Workplace Food Police

When I was in college, I had a co-op position at a local engineering firm where I worked in their marketing department. The head of the department was a large, loud man who generally rubbed me the wrong way. But there was one day of that 6-month job that still stands out to me, 20+ years later. Someone brought in donuts or something for the department and all of us, including him, gleefully enjoyed them. Though during our enjoyment, he turned to me and said something about how I shouldn’t enjoy them too much. I think he actually nudged me with his elbow to show that he was being kindly and just giving me good advice. I felt the shame wash over me as I looked down at my plate. I held back tears as I went back to my desk and looked loathingly at the food I had just been enjoying.

All of 20 years old at most, I had no idea how to deal with this food shaming by someone who was in power over me, much less an older man commenting on my body. Somehow, I found the courage to confront him about it later that day, no longer able to hold back my tears. His excuse was that he was just joking with me, in solidarity, because hey, he’s large, too, and he shouldn’t be eating that stuff either. It was a perfect experience of internalized fat hatred and misogyny rolled into one awful experience.

Today, I know better how to handle these kinds of things, but as this article in the Atlantic points out, workplace food policing is still an “acceptable” form of workplace bonding.

It’s not unusual for conversations about food to take place, especially when the only time coworkers often get a chance to socialize is during lunch. Noting what your fellow coworkers are eating, especially if it smells particularly good, is a normal human interaction. But it too often veers into commenting on one another’s diet and food choices, up to and including making judgements about the kinds of food they’re eating.

“I really ought to be eating a salad today because last night I was so tired that we just ordered some pizzas. I ate four whole pieces myself and now I feel totally bloated.”

How often have you heard a conversation starter like that as the same person eats a slice of leftover pizza in front of you? Moreover, how often has that conversation then devolved into rounds and rounds of self-deprecating commiseration over their own poor food choices or lack of exercise? It’s practically inescapable on a normal day, but then there’s the dreaded “workplace health challenge.” Then these conversations are completely unavoidable.

My current workplace has the “Chubber Club,” an annual weight-loss challenge that takes place in the new year to shed the holiday weight after all that indulgence. The best thing I can say about it is that the weigh-ins are done in private and only the people who choose to participate get the updates/information/etc. But you can always tell who is involved because everyone is suddenly talking about “what they are doing” to lose the weight and “win.” Oh, and the scale is in a prominent public area that also holds our snacks, just in case you might want to check your weight before you decide what to eat.

It’s so disheartening to come up against it every year, especially when I’m trying to fight my own body-positive fight from my tiny little corner of the office. I don’t think the conversations about food and diet are ever going away, but if we can all recognize some of the basic facts, I think we can keep these conversations from being toxic:

Weight is not an indicator of health
Weight loss is not always desirable or an indicator of good health (see those with eating disorders or extreme health issues)
Fat shaming is harmful to fat people’s health
Disordered eating is widespread and dangerous (in fact, it’s possible we don’t even know how widespread disordered eating actually is)

The most important thing that everyone can do—coworkers, friends, family, everyone—is mind your damn business. If you can’t do that, at least be kind. You might not know what someone is struggling with on any given day.