Why We're All Just 'Big-Boned' Now: The Sneaky Normalization of Obesity in America
Unpacking the Data & Culture Behind Our Growing Acceptance of a Growing Problem, "That's normal, y'all. Pass the fries."
Walk into any American airport today and pause. Look around at the travelers waiting at the gate, the families queuing for fast food, and the crowds rushing past. You are looking at a country that our grandparents would not recognize. In less than three generations, the very shape of the American body has shifted so dramatically that what would once have been regarded as rare or concerning is now routine. Airplane seats have been widened, retail clothing racks have been extended, mannequins have been reshaped, and soda cups have been enlarged. Entire industries have recalibrated to accommodate a physiology that is neither healthy nor sustainable.
From school lunches that consider ketchup a “vegetable” to the endless parade of fast-food drive-thrus, it's everywhere. Today, I want to dig into why obesity is getting normalized in our culture—backed by some solid reads from folks who know their stuff—and chat about what that means for us.
The Numbers Don't Lie: A Generational Gut Check
Back in the 1960s, obesity rates for American adults hovered around 13%—that's when the average guy tipped the scales at 166 pounds and gals at 140.[1] Fast-forward to today, and we're staring down over 40% of adults classified as obese, with kids aged 2-19 clocking in at nearly 20%.[8] That's not a blip; that's a ballooning crisis. In 2017-2020 alone, adult rates jumped from 30.5% in 1999-2000 to 41.9%,[2] and it's hitting our communities hard. Here in Georgia, we're not immune—states like ours are right in the thick of it, with rural spots seeing even higher numbers.[5]
Now, zoom in on the kids. One in six American children is obese, and it's worse for our Hispanic and Black families—26% and 25% respectively, compared to 17% for white kids.[5] As someone who's navigated parenting with a chronic condition, I can't help but think of my boys friends scarfing down Lunchables and pizza rolls like it's going out of style. The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation's got the receipts: processed junk is the staple, with screen time piling on top—kids glued to devices for four to eight hours a day.[3] And the cost? We're talking $173 billion a year in medical bills, with obese folks shelling out nearly $1,900 more annually than their slimmer counterparts.[8] That's not pocket change; that's a hit to every family's wallet and our community's health.
But these aren't just numbers on a chart. They're lives shortened by up to 14 years for the severely obese, rivaling the toll of smoking.[7] Type 2 diabetes, heart disease, even some cancers—it's all linked. And yet, we're pretending it's no big deal.
The Food Trap: When Cheap Eats Win the Day
Genetics or some mysterious curse are not to blame; it's our environment. Since the 1970s, we've jacked up our daily calories by 23%, averaging 2,481 a day, with half coming from flour and grains.[2] Blame the Ultra-Processed Foods (UPFs)—think sugary cereals, fast-food fries, and those sneaky sodas. Per capita sugar intake skyrocketed from 124 pounds in 1978 to 154 in 1997, thanks to cheap sweeteners and Farm Bill subsidies that flooded the market with corn syrup.[2]
Portions? They've supersized too. A muffin that used to be 1.5 ounces is now 5, and we're eating out more—energy from restaurant chow doubled from 9% in the late '70s to 21% by the mid-'90s.[2] Add in sedentary jobs (we burn 100 fewer calories a day at work than in 1960[1]) and boom—weight gain on autopilot. Globalization plays a part too, but it's more about our "modernization": higher GDP means more processed grub, less home cooking.[6]
In Cherokee County, it's the same story. Drive down Hwy 92 or Hwy 20, and you're bombarded with golden arches and drive-thru deals that make healthy eats at the local market feel like a splurge. Low-income families get hit hardest—fewer bucks for fresh produce, more for the cheap calories that keep you coming back. And the marketing? Big Food drops $8 billion a year on ads, zeroing in on kids of color with junk food come-ons.[5] It's a trap, y'all, designed to keep us hooked.
Culture's Curve: From 'Healthy' Plump to Plus-Size Pride
Now, here's where it gets personal and a tad uncomfortable: the cultural slide into calling obesity "normal." Remember when "husky" was a polite nudge? These days, it's "body positivity" and plus-size mannequins at Nike and Victoria's Secret—marketed as "inclusivity," but really just chasing sales.[1] Airplane seats wider, clothing racks extended, even soda cups supersized to match our middles. It's like society's saying, "Hey, if everyone's in the same boat, why rock it?"
Cultural preferences play in too. In some African American and Latino communities, a fuller figure signals health and prosperity—moms feeding kids extra 'cause plump means thriving.[5] Acculturation amps it up: immigrant families adopt our soda-swilling ways, ditching veggies for the third generation.[5] Harvard nails it: our food environment's "toxic," laced with hyperpalatable junk that overrides your brain's "full" signal.[7] And the 1970s low-fat craze? It backfired, swapping fats for carbs and processed carbs at that, piling on the pounds.[2]
But normalization ain't compassion—it's "cultural anesthesia," numbing us to the risks.[1] We're celebrating what shortens lives, all while health costs bankrupt us.
My unCommon Sense
Having Type 1 means I'm insulin-dependent for life, but I've learned personal responsibility keeps me kicking. That's my stance: love the person, but denormalize the acceptance of the disease. Obesity's a complex beast—stress, access, lifestyle, and maybe genes—but we can't pretend it's harmless. It's killing us softly, with comorbidities like diabetes (up 33% in Black youth[5]) and heart woes draining our days.
We need balance: policies like soda taxes (working in seven cities [7]) and school junk bans, plus community nudges—walkable trails throughout the county, farm-fresh markets on the weekends. Education over shame: teach kids in High School that ultra processed foods are 57% of our calories, not destiny.[7] And for us adults? Smaller plates, more steps, less scrolling. It's freedom—choosing health without the guilt.
Obesity's normalization is comfy, but it's a collapse in slow motion. From the data to the drive-thrus, it's clear: we've got the power to shift this. Start small, swap a Coke for water, rally the School Systems for better lunches, chat with your doc without the stigma. Common sense says respect every body, but fight for healthier ones.
What do you think—is body positivity helping or hurting? Drop your thoughts below, or hit reply. Let's talk.
If you want to chat about this or anything else, send me an email at dan@thrailkill.us, and let’s grab coffee or a beer.
Have a good one,
Dan