Issue link: https://www.massageandbodyworkdigital.com/i/81195
sore backs, chronic stress, and collapsed posture? My knuckles are looking a bit swollen today, so I must ask: why not a swollen savings account to match? COURTROOM OR CLASSROOM? When we think of science in the practice of massage, we often think "proof." We "I want to give you the feeling that it's all right to be insecure." Ida Rolf, creator, Rolfi ng see things happen in our practice, and then we wait impatiently for science to catch up and confi rm it. For example: it is entirely obvious to me that massage therapy can help reduce headache pain. I see it work in nearly every case, and I'm basically waiting for the courtroom to prove me right. But as long as I fi xate on pure vindication, I never get to the questions that could actually refi ne my bodywork practice: What about the type of headache? Duration of relief? Anatomical focus? Mechanism of action? Modality of massage? Combination with other therapies? When science becomes a tool of leverage to me, it loses its potential to teach me anything. Besides its numbing effect, waiting for proof is tedious. I learned this in high school, where bibliographies replaced bullies as my main stressor. Research was something I did in order to win arguments and avoid reprisal. If that's all that science can offer, no thanks—I'd rather just focus on my bodywork. Leave the research to the researchers, and the Internet debates to those without dinner plans. The "courtroom" view of science goes way beyond massage and health care: with lazy news coverage, political fabrications, malpractice litigation, and commercial greed, we've all built up a cynical fi xation on being proven right. But proof is about as far from most science as touchdowns are from tennis. "Scientifi c knowledge is in perpetual evolution; it fi nds itself changed from one day to the next," says psychologist and philosopher Jean Piaget.1 Proof for the scientist is at best a sort of North Star; a beacon that gives direction, but can never be reached. THE LANGUAGE OF INTEGRATION Science is born of constant disagreement. Everyone jockeys for authority, and everyone is eventually guaranteed defeat. Even before skeptics try to shoot others down, they endure their own strongest critiques. In the deadpanned words of naturopath, osteopath, and acupuncturist Leon Chaitow, "It's a bit of an ego-stripper."2 You would think this to be a pointless exercise, and yet people keep contributing. Almost like expert gardeners, they respond to defeat by making a closer observation of things. They refi ne their methods, go to conferences, and collect opinions. Sometimes (not always) they even befriend their adversaries; they may oppose each other on one level, but they also care deeply about building something together. Science is propelled by these antagonisms, just as our muscles hold us aloft in precise opposition. This is a cultural fact that often creates "Truth springs from argument amongst friends." David Hume, philosopher, historian, economist, and essayist confusion for bodyworkers. If another massage therapist said to me, "Hey, you're full of it. Your beliefs are wrong," I am likely to smile and stop talking to him or her. But to a scientist, this little jab is the beginning of a conversation and not the end. In fact, science constructs all its communities to facilitate high-quality argument. Health-care research scientist, author, and educator Martha Menard calls science "a social activity ... [that] takes place via human interaction, through informal communication among colleagues, more Celebrate ABMP's 25th anniversary and you may win a refund on your membership. ABMP.com. 59