Reactions to the finale of the latest season of “The Biggest Loser” seem to fall into two general categories:
1) Rachel Frederickson, who shed more than half of her body weight to win the competition and take home $250,000, looks fabulous and deserved the prize for her hard work.
2) Rachel lost too much weight too rapidly and is a prime example of everything that’s toxic about how Americans view food behavior and entertainment.
Amid all the chatter, not to mention the snark, that has swirled around the show for the past several days, there’s one point that seems worthy of extended, thoughtful public discussion: What are the ethics of creating competition around people’s health?
Treating individual health as fodder for a contest is by no means confined to “The Biggest Loser.” Corporate and community initiatives abound that pit individuals and teams against each other to see who can lose the most weight, walk the most steps, exercise the most hours and so on. The popularity of “The Biggest Loser” has spawned imitation contests in workplaces, neighborhoods and even churches.
What’s the harm, as long as it helps motivate people to change their behavior? Well, not so fast.
The competitive approach may be successful for some, and it may inspire many on-the-fencers to become more engaged. For a story last year on corporate wellness trends, the Washington Post talked to an office worker from Maryland who joined a corporate fitness challenge and lost 42 pounds. “There’s sort of like a peer pressure and a competitiveness to it,” Sal Alvarez told the Post, adding that he found it very motivating.
Not everyone responds well to competition, however, and some people may even find it alienating, especially if they feel coerced to participate.
Although there are plenty of positive stories about how wellness challenges have helped people change their lives, there’s surprisingly little solid evidence of competition’s overall effectiveness as a health improvement strategy. More importantly, it’s not clear whether competition leads to behavior change that’s sustained after the contest is over.
Then there’s the matter of prizes. Are people motivated by the prospect of T-shirts, water bottles and gift cards? Do they need carrots to entice them to take action or is it better to emphasize good health as the reward? What if the carrot is really, really significant, such as the quarter of a million dollars dangled before the Biggest Loser contestants?
With that amount of money at stake, along with a chance to be on national TV and impress their family and friends, it shouldn’t be surprising that the participants in the show would become uber-competitive, possibly to the point of going overboard.
In a recent interview with People magazine, Rachel herself conceded that she “maybe” was “a little too enthusiastic in my training to get to the finale.”
Maybe competition is OK, as long as it helps people accomplish their health goals. Then again, maybe it exploits people’s vulnerabilities and propels them into doing something perhaps the wrong way or for the wrong reasons. Does the end justify the means? That’s the moral question that hasn’t really been answered.