This Loneliness Awareness week I felt compelled to write about a topic that is often discussed and equally misconstrued – touch in yoga.
Rooted in conversations around sexual harassment and harmful adjustments, discourse about touch has become muddled, mixing informed content with paranoia. What began as a well-intended argument for sensitivity and respecting boundaries somehow morphed into a condemnation of all touch as inappropriate. But it’s not a black and white issue. As with so many complex topics around the human experience, there are those who bypass the nuances of touch, casting blanket dispersions over something that warrants individual methods and techniques as diverse as the practitioners themselves. What follows is a casual blog and is in no way intended to be an extensive study of each aspect. It’s merely an overview to highlight that discourse on touch is not straightforward.
To sort through the tangled threads of touch in a yoga class, we’ll begin with the source – teachers.
Yoga is a movement craft which incorporates philosophy. As modern yoga has evolved into a multi-billion-dollar industry, a focus on revenue has resulted in teacher training courses becoming increasingly shorter in order to expedite turnover. The more teachers that are churned out, the more likely a studio will remain open, especially since class numbers have become unreliable for economic stability. Brief courses become problematic when underqualified teachers with little to no education about anatomy, trauma-sensitivity, or asana variations manually adjust students. Conversely, there are some underqualified teachers who will exploit the debate about touch in order to rationalise never leaving their own mat to engage with students.
For those who argue 200 hours is sufficient than why are there so many CPD courses to address the fundamentals? Moreover, if women comprise the majority of yoga’s population and it’s understood 3 out of 4 women have been sexually abused or harassed in their lifetime, why is trauma-sensitivity training not a standard criterion of the adjudication process rather than a supplemental option? The experience of gendered violence is likely to impact a person’s response to touch, but a teacher, properly trained in trauma-sensitivity and accomplished in cultivating trust, should know when or if touch is appropriate which begs the question –
is the issue about touch, or insufficiently-trained teachers?
Another argument against touch has been the claim that we need to be respectful of neurodivergent individuals. Diversity strengthens community and while it is important to respect the needs of each student, it’s also relevant to note not all neurodivergency presents as an aversion to touch.
Rethinking a complete absence of touch in yoga doesn’t deny their existence, but we need to remember it’s estimated only 15% of the population are defined as neurodiverse. Should the remaining 85% go without touch just in case they’re neurodivergent? Are teachers asking for sufficient health information from students who can then choose whether or not to identify as neurodivergent? Questionnaires are in place not only for safety of instruction, but so that students are empowered to guide the interaction with teachers. If students choose not to disclose their neurodivergency, the teacher cannot be held responsible for the consequences if their methods do not align with said individual’s needs. Accountability works both ways.
Is the issue about touch, or are teachers not learning enough about individual students to respect their needs?
An element often missing in conversations around touch in yoga is the influence of culture. And let’s be clear, this can’t be dismissed as a simple divide between east and west.
All nations are an amalgamation of unique cultures. In the U.S., greeting a familiar on the west coast is commonly with a hug versus cheek kissing on the east coast. In Saudi Arabia men who are friends may hold hands and in South Korea, women will link arms. The cultures we are from – familial, religious, socio-economic, political – will have a direct influence on our perceptions of touch. There are some families where affection is withheld and others where physical affection is showered upon everyone; some religious teachings regard the body as unclean and physical contact taboo while others recognise affection as a method of social bonding.
Is the issue about touch, or is it our culture influencing our perspectives on it?
Reflecting on cultural influences we must also include the effects of internalised patriarchy, and I would argue this is where the root of the problem lies, but let’s not oversimplify it as women versus men.
Patriarchy manifests as dysfunctional hierarchies based upon superficial rather than earned merit; assumed authority and submission based upon gender, wealth, or lineage. This is where part of the conversation justifiably began around touch in yoga.
We live in a world where women are both subliminally and explicitly taught that men have certain inalienable rights over their body, and men are taught women’s bodies and minds are part of their rightful dominion. It’s baked into every religion’s teachings to rationalise that authority, including Hinduism. The controversy around touch arises when the fundamental impetus, control over another, is rejected by the individual, a woman believing they have bodily autonomy. Let’s be honest, this rejection contradicts the global cultural norm when religion, politics, and culture state it is natural and expected for a woman to be submissive. Yet somehow we have the audacity to be shocked when assault occurs even though too many of us still refuse to even acknowledge the existence of patriarchy, never mind its impacts upon the yoga community. We complain about the weeds but ignore the roots.
And that’s before we consider the effects of narcissism and people pleasers in the yoga environment.
Is the issue about touch, or are we ignoring the systemic roots that enable problematic behaviour in the first place?
So what does any of this have to do with loneliness?
There are many who are in support of removing all touch from yoga arguing that the detrimental risks are too great to justify its use in class. While I completely agree that each individual’s boundaries should be respected, I also believe we cannot treat every student the same whether in variations of poses or assuming outright that no physical contact is appropriate. And this is where the discussion of loneliness is applicable.
Statistics are clear that loneliness is a growing epidemic; over 50% in the U.K. of varying degrees and at different ages struggle with it yet it remains a stigma few are willing to admit to. Loneliness for the elderly means that 3% of them can go a week without speaking to a friend or family member, let alone experience physical contact. I would argue the expectation to eliminate all touch from yoga could be considered ageist.
I specialise in working with people at mid-life and beyond, an age demographic notorious for divorce, widowhood, and isolation. My time teaching seniors has taught me the importance of touch; a hand on the shoulder, a gentle squeeze of the feet, can sometimes be a much-needed kindness in a society that increasingly devalues and dismisses them. Over the years I have had more than a few students share emotional comments of gratitude after class feeling that someone cares about them. But it’s not just older students who will be missing a touch of kindness in their lives.
There are those in our class who may be single or struggling in abusive relationships that lack affection. Some people who have experienced distress, including body shaming, may be more touch averse because it’s a tactile reminder of the harassment, but what about those for whom trauma has left them craving touch? When neglect and abandonment have left their body starving for oxytocin, their nervous system without support?
Is the issue about touch, or are we projecting our own lifestyle, circumstances, and time of life onto others?
No, we shouldn’t force touch upon another person, but speaking as someone from a dancer’s background where students are often jostled about, as someone who has witnessed the detrimental effects of withholding touch on the body, mind, and emotions, let’s not lump all touch in yoga into the category of something negative. Humans have evolved physiologically to need touch. We are a pack species and to remove the opportunity for touch will leave some students to deteriorate. If we remove the intimate relationship from yoga, are we ourselves forcing it to become just another sterile exercise class rather than a study of human connection?