#maybe it would never make a profit

[glacierruler]

Yeah,,, I don't trust Tumblr's opt out thing, especially if it's on the honor system I swear

So I'll be on bluesky and ko-fi with the rest of my art. Both are free to follow.

I'll still be here, and I'll update you all on when art is posted on the other sites, and I'll still write on here. I'm not leaving, I refuse to leave, but I definitely won't be posting my art here.

Bluesky is similar to tumblr in the fact that it doesn't really have an algorithm, there are feeds that can work like algorithms, but those are run by people and you pin them to your dash.

[tenderjock]

i do think the most interesting interpretation of btvs lore is that non-vampire demons and mystical entities ALL have souls, unless they sold, destroyed or otherwise got rid of them (like the mayor)

[dreadintrusion]

If they make a Halo reboot I will actually go nuclear

EDIT: just rumours! So we can breathe easy

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

Garak in "Second Skin": I will NEVER sacrifice myself for you people I will ALWAYS selfishly save my own life that is a PROMISE

Garak in "The Search, Part II", three episodes earlier: [sacrifices himself for these people even when he could have selfishly saved his own life]

[bandzboy]

i will say this tho… the reason why most kpop groups don’t come to europe is because in comparison to maybe the usa, the market for kpop music there is better than in europe and also since companies nowadays are obsessed with making groups international (promoting them in the us basically) they know it’s easy money over there honestly that’s what i think

[strongfuck]

Whats your headcanon about rhys tattoos bytheway? Or is there a canon explination I had not heard about yet? :0

we know that rhys had the neck tattoo by the time of tales of the borderlands, and the character designers have stated that it was meant to represent that despite rhys wanting to conform to hyperion standards, he was "also more than a typical hyperion cog"

(from the gearbox rhys cosplay guide)

so in my mind it's a nice little metaphor for his futile struggle in trying to be the perfect hyperion company man-- no matter what he does, he can't get rid of who he is. it's also a tattoo that he designed himself, in my mind, because i have this personal headcanon that art is one of the few hobbies he has that he doesn't monetise or try to monetise. how else do you express yourself in an environment meant to stifle everything about you so you belong to the normal majority?

as for his torso tattoos, this is the concept art of rhys shirtless:

and while he has his hyperion data slicer and his hyperion trousers in this concept, in my mind he only has the twin suns done after the fall of helios as a reminder to himself of where he came from and all the death that he personally caused. i mean, the sun on his chest looks very much like a sun that is falling down -- because he sent helios crashing onto pandora. which makes it extra fucked up that there's a whole bandit cult worshiping him for that exact thing he has to live with for the rest of his life, lmao

really, the first personal thing rhys did for himself after making a new arm is design a tattoo at the height of his guilt and then find someone to get it done on him. unfortunately the ink covers parts that he can't reach with his own hand, so i can't say that he made it all by himself, hahaha. but if he could, then he would

[hiddenbeks]

u ever just. think abt ur warden and the decisions u made in dao and realize they would not make some of the decisions you made. and then u have to replay the game all over again just to do that one (1) thing differently

[firefly-fez]

hank and john i love u, ur doing amazing sweetie but do u have any idea how hard it is to sound professional and respectable when im emailing charities about the p4a. i am trying so hard to make this sound like a lucrative promitional opportunity and then i have to say ‘worldsuck’ with a straight face. like its a great term and it captures the impossible persistent reality of suffering and injustice like no other but. buddy. it dont exactly have a professional flair. i am trying to establish myself as a humanitarian advocate and honestly nerdfighteria is, like, a genuinely good foundation for that kind of advocacy and volunteerism but it’s a little like i am trying to build on an admittedly very sturdy steel frame that also happens to have a million little smiley face stickers all over it. like. this isn’t technically impeding me but i am concerned im going to raise some eyebrows.

[mollyjames]

Even in food service, there is the demand for exponential growth. Each store has a profit target you're expected to hit every quarter. Each quarter the target gets bigger and bigger. The only way to make sure you hit or exceed that target is to increase sales or cut costs. Sales can only go so far though, so at a certain point there is the understandable temptation (not justifiable, but understandable) for your manager to start cutting hours. Once they do, your location has entered a Death Spiral.

