When I first began talking to people who were on Ozempic for my book, Off the Scales: The Inside Story of Ozempic and the Race to Cure Obesity, a depressing reality dawned on me: being thin was more important than ever in our society.
I had always assumed good-looking people got an easier ride in life. Call it what you want—pretty privilege or beauty bias—but countless studies have shown that attractive people are more likely to get plum jobs and promotions, have the widest possible dating pool, and are even less likely to go to jail than their less attractive peers. It’s like winning a genetic lottery.
Over the past two years, as the weight-loss benefits of a new breed of prescription drugs have unfolded, it has also become clear to me that being thin has the same magical powers as being attractive. Take Sarah, a case study who features in the early part of the book. She told me how she spent the second half of her childhood and most of her adult life battling her weight. She thought of herself as an introvert, shy and reserved; she thought that explained why people tended not to engage with her. Her father would often quickly lose interest in her stories. But when she lost 70 pounds by taking Wegovy, an obesity medication made from the same ingredients as Ozempic, her world transformed. She got engaged to her boyfriend of eight years, she got promoted, doors were held open, everywhere she went men and women chatted warmly with her, and her own father even sat attentively laughing at the same stories that had previously bored him. All of a sudden, she was worth listening to.
When I’m out at dinner parties or speaking to friends, I hear the same stories. Whether they are taking these drugs or not, they often say their mothers are nicer to them when they are thinner. In meetings, even senior managers notice that their opinions, rather ironically, carry more weight if they come from a slimmer form. But these are not unique cases born out of family dysfunction or crippling shyness. They are the norm for people who are taking a class of powerful pharmaceuticals called GLP-1s.
And these experiences are backed up by data and responses to a survey conducted by Simple Online Pharmacy, one of Britain’s biggest prescribers of GLP-1s, in 2024. Half of the GLP-1 users surveyed said they noticed peoples’ attitudes had improved toward them. One user said her mother had more respect for her, another said her partner was more interested in her, and another said she was invited to more parties and social events.
I often ask people who are taking these drugs: “Do you not find this really depressing?” “Do you now see the people in your inner circle as shallow?” The answer to both questions is a resounding yes. They say they always assumed that being thin carried benefits, but until they lived the life of a small person, they never really knew how much. They didn’t realize that being overweight meant their views counted less or that they would earn more money and be invited to more parties if they were thinner.
What these people fail to realize is that their newfound social status is in itself a privilege. The prices of these drugs are coming down, but they are still out of reach to less wealthy Americans who are more prone to obesity and its related health issues, such as diabetes. Overweight people are judged harshly on their inability to lose weight. Now those with financial resources can buy not only a cure to obesity but also a golden ticket into the privileged world of the thin and beautiful. As a result, the stigma of being overweight will increasingly align with socioeconomic status.
I came of age in the 1990s, when the media was particularly brutal about women’s bodies. In the early 2000s, that narrative began to change; body positivity came to the fore and offered women a more accepting and, dare I say, loving approach. But the advent of GLP-1s has crashed that love-in. For the people who are taking these drugs, they may finally enjoy the embrace of colleagues and friends, but they also can see, firsthand, just how shallow the world is.
Aimee Donnellan is a columnist at Reuters, where she covers the pharmaceutical, airline, and insurance industries
