Читать книгу The Age of Fitness - Jürgen Martschukat - Страница 8

Anyone who practices cycling – whether the average Joe on their Sunday morning bike ride or a pro ascending the Alpe d’Huez – almost certainly has a little computer on their handlebars. This measures speed, distance traveled and altitude attained, but also, depending on the device, one’s pulse rate, cadence, and power output in watts. The number of calories (supposedly) burned is also shown. The goal is obvious: the bike computer is an aid to self-observation. It is intended to provide information about the cyclist’s performance level and help optimize their activity, perfect their body, and enhance their potential. The symbiosis of body and technology, fundamental to cycling in any case, has reached a new level.¹

As far as the targeted improvement of one’s performance is concerned, however, such a device has a shortcoming. It registers very precisely what is happening on the bike (only the physical performance, of course, not the joy of movement, let alone the pleasure derived from the landscape). But it records nothing of one’s life outside exercise. The device is unaware of how much exercise I get overall, how much beer I drink, whether I eat a lot of fatty meat and potato chips, and whether I get enough quality sleep. To observe and evaluate these things requires a different technology. If a smartphone is equipped with a corresponding app and supplemented by some gadgets, then one’s behavior can be tracked, measured, and evaluated 24 hours a day. This is known as fitness tracking or self-tracking. One can also use a smartwatch or a fitness wristband to do this. Measuring and recording one’s actions thus permeates everyday life, even when one is fast asleep – and all in the name of performance.

In Germany, about a third of the population is said to record data on movement, eating, sleeping, and bodily trends in one way or another. In the United States the figure is claimed to be almost 70 percent, though the numbers vary widely, depending on who one asks and what, exactly, one is talking about.² In 2007, the Quantified Self (QS) movement was launched in the San Francisco Bay Area, and it has now spread throughout the Western world. Its adherents not only measure their bodily, behavioral, and environmental parameters. They also submit to psychological tests, genome sequencing and much more besides. The goal, as stated on the website of the German QS-Community, is to “reflect upon ourselves and understand what allows us to make better, more informed decisions.”³ Many self-trackers share their knowledge and data on the Internet with a community of like-minded people who are both their associates and competitors. Health insurance providers on both sides of the Atlantic are now offering discounts to those willing to practice self-tracking and fitness tracking or to submit the data generated. They have developed relevant apps or provide the necessary technology. According to the insurance companies, this makes it possible to identify the risk of illness earlier and more effectively.⁴

This raises sensitive social and political issues concerning electronic patient records and “big data” in the healthcare system. But my concern here is with a quite different matter, namely self-tracking as a paradigmatic practice of a culture and society that revolves around free individuals, competition, market, and performance as its essential principles. The QS movement itself underscores that its activities are oriented toward “every sphere of life.” Hence, its concept of fitness goes far beyond sports and physical workouts as such. Certainly, in the first instance self-trackers are out to determine their relationship with their own bodies. Yet at the same time, their actions and the data generated make it possible to establish relationships between the body, the individual, their society, and the environment in which they live. In a society based on its members’ autonomy and efficiency, self-tracking can even be considered a practice of engaged citizenship. Citizenship, then, is more than a legal concept. It encompasses the question of who is recognized as a productive member of society, why, and who may make certain claims on this basis. If working on your own fitness is a key criterion for this recognition, then the cyclist of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries is the prototype of the good citizen.⁵