Helen Pluckrose has featured a fair amount on this site lately (e.g., here, here, here, and here), as she’s found a niche that I like: trying to forge a true progressivism that gives people the rights and respect they deserve rather than catering to the excesses and censoriousness of the Regressive Left. It’s a tough time for liberals, for we’re forced to negotiate an ideology that preserves the traditional Leftist values of free speech, empathy for minorities, and disdain for oppression, while at the same time fighting with other Leftists who want to redefine free speech so it excludes “hate speech,” to limn a hierarchy of intersectional oppression that claims that many of us (especially white males) have nothing to add to Leftist discourse, and to fetishize the oppression of gays and women by ideologies like Islam. (Pluckrose, by the way, is identified as “a researcher in the humanities who focuses on late medieval/early modern religious writing for and about women. She is critical of postmodernism and cultural constructivism which she sees as currently dominating the humanities.”)
Over at Conatus News, Pluckrose takes on the issue of obesity in a piece called “The dangerous problem with the concepts of fatshaming and fatphobia“, and, as usual, arrives at a sensible take.
I’ve long wanted to write about this issue, for we all know that obesity is dangerous to health, and most of us (like me) refrain from criticizing overweight people directly. Yet the Regressive Left have turned obese people into an oppressed minority whose defining characteristic, an unhealthy avoirdupois, is not just to be defended but to be celebrated—or at least palliated by assurances that it’s perfectly healthy. This movement goes under the name of “body positivity”, and is celebrated at places like HuffPo, where their section on this issue (called “body positivity and acceptance”—note the last word) has plenty of righteous articles decrying the criticism of degradation of overweight people, including ones who are morbidly obese. I agree with the mean-spiritedness of fat-shaming, which can be a form of oppression, but you’ll rarely see HuffPo or other “body positivity” pieces mention that being obese is a serious health risk. Avoidance of fat-shaming should never be accompanied by reassurance that obesity isn’t dangerous.
So how do we avoid fat-shaming while trying to help people get healthier? I don’t believe in forcing weight reduction through interventions like soda taxes, but neither should we trumpet that you can be “healthy at any size.” Yes, some really obese people can live fairly healthy lives, but those are not the norms but the outliers.
Pluckrose first defines the issue, as there are some who might say that obesity is simply another form of marginalization, and not inherently dangerous:
In the past decade, however, we have seen a change in intersectional feminist discourses around obesity and the rise of ‘fatness’ as a marginalised identity. The term ‘fatphobia’ has been coined, ‘fat-shaming’ is frequently identified and condemned, and there are even journals and courses for ‘fat studies’ and ‘fat activists’ who say things like:
If people want to work out and eat only salad, go for it. Do what makes you feel good. The problem comes when people are posting “before and after” images, which inherently champions being smaller as better. If that’s how you feel, fine, but do not call yourself body-positive. In order to be body-positive, you have to acknowledge that people truly deserve respect and autonomy over their bodies without judgement. Fat people aren’t “before” photos. We need to stop centring conversations about body-positivity around health in general.
She then presents the statistics, both in words and figures, that show, as we all know, that obesity is associated with a large number of health risks. Her words have extra credibility because she herself is overweight and trying to slim down, and has personally experienced “body positivity” intrusions:
In the past, I have been accused of speaking out of turn for saying that we should not be accepting of obesity as a norm. I have been told that, as a naturally slim person, I was merely being self-righteous and judgemental and that if I were fat, I would understand that fatness can be natural, beautiful and healthy. However, when I returned to address the issue as a fat person after doubling my weight during an illness that left me with limited mobility and needing to take centrally-acting medication which made me permanently ravenous, I found that my fatness granted me no right to speak on the issue at all. Instead, I have been informed that I do not merit a fat identity and am, in fact, a fake fat person because I regard my weight gain as part of a medical problem and intend to lose it all again and am, in fact, doing so and celebrating it.
I am told that my own experience of becoming easily tired and breathless, having difficulty getting up off the floor, being unable to ride a bike or run, suffering knee and hip pain if I walk too far, being more prone to chest infections, not to mention developing polycystic ovary syndrome and prediabetes as a result of weight gain, should be kept to myself if I want to be body-positive. Thanks, but I will feel much more positive about my body when it works properly again. My experiences of obesity have been rebuffed angrily with ‘Your experience isn’t everybody’s!’ This is a marked departure from the usual SocJus attitude in which we are to take the worst experiences as representative. In this case, we are to take the best experiences as representative to support the body-positivity narrative, no matter the cost.
I find the claim that there could be such a thing as a ‘fat identity’ as troubling as the idea of an identity based around treatable mental illness. It seems thoroughly psychologically harmful to take on a problem as an identity even if it is a problem that is very difficult or impossible to fully overcome. To define oneself by depression or OCD or obesity is to resign oneself to it and allow it to detract from every other more positive aspect of an individual. If mental illness or obesity becomes one’s identity, there is no motivation to overcome or improve either. An identity is something we become attached to and feel lost without and when it’s obesity, this can be fatal.
Finally, she offers her suggestions, which, save one, seem eminently rational. Her statements are indented:
- In public life: We should be guided by the consensus that obesity is unhealthy and a major cause of early death and serious life-limiting illness, and resist any attempts to normalise or glorify obesity. Whilst concerns about the fashion industry using models who are dangerously underweight are justified for the same reasons that glorifying obesity is, there is no justifications for protesting the employment of models with a healthy BMI. Attempts to equate thinness with white supremacy or argue health to be a social construct are, frankly, ludicrous. Instead, we can promote health and fitness by posting helpful articles from reputable sources on social media without targeting any individuals.
- In dealings with strangers and acquaintances: Mind your own business. There is almost never any reason to refer to a stranger’s or casual acquaintance’s weight. Studies have shown that genuine fat-shaming – unkind comments about an individual’s weight – actually makes people’s health worse.
She goes on to say that you can compliment somebody by saying, “Hey, you’ve lost weight,” or “You look great.” That, too, seems sensible; otherwise, keep your thoughts to yourself.
- In dealing with friends and loved ones: Raise the issue of their weight if necessary and do so kindly and show it to be motivated by your love for them. You might well receive a defensive reaction and, if you know you will, you could find ways to reduce this; . . . .
I do have an issue with this. Of course it’s good to be concerned with your friends’ well being, but for obesity and alcoholism, I’ve found, confronting the person, however gently, is nonproductive. For both conditions a person will seek help only when they themselves realize they have a problem, and a one-on-one conversation (or so I’ve found, and I’ve done this only with drinking) won’t accomplish that. Perhaps an “intervention” with several friends might. As for obesity, I’ve been told by overweight people that you needn’t tell them that they’re overweight and it’s unhealthy: they already know this. If a doctor can’t persuade someone of the benefits of losing weight, what chance does a friend have? But perhaps my efforts have simply been ham-handed. At any rate, the difference between obesity and alcoholism is that there’s no “alcoholism positivity” movement, though now I’m wondering why. “Healthy at any stage of inebriation!”
Finally, Pluckrose advises, in “dealing with yourself”, to confront the problem of your obesity and neither ignore it nor seek out confirmation—which can be found on many websites—that you’re beautiful and healthy. You may be attractive, but you’re not healthy. And most of those who seek such confirmation rather than shedding pounds, well, they’re not on great path to either health or happiness.
As for me, I’m fasting twice a week under a doctor’s supervision, and it’s working. It’s also easier than the low-carb diet, but that’s just me (I’ve never particularly suffered from missing meals, but I do like my wine and bread).
Reactions and experiences welcome in the comments below.