Feminism and the ‘Obesity Crisis’: Production, Autonomy and Health in a Society of Guilt

By Freya Turner

At Hay festival 2017, in a talk about food with Rosie Boycott, there was a Q&A to close the session and one woman stood up to ask, ‘do you think that feminism has led to the obesity crisis?’ I don’t know whether she asked this believing it or not; I couldn’t tell. The audience responded with a loud murmur and more laughter than I was expecting. I remember my own response clearly, my heart rate surged and a cold sweat formed across my upper lip and underarms as physical manifestations of my anger. After having some time to unravel my thoughts more methodically in response to this, here is my reply to this question.

Feminism gives us the opportunity to transform subjugation into a dignified lived experience for all people. As soon as someone asks whether this movement is responsible for a loss of health, and in this case, morality (more on this later), several things are implied which need to be broken down and addressed.

In this question, the ‘obesity crisis’ is code for ill health. However, is it? There is a reason why people aren’t asking whether poor health is linked to feminism, whereas obesity is. Obesity is a moral issue that we have transfixed on for years, whereas bad health and sickness more generally is removed from the notion of morality. Feminism is entrenched with morality, and women are discriminated against for an abstract lack of moral ‘pureness’. ‘Obesity’ is a visual phenomenon, and ill-health is most often not. Visual spectacle and archaic concepts of morality therefore, underlie the woman’s question.

In the UK, it often seems that we couldn’t think of anything more frightening than a fat person. It’s no wonder that the ‘headless fat person’ trope exists, because things that we are scared of are what we turn into spectacles. A fat woman? Even worse. Why? Because she threatens what others possess. Fat people, women, and fat women threaten our money and resources, or that’s what we’ve been led to believe. The notion of feminism is threatening because it entails women getting paid equally for the services that they provide, challenging cis male privilege. Feminism in practice would radically change the rules of supply and demand. For example, the Wimbledon Tennis Tournament this year justified patriarchal rationale for not having as many women’s matches on centre court; simply because less people wanted to watch women’s tennis. Thus, sexism was maintained because of a threat to a seemingly delicate monetary infrastructure.

Fat people are presented as a drain on our resources because they are wrongly labelled as lazy, unintelligent, selfish, weak-willed, and generally unable to physically and mentally ‘keep up’. The work they do will therefore be subpar and workforces cannot afford to use people like this. Fat people are a scapegoat for an epidemic of consumption, where they are targeted as individuals who suck up our resources and give nothing valuable back. The idea of homogenising women and obese people through their monetary value is unjustified and shameful. More lives, regardless of appearance or gender, would have human value and better health if these destructive concepts were eradicated. Fat people are unhealthy, but they are also healthy. Slim people are unhealthy, but they are also healthy.

Perhaps the woman’s question suggests the flawed, illogical idea that the fact that more women are in work is the reason why there is a rise in family’s consumption of convenience, i.e. unhealthy food. Ill health is not caused by more women just going to work and cooking a bit less (are men not capable of cooking family meals?). Poor health is the product of a neoliberal society that pushes the individual to believe that it is ok to juggle a lot more of both work and play. A life is not the responsibility of the state or society, but the individual. This framework has been both producer and product of zero-hour contracts, the gig economy, overtime, home-work, cuts to public sector care work, intensive unpaid emotional labour like childcare, and the unending connection to work life from the home through emails, online networking websites and general digitisation. These common practices perpetuate the idea that work and play are naturally intertwined, and that care work, and therefore typically feminine work, has little value.

These issues have arisen through what Donna Haraway called the feminisation of work, in A Cyborg Manifesto. But this is not feminism within work. This is a society where sporadic work practices push all genders to consume and produce more. We are made to feel as if we should always be doing more, where stress and anxiety becomes our lifestyle, thanks to work and leisure getting tangled up together.

