How did 19th-century etiquette turn table manners into a weapon of social control?

Can the “Great Stink” teach us why modern sanitation defines civilization?

Explore how the humble gut has shaped human history, from the “Great Stink” of London to the rise of mindful eating. Elsa Richardson’s Rumbles reveals the surprising link between digestion, mental health, and social order. Ready to listen to what your body has been telling you for centuries? Read on to discover why your gut feelings might be the most historically significant signals you ever receive.

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Have you ever wondered how your gut has shaped history? Historian and author Elsa Richardson takes you on a fascinating journey of the digestive system’s surprising influence on medicine, cultures and politics. She explores how people’s understanding of the gut has led to medical advancements, changed cultural norms, and even sparked political movements. Richardson reveals the profound connections between bodily processes and the evolution of social order, health, and power. In doing so, she uncovers the gut’s central role in shaping the way people live, think, and govern.

Take-Aways

• People have understood the gut’s influence on mental health for centuries.
• Societal rules about diet and manners serve to maintain social order as well as mental and physical well-being.
• Scientists have studied digestion in the hopes of learning deeper truths about human existence.
• Modern technologies inhibit naturally paced, mindful eating.
• The push to be productive has eroded people’s ability to establish a healthy work-life balance.
• The ways societies choose to manage human waste shape people’s views of bodily functions.
• The gut can be a predictor of physical and mental health.
• Hunger and beliefs about digestion can drive social and political change and serve as a means of bodily control.

Summary

People have understood the gut’s influence on mental health for centuries.

For much of history, people regarded the human gut with superstition or suspicion. The Ancient Greeks, for example, used human entrails to foresee a battle’s outcome. In the Middle Ages, many people viewed the gut as a potential source of demonic possession, causing mental and spiritual chaos. During the 18th and 19th centuries, people commonly used the term “blue devils” to describe depression and mental anguish — sometimes attributed to digestive issues. Medical figures such as surgeon James Johnson further popularized this idea in his 1827 Essay on Indigestion. He connected his patients’ mental despondency to toxins building up in their bowels.

“How we feel is linked to what we eat.”

However, some individuals had a more positive take on the link between the gut and the mind. Physician George Cheyne experienced a severe decline in health due to overindulgence in food and drink. To treat his bodily aches, Cheyne adopted a vegetable-based diet, which not only improved his physical health but also lifted his spirits, leading him to link diet with mental well-being. In his influential work The English Malady (1733), Cheyne argued that Britain’s prosperity and indulgent lifestyle led to physical and emotional decline. His ideas highlight the historical roots of the belief that what people eat can directly influence their emotions and mental states.

Societal rules about diet and manners serve to maintain social order as well as mental and physical well-being.

Throughout history, people have sought various ways to “tame” the gut and control its influence on the body and mind. One of the primary methods has been through diet. Guidelines on what and how to eat reveal cultural values. For example, religious texts have often prescribed plain meals to promote spiritual purity. The Victorian moralist Isabella Beeton saw the act of dining as a symbol of civilization, contrasting it with the more primitive act of eating. She emphasized table manners as a means of asserting control over the body’s basic instincts. The aim of regulating the gut was mainly to maintain order, both socially and emotionally.

“Nothing shews the difference between a young gentleman and a vulgar boy so much as the behavior in eating.” (18th-century etiquette expert Charles Vyse)

In his book The Civilizing Process, German sociologist Norbert Elias argued that the introduction of table etiquette in the late Middle Ages — following a trend toward more self-restraint and moderation — helped people manage intense emotions, marking the progression from communal rustic feasts to more refined dining practices. By the late 17th century, etiquette books dictated the proper use of a variety of utensils and the appropriate way to converse at the table, labeling those who followed these rules as “civilized” and those who did not as “savage.” People believed that promoting controlled, deliberate eating and table manners helped prevent the stomach’s impulses from overtaking the rational mind.

Scientists have studied digestion in the hopes of learning deeper truths about human existence.

