A Holy Rise, a Capitalist Fall
Hear ye, hear ye! Not only did the Pope’s conclave wrap up (cue the world’s most dramatic HR hiring process), but Weight Watchers just filed for bankruptcy. It’s not every day that two major institutions of control and guilt face judgment at the same time. Coincidence? Most likely. But I’m choosing to write about it anyway.
Weight Watchers wasn’t just another diet plan—it was part of a capitalistic, money-hungry market of band-aid solutions and quick fixes. Their philosophy? If only you could control the amount you consume, then you’d be happy. Healthy. Complete. That’s the lie most diet plans and weight-loss gurus sell. We’re not going to deal with the mental or internal issues you might be struggling with, but as long as you look good in a bathing suit, you’re set.
Let’s take a quick poll: who here lost the last five pounds and watched all their problems magically disappear? Exactly. That couldn’t be further from the truth—especially based on personal experience (check out my Substack if you're curious).
I’ve experienced firsthand that you can maintain a healthy weight without restricting, counting calories, or eliminating your tasty evening treat. However, because learning this is free and doesn’t generate profit, I believe that’s why it isn’t more widely shared.
While I do believe that "calories in, calories out" is part of the equation, it's far from the whole picture. The WW mindset doesn’t teach you anything about nutrition or which foods are actually nourishing and satisfying. It’s strictly clinical—focused on using a calorie deficit to achieve results, so of course you’ll see changes in the short term. However, I have yet to see a weight-loss program that consistently delivers long-term results—I’m talking about keeping the weight off for 3+ years. I’d be happy to be proven wrong on this one—drop it in the comments if you disagree.
Unfortunately, diet culture—and brands like Weight Watchers—aren’t going anywhere. They’ll be bought out or rebranded. More wolves in sheep’s clothing will crawl out of the woodwork like cockroaches on a decaying piece of cheese. But with each new “solution”—whether it’s Nutrisystem, the Atkins Diet, or Ozempic—it always circles back to one thing: the obsession with thinness as the ultimate form of freedom.
Except once you hit your “goal weight,” one of two things usually happens: you either obsess over maintaining it, or you decide it’s still not enough and spiral into obsession. When the number doesn’t unlock the euphoric bliss you were promised, you assume you’re doing something wrong.
To bring in the famous philosopher Descartes: diet culture is rooted in Cartesian dualism—the split between mind and body. The body becomes the enemy and must be punished. The mind blames the body for overeating, undereating, gaining weight, or even getting sick. A healthier way to view it is that your mind and body aren’t enemies to battle or control—they’re collaborators. When they’re in conversation, not conflict, you’re more likely to make choices that feel aligned, sustainable, and true to who you are. Easier said than done—but possible, with plenty of trial, error, and grace... and then some more trial, and a lot more error.
When I think about it now, my body is just a vessel of skin, blood, bones, and oxygen trying to survive. It has no control over what happens to it. And when I view it that way, I feel heartbroken over the trauma I’ve put it through—just for trying to do its best with what it’s been given.
Zooming out, Gen Z (thank God for them) seems to be rejecting the outdated idea of “wellness” as a code word for diet culture and leaning more into actual well-being. They are calling out 'wellness experts' left and right (and rightfully so) who are actually just conduits for aesthetic starvation. Diet culture isn’t dead, but the trend of restricting yourself through 'zero-point' foods while neglecting everything else? That—hopefully, fingers crossed—seems to be on its way out.
For every actress using a GLP-1 to slim down for awards season, there seem to be five more people waking up to what’s actually in their food—and where it came from. There’s a growing conversation around nourishment: healthy fats, FIBER, protein, holistic wellness. Less interest in the quick fix that never actually fixed anything.
We still have work to do (me included). I still catch myself slipping into old habits from time to time. But the more I’ve come to understand my body—its cues, its cravings—and nourish it with what it actually asks for, the more trust I build. The less control I feel I need.
I truly believe every ache, pain, or pleasure response is a message from your body—either celebrating you or throwing up a roadblock saying, “Hey, something’s not right.” We just have to quiet down enough to be able to listen to it.
So while diet culture may still be lurking in the cold, hungry shadows, the old ways of selling it?
Definitely out of business.
