Autoimmunity Is Self-Defence
What if your body isn't attacking itself, but defending you from a toxic world?
My culture taught me to be certain that I am a self and there, out there, outside of myself, there is an other.
Others are dangerous. They are not to be trusted. They are intruders, they are invaders, and oh no, turns out, they are in my body, they are my body itself. In the human body, so it was explained to me when I was a toddler in the oncology ward, my immune system’s job is to defend myself against those invaders. My body was a warzone. My body’s defenses have troops, barracks, garrisons, and fields of battle. My body, in fact, is the other, is the danger.
Just writing those few sentences is exhausting. What a tired story. Maybe you’ve heard it before.
Autoimmunity is not embodied civil war. It is a response to aggression; it is self-defence. What’s the use of fending off the outside world when it constantly permeates everything already? Defence is a boundary, a cell membrane, but it is not a barricade.
Self-defence implies, of course, that there is an assault happening, preparing to happen, having happened. The unfortunate reality is that violence is, in fact, directed at each of us. Your body, all our bodies, are fighting a toxic environment which is a byproduct of ecologically irresponsible resource extraction and industrial production. I’m not saying anything new.
Your body is constantly in combat against the 40-hour work week. It is in protest against the treatment of animals and industrial farming. Your body is raging at the loss of your connection to its ancestry. It is struggling to reckon with the collapse of cultural threads and narratives held in collective memory since the dawn of time.
All our bodies are caught in a skirmish that began many generations before we were born, long before the word autoimmune took on its medical meaning: “disease caused by antibodies or lymphocytes produced against substances naturally present in the body.”
The situation is untenable, the body says no, but who knows what it is refusing? The suffering is too much to bear, but where do you begin to untangle a mess that has roots dating millennia?
To better understand autoimmune diseases, which often involve chronic illness and pain, let’s explore different models for conceptualizing disability, drawing from the field of disability studies.
The medical model of disability, applied to chronic illness, operates from a normative standard. It views a difference in body or capacity—be it mental, autoimmune, or physical—as an inherent, isolated pathology. This lens diagnoses the individual as “abnormal” and frames the problem as residing in the person, with the solution being to either “fix” them with medicine or accept that they simply don’t fit the established mold. It places the burden of correction squarely on the individual, to make the person conform to society’s expectations. The purpose of medicine is thus to shape individuals into their expected shape, and the onus of cure is on medicine.
The moral model of disability, at times referred to as the religious model, interprets disability as a direct reflection of an individual’s or family’s character, actions, and overall morality. This perspective is deeply rooted in various cultural and religious traditions. For instance, in some Abrahamic beliefs, a disability may be seen as a divine punishment for sin, while in Hindu tradition, it might be understood as the karmic result of misdeeds from a past life.
This model can manifest in two distinct ways. On one hand, the moral model can cast disability in a positive light. It can be viewed as a symbol of honor, a test of faith, or a testament to an individual’s strength in overcoming immense life challenges. This globally prevalent model is frequently reinforced in media, with portrayals ranging from using physical disability to symbolize evil to celebrating individuals with disabilities who achieve extraordinary feats that surpass typical human limitations.
On the other hand, it often leads to significant stigma, shame, blame, and distrust of disabled individuals. This is especially prevalent when a disability is linked to conditions where personal actions are perceived as a contributing factor, such as addiction. In these cases, the condition is viewed as a moral failing rather than a systemic issue.
In sharp contrast, the social model of disability accepts the reality of diverse human capacities but shifts the focus entirely. It asserts that the body isn’t the issue; it’s the environment and the structures we build. Disability, under this model, is a product of systemic barriers and a failure of the social framework to accommodate the sheer variety of human experience. This is crucial because it allows us to see the experience of varying ability as a structural, social, and even ecological phenomenon—not just an individual affliction. This understanding immediately forces us to consider the ecological impacts that trigger systemic illness, providing a direct lens for examining autoimmunity.
What I’m proposing, the practice I’m upholding, is a social-ecological view of autoimmunity, which takes for granted that the large and nebulous category of diseases currently labelled “autoimmune” are caused by systemic factors, and must be treated by healing one’s relationships to systems as well as the systems themselves. This is akin to the social model of disability’s overall view that the variety of human abilities is a structural, systemic, and ecologically complex set of phenomena, and that human society has a responsibility towards its members to adapt to their capabilities.
The presence of auto-antibodies is not a sign that your body is wrong or dysregulated. It is a sign that the hegemonic death cult of predatory capitalism has seeped into your cells, and your body is struggling to save you. Autoimmunity is your body defending itself against the accumulation of toxins in the biosphere in your blood, bones, breath, and brain.
When the medically standard definition of autoimmunity mentions “substances naturally present in the body,” it does not recognize the entangled life of the biosphere. The naturally occurring cells of my body are always born and always dying in relationship with the rest of the earth. My biomatter has been exposed to poison, and my body is defending itself.
The prevailing metaphor that depicts autoimmunity as a fierce civil war, where the body has turned against itself, is a fundamentally flawed narrative that demands to be dismantled.
That perspective, while dramatically evocative, misrepresents the true nature of the “self” that is being defended. It is not the physical body, nor is it a constructed social identity that is at stake.
Instead, the “self” we are truly endeavoring to protect is the deeply grounded self, as illuminated and thoroughly explained within the framework of Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy.
In IFS, the Self is seen as an inherent core of wisdom, compassion, courage, and clarity that resides within every individual, untouched by trauma or life’s challenges. It is an unburdened, resourceful, and healing presence that is always accessible, though often overshadowed by our protective or wounded parts. The journey of self-protection, from this perspective, is not about shielding a fragile ego from external threats, but rather about cultivating a deeper connection to this innate, powerful Self, allowing its qualities to lead and guide our internal system towards healing and wholeness.
Alternatively, it can be understood as the essential Self, a core concept within the philosophical tradition of Vedanta. This is the subtle, whispered confirmation that resonates persistently, residing beneath and beyond the cacophony of everyday noise and external distractions, simply affirming its existence with the profound declaration, “I am.”
Alternatively, this concept can be understood as the essential Self, or Atman, a core tenet within the ancient philosophical tradition of Vedanta. This Self is not a fleeting thought or emotion, but the subtle, whispered confirmation that resonates beneath the cacophony of everyday noise. It is the profound and simple declaration, ‘I am,’ an affirmation not of ego, but of an inherent and unchanging nature. In Vedanta, this individual Self, the Atman, is ultimately understood to be identical with Brahman, the ultimate reality of the universe, suggesting a profound unity between the individual and the cosmos.
Autoimmunity is your body saying: “No, I refuse this situation. I refuse to play the game. I refuse to have my dharma stripped away so that I may run after individual gain. I refuse the imperative of the imperial dream. I refuse to be a productive citizen of the mono-culture, the trauma culture. I refuse the narrative that pins me as only a cog in a machine. I refuse a life prescribed within the entrails of a decomposing leviathan.”
I am, and you are. Our bodies matter, intrinsically, because they have been born. To be sick, to suffer, is human, and it is right that those who need care receive it.
Your body, all our bodies, are lodging loud, perhaps unclear, screaming complaints against the current state of affairs. This isn’t about who’s in power, or about the wars, or about the economy — though it includes all those things — this is about the systemic accumulation of social-ecological wrongdoing that has accumulated over the last few thousand years, and the resultant impact left in your earthly living flesh.