The thing about the Death Spiral is it is nearly impossible to escape. It starts innocuous enough, with a few hours getting shaved off every week. And true enough at first you probably didn't need those hours. They were the slack, the extra hands that helped distribute the work and made it easier on everyone. You might not even notice they're gone. Maybe the morning rush is a little harder to handle, maybe there isn't as much time to chat as there used to be. But on the whole nothing has changed. You're still hitting your sales quota and, hey, everyone seems to be working a little harder. That's good, right?

Then the next quarter rolls around. You exceeded your quota. Upper management is very excited. But now your new quota is even higher than it would have been if you had simply performed to expectations. You raise prices a bit, push more expensive drinks, and sure, cut a few more hours. Bit by bit the slack gets tighter. The fat gets trimmed. All because continual growth, continual improvement, is not just demanded, but expected.

The endgame of the Death Spiral is the expectation that every worker will operate at 100% efficacy 100% of of the time, and that nothing will go wrong ever. It never reaches this point, as any food service worker will tell you, shit goes wrong. Service gets worse, you lose a few customers, and you miss your quota. This is the point of no return, because the only way to solve the problem is to add more hours. But there's no way upper management will approve spending more money. On a failing store? Don't be ridiculous. Maybe get those numbers up and we'll consider adding hours back. But the only way to get those numbers up is with no hours. It's a Catch-22. You're trapped. Slowly, inevitably, the store fails, and then closes.

The Death Spiral is a doomed strategy, but it is the one corporations push in response to investor pressure. It tricks workers into more work for the promise of relief later, if they do well and succeed, not realizing they'll only be asked to do even more next time. So how do you fight it? Know your worth. Don't let anyone give you more work without some kind of kickback. Don't fool yourself into thinking that being indispensable will lead to a reward later.

But the best defense? Join a union.

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Do you have a Redbubble or inprnt or anything??? I’d LOVE to buy stickers of your art

Aw thank you sm 🥺

I don't but you can probably find someone selling my art as stickers on redbubble anyway, I already have lmao

[britneyshakespeare]

i have this disease that sometimes makes me lurk twitter for intriguing content. and i havent tweeted in two and a half years; i haven't directly interacted w content in that time either and i used to stay logged out entirely. but nowadays u cant lurk unless ur logged in w an account. and i dont do this on the regular basis; usually when i do lurk, it's for a specific subject (usually related to current events/discourse in pop culture) and its popularity dies down eventually like all trending topics do on twitter. that's how twitter runs after all; it's like a daily newspaper with actually no news just currently relevant small talk. but it's like big talk instead and almost everyone's out of pocket even the people you really like and respect a lot of the time. like that's it that's what twitter's supposed to be, the world's worst water cooler conversation with far too many people to uniquely respect and individualize. i hate twitter. i have this disease where i'm vulnerable to the frailties of human psychology

[theood]

I get why of course but I also really do not care about trying to force people to sign up for rewards and push donations on them and then also force app downloads all to match a quota/set number because some guy in the Big Office said so like. Not to sound like I'm old and hate technology but the fact I've now been on both sides of this 99% of the time I can guarantee you the customer wanted to get out of there 5 minutes ago and nobody likes doing this and if they REALLY wanted to join the rewards program they'd of done it on their own already.

Or.

They're old and ANOTHER app in their name and on their phone is just going to confuse them more. Where I am working now they STOPPED and or are stopping sending out physical coupons like. I don't know who you think your main customers are but not doing mail out coupons for people and or rewards members is making you lose a good chunk of your customers but okay

[silentwalrus1]

I like to think about what if the Kaminoans just, fucked all the way up and made the clones telepaths on purpose.

Kamino is in the Rishi maze, the equivalent of total buttfuck nowhere. This is like a cattle processing plant in rural Montana manufacturing an order for Shenzhen as outlined by a third party intermediary from Monaco who keeps contact with neither production nor “client” and nobody’s first language is Basic. Jedi are like, totally psychic right? Right. Psychic army for psychic clients, sounds right, checks out. There are whole ass telepathic alien species out there, some of which are also Jedi. Why would they want NON-psychic clones. Get it done, Tally Ho or Nala Says or whatever her name is. Chop chop.

