State Legislators Want To Call Your Kids Fat

Alicia Hansen

As if school weren't hard enough already. Kids have to worry about grades, tests, peer pressure, popularity and bullies. They get picked on for everything under the sun--for being too tall or too short, for wearing glasses or braces, for not being good at sports and, of course, for being fat. Once upon a time the cruel taunts of "fatso" endured by overweight children came only from other children. But now some adults want to join in--specifically, state legislators and, even worse, educators.

The Tennessee legislature is considering a bill that would require public schools to measure students’ Body Mass Index (BMI) and report it to parents on a “health report card.” BMI is calculated by dividing weight (in kg.) by height (in meters) squared. Originally touted as a more accurate obesity measurement than weight alone, the BMI has been widely criticized lately for not taking into account muscle mass. Since muscle is denser than fat, a physically fit person has a higher BMI than a sedentary person of the same weight. By BMI standards, many elite athletes are overweight. Nonetheless, some legislators believe BMI reports would help parents treat children’s weight problems at an early stage.

BMI accuracy problems aside, this proposal is a bad idea for several reasons. Most parents already know, based on doctor visits or observation, if their child has a weight problem. Also, a self-esteem-eroding preoccupation with weight is no healthier for children than obesity itself, especially with many teens developing eating disorders. Most important, the public schools would be overstepping their bounds; they are paid by taxpayers to teach children to read and write, not to monitor their weight.

A handful of other states, including Pennsylvania, New York and Texas, have considered similar bills. A Georgia state representative recently withdrew her proposal after angry parents flooded her office with phone calls and e-mails. Arkansas students already receive BMI report cards—at a cost to taxpayers of $1 million the first year.

These bills have far-reaching implications, not just for schoolchildren in a few states but for all Americans. Watching our waistline—and our neighbor’s—has become a national pastime. Contestants on TV reality shows vie to lose the most weight; a slew of diet books have hit the bestseller list and become part of water-cooler conversation; and the much-hyped documentary Super Size Me chronicled the weight gain of a man who ate nothing but McDonald’s food for a month. What used to be a personal medical matter has become a matter of public morality; you can almost hear a faint chorus of tsk-tsks anytime you set foot in a Ben and Jerry’s or Krispy Kreme store.

While the pursuit of a healthy weight is certainly prudent—after all, obesity can lead to serious health problems—the war on fat has recently taken a disturbing turn. A battle that used to be fought in the kitchen, the gym and the doctor’s office is now being waged in the courthouse, the legislature and the public schools.

This battle is taking place on multiple fronts. First, and perhaps most odious, are the lawsuits. In 2003 two teenagers unsuccessfully sued McDonald’s, blaming the restaurant for their obesity. A California attorney also went to court in an attempt to prevent children from buying Oreos. The federal government and 14 states, including Tennessee, have responded to the lawsuits by passing “Cheeseburger bills,” which protect the restaurant and food industry from liability for customers’ weight gain. The Tennessee legislature seems to be sending mixed messages: it advocates personal responsibility when it comes to food choices, but not when it comes to parenting.

The second weapon in the obesity battle is taxes. Governments have long used “sin taxes” to discourage consumption of products or activities considered harmful, such as alcohol, tobacco and gambling. Now food has joined the list of sinful items, with 17 states levying some sort of tax on junk food or soda.

Weight-obsessed legislators are also attempting to regulate the restaurant industry. Maine, Connecticut and Illinois are considering legislation that would require chain restaurants to list the calorie content of every item on the menu. Not only would this be a logistical nightmare for restaurants (especially for those that change menus frequently); it would also raise the price of a restaurant meal and set the stage for more lawsuits.

All of these attempts to regulate our food choices are fueled by a common assumption: that people are incapable of taking responsibility for their own health—or their children’s. Paternalistic regulations, lawsuits and taxes not only limit consumers' choices and insult their intelligence; they also punish the food industry for providing the goods consumers want.

Now that legislators are trying to replace parents in the kitchen, displaying your child’s report card on the refrigerator takes on a whole new meaning.