The overweight deserve help, not sneers or malice

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/jul/13/overweight-people-help-malice-gastric-bands-nhs

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Some people are said to be emotional overeaters, in that they "eat their emotions" in the form of food, to comfort themselves in times of stress, and this is why they gain weight. This link between fat and emotions (the underlying psychological causes of overeating) has long been cited as a major force in understanding obesity and no one is arguing with that.

However, just as some fat people have a problem with being too emotional about food, perhaps others have their own problem being too emotional about fat people.

Why do people rage against the obese so much? Why does the sight, or even the mere thought, of the obese excite such venom, disgust and outright cruelty? The National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (Nice) has just announced that it is considering lowering the BMI threshold for people with newly diagnosed type 2 diabetes for assessment and referral for bariatric (stomach-reducing) surgery. If this goes ahead, it could mean more than 800,000 additional people qualifying for possible gastric bands or similar treatments.

Perhaps some people out there right now are gearing up to the standard reaction, along the lines of: "Lazy, unmotivated lardarses getting mollycoddled by the state after they've stuffed their faces and not exercised. Why should the state pay for that?"

No mention of how losing weight (and avoiding maladies) through such surgery could save the NHS millions and therefore be classed as relatively cost-effective. Nor any reference to the fact that by the time any of the additional 800,000 reach the point of requiring surgery, it would be a desperate last resort, with all other avenues exhausted.

It doesn't even make sense to rail against attempts to combat obesity. In the west, this is our generation's prime health problem – it would be illogical not to try to deal with it. At other points in human history, there have been other mass health scares (cholera, smallpox, typhus) that also needed to be dealt with. The prime difference is that, here in the 21st century, fat can get very emotional – and not just for those who are fat.

Perhaps this explains the spiteful, judgmental streak that comes out in some people, where anything that might make an obese person's weight loss easier or faster is automatically rubbished and undermined. The rationale is that, unless someone lost the weight themselves, and panted, sweated and suffered to do so, it's not true weight loss and it's not "deserved".

This is how some people seem to view the overweight – wanting to push them into a relentless, almost biblical cycle of ridicule and disgust, followed by punishment and retribution and finally, if they're very fortunate, forgiveness and absolution. Perhaps in the form of the holy grail of a weight loss spread in a magazine or newspaper? It's as if overweight people need to be first punished, then forgiven by society for their physical state.

So it is with these new proposals regarding bariatric surgery. Where do people get off being angry about this – pondering whether they agree with it, as if somehow an obese person's right to health is debatable, rather than a given?

It's interesting to watch the spite and judgment building towards unknown obese people of the future. Just as the obese are deemed to be out of control around food, so are some people becoming out of control in terms of their malice towards obese people. Ironically, it could be that people with weight problems are forced to be calm and grounded; it's others around them who get emotional and panicky about fat.

Perhaps it's time for those who automatically condemn plans to help the obese to take a good look at themselves. It could be that some of their own feelings might be better off "eaten".

Waltzing Matilda or Matthew. It's all strictly fine

The British Dance Council is proposing a new rule that would define a partnership as "one man, one lady", restricting same-sex couples to same-sex-only categories, effectively barring them from mainstream competition.

I smell with my little nose peevish self-doubting straights: were same-sex couples considered fine until they started getting good and winning trophies? If audiences expect to see traditional male and female partnerships, then surely it would do us all good to have our preconceptions shaken up? As for experts and judges, shouldn't they be appraising prowess, not obsessing over secondary sexual characteristics?

Ballroom dancing seems the oddest of environments to get rigidly heterosexual. They'll be getting rid of the spangles next. All the male performers will become cartoon "blokes", start scratching their crotches during the pasa doble and dropping the women on the floor during the tango, yelling: "That's your lot, the football's started!"

This just won't do. As the new series of Strictly Come Dancing boasts Tess Daly and Claudia Winkleman as a same-sex presenting team, perhaps they could also get a same-sex couple among the contestants?

Moderation is vastly overrated

Moderate drinkers are going to have to stop being so smug. A study says that even moderate drinking can be bad for the heart. This goes against previous studies, which suggested that moderate drinking could be protective of the heart. Well, it serves moderate drinkers right. The "one glass of wine a night" crowd are complete pains, always showing off about how civilised and sophisticated they are. All that savouring their drinks, inhaling bouquets, admiring vintages, being all classy and evolved. Who do they think they are?

I say this as someone who has become a one-glass-of-wine-a-night drinker. Admittedly, the glass is getting bigger – some might call them vases. Refillable vases. However, give or take the odd cheeky top-up, here I am in the one-glass-of-wine-a-night zone. How did that happen?

In my defence, this has nothing to do with delusions of sophistication (though it would be about time). It's just that I can't drink like I used to, because I will surely die. As well as not being able to drink immoderately any more, I can't hack the big, filthy hangovers either. My hangovers had become a combination of Chernobyl of the eyeballs, Pearl Harbor of the gut, speaking in tongues and begging for death. According to witnesses, not my best look, astonishingly.

So, with surly resentment, and no grace whatsoever, I joined the one-glass-of-wine club. On the plus side, I no longer clutch strangers in the street, whispering:"Dear God, help me" during hangovers. However, according to this study, there are naff-all health benefits, to hearts or any other organs. Is this what we signed up for – fellow one-glass-of-wine smuggers? Moderation is going to have to up its game.