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My crystal ball says that Big Food’s ongoing development and marketing of products designed for the reduced appetites of people taking anti-obesity medications will simultaneously be welcomed by their target market and scorned by self-righteous, healthy-living, just-try-harder, isn’t-this-just-feeding-the-problem hypocrites.
For the privileged, self-righteous, healthy-living crowd, the right to enjoy dietary indulgences and conveniences is inversely proportional to your weight. Often, judgment isn’t cast on the less-than-perfect choices of those with so-called “normal” weight; that’s often not the case for those with obesity.
Think you’re free from this paradigm? If you are, good for you. But I’d wager that there are plenty of readers who state that they’re free from bias, but when standing in supermarket checkout lines, they scrutinize and silently pass judgment on the contents of the grocery carts of people with obesity or, similarly, on the orders of people with obesity in fast-food restaurants.
Yet, there are bags of chips and cookies in most of our weekly carts, and who among us doesn’t, at times, grab some greasy comfort or convenience?
Unfortunately, the fuel for these sorts of judgments — implicit weight bias — is not only pervasive but also durable. A recent study of temporal changes to implicit biases demonstrated that unlike biases about race, skin tone, sexuality, age, and disability — between 2007 and 2016, tested levels of these implicit bias were seen to be in decline —biases about weight remain stable.
As to the products themselves, according to the recent article, they’ll be smaller, lower in calories, and high in protein and fat. To put it another way, compared with their nonshrunken counterparts,
With that said, I’d be remiss if I didn’t assert that the discussion of the merits or lack thereof of these sorts of offerings is misguided and pointless in that the food industry’s job is not one of social service provision or preventive healthcare. As I’ve written in the past, the food industry is neither friend, foe, nor partner. The food industry’s one job is to sell food, and if they see a market opportunity, they’ll take it. In this case, that turns out to be refreshing in a sense in that unlike moral-panic scolds, the food industry doesn’t judge its customers’ right to buy its products on the basis of how much their customers weigh.
Whereas the food industry’s response to anti-obesity medications’ impact on appetite may be to embrace it, many others’, including in medicine, seem to involve some degree of judgment or scorn. Yes, our behavior has an impact on our weight, but intentional behavior change in the name of weight requires multiple layers of deep and perpetual privilege. And yes, our environment is indeed a tremendous contributor to the challenge of obesity, but the world is full of medical conditions influenced or caused by our environment. Yet, discussions around how medications fail to address obesity’s root cause are the only such root-cause discussions I ever see.
Put more plainly, “how dare we develop medications for conditions influenced by our environment” is an odd stance to take in a world full of conditions influenced by our environments and where our environments’ primary change-driver is sales. Products that support the use of medications that improve life’s quality while markedly reducing the risk for an ever-growing number of conditions should be celebrated.
Dr. Freedhoff has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships:
Serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Bariatric Medical Institute and Constant Health; received research grant from Novo Nordisk; publicly shared opinions via Weighty Matters and social media.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
My crystal ball says that Big Food’s ongoing development and marketing of products designed for the reduced appetites of people taking anti-obesity medications will simultaneously be welcomed by their target market and scorned by self-righteous, healthy-living, just-try-harder, isn’t-this-just-feeding-the-problem hypocrites.
For the privileged, self-righteous, healthy-living crowd, the right to enjoy dietary indulgences and conveniences is inversely proportional to your weight. Often, judgment isn’t cast on the less-than-perfect choices of those with so-called “normal” weight; that’s often not the case for those with obesity.
Think you’re free from this paradigm? If you are, good for you. But I’d wager that there are plenty of readers who state that they’re free from bias, but when standing in supermarket checkout lines, they scrutinize and silently pass judgment on the contents of the grocery carts of people with obesity or, similarly, on the orders of people with obesity in fast-food restaurants.
Yet, there are bags of chips and cookies in most of our weekly carts, and who among us doesn’t, at times, grab some greasy comfort or convenience?
Unfortunately, the fuel for these sorts of judgments — implicit weight bias — is not only pervasive but also durable. A recent study of temporal changes to implicit biases demonstrated that unlike biases about race, skin tone, sexuality, age, and disability — between 2007 and 2016, tested levels of these implicit bias were seen to be in decline —biases about weight remain stable.