The digestive process involves the coordinated effort and cooperation of several organs, millions of enzymes, acids and muscles. For centuries, people have associated digestion with hard work. At the beginning of the 19th century, an unfortunate accident provided a “live demonstration of the human stomach in action.” In 1822, French-Canadian voyageur Alexis St. Martin suffered and survived a gunshot wound that left a permanent opening in his stomach. This unique condition allowed Dr. William Beaumont to directly observe the digestive process, turning St. Martin into a living experiment. Over the course of a decade, Beaumont conducted numerous tests on St. Martin, including one where he attached food to strings and lowered it into the stomach to study its breakdown.

“The stomach…was not only envisioned as a passive receptacle for half-chewed vitals, but also sometimes likened to the busy kitchen of a great house, laboring tirelessly to keep its occupants fed.”

While Beaumont’s experiments were ethically dubious, they led to a new understanding of gastric juice and its role in digestion. Moreover, they reflect the fact that many of the scientists who worked to “unmask” the stomach’s secrets have not merely wished to grasp its mechanics. They have seen it as the key to understanding broader mysteries related to human health and life. These inquiries framed the gut as a crucial organ whose workings could provide insight into both physical processes and metaphysical questions about human existence.

Modern technologies inhibit naturally paced, mindful eating.

People have long viewed the relationship between digestion and thinking as intertwined. For example, influential thinker and physician Avicenna, a leading figure in the Islamic Golden Age, is often credited as the founder of modern medicine. He argued that the digestive system, including organs like the intestines and bladder, was designed to store waste to allow humans to focus on higher intellectual pursuits instead of being interrupted by the body’s need to discharge its excreta.There is also a semantic connection between the brain and the gut, reflected in phrases like “food for thought,” “hungry for information,” or “hard to digest.”

In more recent years, Birmingham City University added another perspective on this gut-brain link, emphasizing how modern distractions like smartphones lead to overeating and obesity. A study exploring technology’s ties to obesity found that scrolling on phones and watching TV distracts people from the natural cues their bodies give that signal fullness — leading them to eat more food than they need. These findings shaped a renewed emphasis on mindfulness, advising people to pay closer attention to eating habits and avoid multitasking during meals to restore the brain-gut connection.

The push to be productive has eroded people’s ability to establish a healthy work-life balance.

For many people, the rise of pre-packaged meals like sandwiches symbolizes how the pressures of modern capitalism undermine workers’ quality of life. They contrast this uninspired repast, eaten quickly at a desk, with what they imagine lunch once was: a meal consumed with care in the presence of loved ones. In fact, lunch is a product of the modern capitalist era. The need for a meal break in the middle of the workday arose due to industrialization, which made long hours and the need to commute to your place of work the norm for most people.

“Sandwiches have ruined lunch.”

What is true is that, since its inception, people have seen lunch as a kind of barometer of how modern working life affects human health. Thought leaders of the Victorian era identified clerks and other office employees as particularly vulnerable to digestive disorders due to their midday meals’ hurried, unhealthy nature. The cultural stereotype of the dyspeptic clerk, plagued by indigestion and nervous disorders, became a potent marketing tool for those who advocated vegetarian diets and quack medicinal remedies in the late 19th century. In the early 20th century, British unions started to demand the introduction of workplace canteens to provide healthier, more structured meal breaks. Business owners initially resisted, but when the onset of World War I made factory worker fatigue a problem of national importance, most built these canteens — but for reasons of boosting productivity, not to promote worker well-being.

The ways societies choose to manage human waste shape people’s views of bodily functions.

The history of sanitation and human excrement management reveals how societies have struggled to control the consequences of digestion. For example, in the mid-19th century, London disposed of its human, animal and industrial waste by dumping it into the River Thames. In 1858, the city’s waste problem got out of control, overwhelming the river and causing a stench so unbearable that it disrupted the British Parliament. “ The Great Stink,” as people called it, prompted swift action and finally led to the installation of the first public toilets and the long-overdue construction of a vast sewer network planned by Joseph Bazalgette.

