Why I Love Weight Watchers
“Man is a being of self-made soul.” —Ayn Rand
My relationship with food, body and health is as unique and private as yours. This article is about my personal success as a Weight Watchers member. It’s not about Ozempic, counting calories and Oprah Winfrey. It’s not about competing methods. This report’s about my success and what can be yours.
The story of Weight Watchers begins in 1961. A New York City housewife, Jean Nidetch, had lost 20 pounds—the approximate weight I’ve lost on Weight Watchers since I enrolled—after participating in a government-sponsored weight loss program. Knowing she would need support to keep weight off, Nidetch figured that keeping company with people oriented to a similar goal could be an affirmative ritual.
Starting Weight Watchers in a Queens movie theater, Nidetch conceived of a new forum based on personal guidance and support. Think about this: Weight Watchers began with an individual’s effort to put herself foremost—self-care in today’s jargon—and practice what Ayn Rand insisted ought to be regarded as a new concept in egoism: “the virtue of selfishness.” Weight Watchers’ philosophy amounts to this.
If you’re serious about changing your relationship with food, the company’s motto, I recommend joining Weight Watchers. Like most issues about choosing, preparing, cooking, storing and eating food, losing weight, gaining and maintaining fitness and factors related to creating your ideal body—man is a “being of self-made soul,” as Rand wrote, and being includes one’s body and mind—Weight Watchers integrates the fundamental orientation to oneself with lessons and tools to practice good habits.
My pre-enrollment impression of Weight Watchers was benign. I knew one person who admitted to being a member. I’d judged Weight Watchers as anachronistic. I had tried and liked its frozen foods until they were discontinued. I admit that I’d figured the program was mostly intended for overweight or obese women. I was aware that Winfrey, often making a display of her attempts at weight loss, was affiliated with Weight Watchers. Being from Chicago, I’ve known that Winfrey lacks credibility, so I didn’t take her seriously as a credible advocate or reason not to be interested. Knowing that the media titan was involved diminished my impression of Weight Watchers. I regarded Winfrey as a fraud or charlatan back then. I do more so now.
As a Generation Xer, I was raised to eat fast and processed, sugared food such as McDonald’s, Hostess and Kellogg’s. Sugar was ubiquitous (it still is). Though I was not gluttonous, at times, I ate too much of what I liked whether it was pizza or cheeseburgers with fries. My body’s been relatively height-weight proportionate to varying degrees. At times, I was overweight. My primary problem was eating too much food with sugar and carbohydrates. There were other problems. Primarily, choosing large portions of food with carbs and sugar caused my being overweight. Drinking wine (loaded with sugar) exacerbated my being overweight.
Shortly after I turned 50, I decided to get serious about getting fit. In consultation with my doctor, I began to investigate adopting healthier habits. For the first time, I took sleep—a topic for another article—seriously, making sleep a top priority. At the same time, I was doing work for a mentor for whom I’d worked in various capacities—from menial tasks to talk radio production and writing—since the 1990s. I had known this gentleman for over 20 years. One of the tasks I performed was to drive him to and from his Weight Watchers coaching sessions. Upon one occasion, I arrived early to pick him up. Waiting in the reception area, I was able to observe him interacting with his coach and other members. I noticed that he was at once absorbed, curious, relaxed, engaged and motivated.
Over the years, I had periodically asked why he joined Weight Watchers. During this time, he’d provided consistent answers. Weight Watchers helps, he told me, keep him on track with food, weight and fitness goals. In retrospect, I understand the error I was making but, for a long time, I thought or asked why someone who’s fit and trim stays in Weight Watchers. The answer—that he’s fit because he’d joined Weight Watchers—was so simple it escaped me. Being in Weight Watchers these past several years, this is the most common response from friends and others when, if they compliment or inquire about my physique, weight or fitness, I tell them I’m in Weight Watchers. This—consistently expressed shock that someone who’s fit is enrolled in weight loss support—is a leading cultural indicator of today’s rampant irrationalism of suffering and others oriented do-harsh-exercise-or-diet-or-die-trying culture.
When a low-budget fitness center opened near my home several years ago, I joined. I knew that a Weight Watchers was located close to the fitness center, so I went in to inquire about membership. There was a deal to join. I joined that fall for a trial, setting my goal weight after consulting with my doctor and my WW coach. Within months, I achieved the goal. This required a serious lifestyle change, which was easier to practice than I’d figured. Best of all, I radically changed my habits, which I had not realized was a vital part of exactly what I wanted.
