This Is Not Another Commentary About Miley Cyrus. (In the Name of Love 3)

Trust me – this is not about Miley Cyrus. Not really.

In fact, she herself deserves no more public attention for her performance with Robin Thicke at the VMAs two weeks ago. There have already been countless terabytes of commentary about their act, which is probably what they were aiming for in the first place.

This post is not really about any of that. This is about the struggle that billions of us around the world have with body image issues. And it’s about confronting unhealthy messages about body image that gain prominence in global conversation. While Cyrus’ and Thicke’s performance was disturbing on many levels, they broadcasted a clearly unhealthy message about bodies – i.e., that some bodies are of greater value than others. This idea, taken as a given in worldwide popular media, leads to untold human insecurity, anxiety, and suffering. That’s especially true for folks whose bodies are quite different from the dominant ideals of beauty in their cultures. Further, this toxic notion gives rise not only to body image issues, but even eating disorders and other self-destructive behaviors.

You might say, “Whoa there, isn’t that a bit extreme to call it a ‘toxic’ notion?” I would say it’s not extreme at all! Just think about how beauty ideals change from culture to culture, and century to century. For example, if someone with a fuller figure in one society is the ideal of beauty, would she lose any of her actual beauty if transplanted to another time and place? Of course not. The assumption that some bodies are of greater value than others is false.

Then you may ask, “Well, how did Cyrus and Thicke communicate this?” I’ll begin with the faux physical violence between Cyrus and one of her dancers. At one point in the performance, she puts her face between the dancer’s butt cheeks to simulate a sexual pose, and then slaps the dancer’s tush. It’s a crude attempt at humor. But in our society, doing that in public demeans the other person. Doing that in her act says it’s okay to use someone else’s intimate parts for laughs. In other words, the dignity and value of someone else’s body is not as important as her own.

Let’s also look at Cyrus’ dancers as a whole. Tressie McMillan Cottom, a researcher at Emory University, points out that the African American women who danced with Cyrus onstage were all “particularly rotund.” A Black woman herself, Ms. Cottom identifies her own body type as being similar to that of the dancers, saying that “Cyrus’ dancers look more like me than they do Rihanna or Beyonce or Halle Berry.” Surely this was not a coincidence, Ms. Cottom says, and I agree. Visually, they provide a contrast that spotlights Cyrus’ white, slender body, which conforms much more closely to the dominant beauty ideal in our society. (Even Maxim ranked Cyrus number one on its 2013 list of the sexiest 100 women.) My point here is that she uses the bodies of plus-sized, African American women to make her own body look better. Again, the value of others’ bodies is less than that of her own.

This brings to mind the 2013 Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. In several images, it juxtaposes light-skinned, bikini-clad models with ethnic minority people from poorer regions in Africa and Asia. In a similar way to Cyrus, Sports Illustrated uses poor people of color and their bodies to emphasize the beauty of its models. The message, once more, is that some bodies are more valuable than others.

But back to the VMAs. There’s also Thicke’s part in the routine, along with rappers 2 Chainz and T.I. The three men choose to stay fully clothed throughout the entire performance while surrounded by scantily-clad women. (Okay, Thicke does strip off his sunglasses at one point.) It not only shows a clothing imbalance between the men and the women, it represents a value imbalance. The women in the scene have removed much of their clothing, so as to appeal to the male gaze. But the men do not reciprocate; they are content to passively receive. This conveys that it’s okay for women’s bodies to be reduced to mere objects for male pleasure. It dehumanizes the women and strips their bodies of dignity. It says, once more, that some bodies are just not particularly valuable, especially when compared to others.

Again, this has not truly been about Miley Cyrus, or Robin Thicke, or the VMAs. It’s been about responding to the unhealthy message about bodies that they broadcasted into the global conversation. For me, I confront it for my daughters’ sake, because I hope they can come of age in a less body-shaming society. To be honest, I do it for my own sake, too, because plenty of us men also struggle with body image.

So here’s a song with a true message, translated from the Hebrew Tanakh. The poet says to God, his Maker:

You are the one who created my innermost parts;
you knit me together while I was still in my mother’s womb.
I give thanks to you that I was marvelously set apart.
Your works are wonderful; I know that very well.

So remember, no one’s body is more beautiful than yours!

No matter what Miley Cyrus or anyone says.

To see Ms. Cottom’s commentary in full, check out her blog post, “When Your (Brown) Body Is a (White) Wonderland.”
For an excellent primer on why Cyrus’ and Thicke’s routine was racially offensive, see Professor Holly Derr’s article for The Atlantic.