In “The Science of Yoga,” William J. Broad brings something unusual to his subject: an open mind. Broad, the book’s biographical note informs us, has practiced yoga since 1970. For nearly that long he has also been a science reporter for The New York Times, writing books like “Teller’s War: The Top-Secret Story Behind the Star Wars Deception” along the way. But Broad brings neither the boosterism of a yoga devotee nor the leeriness of a professional skeptic to his project — just curiosity, energy and a commitment to follow where his investigations lead. That route turns out to be a long and meandering one, ending up at an ambiguous, or at least ambivalent, conclusion. Though “The Science of Yoga” lacks the clarity of a book that sets out to define and defend a preconceived position, what it does offer is an intellectually honest exploration that is true to yoga’s own winding path.Broad’s objective is simple enough: to evaluate in scientific terms the claims made for yoga. But this turns out to be more complicated than it seems. For one thing, there are the sheer number and variety of those claims: yoga, it is said, can prevent heart disease, reverse aging, eliminate pain, and bestow serenity and peace. Broad patiently and exhaustively examines the evidence for each of these assertions, revealing surprises along the way. Yes, yoga can reduce anxiety and improve mood. No, it won’t help the overweight shed pounds. Yes, it may actually slow the body’s biological clock. Broad doesn’t just discuss the results of the scientific literature; he weighs the relative prestige of the journal in which the studies were published and scrutinizes each experiment’s design and methodology. This is more information than some readers may want, but Broad leaves no doubt that he’s done his homework.
This dogged pursuit of the truth about yoga enables Broad to excavate its remarkable history. He combs through decades of studies, talks to hundreds of scientists and practitioners and roams the world in search of the real deal on yoga. Locating its origins in India thousands of years ago, he recounts his visits to “historians, archives, literary societies and more, traveling by bus, subway, bicycle rickshaw and train (open doors, looking out over villages and smoky morning fires).” In Calcutta, he visits a library so obscure and little-used that dust covers the books and cobwebs hang, horror-movie style, from the ceiling. What he finds in these records bears little resemblance to the yoga we know today as the quintessential activity of a clean-living, upper-middle-class American lifestyle. The yogis of old, Broad notes, “were often vagabonds who engaged in ritual sex or showmen who contorted their bodies to win alms — even while dedicating their lives to high spirituality.” They read palms, interpreted dreams and sold charms; they promoted yoga as the way to sexual ecstasy (“yoga,” Broad tells us, means “union,” and not just the spiritual kind).
Yoga’s bid for respectability began with its home country’s campaign for independence from Britain. In 1924, an Indian nationalist named Jagannath G. Gune established a sprawling compound dedicated to the scientific study of yoga. The goal was to give the ancient and often unsavory ritual “a bright new face that radiated with science and hygiene, health and fitness” — to present it as an indigenous practice that Indians could point to as proof of both their traditional wisdom and their swift modernization. The rebranding was a spectacular success. Yoga as a means to physical fitness and psychological equilibrium spread quickly around the world, and once it reached the United States in the early years of the 20th century, it changed yet again. Broad uncovers the fascinating fact that many of the practices we associate most closely with yoga, like the flowing series of poses known as the Sun Salutation, have no ancient pedigree, but are instead modern inventions.If this history is recounted in intricate, perhaps excessive detail (it comes complete with a list of “main characters” that spans seven pages), one grows to appreciate Broad’s conscientiousness upon arriving at his chapter on yoga injuries — a real risk, he argues persuasively, that has been largely overlooked. The notion that a person can be hurt while engaging in yoga, Broad writes, “runs counter to yoga’s reputation for healing and its promotion of superior levels of fitness and well-being”; many current practitioners turned to yoga after being injured by more high-impact activities. Nevertheless, he makes a strong case that without careful precautions, yoga can produce painful or incapacitating impairments in the form of torn Achilles tendons, nerve damage, back injuries and even stroke.But Broad isn’t done yet. His chapter on injuries is followed by discussions of yoga’s power — real or not — to heal disease, enhance sexuality and uplift the spirit. His conclusion? “The discipline on balance does more good than harm.” It can relieve stress and decrease pain, but along with the possibility of serious injury, it can also lead to disappointment for those expecting a miraculous change to their bodies or psyches.In other words, yoga is a decidedly mixed bag. Yet after centuries of practice by millions of people, how could this bag not be filled with gems and gimmicks, treasures and trash?Nor is yoga at the end of its evolution. Broad details the recent growth of the “yoga industrial complex,” the big business of selling books, magazines, DVDs, clothes and the mats that seem to inhabit every tote bag carried in brownstone Brooklyn and on the Upper West Side. And he brings us up to date on current trends in yoga practice, documenting the popularity of routines that combine yoga poses with vigorous aerobic exercise. These very un-serene styles include Ashtanga yoga, Bikram yoga and YogaFit, whose “YogaButt” program promises “a bottom that is ‘sleek and sexy.’ ”
Appropriately, yoga seems to have come full circle: flush with cash and focused on perfecting the body, modern yoga has returned to its earthy origins in money and sex. Not that Broad traces anything so neat as a circle. True to his open-minded orientation, he resists final summations, leaving ample room for yoga’s next self-transformation.
Courtesy:Annie Murphy Paul, the author of “Origins: How the Nine Months Before Birth Shape the Rest of Our Lives,” is writing a book about the science of learning.
Source:NewYork Times
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