The Phi of the Beholder

On Beauty: Part 1

Good old Marilyn Monroe wearing her favorite mask of golden rectangles.

I am a teacher of middle school girls.  As such, I think a lot about beauty.  My students are obsessed with looks.  They are just coming into an acute, inflated awareness of how social structure works, and they are well aware that, being girls, beauty is their most valuable social currency.

My students are high-class kids.  They grow up in families with plenty of money, are fed great nutrition from the moment of conception, and are enrolled in a slew of healthy activities from the moment of birth.  As such, they are an objectively beautiful bunch with glowing skin, sleek, active figures, and expensive, subtle makeup.

Once, we were playing "celebrity" in advisory.  One girl picked "Ruth Bader Ginsberg" out of the pot, but didn't know how to describe her because she had never heard of the justice.  My advising partner, Mr. V (a young, handsome man with a lean, athletic build, a strong jaw, a full head of wavy black hair, and -- more importantly -- an attitude of unwavering kindness and optimism) had thrown her in on purpose.  He hoped to introduce a new hero to our students.  He took the moment to tell them about this legend of womanhood, and all my students could ask was, "Is she pretty?"

"That does not even matter."  Mr. V spluttered.  And I was so glad that they got to hear it from someone like him.

"She looks like an old woman."  I told them, "Because she is an old woman.  That's how she has come to do so much for us.  She has been working at it for a long time.  And she wears a long black robe, because she is a justice on our Supreme Court.  It is a position of great power and great honor, and that is her uniform for that job." 

I try not to talk too much about womanly beauty around my students.  I talk a lot about grit and bravery and curiosity -- the kinds of virtues I want to hold fast through the intensity of their 13th and 14th years.  I had turned The Nortorious RBG's looks on their head on purpose, to show that what she does is part of who she is, and how she looks relates to that more important identity, but does not define it.

I found myself on thin ice the other day.  I was teaching my math students about radicals, and some of their homework included the number phi ϕ , and The Golden Ratio -- which is ϕ:1. 
"What's so golden about it?"  They wondered.

"Oh," I responded, "It's just thought to be especially pleasing to the eye.  For instance, it is used a lot in architecture and in design.  But we didn't invent this number, like pi, we found it in nature.  Pi came from circles, and Phi came from spirals.  Some people even say that facial features with that proportion are especially attractive." 

THAT got their attention.  Attractive?  How so?  Can we all measure our faces and see who has the right ratio?  Can we look at a bunch of celebrities with the right ratios?  Is there anything you can do to change your facial ratios and make them more phi-like?

Oops.  I had awakened the beast.

"No, we can't do any of that in math class." I said testily. "We can do our homework.  And there's no way except surgery to change the structure of your face.  Anyway, I don't care what your ratios are.  You all look lovely from where I'm standing.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." 

"No, no!"  Said A, one of my most capable math students,  She is smart as a whip but prone to distraction, so I make her sit right up front.  She smiled and her dark eyes twinkled.  Her long black hair shone.  Her skin glowed.  "Beauty is in the PHI of the beholder!"  
Best of all, A's wit sparkles.

I gave her a big high-five and we all got back to our math.