Winter Blues and Summer Sighs: A Cultural Take on SAD

“The heat was beginning to scorch my cheeks; beads of sweat were gathering in my eyebrows. It was just the same sort of heat as at [my mother's] funeral, and I had the same disagreeable sensations—especially in my forehead, where all the veins seemed to be bursting through the skin.”

This evocative description of emotional apathy in blazing heat comes from Albert Camus' novel The Stranger (L'Étranger). First published in 1942, the novel follows the protagonist, Meursault, who shows a loss of interest in daily activities, hopelessness, and loss of meaning about his purpose in life with themes of detachment, isolation, and alienation under a blazing and relentless Algerian sun.

But, what if Meursault was in Alaska instead of Algiers?

According to research on seasonal affective disorder (SAD), the first study of its kind showed that cultural context can significantly shape how individuals react to environmental factors like sunlight, which, in the case of SAD, profoundly affects mood and behavior.

There are two manifestations of SAD: winter-onset, and summer-onset, which I write about here. Although the research on summer SAD is scarce, and most winter SAD is popularly known, a study in the Journal of Affective Disorders by Joseph Kasof explored how cultural factors influence seasonal depression across different nations.

The study looked at two cultural factors: individualism versus collectivism (IC) and power distance (PD).

Individualism versus collectivism (IC) is a cultural dimension that assesses whether societies value personal autonomy and individual achievement (individualism) or prioritize group harmony and the collective well-being (collectivism).

Power distance (PD) measures how a society handles inequalities among people. In cultures with high power distance, where there are ever-present hierarchies, individuals may feel less control over their lives, whereas low power distance cultures, which favor personal empowerment, might offer more adaptive resources and flexibilities to cope with seasonal mood variations.

The study examined 41 articles with samples across 18 countries, which reported frequencies of both winter SAD and summer SAD encompassing a total of 38,408 participants. The median sample size was 252 participants, with a median age of 38.4 years, and was 53.3% female.

The research found that experiencing winter SAD, relative to summer SAD, correlated positively with individualism and negatively with power distance, meaning “countries in which winter SAD was more common than summer SAD were significantly more individualistic and less power-distant than countries in which summer SAD was more common than winter SAD.”

Why might this be? In individualistic cultures, like Western Europe, Canada, and the U.S., people might experience greater distress during winter when shortened days (and sun exposure) decrease social activity and give no daylight break between working hours. With a high value placed on productivity and individual success, working from what may truly be sun-up to sun-down every workday might change one’s perception of the days and, consequently, life, leading to feelings of exhaustion and hopelessness. Therefore, even though through seasons, one's working hours may not have changed, the perception of having more time in the day, thereby a life apart from work, may protect from summer SAD. In collectivistic cultures, strong community bonds might mitigate some of these changes, possibly explaining the lower prevalence of winter SAD.

In countries characterized by low individualism and high power distance, summer SAD may be more common because of the pressure of maintaining social norms and fulfilling both work and familial obligations during longer days.

This study presents an interesting question of how our cultural values may affect how we experience and physiologically respond to seasonal changes in light and weather. While we can never know how the narrative of “The Stranger” may have unfolded if Meursault had seen the sun as a welcome break from an Alaskan winter, considering not just the biological but also cultural underpinnings of how we respond to the environment can help us better understand ourselves and our world.