WEEKEND COLUMNISTS It used to be seen as embarrassing, extravagant, foolish. But improving your looks under the surgeon’s knife has now passed the stage of social unorthodoxy to become something acceptable, appealing – even fun. Just think of the rise of Botox parties, where a nurse wielding the syringe will come to you (and the host gets a discount).
In Los Angeles, studies of women found that more than two-thirds of respondents were interested in having cosmetic surgery. In the UK, a study of female university students showed that low body mass index, lack of body appreciation and media influence were predictors of a desire for cosmetic surgery. Indeed, one US study links watching TV makeover shows with a more favourable attitude towards cosmetic surgery, as well as an increased pressure to try it. This does not necessarily prove cause and effect, but it does raise the question of how people acquire enthusiasm for these procedures.
But if I was uncomfortable about the cosmetic surgery industry before, I have now become extremely unhappy. A few weeks ago I received a flyer for a conference organised by Glasgow University on “Advances in Cosmetic Surgery and Non-Surgical Treatment” to be held at the city’s Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons. This was a chance to hear about facial rejuvenation, lipomodelling, Botox or fillers, breast implants and uplifts. I found it utterly dispiriting. There was no session on how to tell a 17-year-old that she definitely did not need thigh reshaping or breast implants. For all that I am against medical paternalism, people need protection from the vulnerability that may have pushed them on to the surgeon’s table.
There is, for example, a phenomenon called “appearance-based rejection sensitivity”, which is a measure of excessive body-image concerns. High levels are known to be a predictor of acceptance of cosmetic surgery. It is also known that low self-esteem, paired with a high social acceptance for cosmetic surgery, increases the likelihood of an individual choosing cosmetic procedures. In the US, it is thought that body dysmorphic disorder – where people see part of their body as ugly or deformed – affects about 1 per cent of the population, but 7 to 15 per cent of people who undergo cosmetic surgery.
I am dismayed that cosmetic surgery has become so normal. And I don’t think we have even begun to consider the potential damage. I believe in Darwin: we are still evolving. Do we want every future child born to be signed up for cosmetic surgery, just to keep up with mum and dad? We can change our face, but not our genes.
Margaret McCartney is a GP in Glasgow
margaret.mccartney@ft.com
For lively discussion of the latest medical issues go to Margaret McCartney’s blog at www.ft.com/healthblog
