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One of the most common questions that I get about thin privilege, by far, is whether or not thinness really counts as a “privilege.”

After all, if anyone could potentially achieve thinness, then is it really an issue of social power? And if folks have put a lot of effort into attaining and maintaining that body, don’t they deserve the associated rewards?

And I get where this question comes from. Because oftentimes, when we talk about privilege, we note that it’s something undeserving that’s granted to you based on birth or circumstances.

And a lot of that time, that’s true. I can’t change the fact that I’m white or that my parents grew up working class, for instance. That’s just a part of my social location by default – that’s the situation that I was born into.

But when we name power and oppression, as doled out by systems, as things that are largely out of our control, it can be confusing to think through how something we believe we can “work for” fits into that narrative.

The answer to how this is associated with privilege, though, is in the question itself. It’s just hiding from you.

Because within the very question of whether or not attained and maintained thinness really “counts” as privilege are assertions that 1) we’re all starting from the same place, 2) our bodies are malleable, and 3) some bodies are more inherently deserving of respect than others.

And I call BS on all of that.

So here’s why.

1. The Bootstraps Myth Is Bullshit

Most often, this argument of being able to “work for” success is applied to class: that if you just work hard enough, you can pull yourself up out of poverty. On a social level, we’ve bought into the myth that if you’re poor, it’s your own fault for “not working hard enough.”

On the flipside, we believe that if you’re rich (or go to a “good” school or have a “good” job), you deserve it because you poured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into it.

Now, this isn’t to say that you didn’t pour blood, sweat, and tears into your achievements – just that those aren’t the only (albeit gross) ingredients to your success. This idea – that all we have to do is work hard to achieve what society deems as “greatness” – is a product of a capitalist system that values productivity above all else.

And that’s why we call this idea “the bootstraps myth.” You can read more about it here, but the basic idea is this:

If you’re productive, you win. The harder you work, the more you earn, whether that’s financial or social power or something else. And anything you’ve earned is well deserved.

But in reality, the bootstraps myth is used to shame poor and working class people who, for various complicated reasons, actually cannot achieve the kind of mobility that the myth promises. The myth, in reality, is just a dangling carrot. It entices you to put all of your effort into moving forward when, in truth, you’re staying still.

But because we have a few rags-to-riches stories, we continue to tell poor and working class people, “If so-and-so did it, so can you!” We say, “If you want to have money so badly, you just need to work harder! I worked my ass off, and that’s why I have these privileges – because I earned them.”

But this narrative actually ignores the fact that there are multiple obstacles holding poor and working class people down, away from this picture of success. And this narrative also ignores the fact that people with this success didn’t face those same obstacles.

Did they have a hard time? Yeah! Working hard is no piece of cake. But there’s a difference between “I worked hard” and “I’m facing near-impossible obstacles.” This comic does a good job of illustrating that.

But in a capitalist system, we love these stories. We love believing that everyone has the same opportunities as everyone else, so long as they put the effort in to get what they “deserve.” These stories grab our attentions and pull at our heartstrings again and again and again. It’s literally the American dream!

And this exact same logic – yes, indeed, the bootstraps myth – is applied to conversations about thin privilege and fat oppression.

We say, “If you don’t want to be oppressed, why don’t you just lose weight? If life is so hard being fat, have you tried not being fat?” We say, “Society is only treating you horribly to motivate you to change your ways and become a more productive member of society!”

We say, “I earned my thin privilege through hard work and dedication. And so I deserve the benefits of my effort.” We say, “I’ve wielded control over my body, and that’s won me these privileges.” We say, “I deserve something for all of the sacrifice that it’s taken me to create this body.”

And just like we love rags-to-riches stories, we loooove fat-to-thin stories. Why do you think The Biggest Loser is still on air, despite its being terrible? We’re desperately drawn to the idea that an underdog can win with a little effort.

But the problem here is the same as when the bootstraps myth is applied to class: We’re simply not taking the realities of the obstacles into account.

2. Our Bodies Actually Aren’t Projects

I know that this one is going to be hard to swallow, but I want you to stick with me for a second: Just like you’re born into situations that might allow you to make more money with less effort, you’re also born into a body with genetic predisposition.

There is some amount of “work” that we can put into our bodies. Our diets and fitness regimens play some role in our bodily aesthetics; they’re not entirely disconnected. But the common refrain about calories in and calories out simply isn’t the only equation at play when it comes to how our bodies look.

If I eat intuitively and move joyfully, I will remain around the same size and weight. It will naturally fluctuate, of course: I’m going to eat and rest more in the cold weather months, for example, and therefore gain weight to protect me against the northeastern freeze.

And there are things that I can do to change that – to lose or gain fat, to lose or gain muscle – but aside from unhealthy measures, there really isn’t much I can change significantly.

We want to believe that our bodies are incredibly malleable. We’ve been taught by society that we can constantly be “improving” our bodies, and that if we’re not, we must be lacking willpower. And we’re supposed to be embarrassed by that – of this supposed physical proof that we’re lazy.

But in reality, our bodies aren’t very malleable. In fact, they probably shouldn’t be. They’ve got millions of years of instinct wired through them. And me? Little old me? I’ve only been alive for 31 years. Honestly, what the fuck do I know?

We want to believe that we can control our bodies. But really, our bodies control us. They’re little ecosystems. They’re smarter than us. They want to do all they can to survive, “will power” be damned.

Even just psychologically speaking, this is obvious: Our instincts are controlled by our mid-brains; our decisions controlled by our frontal lobe. And guess which is going to override which every. single. time.