“Filth, as the enemy of human progress, must be con- quered.”

Sanitation advancements not only shaped physical infrastructure but also transformed how people understood the gut and its functions. After The Great Stink, the proper disposal of waste became linked to the idea of civilization, with Victorian society viewing modern sanitation as proof of its progress in relation to the perceived filthiness of the past. Emphasis on hygiene and cleanliness also bolstered social hierarchies, as people associated uncleanliness with the lower classes and “uncivilized” societies. When proper excrement management became a symbol of order and modernity, it affected how people viewed their bodies and their place in society.

The gut can be a predictor of physical and mental health.

Throughout history, scientists have explored the gut’s capacity to act as a predictor of future health. In old practices such as scatomancy, fecal readers viewed the gut as a soothsayer capable of revealing insights into future health conditions. In the modern era, studies have shown that the gut microbiome can forecast potential health outcomes, such as the likelihood of developing diabetes, and even indicate how long someone might live. One such study by Harvard Medical School found that gut bacteria might better predict future health risks than human genomes.

In the early 1900s, health reformers like William Arbuthnot Lane and John Harvey Kellogg argued that modern city life damaged people’s digestion, causing constipation. Lane argued that the colon hadn’t evolved quickly enough to keep pace with contemporary life, sometimes even recommending surgery to remove parts of it. Both Lane and Kellogg championed yogurt-heavy diets and regular bowel movements as essential to well-being. Today, concerns about gut health remain, with concepts like “leaky gut syndrome” and the popularity of probiotics and fermented foods reflecting both old fears and new discoveries about how digestion impacts overall health.

“Part of what the present, past and future of the gut has revealed is how interwoven our bodies are with the world around us.”

A better understanding of the human microbiome has led to treatments like fecal microbiota transplants. Doctors at the Taymount Clinic use this procedure to transfer gut bacteria from a healthy donor to a patient. While this approach has proven effective for preventing gastric infections, its potential applications include treatment for conditions like Crohn’s disease, multiple sclerosis, and even depression. This growing interest in gut health underscores how society’s understanding of the microbiome — the ecosystem of bacteria, viruses, and fungi in the human gut — has evolved, linking digestive health not only to physical wellness but to mental health as well.

Hunger and beliefs about digestion can drive social and political change and serve as a means of bodily control.

In 18th-century France, inventor Jacques de Vaucanson debuted a mechanical marvel called the Digesting Duck. People hailed this metal creature, which appeared to eat and defecate like a real duck, as proof of France’s modernity and commitment to scientific progress. But its popularity also underscored how people saw food and digestion as intimately connected with culture.

“The connection between bellies and the nation state has sometimes proved more than metaphorical.”

History shows how demands of the stomach can drive national upheaval. In post-revolutionary France, for example, food shortages and hunger were catalysts for political unrest. Food and digestion can also serve as a means of social control. The concept of dieting demonstrates how societies use food and body size to govern people’s bodies and reinforce societal norms. In the 19th century, figures like William Banting popularized dieting by framing the idea of weight control as a moral obligation tied to societal values of hard work and self-discipline. Medical professionals contributed to this narrative by pathologizing fatness, linking it to laziness and a lack of self-control, and thus encouraging people to see larger bodies as both a social and health problem.

Dieting has also played a role in gender politics, often reinforcing stereotypes about women’s frailty and men’s strength. For instance, an 1899 Bile Beans advertisement marketed laxatives to women by claiming their digestive systems were weaker and more prone to disorder — emphasizing traditional notions of female vulnerability. Yet, as in revolutionary France, where hunger was a catalyst for social reform, many suffragettes in the early 20th century reversed harmful gender notions by using their guts as political tools. By going on hunger strikes to defy societal expectations and push for women’s rights, suffragettes reframed digestion as a means of resistance .

About the Author

Author Elsa Richardson is a lecturer of history at the University of Strathclyde, Scotland.