Lena Dunham Thinks America Is Fatphobic. Reality Disagrees.

Lena Dunham recently declared that we live in a "deeply fatphobic, misogynistic, racist, and ageist" culture. I think she's wrong on every count, but the "fatphobia" claim is particularly tone-deaf. America fatphobic? That’s like saying Las Vegas is money-phobic.

We are, by every metric, medical, social, and economic, the most "fat-affirming" society that’s ever existed. So much so that we managed to turn a literal public health crisis into a self-love movement with linguistic manipulation, multi-million dollar campaigns, and influencers who normalize lifestyles that increase risk for heart disease, diabetes, infertility, joint damage, and dozens of other serious conditions.

And we’ve successfully made any acknowledgment of those realities "offensive."

The Most Fat-Affirming Culture in Human History

We now live in a country where you can be demonized for simply suggesting that weight loss might actually improve someone's quality of life. Meanwhile, real people are being harmed by the lie that health is just a social construct, and beauty is whatever we decide it is today.

Lena Dunham is a prime example of this disconnect. Once praised (and critiqued) for her unfiltered portrayal of millennial women in Girls, a show that was often surprisingly self-aware about the ways young women distort reality to protect their egos or justify their behavior, Dunham now seems unaware that she’s doing just that.

Despite a well-documented history of health problems, weight gain, and public controversies, she’s doubled down on the idea that any discomfort with obesity is simply bigotry, nothing more. Ironically, if we didn’t live in such a fat-affirming society that turns every health concern into a social grievance, she would probably be able to recognize the contradiction in her own thinking.

For those a little more grounded, we see that the cultural gaslighting we’re up against is fierce. If someone does dare challenge the tenets of body positivity, a "Be Kind" mob quickly materializes to accuse them of promoting disordered eating, or of being a "pick-me" handmaiden of the patriarchy. If that doesn't work, they pretend like it's still 1997, and we all have Kate Moss taped to our mirrors.

By now, we've all already acknowledged that America briefly glamorized an unhealthy ideal, but that’s not remotely where we are anymore. Now, we’re dealing with an unprecedented cultural swing in the other direction, with Cosmopolitan putting a morbidly obese woman on its cover with the headline, “This Is Healthy!”

This is today's uncharted territory, and it has left millions of Americans, particularly women, refusing to distinguish healthy bodies from clearly unhealthy ones.

Being Fat in America is Normal

If America were truly fatphobic, our population wouldn’t look the way it does. More than 70% of American adults are overweight, and over 42% are classified as obese. Among children and teens, the numbers are climbing, too, with nearly 1 in 5 U.S. kids now obese, according to the CDC. These rates cut across race and sex: obesity affects black and Hispanic communities at the highest rates, but no demographic is immune. And while men technically edge out women in obesity statistics, women are more likely to suffer both the physical and emotional consequences, thanks in part to hormonal fluctuations and the cumulative effects of chronic stress and limited healthcare.

What makes America’s relationship with obesity even more revealing is how rare it is globally. In many parts of the world, being overweight, let alone obese, is simply not an option. People don’t have the ability to consume more calories than they use because food is scarcer, and physical activity is built into daily life. So when Dunham suggests that fat people are somehow oppressed, she’s ignoring the reality that in many places, consistent overeating is a privilege that signals extreme excess, not marginalization.

But even in wealthy nations like Japan, South Korea, and much of Europe, obesity rates are dramatically lower than in the U.S. That's probably because these countries don’t treat obesity as a civil rights identity or a personality trait. Instead, they recognize it as a health problem, and culturally, it’s still seen that way. And the results speak for themselves.

For example, Japan’s obesity rate is around 4.5% compared to over 42% in the United States. There are literal stores named “Fat Man,” not as body-positive havens, but as funny novelty shops. Viral TikTok videos show Americans shocked by how blunt signage and public commentary about weight are in parts of Asia. And while it may seem harsh by our standards, the stigma appears to function as a kind of cultural immune system: it stops the obesity crisis before it starts.

