What a 19th Century Expedition to Antarctica Can Teach Us About Mentally Recovering from Covid-19
Humans have mental needs: a sense of security, purpose, company, relatedness, autonomy, exercise, sunlight.
Last month, I received an advance copy of Julian Sancton’s Madhouse at the End of the Earth. Though ostensibly a history, Madhouse’s recounting of an incident that occurred more than one-hundred years ago yields modern lessons.
Although the “madhouse” that the title refers to — the “Belgica,” a ship stranded in Antarctica from 1897–1899 —was at “the end of the Earth,” today, the “madhouse” is the Earth.
You should buy Sancton’s book because it’s entertaining, well-researched history. It’s good. Reviews describing its historical accuracy and thrilling pace abound (like this one in The Wall Street Journal). So rather than rehashing old ground, I thought I’d dive into why Madhouse is especially timely as our world transitions from abnormality back into (what it rather abnormally calls) normality.
Put simply, languishing in Antarctica for two years and languishing in your apartment for two years aren’t very different. Although I doubt many of us are mentally suffering quite so severely as the Belgica’s crew, the parallels between the plague-ridden Earth of 2020–2021 and the stranded expedition of 1897–1899 — loneliness, ennui, resource scarcity, uncertainty, the ever-hovering threat of death — are too obvious to pretend that the regimen that Dr. Frederick Cook … cooked up for the Belgica’s suffering crew has no special relevance today.
Indeed, his regimen — his prescription for mental health — highlights aspects of the human condition that aren’t optional, nor unique in time and place, but utterly essential.
Lately, some good friends seem to be … degrading. (This trend will hopefully end as Covid-19 ends.) It’s no wonder that they’re degrading; they’re on a “madhouse.” Staying sane in an insane world is no small feat. It’s been quite a year.
A hundred years ago on another “madhouse,” the Belgica, Dr. Cook noticed several factors that, when combined, produced what he called “polar madness,” and what we would today call clinical depression (or perhaps PTSD): fear, uncertainty, monotony, confinement, extreme isolation, a lack of control over one’s destiny, learned helplessness.
Human beings can tolerate stress that is (1) short -term and (2) controllable. But long-term stress that is out of our control — things like pandemics and failed Antarctic expeditions— can paralyze us. The brain learns that it is helpless, and the result is lethargy, low motivation, and all the other hallmarks of depression — an illness that, at core, involves giving up and retreating from reality instead of confronting and trying to change reality. That’s not surprising: When you can’t control your environment, why try?
After diagnosing the crew, Dr. Cook decided to do something about it. He prescribed a daily regimen based on a common-sense acknowledgment that human beings, as animals, have animal needs. Dr. Cook reminds us that even though it is tempting to ignore our embodied state — to forget the innate limits of our humanity— we ignore our bodies at our peril.
Note the bolded words, which I’ve quoted from a passage in Madhouse describing the regimen that Dr. Cook prescribed the sailors:
The realization that their lives now depended entirely on the whims of the Antarctic ice pack sapped the men’s already dismal morale and immediately impacted their physical and mental health. Aside from fresh meat, bright light, and exercise, hope was the crucial fourth prong of Cook’s prescribed health regimen, and it, too, was now in critically short supply.
As our solitude ends, I’ve found — or perhaps re-found — that to be a healthy human is to respect your humanity and the needs of that humanity. I’ve learned that aside from the four essentials above, there is a fifth essential: Love. And finally, I’ve remembered, as I’ve spoken with the cold and the hungry and the despairing and the isolated — from Manhattan to my current home, Memphis — that we are, all of us, bound inextricably by a common thread, a common fate: Our humanity. This humanity constricts us, but it also empowers us — so long as we respect it.
So Sancton’s book is about humanity. It’s about maintaining that humanity in inhuman conditions — the coldness of Antarctica, sure, but also the cold sterility of our atomized and bizarre post-coronavirus, post-modern, and hyper-capitalist world.
To conclude, if you’re struggling in your own “madhouse,” know two things:
(1) Plenty of people are in the same boat (albeit not the Belgica); and
(2) The human essentials — good nutrition, exercise, hope, bright light, and love — are returning. Soon. Yet they will not do so on their own. As society reclaims its physical health, we must take responsibility to reclaim our mental health, which necessitates remembering that we humans are animals — and that, like animals, we have fundamental needs.
Late 19th century Antarctica was a tough place to survive; so, too, is early 21st century Earth. Do yourself a favor and cross the gap of space and time that separates you from Dr. Cook and his patients. Check out Madhouse. Perhaps doing so will make your transition out of the “madhouse” easier than that of the Belgica’s traumatized men — some of whom, unfortunately, made it out physically but not mentally.
Above all, be kind to yourselves.
Michael Elias Shammas is a lawyer, writer, and scholar. He has written for news publications ranging from the Huffington Post to the student-run Harvard Law Record. After graduating from Harvard Law School, he conducted research as a fellow at NYU Law School, and he will be teaching Tulane Law School beginning fall 2021. Feel free to follow him on Twitter, or download some of his scholarship for free on SSRN.
Note: I’m not a psychologist or a psychiatrist. If you’re suffering from clinical depression, doing anything Dr. Cook recommends — even getting out of bed — can feel impossible. So the recommendations in this piece aren’t medical advice. I encourage anyone who is truly struggling to seek help. Because you’re worth it.
Thanks for reading Writers Guild — A Penname publication
Share your stories on ManyStories.com to reach more readers. Auto-tweet your stories on repeat with Signal to increase engagement.