As to the products themselves, according to the recent article, they’ll be smaller, lower in calories, and high in protein and fat. To put it another way, compared with their nonshrunken counterparts,
With that said, I’d be remiss if I didn’t assert that the discussion of the merits or lack thereof of these sorts of offerings is misguided and pointless in that the food industry’s job is not one of social service provision or preventive healthcare. As I’ve written in the past, the food industry is neither friend, foe, nor partner. The food industry’s one job is to sell food, and if they see a market opportunity, they’ll take it. In this case, that turns out to be refreshing in a sense in that unlike moral-panic scolds, the food industry doesn’t judge its customers’ right to buy its products on the basis of how much their customers weigh.
Whereas the food industry’s response to anti-obesity medications’ impact on appetite may be to embrace it, many others’, including in medicine, seem to involve some degree of judgment or scorn. Yes, our behavior has an impact on our weight, but intentional behavior change in the name of weight requires multiple layers of deep and perpetual privilege. And yes, our environment is indeed a tremendous contributor to the challenge of obesity, but the world is full of medical conditions influenced or caused by our environment. Yet, discussions around how medications fail to address obesity’s root cause are the only such root-cause discussions I ever see.
Put more plainly, “how dare we develop medications for conditions influenced by our environment” is an odd stance to take in a world full of conditions influenced by our environments and where our environments’ primary change-driver is sales. Products that support the use of medications that improve life’s quality while markedly reducing the risk for an ever-growing number of conditions should be celebrated.
Dr. Freedhoff has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships:
Serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Bariatric Medical Institute and Constant Health; received research grant from Novo Nordisk; publicly shared opinions via Weighty Matters and social media.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
My crystal ball says that Big Food’s ongoing development and marketing of products designed for the reduced appetites of people taking anti-obesity medications will simultaneously be welcomed by their target market and scorned by self-righteous, healthy-living, just-try-harder, isn’t-this-just-feeding-the-problem hypocrites.
For the privileged, self-righteous, healthy-living crowd, the right to enjoy dietary indulgences and conveniences is inversely proportional to your weight. Often, judgment isn’t cast on the less-than-perfect choices of those with so-called “normal” weight; that’s often not the case for those with obesity.
Think you’re free from this paradigm? If you are, good for you. But I’d wager that there are plenty of readers who state that they’re free from bias, but when standing in supermarket checkout lines, they scrutinize and silently pass judgment on the contents of the grocery carts of people with obesity or, similarly, on the orders of people with obesity in fast-food restaurants.
Yet, there are bags of chips and cookies in most of our weekly carts, and who among us doesn’t, at times, grab some greasy comfort or convenience?
Unfortunately, the fuel for these sorts of judgments — implicit weight bias — is not only pervasive but also durable. A recent study of temporal changes to implicit biases demonstrated that unlike biases about race, skin tone, sexuality, age, and disability — between 2007 and 2016, tested levels of these implicit bias were seen to be in decline —biases about weight remain stable.
As to the products themselves, according to the recent article, they’ll be smaller, lower in calories, and high in protein and fat. To put it another way, compared with their nonshrunken counterparts,
With that said, I’d be remiss if I didn’t assert that the discussion of the merits or lack thereof of these sorts of offerings is misguided and pointless in that the food industry’s job is not one of social service provision or preventive healthcare. As I’ve written in the past, the food industry is neither friend, foe, nor partner. The food industry’s one job is to sell food, and if they see a market opportunity, they’ll take it. In this case, that turns out to be refreshing in a sense in that unlike moral-panic scolds, the food industry doesn’t judge its customers’ right to buy its products on the basis of how much their customers weigh.
Whereas the food industry’s response to anti-obesity medications’ impact on appetite may be to embrace it, many others’, including in medicine, seem to involve some degree of judgment or scorn. Yes, our behavior has an impact on our weight, but intentional behavior change in the name of weight requires multiple layers of deep and perpetual privilege. And yes, our environment is indeed a tremendous contributor to the challenge of obesity, but the world is full of medical conditions influenced or caused by our environment. Yet, discussions around how medications fail to address obesity’s root cause are the only such root-cause discussions I ever see.
Put more plainly, “how dare we develop medications for conditions influenced by our environment” is an odd stance to take in a world full of conditions influenced by our environments and where our environments’ primary change-driver is sales. Products that support the use of medications that improve life’s quality while markedly reducing the risk for an ever-growing number of conditions should be celebrated.
Dr. Freedhoff has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships:
Serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Bariatric Medical Institute and Constant Health; received research grant from Novo Nordisk; publicly shared opinions via Weighty Matters and social media.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.