It just so happens that more women feel the brunt of it; they earn less than their male equivalents, generally undertake more unpaid work in the home, and they will be more likely to feel the effects of a poorer quality of life due to cuts in the (predominantly female) healthcare sector. They are conditioned to invest their valuable time in ‘taking care’ of their appearance and, broadly speaking, will invest more in the health and wellbeing industry in order to escape and improve the reality of everyday life. Poorer health develops as a result; the individual has been encouraged to consume more products and produce, or do more, all whilst eating less. It is coined as the culture of bulimia; a culture shrouded in an irony that is deep rooted in guilt. It is this guilt which leads to unhealthy mental and physical conditions. Feminism is our opportunity for all genders to have autonomy, free of guilt, where care is enough, eating is eating, and not a moral statement or magical drug, and size does not equate to worth.

Some women cook, and some don’t. They certainly don’t belong in the kitchen. But until we rid our homes of ‘more simple times’ Cath Kidston prints, the Scandinavian wellbeing guides advising a return to the home, along with the clean eating books from our bookshelves, we’ve got a long way to go before society will change.

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About the Author

Freya is a recent English literature graduate from UEA, where she specialised in reading minority cultures, political writing, urbanisation, alongside being generally cynical about modern life. She has been curious about gender representations since a young teenager, and over the past year has experimented with writing to set out her thoughts on feminism and gender through monologue, poetry, short story, and a creative-critical style. She has recently enjoyed working in the arts, through a radio station and a national archive, publicising literary organisations and material. She is an advocate of Europe and urges students in higher education to study abroad.

A Compromise Approach to Abortion Rights in Northern Ireland

By Keeley Buckley

In a rapid turn of events, Labour MP Stella Creasy put forward an amendment in the UK Parliament, asking for Northern Irish women to be entitled to have abortions paid for by The National Health service in England.

Northern Ireland has strict laws surrounding abortion. In fact, it can only be legally performed if the pregnancy is deemed medically life-threatening to the mother. Many women travel to England in an attempt to seek a legal abortion. However, they have to pay for the procedure themselves – the cost is in the region of £900 (read more here).

Creasy’s amendment was actually pulled from Parliament before the vote could take place. She had received assurances from the Chancellor, Phillip Hammond and Secretary for Women, Justine Greening, that the matter was already in hand and that these women would now receive the care they need on the NHS.

The move was highly contentious, with strong feelings and debates playing out across social media, particularly in the Twittersphere.

While the scope of the abortion debate is wide and whilst we try to be an inclusive society that values everybody’s thoughts, abortions will always be primarily a women’s issue. Pregnancy is biologically, hormonally, emotionally, physically and socially a process that women have ownership of. The religious, social, moral and financial questions arising from the abortion debate are more often than not aimed primarily at women rather than men.

Is there a middle ground here that has been overlooked? Is it is time for all of us to look at abortion as a medical procedure and not a moral choice?

For instance, a foetus is viable from around 21 weeks. But, in England a legal abortion can be carried out up to 24 weeks. Some view this as inhumane, particularly pro-life activists. Though in contrast, the Northern Irish law-makers will not give a woman who has been the victim of incest and is now pregnant the option to terminate the pregnancy, despite the potential psychological damage. This is also inhumane and a situation that would for sure anger a pro-choice activist. Is the answer to negotiate with Northern Ireland by offering to lower the legal limit on abortion time in the rest of UK based on the viability of the foetus, asking Northern Ireland to match that law given that the abortion would not be terminating a viable life, thus rendering the religious and moral standpoints irrelevant?

It wouldn’t please everyone, and there would still be various arguments such as the potential father’s rights. But it at least offers one sensible solution. If medicine were to dictate if a procedure would be psychologically or biologically necessary for the mother or the foetus, then the termination could go ahead across the whole of the United Kingdom using NHS funds. Within the time constraints it would not end a viable life and would still give the woman the time to make her choice.  Crucially, it would avoid women having to make the journey from Northern Ireland to England.

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About the Author

Keeley a woman with an everyday job, mother, wife. Politically in the centre, hoping to influence a way of thinking that is equal for all.