Reiss - Wild nights - how taming sleep created our restless world

Wild nightsWild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futilethe winds

To a Heart in port

Done with the Compass

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden

Ahthe Sea!

Might I but moortonight

In thee!

Emily Dickinson

In wildness is the preservation of the world.

Henry David Thoreau

Sleep is both a universal need and a freely available resource for all societies and even species. So why is it the source of frustration for so many people today? Why do we spend so much time trying to manage it and medicate it, and training ourselvesand our childrenhow to do it correctly? And why do so many of us feel that, despite all our efforts to tame our sleep, its fundamentally beyond our control?

The answers have more to do with the world weve built for ourselves over timeand the strangely restrictive place within it that weve reserved for sleepthan with any deficiency in our bodies. Our culture prides itself on variety and choice: what we buy, how we vote, what we eat, what we believe, whom we love, and how we lead our lives are all supposed to be matters of individual inclinationat least for those who can afford to choose. And yet of all the major daily human activities in much of North America and Europe, and increasingly elsewhere in the world, the topic of sleep inspires a numbing conformity to a one-size-fits-all standard-issue package. Sleeping in one straight shot through the nightconsolidated sleephas become a near-universal expectation, even for those whose bodies and minds seem naturally inclined to shut down and switch back on differently. Would-be sleepers are encouraged to develop rigid bedtime routines, regardless of season or setting. Sleep is supposed to occur in a private and almost neurotically sealed space, with, at most, two consenting adults sharing a bed. Children are to be trained from a very early age to reproduce these features of normal sleep, and we insist that they do so in isolation from adults. Should any of us fail to achieve the expected results, we call our sleep disordered and resort to medication or reprogramming, or we just resign ourselves to feeling miserable.

What is strangest about these expectations and social rules is that for all their power today, at most times and in most places in human history, practically no one followed any of them. And we now cling to them neurotically even as our world throws up new challenges to regular sleep: flexible work times, distracting and hyperstimulating electronic devices, ever more powerful caffeinated beverages, high-speed travel across time zones, and an unsleeping world of commerce, information, and entertainment that beckons us across the digital highway at every moment. The poor fit between the rules for normal sleep and the lives so many of us lead induces a self-perpetuating pattern of worry and micromanagement. Battering our sleep with rules, training manuals, rituals, and commercial sleep products like anti-snoring pillows and memory foam mattresses only leads us to be more intolerant of small changes to routine and environment, creating a society of fussy, stressed-out sleepers. And for those who, for reasons of biology or circumstance, cant sleep by the rules, the consequences are worse.

That is because, like all rules, the ones that govern sleep create conflicts: between the body and the mind, between bodies and the sleeping environment, and among social groups who are differently affected by the rules. For those who cant adapt to the rules, those who refuse, or those who are denied the time and space to sleep normally, sleep becomes an ordeal. These conflicts, in a sense, are as much the source of our current sleep troubles as purely medical issues are. Or rather, by some strange alchemy, the social and psychological problems created by our attempts to define and enforce what is normal are often interpreted as medical problems.