America might be the obesity capital of the world, but here in the UK we’re doing our damndest to outflab you. We’re incessantly told that obesity is a time-bomb for our generation. It’s the biggest crisis facing the National Health Service (NHS). It’s as dangerous as smoking. Everyone – politicians, social commentators, health professionals – seems to agree that we have to do something about it or face dire, wobbly consequences. And a lot of accurate ‘your mum’ jokes.
There is, of course, some truth in amongst the hyperbolic burbling; if you can’t see your toes, it’s probably not good, and if your daily bread is accompanied with seven rashers of bacon and an egg or three, then you’re going to live to regret it. Or not, as the case may be. And with anywhere between two thirds and three quarters of adults in the UK classed as obese depending on whose supersized statistics you swallow, something certainly needs to be done.
But what? The current tactic seems to be to focus on the negative effects of being extremely overweight: increased risk of type 2 diabetes, increased risk of heart disease, increased risk of arthritis etc. Not only this, but near-constant cookery and food programmes, as well as just about every magazine ever, tell us what not to eat if we don’t want to be fat and lonely.
Until recently, I’d thought that the only impact the relentless anti-obesity drive had on self-esteem was on the people it was directed at: the vast numbers of vast people. But then I was sent a link to a petition on the government website by a friend. The petition was to ask the government to balance the information they gave about obesity with information about other eating disorders, such as anorexia and bulimia, something which many believe could help prevent or limit the damage done by such disorders. Susan Ringwood, chief executive of beat, the leading eating disorders charity in the UK (who were not involved with the petition), told me: “There is anecdotal evidence that some public health messages can make people who may have a difficult relationship with eating or exercise worse. Government agencies have got to treat this area sensitively.”
The common conception about such eating disorders is that they’re provoked by low self-esteem and poor body image, which is usually squarely blamed on the media and fashion industry. Rows about size zero models and unrealistic advertising regularly engulf the nation’s opinion pages, with the consensus being that if only they’d include some slightly less skinny people then these problems would go away.
That’s simplistic cause-and-effect reasoning, but there’s almost certainly at least a little truth behind it. The problem is that this is now the accepted ‘cause’ of anorexia and bulimia for many people, so any other possible factors that could have an effect are largely ignored. This is particularly dangerous for young people in the UK, who are most vulnerable. I asked Rachel, a British student who has anorexia, about the effect the anti-obesity culture has had on her condition.
“Encouraging weight loss is the main problem for me,” she said. “You get constantly bombarded with emails, adverts on Facebook, dieting products in shops – you can’t get away from ways to help to lose weight.”
“You see the adverts more often than you see the size zero models, and it’s easier to dissociate yourself from the models, whereas you can’t from the adverts. Everyone seems obsessed with losing weight, so you feel you should be too, and if you’re not you feel fat and lazy.”
Christine, who is also a student, agrees that the media can have an effect: “It probably doesn’t play a role in the development of eating disorders, but it can help to maintain them. When I was in treatment and on intensive weight gain, so much of the media I saw was saying the exact opposite of what the doctors were saying to me, and that made it more difficult.”
Rosie, a third student, agrees with Christine: “The images of super skinny models and celebrities definitely didn't cause my eating disorder, but they did give me something to fixate on once it had developed.”
Ali is another student, and has recovered from severe anorexia. She thinks that although the media does have an obsession with how to lose weight, it’s not the whole story: “The media tend to mix their messages. One magazine will tell you at the start how terribly ill and skinny a 'stressed out' celeb is, and a couple of pages on you'll get advice on how to lose a stone in a week!”
Magazines, of course, are able to use the questionable excuse that their demographic is adults who can supposedly make informed decisions about weight loss and eating, but adverts on websites like Facebook or Hotmail that are regularly used by younger people can’t even hide behind this. They might not be explicitly directed at teenagers, but there’s little doubt that they’re still seen and taken in by the most vulnerable groups. These adverts don’t discriminate in their targets – I regularly get suggestions for dating agencies on Facebook despite my ‘in a relationship’ status – and so anyone, regardless of their weight, health, or mental condition, is offered ways to lose weight.
And it’s not just magazines and adverts; low-fat, healthy ranges in supermarkets and the new information on some restaurant menus in the UK are also contributing to the problem. With the increasingly detailed labels on food it’s now easier than ever to count the calories you consume, and the internet makes it possible to discover the number of calories in just about anything. I’m grudgingly impressed when Rachel lists off the top of her head the number of calories in an array of fruit and veg, but it also makes me realise just what effect the masses of information available can have on someone who already worries about their weight.