When obesity became a true epidemic in the US back in the 1980s, people handled it the same way big people have always handled adversity, with humor. Fat jokes, fridge alarms, and Sweatin’ to The Oldies were everywhere. The American people took it in stride and followed the latest fad diet of the month. From eliminating fats to trying to cut all calories from their diets, many undertook each craze with fury for the first 24 hours to 2 weeks. Somewhere along the way, they would lose interest and just stop, proclaiming it as “too hard.”
Then, in the early 2000s, the “fat positive” movement saw a resurgence. While it originally launched back in 1969, it wasn’t until this point that mainstream media bought into it. Originating largely with women who claimed that it was genetics that made them heavy, they claimed that they were just made this way and people should accept them. In their minds, no matter what diet or exercise they tried, nothing would work. Or they would claim an allergy to any fresh fruit or vegetable.
Around 2018, a class of drugs called GLP-1 Ras came on the market. Commonly called Ozempic and Wegovy, they were designed to help people make natural insulin, as well as decrease the sugar in their blood. Soon after hitting the market, larger users started reporting dramatic weight loss.
By late 2022, word of this “easy” weight loss reached the lazy, and doctors started prescribing it for weight loss, just off-label. Much like Viagra started as a pill to help hypertension (high blood pressure) and angina pectoris (a symptom of ischemic heart disease), off-label use for “personal” problems is not uncommon. In this use, it slows the movement of food in the stomach, causing the user to feel fuller longer. This means people are eating less frequently, and they see this as their golden ticket to weight loss without fresh foods or getting off the couch.
Raven Smith covered the surge in Ozempic prescriptions for Vogue in March. “With Ozempic, being overweight can instantly (if expensively) be fixed. Larger people can swiftly transition to a more socially acceptable size. Ozempic is a miracle drug, a cure for the fatness we’ve begrudgingly forced ourselves to accept.”
While many might see this as harsh, she’s right.
As a society, Americans got comfortable with the idea of being lazy and not working for a healthier and longer life. Especially following COVID. Podcasts and YouTube channels dedicated to people overeating or simply living the fat life were now trending. People saw food and gluttony as something to celebrate and embrace as the life people should be leading. To them, we deserved it to celebrate surviving COVID.
Yet, many of the people who gained fame for being overweight found themselves facing a dilemma; lose the weight that had helped make them popular with Ozempic or end up just another dead statistic like the rest. Those who opted for the former usually ended up keeping their life as well as adding years to it. Sure, they lost viewers and got a lot of hate mail, but at least they were around to read it.
Desiring the easy answer has been a multi-billion-dollar industry in the West for ages. The yin to the yang of fat jokes in the 1980s were the easy answers that made being lazy look like a smart move. All sorts of low-to-no-effort devices and diets were invented, and people were amazed to learn that this wasn’t the answer. So when Ozempic came along to change all of that, people started thinking America had once again been made great.
Unfortunately for the lazy, deaths due to Ozempic have been surging as a result of people overusing it. In the end, ultimately, lazy habits will always lose to discipline and doing the right thing.
