Recently I got mud on my boots in a popular feminist news blog. The topic was a new weight loss drug, and far be it for me to leave that shit alone.
I mocked its promised 11% weight loss (in the short term, since that shit gives you kidney lesions and can’t be taken long term) and brought up the 40% – 80% hereditary nature of body weight (which I got by scouring Google Scholar one weekend. I suggest you try it, it’s fascinating. Turns out I was underestimating – it’s more like 65% – 85% (see here and here)).
The response? I was asked how I ‘knew’ that my body weight was genetic. Did I get a genetic test done or something? Really. The commenter really wanted to know, guys, honest.
I asked how the commenter ‘knew’ their eye color, nose shape, and height were genetic. Did they get a test done? Really. I wanted to know.
The point of this is that body weight is highly heritable, as heritable as height, and so on. We know this. We’ve known this for nigh on fifty years now. It’s not even a little in question. But this obesity moral panic is so advanced, so strong, has so penetrated popular culture with its toxic propaganda and lies, that people find the generally genetic nature of body weight so unbelievable they demand our fatty ‘papers’ before we’re allowed to say our body weight is genetic.
If this isn’t proof enough that size discrimination and fat loathing has nothing to do with facts or science, I don’t know what is.