But one thing Dunham and I might actually agree on is that cruelty toward fat people, especially children, is very real, and it's wrong. Kids don’t control what’s in their pantry or on their plate, so it’s heartbreaking when children are bullied for their weight, especially when many of them carry that shame into adulthood. There’s no excuse for that kind of treatment, but being cruel and telling the truth are not the same thing.

Broken System, False Narrative

The reality is that many Americans are struggling within a system that floods our grocery stores with ultra-processed foods, dyes, seed oils, and addictive additives, while offering very little in the way of education or accountability, even from our healthcare professionals.

Many doctors, especially in women’s healthcare, routinely prescribe birth control to mask hormonal issues without warning patients about the downstream effects on weight, mood, and metabolism. And I'm not someone who demonizes all doctors because I realize that many turn to prescriptions because their patients won’t change their habits, but that doesn’t make the situation any less dysfunctional.

It’s not fair or accurate to reduce America’s growing weight problem to a simple lack of willpower, as some of Dunham's other critics are doing. There are real obstacles and compounding factors that should be changed. But it’s equally unfair and dangerous to act like being fat is something we should all accept as normal and good. In trying to stamp out “fatphobia,” we’ve effectively muzzled an entire population from telling the truth that being overweight is objectively harmful.

Why Doesn’t Body Positivity Work?

Because deep down, we all know that being overweight signals a lack of health, and health is universally desirable. It also affects everything: your energy, fertility, skin, sleep, mood, hormones, etc. But beyond that, it plays a major role in your social capital, whether you’re trying to attract a spouse, earn professional opportunities, or simply feel confident in your own skin. No matter how much postmodern theory or pop feminism tries to reframe it, your body reflects your habits, for better or worse.

And while not all bodies will look the same, nor should they, there is a distinction between a body that’s being cared for and a body that’s chronically overfed and under-moved. That’s why the body positivity movement, in its current form, doesn’t work, because it asks people to deny what we intuitively, biologically know to be true: that health is attractive, and it matters.

If you need further proof that America isn’t fatphobic, just look at the rise of Ozempic. As soon as a quick, medically-approved way to lose weight hit the market, people who had built entire brands on “body acceptance” rushed to get their hands on it. Influencers who once preached “health at every size” started quietly losing 20, 30, even 50 pounds, and returning to social media with dramatic before-and-after photos. But instead of being praised for losing the weight, many of them were suddenly criticized for no longer being fat. That’s how backwards the conversation has become. It’s not being overweight that gets you shamed, it’s wanting not to be.

Despite all the slogans and hashtags, when people are offered the chance to lose weight, with or without medication, they usually take it. Is that hypocritical? A little bit. But it’s also human. Because no matter how much we try to convince ourselves otherwise, people know that not being overweight feels better and looks better.

The Standards Are Gone, and We’re Suffering for It

The real problem is that we no longer believe in standards. Everything is beautiful. Everything is valid. Everything is someone else’s truth. But your body doesn’t care about "your truth" because it runs on biology, not vibes. When your body is overfed, under-exercised, hormonally out of whack, and stressed, it lets you know. No amount of “you’re perfect as you are” rhetoric can silence the signals.

Human flourishing always requires some boundaries and limits, and those are discerned by those who want the truth. And that’s what so much of the current “body positivity” movement refuses to offer. Instead, it offers warm fuzzies and victimhood while quietly watching the obesity rate climb.

The conversation we should be having isn’t “Should fat people be treated badly?” (No.) It’s “Why are we pretending that all bodies function the same, regardless of health status?”

When someone truly loves you and sees that you're struggling, they don’t say, “Don’t change a thing.”
They say, “You can change this.” You can feel better. You can grow stronger. You can become more beautiful and confident.

And yes, that looks different for every woman. Some of us carry more weight than others naturally. Some of us have hormonal conditions. Some of us just had babies. But pretending that being overweight or obese is as healthy or desirable as being at a healthy weight is simply delusional.

America isn’t fatphobic. America is way too comfortable being fat. So comfortable that we’ve made telling the truth feel taboo. But the truth is what so many people need to hear to take back their health and happiness.