The Victorian health scare that tried to stop NZ women riding bikes

2026-02-28 - 17:07

Comment: In 1897, New Zealand newspapers were awash with warnings about a terrifying new health affliction affecting women. The cause? Riding a bicycle. ‘Bicycle face’ was supposedly caused by the anxiety of trying to balance on two wheels, combined with the grimacing expression riders make while straining to pedal. This was thought to cause a state of nervous exhaustion and permanent facial disfigurement in susceptible riders – giving them a wrinkled, masculine appearance. Women were thought to be especially vulnerable due to their ‘delicate’ nature. What made these warnings persuasive was not evidence, but authority: they were framed as medical advice, reported on uncritically, and repeated often enough to feel credible. This case shows how media saturation can be a substitute for scientific validation. It sounds absurd today, but between 1895 and World War I, New Zealand newspapers were filled with articles about ‘bicycle face’ and related conditions like ‘bicycle heart,’ ‘bicycle stoop,’ and ‘bicycle throat’. The real story behind the scare ‘Bicycle face’ was first identified by British doctor Arthur Shadwell who coined the term. The condition was popularised by a small number of rogue physicians in the United States and Great Britain. British doctor Arabella Kenealy even warned that vigorous cycling could make women infertile. One of the most extraordinary claims was concern over the corruption of female morals from fears that straddling the seat in combination with the motion required to propel the bicycle forward would lead to female sexual arousal. The fears surrounding ‘bicycle face’ reflected a broader moral panic over women’s rights and freedoms. But ‘bicycle face’ wasn’t about medicine, it was about control. During the 1880s and ‘90s, bicycles gave New Zealand women unprecedented freedom to escape the confines of home without a male chaperone. This terrified many Victorian men. Medical concerns about women’s ‘fragile constitutions’ masked deeper anxieties about female independence. The bicycle became a target for those threatened by social change. While most doctors were sceptical, the damage was done by a few influential voices writing in newspapers and magazines of the era. They were the Victorian equivalent of modern-day social media influencers. The fear of new technologies Throughout history, new technologies have triggered similar health scares. It was once thought that listening to certain musical instruments could induce diseases, especially in ‘delicate’ females. In the early years of the telephone, many female switchboard operators reported feeling unwell from the crackling sounds on the line. The condition was even given a name: ‘telephone tinnitus.’ Today, we see the same pattern with ‘Wifi sickness,’ ‘5G sensitivity,’ and ‘Wind Turbine Syndrome’ – conditions that lack scientific evidence but have gained traction through social media. The most likely cause for these maladies is mass suggestion and the ‘nocebo effect’ where negative expectations can trigger an array of symptoms. It is the evil twin of the more famous ‘placebo effect’. It is important to acknowledge that the symptoms are real, even though the cause is not. The history of ‘bicycle face’ provides an important lesson: when researchers supposedly identify new medical conditions – demand evidence by showing us the peer-reviewed research and biological mechanisms involved. Also examine the cultural context. ‘Bicycle face’ was about controlling female independence, not health. And remember that while bicycle face was nonsense, some technology fears like x-ray radiation have proved to be justified. The lesson is to separate evidence-based risks from cultural anxieties dressed up as medical conditions. The New Zealand connection Kiwi newspapers dutifully reported British and American medical warnings throughout the 1890s and early 1900s. The diagnosis and treatment of ‘bicycle face’ is a cautionary tale. It shows how easily cultural anxieties can masquerade as medical conditions when a few influential voices give them credence. It shows how the Victorian press was able to amplify unfounded fears until they felt real. But Kiwi women of the period were also fortunate: they did not have to contend with mobile phones, Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.