The Economic Imperative of Thinness
Or, why do we all hate our bodies at the moment?
Content Warning: this email touches on bad relationships with our bodies and weight stigma. If you’re not into that, then there’s lots of other content here. It also contains details about an event I’m running for anyone who would like to have a kinder relationship with the bodies. If you just want details on that, scroll to the bottom.
In the last week three women have told me they hate their bodies. These weren’t conversations I initiated and each was in a different circumstance, we weren’t all sat around comparing cellulite together. Nor am I exaggerating when I use the word “hate”, that was their description of their current relationship with their body.
At the same time, the main topic of conversation on the diabetic forums I’m a part of has been a drug called Ozempic. Originally created to lower blood sugars in Type 2 diabetics (and therefore save lives), pharmacies are running out of it because it’s become the go-to solution for non-diabetics desiring rapid weight-loss.
And finally, for the past few months I’ve noticed a growth of influencers across my social media talk about how they are going on a diet. This is usually followed by a lot of huffing and puffing about “feeling better in themselves” and “it’s about health, not weight”. Given that for the last few years the only acceptable narrative for women around their bodies has been, “I love my curves and diet culture is part of the patriarchy”, it’s hard not to wonder, “what’s changed?”
The answer, I think, is very simple. The economy has changed. In a cost of living crisis it simply does not pay to be a fat woman. Or even a slightly chubby one. While we talk a lot about the gender pay gap and are starting to talk about the ethnicity pay gap, we don’t tend to talk about the weight pay gap. This excellent article from The Economist sets out the costs but, ironically, it’s behind a paywall so let me give you some key facts. Overall it shows that rich people in economically advanced countries tend to be thinner than poor people. However:
“…the correlation between income and weight in these countries is driven almost entirely by women”. So a rich man is just as likely to be overweight as a poor man but a rich woman is much more likely to be thin than a poor woman.
“Myriad studies find that overweight or obese women are paid less than their thinner peers while there is little difference in wages between obese men and men in the medically defined “normal” range… The penalty for an obese woman is significant, costing her about 10% of her income.”
Data from the Harvard Implicit Bias test shows “discrimination on the basis of race and sex has fallen over the last decade. Negative associations of gay people have fallen by a third. Weight is the exception—attitudes towards heavy individuals have become substantially more negative.”
When you realise that this is the environment we’re all trying to make our way in, is it any wonder that our relationship with our bodies is suffering? Right now being in a body that you have total control over isn’t just a nice to have, it’s a way of staying safe in the world. And I don’t believe this just applies to weight.
As women we get so many messages about what our body should be. Thin, attractive, athletic, resilient, healthy, fertile, giving, on show, hidden away, celebrated, ignored, experienced, young… the list is endless. When we’re living in a time where people with good jobs can’t afford their electricity bills, our inner desire for safety kicks in and we tend to conform. This is backed up by some other strange things that happen during a dip in the economy.
First up, the rate of divorce falls. This is largely due to the financial cost of divorce (when your savings are already falling, you don’t want to hand over half of them to someone you now hate) but the research also suggests that couples don’t stay together just to save money. During a recession our appreciation of that bond, of being part of a family rather than out there in the world by ourselves, increases. We tend to place greater emphasis on the concept of “family” than we might perhaps do in a growth period.
Secondly, research shows that while our tolerance for the welfare state has been falling over the past three decades, it drops faster during times of recession. To put it simply, our feeling of, “if I can do it, then so can you” tends to grow when we’re financially straightened. If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of any sort of well-meaning advice about your body, then this attitude probably sounds familiar and you know how easy it is to want to buy into it.
As humans we are wired to want to be part of the group, whatever that group is. It’s why you think you’re making a radical change to die your hair magenta and then the next day it seems like everyone is doing it (or why when I was a teenager my mother was afraid of anyone else in my friendship group getting pregnant - apparently it’s infectious). We are designed to pick up on the prevailing trends and blend in with them.
With all of this swirling about in the atmosphere, is it any wonder that right now we’re more concerned than ever with what our bodies can and can’t be?
I am not immune to this atmosphere. While I long ago stopped believing that there was a diet out there that could once and for all help me be thin, I haven’t quite been able to stop hoping that it exists. The voice in my head which critiques my body is louder than ever and yet the irony is that I know I actually quite like my body. I also know that when I listen to it, I make better decisions about everything in my life. When I’m kind to my body, it seems like the universe decides to give me a break in reward. But it’s hard to be kind to yourself when the world around you is telling you not to be.
I know now that when I hear the voice of the critic the only way to quiet it is with community. Last night I had a Zoom call with some amazing women I know and we did a short exercise where we got present with our bodies, asked those bodies what it was that they really wanted and then wrote a list of all our desires. And when we read those lists to each other the desires were simple. We wanted more connection, more peace, more freedom, more love. We wanted those experiences that sit both beyond our physical form and deep within us. It was a reminder that when I think I hate my body I’ve really just stopped listening to it.
This newsletter comes with a big thank you to the women who were brave enough to tell me their struggles with their bodies at the moment, without your honesty I might never have stopped to check in with myself.
It also comes with an offer. A few weeks ago I ran a gathering for paid subscribers where we took some time out to think about what we wanted for 2023. It was a really beautiful and connected evening and I’d like to do it again, this time with a focus on our bodies.
If you and your body have been feeling a bit out of sorts recently, if you’re finding it harder to be kind to it than usual or if you’d just appreciate having an hour or so to reconnect and think about what matters to you, then I’m going to hold another gathering on the 29th March at 7.30pm UK time. If you’d like to attend you can either join as a paid subscriber here (subscriptions start at £6.99 a month and you are not tied into any time period) or you can email me and I will offer you a place for a one off fee of £25.
Thank you for this - I hadn't connected the link between the economy and weight/body image before.