Ozempic and Examining the Roots of the Thin Ideal

Those keeping up with celebrity news are likely aware of the speculation about stars using Ozempic, a drug approved by the FDA in 2017 as a treatment for diabetes, but which is currently often used as a weight loss drug. This weight loss trend comes at the same time that many social media users have been rediscovering the music and fashion of the mid-2010s, which has infused our feeds with not only the nostalgia of Lana Del Rey’s “Born to Die” but also the romanticization of mental illness and, specifically, eating disorders, that was widespread at the time.

These trends have many asking: Are eating disorders an individual issue, or is our social landscape responsible for creating the conditions that encourage them?

Although there are biological markers associated with certain mental illnesses, these conditions are largely identified by behavior that harms an individual’s ability to conform to societal norms. Overall, we see mental illness as an individual’s issue and, in our capitalist society, prescribe individual solutions. For example, if you have depression, you take medication or go to therapy to better contribute to our society.

But whereas most mental illnesses are seen as transgressions of normal social functioning, some mental illnesses — namely, eating disorders — indicate an individual’s social success and desirability. As a result, individuals with eating disorders are often socially rewarded as they move closer to the goal post of the ideal body, which also happens to be a very sick one.

We recognize on some level that eating disorders are dangerous, yet they have persisted over the years and even flourished in response to social messaging. Since the 1960s, the push toward slenderness has increased, bolstered by the creation of new industries targeting women as customers for weight loss products. This standard of beauty does not exist in a vacuum; it’s the product of ideologies of racism, classism, ableism, and ageism — all of which punish “deviant” bodies.

Eating disorders are also the obvious product of patriarchy: From the restriction of reproductive rights to the diagnosis of female hysteria to, yes, thinness, women’s bodies have been pathologized and managed throughout Western history. Idealizing thinness is a crucial mechanism in suppressing women’s agency. The practices of self-surveillance and ritualistic control over one’s size serve as a form of subservience to patriarchal norms that define women by their appearance. Women are encouraged to submit to these standards and pursue thinness at all costs, even if that means sacrificing their health to reap the benefits of social approval.

Ideals for women’s bodies are largely disseminated by popular culture, including magazine covers featuring thin, white, young women, and influencers who appear the same. Social media and advertising have been identified as risk factors for disordered eating patterns, suggesting that interaction with this content can increase women’s body dissatisfaction. Given the rise in content which glamorizes thinness, as well as the normalization of Ozempic use, this social landscape could be a hotbed for eating disorders.

The use of drugs such as Ozempic continues to perpetuate this damaging standard of thinness and encourage women’s subordination to this standard. To remove the pressures placed upon women to alter their appearance, we need to discuss the social purpose that these pressures serve. It is important to expand the conversations about eating disorders from the realm of individual pathology to the social context that creates them. Although deconstructing patriarchal structures is complex, interrogating our own beliefs about our bodies could be a crucial step to reclaim agency over women’s power.