Money shouldn’t grow on trees
At first glance, the practice of Forest Bathing should be difficult to commodify. Derived from the Japanese practice of Shinrin Yoko, Forest Bathing involves slowly walking, for at least two-hours, on specifically curated ‘natural’ paths. This must be done quietly, without a phone, whilst focusing and breathing deeply. These procedures are defended on scientific grounds; popular theorists emphasise the association of forest bathing with lowered blood pressure, blood-sugar, stress, depression, and improvements in memory, pain thresholds, energy, immunity, cardiovascular and metabolic health (Lee 2018). The use of science to promote nature evokes Wilson’s widely influential ‘Biophilia hypothesis’, which contends that the co-constitutional evolution of humans and nature means that they depend upon one another and cannot be separated practically or conceptually (1993). In both arguments, science demonstrates nature’s ‘sacred status’, pre-exiting both society and commodity, a ‘higher order’ truth.
Nonetheless ‘The Forest Bathing institute’ (TFBI), based in the UK, provides forest bathing experiences for customers paying £30-50. Moreover, walks are often run in forests which are owned by public bodies such as RSBP and would otherwise be freely accessible. Remarkably, TBFI even frames this profit making as ‘ethical’. It imagines itself the provisioner of nature’s ‘gifts’ and represents itself (in promotion, branding, and aesthetic) as a charity.
Of course, it has long been possible to own and sell nature in England. The very English word ‘forest’ derives from the Latin foris, meaning ‘outside’, linked to when William the Conqueror barred commoners from their land, to create fenced woodland ‘outside of’ pre-existing Anglo Saxon laws of land rights. These forest were used for deer hunting for venison, a trading commodity which preceded the standardised coins (Hayes 2020: 33). Thus forests have been commoditized since the medieval era. The privatisation of the countryside has only increased throughout time , and has also contributed larger ideology that people are separate from a state of nature (Thomas 1983). Forests as a marketable resource will therefore make intuitive sense to many in England.
What is new about the Forest Bathing institute, is that it feels the need to disguise this uncomfortable commodification. This is shown by the name of the experience ‘Forest bathing +’. Of course, this in part illustrates the additional luxury of the TBFI experience; that extra ‘something’ which ought to be paid for. But crucially, the plus sign leaves usefully intact Forest Bathing itself, which can remain the epiphenomena of a larger, a-social nature.
The most interesting way TFBI de-alienates commodified forest-bathing is by emphasising it’s contributions to research, rather than profit-making. It aims ultimately to recreate ‘original physiological research carried out in Japan’ so that forest bathing might be incorporated into social prescribing in the UK (2022). Indeed, this is how TFBI hopes to achieve it’s larger goal; ‘to reduce inequalities in access to nature and to support the wellbeing of the general public, with a particular focus on supporting people from marginalised communities’. Evidently, this is not a purely self-interested statement, but instead derives from a (proclaimed) genuine and selfless care for humanity. This resembles ideology of the ‘perfect gift’ , directly opposed to commodity, which is a pure expression of the heart, which does not bind the recipient and provider, which imposes no obligation upon the receiver (Carrier 1990: 21). Interestingly, forest bathing also perfectly epitomises the second aspect of the ’perfect gift’, an immateriality which expresses higher notions of love transcending physicality (Carrier 1990:21). Thus, through an emphasis on research, nature is made abstract, de-materialised, and can be received as a gift where it was sold as a commodity.
Contributed by RhiannaLewis-Tottle on 25/01/2023
