If you're looking to make a conversation uncomfortable, there's little more effective than throwing the F-word into it.
Fat, that is. Overweight and obese pack a similar punch. No matter which you pick, you're likely to get a strong reaction.
That's why mothers have always told us not to bring up issues of weight in polite company -- but thanks to a recent series of news stories, the touchy topic has been brought to the table anyway.
One of the more important reports is the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's recent study naming obesity as the second-leading preventable cause of death, nipping right at the heels of tobacco. It seems that far too many American adults are classified as obese, which puts them at an elevated risk for problems like heart disease and diabetes.
Adding fuel to the fire is the news that McDonald's is phasing out the "super size." They're not the only corporate bigwigs worried about the state of our arteries, either -- witness the sudden abundance of diet products, like Subway's new low-carb wraps or Krispy Kreme's attempts at a low-sugar doughnut.
Even the government has a finger in this pie. In responding to the obesity report, Department of Health and Human Services Secretary Tommy Thompson has been all in a tizzy over the detrimental effects of this national scale-tipping. Among the changes he's floated as possible steps to combat those extra inches on American thighs: redesigning nutrition labels to emphasize calorie counts, requiring restaurants to print nutritional information on their menus, and the brand-new HHS-sponsored pep talks encouraging us to take the stairs instead of the elevator.
On the one hand, the added attention to the "fat problem" is a good thing. There's certainly nothing wrong with a healthy lifestyle, and the fact that obesity is emerging as such a giant public health issue almost demands some sort of response from the HHS. When the goal is education, it's hard to find fault.
By education, I mean that people should at least understand which habits constitute a healthy lifestyle and which don't. No one, for example, should be left thinking that 5,000 calories a day is a normal intake, nor should they believe a super-sized portion of anything is necessarily asmart diet choice. Teaching Americans about the benefits of exercise and the importance of eating their green leafies is a laudable goal in itself.
So, for those who choose to embrace the slim and trim ideal, greater tools with which to make dietary decisions will be appreciated. Easy-to-read calorie labels, restaurant menus complete with fat content and salad options at Mickey D's will all help the gym rats and the South Beachers get skinny. But what about the people who aren't so healthfully inclined?
A lot of these existing and proposed anti-obesity measures work by making bigness even more socially unacceptable than it already is. We already idolize bodies like Barbie's and, unfortunately enough, sneer at people who fill up two seats on an airplane -- yet we still play host to higher obesity rates than many other countries.
Obviously, social disapproval itself is not a powerful enough force to change many minds about nutrition and health. Will the social stigma connected to ordering two large fries instead of a super size really drive anyone to finally lace up those running shoes and get fit? Will Tommy Thompson urging us to choose a carrot instead of carrot cake lead to grand-scale calorie epiphanies?
While it's safe to assume that in this culture, few really want to be fat, that doesn't necessarily translate to everyone behaving healthfully. It's quite similar to smoking, the other preventable killer -- we all know it's bad for you, but smokers still cling tenaciously to the right to blacken their lungs if they so choose. And if someone wants to chow down on the fettuccine alfredo, well, how can we say that's not within her rights as well?
Ultimately, the responsibility for your body and your health lies with you, not fast food joints or the federal government. It's one thing for the HHS to promote healthy living, but Tommy Thompson playing the role of a finger-wagging health teacher can be needlessly demonizing to those who don't fit into a size two.
I fear that the familiar specter of eating disorders lurks behind these amped-up health campaigns, too -- in the frenzy of promoting slim waists, not enough energy is spent reminding people that they can have a naturally larger frame and still be healthy. Regardless of whether or not you think Seventeen's models are to blame for anorexia, increasing the social pressure to be thin is a risky move for the many who already have body image problems.
Fat certainly presents a tricky issue for our governmental guardians of health. Can they walk the line of educating without offending? Will social disapproval of a few extra pounds ever balance with the individual's right to tend to his health as he sees fit?
Whatever you do, don't raise these questions at your next dinner party. It's not polite, and besides, you don't want to ruin anyone's appetite.
Elisabeth Kwak-Hefferan is a senior communications major from Wheaton, Ill. Six Feet One appears on Tuesdays.
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