Rethinking Fascia: A New Frontier in Human Biology
For a long time, fascia was treated as filler. Dissected away, set aside, or ignored entirely, it was seen as passive connective tissue with no real function beyond holding things in place. Ida Rolf, born in 1896, was an early luminary who recognized that it was primarily fascia, not bone, that gives us our structure. However, at that time, it was not yet known how dynamic and complex fascia truly is. Early Rolfing thought of fascia as tissue that could be molded and stretched mechanically through strong pressure, which we now know is outdated, thanks in no small part to research paid for and supported by the Rolf Research Foundation.
Now we know things are more complicated. Fascia contracts more similarly to how our blood vessels and organs contract, instead of the way muscle works. Our nervous system uses fascia to map out our bodies in space. Fascia moves and protects the body by distributing forces.
This post summarizes some of the fascia research that has upended our conception of the tissue and reflects on what we know now and what it means for people who do hands-on work like Rolfing® Structural Integration and other forms of therapeutic bodywork.
Fascia: From Background to Center Stage
Research since the early 2000s, especially from Robert Schleip and the Stecco family, has brought fascia into sharper focus as a responsive, sensory, and even contractile tissue. Schleip was a Rolfer earlier in his career and used to write for the Rolfing journal.
In Schleip’s 2003 paper on fascial plasticity, , he describes how Ruffini endings respond to sustained stretching and shearing. He also highlights Golgi receptors, which respond to deep, sustained pressure and may modulate tone and tension. Stimulation of these receptors is associated with parasympathetic nervous system activation, which is the part of the nervous system linked to rest, relaxation, and recovery. This gives weight to the idea that slow, mindful pressure does more than manipulate tissue—it engages the nervous system in meaningful ways.
Further research, including histological studies by Carla and Antonio Stecco (2007 paper, 2010 paper) confirmed the presence of Ruffini and Pacinian corpuscles in deep fascia, reinforcing the idea that fascia is not just connective, but highly innervated. These mechanoreceptors help explain how therapeutic bodywork affects proprioception, orientation, and the sense of where the body is in space.
The Steccos and other researchers have emphasized the importance of fascia's ability to glide, for the layers of tissues in the body to slide smoothly over one another. When this gliding is compromised—due to injury, inflammation, or altered viscosity of the extracellular matrix—it can impair force transmission, restrict movement, and activate nociceptors, the sensory neurons associated with pain perception. In other words, if fascial layers don’t move well, they may start to send distress signals to the brain. This can be due to a clear physical cause, or because the nervous system interprets the mechanical forces as a threat.
Therapeutic bodywork may help restore this gliding function, not by forcefully breaking up tissue, but by influencing the nervous system and viscosity of the matrix and improving interlayer gliding through sustained, neurologically-informed touch.
Schleip and colleagues (2006) also showed that fascia can contract in a smooth muscle-like manner via myofibroblasts—specialized cells that express alpha-smooth muscle actin (α-SMA). These contractions occur very slowly and are not under conscious control, but they may help fascia maintain distributed tension over time. Unlike skeletal muscle, which reacts in milliseconds, this kind of contraction occurs across hours or days, possibly influencing posture, breathing, load distribution, and chronic strain patterns.
Moreover, fascia doesn’t stop at the musculoskeletal system. There are anatomical links between visceral fascia, the membranes that suspend and surround organs, and the deep fascial lines that guide movement and tension. Visceral ligaments, such as the mesentery, not only tether the organs but also transmit forces into the broader fascial network. This means that chronic tension in the abdomen or diaphragm could affect how someone breathes, stands, or moves through the world.
Taken together, these findings paint a picture of fascia as far more than a passive wrap around muscles and bones. Fascia senses and responds. It works on principles of tensegrity, which involves balancing tension and compression throughout the system, using fascia to distribute forces around stable structures like bones.
Tom Myers of Anatomy Trains, student of Ida Rolf, gives a demonstration of tensegrity.
What This Means for Rolfing® and Therapeutic Bodywork
In some ways, this research affirms what many practitioners have observed for years: that slow, intentional manual work can affect local tissue, but also the system as a whole. It can shift tone, breath, awareness. It can create a sense of lightness or stability that wasn’t there before.
But it also complicates the picture. The more we learn, the less likely it seems that there’s a single mechanism behind any therapeutic result. It’s not just the fascia. I’m also working with the muscles that move fascia and bone. I’m slacking, stretching, and flossing nerves wrapped in fascia. Meanwhile, everything is mediated by the nervous system. Plus the person’s history, movement habits, beliefs, and more. I’m working with a whole person, not just their web of connective tissue.
That’s why Rolfing doesn’t focus on chasing pain symptoms. It works through the relationships between structures. It helps people consciously notice and change how they move, how they organize themselves, how they respond to gravity and to the world around them. But it also works at a deeper level. Every organism, even microbes and plants, have some sense of where they are in space in relation to food, water, sunlight, danger, etc.
Knowledge, Uncertainty, and Practice
As science catches up to what manual therapists and movement practitioners have long suspected, we find ourselves in a familiar spot: thrilled by new knowledge, and humbled by how little we still know.
Fascia is a remarkable tissue. Understanding its role in the body has helped many of us move beyond the idea of isolated muscles and bones toward a more integrated, systemic view of health. The tensegrity model shows how local restrictions or imbalances can ripple throughout the body, influencing posture, movement, and pain.
For every study that answers a question about fascia, five more questions appear. Rolfing is a practice shaped by inquiry—not just into tissue, but into how people move, feel, and relate to their own bodies. The research adds texture to what we already do. But the real work still happens one session at a time, between practitioner and client, helping the body find more space, stability, and freedom.
Curious where all this comes from? Read Part 1: The Roots of Rolfing for a look at the long-standing traditions that shaped this work—from ancient healing practices to the development of osteopathy and structural integration.
Buckminster Fuller coined the term "tensegrity" and was a personal friend of Ida Rolf.