A Google user
He seems to have a pretty negative view of yoga, and puts fear and doubt into his reader's minds regarding a practice where fear is a bad for letter word.. My belief is that yoga doesn't hurt people, ego hurts people. The author sets out on a mission to boost his ego, but in turn instills a lot of fear in doubt into something beautiful that he never quite seems to really understand. I'm holding out for Kathryn Budig's Big Book of Yoga.
A Google user
William Broad is fortunate to have had the New York Times as a platform to hype his new book, The Science of Yoga (hereafter SY). It is fair to ask why his articles on yoga, however, have not been labeled as the advertisements for SY that they are. Neither his articles nor SY deserve the aura of authority and objectivity that the readership of the New York Times tends to associate with that paper. But Broad knows what sells and he plays to fear (the risk of injury from yoga) and desire (the association of sex with yoga) at the expense of the “impartial evaluation” (p9) he purports to offer. Far from being impartial in his evaluation, Broad seems to relish being arrogant and insulting at the same time. He doubts the yoga community knows what scientists have learned about yoga, pompously claiming to be the first to offer the impartial evaluation of what they have learned(p9). Ironically it has been the sharp and widespread criticism of his article in the New York Times on his assertions regarding the risk of injury from yoga that has proven the yoga community indeed knows quite a lot of science.
SY is a relatively short book, with only a little over 200 pages on the substance of what Broad has to say. Yet, there is lots of unnecessary filler: there are 20 illustrations of standard yoga poses. As competent as these line drawings are though, what is the purpose when there are plenty of drawings and photographs of practically any yoga pose available on the internet? Some of the details are utterly and inexplicably irrelevant: I cannot understand why Broad refers to the dedication of the Greek Parthenon in his timeline of yoga. He gets tripped up going off on such tangents: he parenthetically tells us that the yoga practitioner musician Sting plays not only the guitar but the lute--yet Sting’s principal instrument was and is the bass--something Broad should surely know. A list price of $26.00 for such stuff constitutes quite a mark-up over what you typically pay per page for the New York Times--or what might be a more apt comparison, the New York Post.
SY does not deserve an extended review, so I will focus on one of Broad’s most absurd claims, which he made the topic of yet another article in the New York Times. He says that yoga began as a sex cult (p164). This is a bizarre assertion. It is not clear when yoga “began” and certainly not clear exactly what sorts of practices it was associated with when it did begin. Yet, the earliest reliable evidence--whether it is the early Greek description of what they termed “naked wise men” of India (gymnosophists), the various types of yoga described in the Bhagavad Gita or the ascetic elements of yogic practice prescribed by Patanjali-- suggests something quite the opposite from a sex cult. Indeed, on the topic of sex and yoga Broad seems both naive and perverse. He begins the chapter, Divine Sex, with the claim that he personally did not appreciate the connection of sexual energy and yoga during the course of over 30 years of practice, until he began writing SY. I find that difficult if not impossible to believe. As incredible as that is, though, what is even more so is the way in which Broad expects the reader to indulge his school boy obsession with anecdotes of female arousal related directly or indirectly to the practice of yoga. What a more mature author would have addressed in a serious and sensible way Broad intentionally sensationalizes. It is easy to see why: sex sells. That principle goes back millennia and relates to an old profession, but it is not yoga.