Encouraged by my success, which I credit to myself and to my coach, Adrienne, I lowered my goal by 10 pounds. Adrienne challenged me, suggesting I decrease the new goal by five pounds, which I did. I went with what Adrienne suggested and, give or take a few pounds, this has been my weight ever since, which qualified me for what Weight Watchers refers to as Lifetime status. I’m proud—pride is a virtue according to my philosophy—of the lifetime achievement. Lifetime is my highest personal and, incidentally, professional, standard of value.
This, too, is fundamentally philosophical; the cause of my success is Weight Watchers’ philosophy of egoism. Though Weight Watchers doesn’t put it this way, egoism drives the tracking and points-based success. Weight Watchers is not a diet—it’s not based on deprivation—and its ideal is to thrive with rational food, sleep, thought and fitness choices. CrossFit, Keto, Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, Atkins and others are dietetic, exhaustion-deprivation or rule-based approaches. Weight Watchers is the opposite—it’s a principled approach to cultivating your mind, body and health for a lifetime. From housewife origins to current techniques, Weight Watchers’ premise is practicing selfishness as a virtue. For various reasons, this ritualizing of good habits—encouraging the individual to adopt best practices for long-term health and longevity—leaves others in the dust.
Most fitness and weight loss programs foster suffering, pain, discomfort, deprivation, keeping up cosmetic appearances, chronic comparison to others through rowing, cycling or cultishness—anything but encouraging progress for one’s own sake. Suffer to get fit, stop eating—fast—or subject yourself to extreme measures, they urge, for the sake of community, earth or “the universe,” a supernatural being, others, comparative competition or, worse, because others do. Weight Watchers’ value proposition: do this for yourself. Or don’t.
According to a recent study by U.S. News & World Report, Weight Watchers is the best weight loss solution. The cited reason: tracking. Tracking what you eat matters. I know this firsthand. Practically, this is what differentiates Weight Watchers from competition. Emphasis on tracking—not denying—food and thinking about what, why, when, where, with whom and how you eat is paramount. Weight Watchers basically encourages you to eat what you want—with the caveat that it’s up to you—and to track how much you eat. Points per food are starting points but they coach you in how to choose, prepare and cook food with seasoning, condiments and nutrients. Support from other members who discuss their tips, tactics and struggles helps.
I attend a 30-minute meeting about once a week. Coaching encourages the individual to think of himself as a whole man, not as a means to the ends of others. This includes Weight Watchers. You don’t have to like others, including coaches and members. You don’t have to like their spokespersons, brand colors or the app. Overall, it’s excellent. Weight Watchers leadership is mixed. Winfrey, an affiliated celebrity who’s admitted she’s on drugs after various weight loss discrepancies, is a moral and philosophical wreck. A recent CEO who pushed drugs and technology at the expense of meetings, was awful. I don’t like certain aspects of the app, which can be a hassle. Coaching, too, can be improved.
Here is WW’s essence—in four ideals or guide points—to know before you join:
Put a priority on sleep
Be mindful
Eat in moderation or proportion
Exercise your body
As my coach, Adrienne, also offers virtual coaching within the app. A proprietary mobile device app offers food and points tracking and ties into other apps, such as Apple’s Fitness app. There’s a new AI component for picture taking of dishes to calculate points. The WW app contains recipes, tips, podcasting, support and a weight loss drug support program for eligible members.
Coach Adrienne is the best. Like anyone who’s perfect in her work, craft or practice, she’s fallible. Weight Watchers would do well to make Adrienne an executive-level leader to train other and new coaches, starting with me—being a Weight Watchers coach is one of my lifetime goals (I even applied a couple of years ago, was advanced and interviewed a few times, including via video conference from Pittsburgh during a work trip, though I was unable to commit to wider scale coaching).
My coach accounts for each member’s context as an individual, starting with herself. She’s realistic, generous with stories about her personal struggle with weight, and, most important, she trusts her judgment. Adrienne doesn’t just follow rules. To the other extreme, Adrienne thinks—thinking is WW’s starting point—for herself (again, WW’s ethics is essentially egoistic). The payoff? Adrienne exudes love for herself, as well as each member, food, fitness, mental toughness, tenderness and proper self-care. The self-confessed shopaholic tops this with a bone-dry sense of humor and makes members, including me, laugh—often out loud. Adrienne smiles and shines. But she’s rational first.
I’m proud to be a Weight Watchers member. Now you know why. Happy new year.