Dr. Ruth and Richard Simmons Helped Us Escape the Moral Majority

During the 1980s, a decade defined by Ronald Reagan and the Moral Majority, two peculiar pop icons stood up to conservatism: a German-born Holocaust survivor who became a sex therapist, and an overweight, unhappy kid from Louisiana who turned his personal story into a VHS exercise tape of feelgood evangelism for the masses.

Last week, the world lost Dr. Ruth Westheimer and Richard Simmons just one day apart. It’s a fitting end for two individuals who tapped into the psyche of people who felt excluded for their age, size and sexuality. Their deaths feel especially painful at a time when abortion bans and anti- LGBTQ and DEI laws are erasing progress for the bodily autonomy and feelings of belonging they championed.

While we can’t deny that their Whiteness and commerciality aided in their mainstream success — as hosts of talk shows, authors of best-selling books and guests on popular platforms — the radical and personal way they upended norms was an invitation to any and everyone who had ever felt othered.

And there was no shortage of policies that would elicit that sentiment in the ’80s: The New Right spearheaded a conservative ascendancy that opposed abortion, homosexuality, the Equal Rights Amendment and affirmative action. 

Amid it, there were Dr. Ruth and Simmons thumbing their noses at cultural puritanism with positivity, humor and eccentricity. Even more significant to audiences were their less-than-perfect upbringings. With it, their message was simple: We are little people, just like you, warts and all, and look how far we have come.

And it worked.

Simmons created a fitness empire that lasted decades, had a nationally syndicated show, The Richard Simmons Show, wrote books, dominated VHS fitness and infomercials and coined phrases such as “everyone has a story that makes me stronger” and “farewell to fat.” And his workout videos didn’t only have svelte, toned, blond models — the accepted beauty standard back then. Bodies of different shapes, sizes and races were represented and celebrated.

But his greatest gift was that he lived what he ministered. Although Simmons never discussed his sexuality, his unapologetic flamboyance broke barriers. If he, an effeminate loud-mouthed middle-aged man dressed in tight Dolfin shorts and tank tops covered in Swarovski crystals, could love himself with so much joy at a time when men were expected to present themselves as ultra-masculine, then so could we.

In her own way, Dr. Ruth preached the same. “Every person deserves respect” was a phrase she repeated often. She used to say that her least favorite word was “normal” because we don’t know what normal is.

Her life was certainly anything but. When she began her popular late-night radio show, Sexually Speaking, in 1980, she was over 50 years old. On the air and in books, she talked about intimacy like no one else had before. A woman uttering the word sex? Saying it past her supposed “prime?” And giving advice about how to enjoy it? It was pearl-clutching behavior, to say the least.

That bravery extended to her fight for women’s reproductive rights and to the way she discussed and treated homosexuality as though it was, you know, a normal part of many people’s lives. And she did it as the HIV/AIDS epidemic ostracized the gay community.

Dr. Ruth recognized the reason why people were so drawn to her. “I think it has something to do with me not being tall and blond and gorgeous,” she told Diane Sawyer in an interview. “And because I’m an older woman.”

For sure. But I’d go a step further. Her background, like Simmons’, inspired a feeling of being able to change one’s circumstances. If a woman like the diminutive 4-ft-7-inch Dr. Ruth, a “Holocaust orphan,” as she called herself, could grow up, immigrate to a new place and build a successful career, then what couldn’t the average person do?

She and Simmons outwardly lived a life that embodied the American dream during a time when it seemed foolish for people like them to even think they could. One could go as far as calling them the OG of influencers.

I tend to think so. They were influencing people way before the word or concept was a twinkle in millennials’ and Gen Z’s eyes. But there is a difference now.

While we have access to the lives of public figures more than ever because of social media, Dr. Ruth’s and Simmons’ brand of human connection is missing. The cacophony of voices today doesn’t seem to ring as clear and as honest — or seem to care as much — as they did.

So, as many grieve their deaths, there is also mourning for the end of an era they created when the public could once again use it the most.

More From Bloomberg Opinion:

This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

Susanne Ramírez de Arellano is a freelance writer. She is a grantee of the International Woman’s Media Foundation and the former news director of Channel 11-Univision in Puerto Rico.

/opinion

This article was generated from an automated news agency feed without modifications to text.