Body Policing: The Use of Shame to Enforce Conformity

If you’re a fan of pop star and Wicked: For Good actor Ariana Grande, then you may have read a recent Instagram entry in which she addresses some of the unwanted attention she has received with the film’s release—attention centered not on the musical itself, but rather, on her body. An overwhelming percentage of comments on anything Wicked-related are heavily focused on her body. In particular, they commented that the star was “too thin,” that she was clearly demonstrating “signs of abuse,” or that she should “get help” for her “eating issues.” The comments are clear evidence of the fact that the vast majority of keyboard warriors see themselves as doctors, clinical dietitians, and psychologists. We are all free, it seems, to comment on others’ health and bodies, regardless of the impact to their actual health and well-being. Grande herself felt compelled to publish the following message: “There’s a [sic] comfortability that people have commenting on that, that I think is really dangerous. I think that I’m really lucky to have the support system that I have… But I do know what the pressure of that noise feels like. It’s been a resident in my life since I was 17, and I just don’t invite it in anymore. It’s not welcome.”

Where Freedom of Speech and Shame Intersect

The topic of body-shaming—particularly “fat shaming”—has been a hot media topic for the past couple of decades. Starting in the 1990s, the Body Positivity and Healthy at Every Size movements gained traction, promoting the acceptance of all body types. However, as Free the People creative director Sam Martin notes, the movement may be shooting itself in the foot in its attempts to equate fat phobia with many serious prejudices based on immutable characteristics such as racism, sexism, and homophobia. This is because many individuals in this movement seek to classify diet and nutrition as social justice rather than scientific issues. As such, it steers us away from what is arguably the most helpful approach—that of studying the psychological and physiological problems that make obesity such a difficult obstacle to overcome for so many. It stops those in need from understanding how losing fat rather than just weight can seriously reduce their risk of heart disease, diabetes, and many other chronic illnesses. In Martin’s view, fat activism “places the blame on society for not accepting and celebrating health at every size.” As such, it encourages people to reject the fact that obesity is a serious health problem.

Shaming Thinness

Grande’s situation demonstrates how a culture that is shaped by body-positivity rhetoric can end up reinforcing the very policing it deems so dangerous. If weight is a social or political issue, then bodies become symbols of ideological beliefs, and people assume that a person’s size says something about their values. In this case, for many, Grande has become a symbol of diet culture, of an individual who willingly rejects the idea of body positivity. And that means that it’s “okay” to judge her body. Ironically, the body positivity movement purports to stop us from judging others’ bodies. Yet because the movement focuses so strongly on body shape and exclusively celebrates specific body shapes, judging others’ bodies (including those deemed “too thin”) has become commonplace on social media and in our everyday interactions.

Finding a Sense of Balance

How, then, do we reconcile a wish to further human health, without embracing what Grande refers to as a “comfortability” with diagnosing or blatantly shaming others online? One could argue that the answer lies in reminding ourselves that we are dealing with real people with real lives. Our bodies are not free fodder for others to use in making political or moral statements. In the end, we must turn to science and think about the repercussions of our statements before making them. In the case of Grande, for instance, her apparent weight loss could be attributable to a host of factors we are unaware of. To assume either illness or an eating disorder, then police her based on our assumptions, is undoubtedly a dangerous pursuit. At the very least, thinking about the potential repercussions of our words is vital, since the very things we defend or criticize could end up worsening both public health outcomes related to obesity and eating disorders.

The body-activism movement has shown that, in many ways, it can cause more harm than good to the health of those who are overweight or obese. It is a wake-up call to the importance of viewing obesity from a scientific rather than a sociological or political perspective. It also reminds us that criticizing those who do not conform to one’s ideal shape can further the very conditions we so recklessly diagnose (if they actually exist, that is), including potentially life-threatening eating disorders.