Five Teeth from Perfect
Finding the fault with America’s quest for perfection

I believe that braces hurt.

For the first few days, this is quite literally true—eating is almost impossible with white-hot pain coursing through your newly shackled gums like fire. Even after one gets used to this, certain foods are permanently off-limits for the two-year period, ranging from eating corn (something I sorely miss) to chewing on ice (something that I admittedly don’t miss so much). I’m told, though, that everyone gets used to this in time. This isn’t what hurts about braces.

It isn’t the narcissistic demon in me that’s so hurt by these braces, either, although generally wearing anything sparkler than my blue-and-silver disco jacket is a no-no for me. It’s beyond a matter of personal beauty; people have—and I quote the orthodontist’s manual here—“learned to accept braces into their lives, and soon, they even have fun with them!” With false enthusiasm, it goes on to attempt to make the insecure newcomer to braces feel better, with sentences like “over 90% of people say they look much better after braces, and some people even describe themselves as sexy!”

That’s where the true pain of braces comes in—the way the companies that sell them plant self-doubt in you, and swoop down and say they can fix your gaping faults with their new braces: I was perfectly sexy the way I was, thank you very much. I don’t need the help of giant teeth-shifting bands to look staggeringly handsome. Humans weren’t made to be perfect, and the fact that someone is reaching inside my mouth and telling me that my mini-vampire tooth needs to go is unnatural. How do these things sell so well, I wondered? How is that the hollow promise of a “perfect” smile in two years is so popular? And, upon some reflection, I realize: braces sell because of America’s own insecurity in inself, and its constant search to find true beauty. Ranging from braces to skin products to all kinds of different things, the way companies operate is by inducing self-doubt in people, and giving them the way to perfect those problems that they have with themselves…provided, of course, they pay.

It isn’t just America, either. The Japanese and Chinese,[1] for example, undergo a leg-breaking process and spend years in wheelchairs just so they can grow taller, which to them is the achievement of beauty. Certain African tribes deliberately scar their skin into scales so they can look more powerful, leaving brutal, turtle-like patterns forever branded onto their backs. Southeast Asians strap metal bands to their necks in an attempt to stretch the skin to twice its normal size. The desire to be better, to be prettier, to have some sort of advantage, is wired into cultures. As culture has advanced, the natural instinct to take the lead in order to survive has evolved into a desire to become at the top of the social pyramid of life. But mainly, it all comes down to the need to be perfect, to be better. The Japanese and Chinese undergo surgery because they’re insecure about their height, and companies capitalize on this, seizing the opportunity to make money. And maybe this is okay for the people who want to be taller…but the thing is, not all of them naturally do. The companies who rake in profit from this take it to the next level, making people feel like there’s something naturally wrong with them that need to be corrected. Thus, the people buy. It’s a vicious circle, and there’s no easy way out.

Nor is it that the world’s lust for perfection is a recent thing. In a way, the desire to be the ideal human is a primitive thing. This perfectionism has manifested itself in many different strains of life, ranging far back into the past. In many religions, life is just about trying to get to heaven, or trying to achieve Nirvana, which is essentially a quest to be perfect. Gladiator fights in Rome imposed upon its culture that there was a prime fighter, a prime physical form to be in. Beauty is just what people project on others as some level of perfection; to Romans, the more plump women were viewed as beautiful, purely because it implied they had an abundance of food, which meant they were rich, which meant they were powerful. And because power was the ultimate form of perfection in Rome, those people were beautiful. Perfection is, at this point, an inherent thing, almost a human need, and I think it’s normal for it to turn up in some sense across cultures. The problem is when our culture capitalizes on this natural, human-centered desire for perfection purely to make money.

And, not to sound too clichéd here, but this quest for perfection has deeply rooted itself into America. We come full circle to a place where operations like breast implants have shot up 50 percent since 2000{cke_protected_1}[2]{cke_protected_2}, which–even though as a member of the male race I’m not exactly concerned about surgery on my chest area–has startling implications about the growing self-doubt of our current population. Almost 50 percent of the people who get them are under 18. Just like ancient Rome’s gladiator fought in bloody one-on-one battles for power, then, our modern citizens compete in a different sort of bloodsport—the pursuit of surgically-enhanced beauty. Instead of weak spots in armor, it is deep-seated personal insecurity that makes us vulnerable in the modern world, and it is the same desire to beat out the competition. As a society, have we really progressed? Culture always has been, and probably always will be, about getting power, whether it’s through brute force or through the malicious art of out-shining your neighbor. But as we battle our way to perfection, we are just setting ourselves up for more insecurity. That is why braces hurt so much—it’s the pain of a culture after perfection that allows us to be manipulated by others.

In the end, if you yourself want straighter teeth, by all means go for it and get braces. It’s not like I’m trying to shame everyone who uses some kind of skin treatment, or wants shinier, silkier hair. But don’t let the corruption of the modern day world make you want them. There’s a big difference, and, although my teeth will probably look better by the end of this, I believe that my teeth were staggeringly sexy the way they were. I, for one, will fight manipulation, and perhaps that will make my braces hurt a little less each day.

I, for one, will be sexy no matter where my teeth are.

Harry Seabrook
Age 13, Grade 7,
MS 255 Salk School of Science
Gold Key Silver Medal