't the only ones to consider. There's a strong social negative to mask-wearing, even in as understandable an environment as a plane. Facial coverings in general carry a strong stigma in Western culture, as the only people we think of as regularly sporting them are religious conservatives and those who have reason to hide their identity (bank robbers and what have you). Even surgical masks, which are purely medical in implication, imply hypochondria when worn outside a hospital.
Thing is, that doesn't seem like it should be a serious issue for me. I have a strong streak of social iconoclasm, and have in the past lost large chunks of vacation time (and, once, the strength of my lower back muscles) to airplane-transmitted colds. It's happened so often that my mother has taken to stocking NyQuil in her guest bathroom sink. A few hours of uncomfortable social interactions seem, objectively, like they shouldn't outweigh days of misery, especially highly-valued vacation days. I like to think I'm generally more pragmatic than I am vain; it's why I'll wear zinc oxide sunscreen if I'm out in the sun for any length of time, even though it makes me look like a Cullen sibling.
And yet...and yet. I am vain. It's hardly news that being attractive and well-dressed nets you social perks, and I don't relish the idea of trading those perks in for a liability, especially during an already-miserable experience. I could certainly claim to be getting over a cold and not wanting to pass on the germs to others, but that would only counteract the issue with those willing and able to listen in the first place.
Upon further rumination, however, it occurs to me that it's not just vanity at work. In our culture, we regularly tie cleanliness to moral character. We have a strong streak of victim-blaming when it comes to disease: they must not have washed their hands, they must not have used enough disinfectant, they must not have followed proper protocol when working in the infectious disease ward. To an extent, that's a positive to group survival, since it motivates us to make extra sure we're doing what we can to prevent disease transmission. But it makes surgical masks socially fraught, since merely by wearing one you're delivering a low-level but undeniable insult to those around you by implying that they aren't hygenic.
On the whole, then, I was somewhat relieved to come across this investigation while I researched this post. According to the microbiologists interviewed there, it's far less likely to be the recirculated air (which passes through multiple HEPA filters as part of the plane's system) that gets you sick than the huge colonies of microorganisms on various surfaces, especially the bathrooms and aisle seats. So instead of wearing a mask, I think I'm going to spend my next couple of flights with a packet of Clorox wipes and some Purell, and see how that serves.
And, of course, dressed nicely. Because I'm just a little vain.