Cue like seven years into production and the Kaminoan project leads are starting to get some… inklings…. that maybe some of the deliverable specs were perhaps not so much well-researched as based off cross-galactic hearsay some underpaid analysts pulled off space reddit. This is a business, okay? You’re not gonna make profit manufacturing two million units of fucking anything if you treat it like a luxury product, but especially not if the product has goddamn childhood development & socialization needs. Of fucking course some shit maybe slipped through the cracks. What are we supposed to fucking do now, Lama goddamn Sue sir, tell the Jedi or the pickled fucking Sith that oopsie woopsie, we got the specs wrong half a decade in and have to start over again?

No. No we are not. We are going to lie our fucking semi-aquatic asses off, is what we’re gonna do, and so will you clones if you know what’s good for you. NONE of you are fucking psychic, and you never were. Got that? Understood?

Fast forward to Jedi pickup D-Day and every time anyone with a lightsaber gets within aural biosystem of choice distance the clones immediately start loudly and dutifully Having Conversations.

Hello Commander Sir, It Is I, Trooper McSoldierClone, What A Weather It Is Today, Ha Ha? Over. Yes Indeed McTrooper One Two Three Four, I Am Agree, Now Here Is An Order To Follow Which I Am Vociferously Giving You, Acknowledge Orally, Over. Every clone making rock-hard sweating eye contact like don’t fuck it up as they mentally chant encouragement and script notes and jeering performance feedback at each other. Cadets trooping to fucking speech practice to learn speaking out loud with all the enthusiasm and skill of the average white suburban Floridian teenager taking their fifth mandatory Spanish 1 class. The jedi are like damn these poor asylum grown freaks are so unsocialized and uncomfortable around us, Their Owners, this is so tragic and horrid and unfortunate and meanwhile every clone standing silently in formation is mentally spectating the 400-person telepathic tetris team sport they invented with the same vibes as a football world cup back alley street party complete with official & unofficial betting pools and expert panel commentary

[dcxdpdabbles]

For your adoptive son au all I can think about is the media storm that’s about to destroy these two 😭

Like when the news comes out everyone’s gonna bash Danny, saying things like “always knew he was shady” or “figures, rich people are all bad” and then praising Dick for going undercover and revealing the monster

And then BAM the accusations are false! All the kids that were on his file of “trafficked” kids all came to testify in Danny’s defense!

Then because the media needs someone to hate all eyes turn to Dick. Because “these are serious accusations he’s practically ruined Danny’s career!”

Tbh when all the court stuff is done I totally imagine Danny severing any and all ties to Wayne company, not because he’s petty but because it genuinely hurts to be connected to a company that belongs to his exes family

Like this is gonna destroy Danny and Dick but the media is gonna make it so much worse for them

The batfam is gonna kick themselves for honestly not digging a little deeper and interviewing a few of the kids on file before straight up turning him in, they probably think they ruined Danny’s life with these accusations

Danny probably doesn’t care that much about the company at this point, he’s just sad that the man he thought he was having a genuine relationship with turned out to be a fake and probably never loved him at all 💔

Despite the pain, Dick keeps an eye on the news, waiting for the announcement of Crowne's arrest to be announced. He went back to bed after taking some photos of the journals. He laid next to the man one that was profiting off of children.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling a sick sort of numb. Unwillingly he thought back to all the times he had had the stray thought that Crowne wasn't evil.

That the bats had it wrong. How could a man as kind and dear as he does something so horrid? Dick had allowed himself to be relived with each failed month of searching for evdidnce.

He can admit it now. He had prayed that Crowne was innocent and had conducted his investigation not nearly as through as he should have.

He had.

Crowne even keeps a record of who and where the children were sold to. The man he fallen in love with was bookkeeping his crimes as easily as he did for his company.

The following day, Crowne- he had been Danny only a few hours ago.- had made him breakfast. The same way his mother used to make for Dick, admitting with a blush that he contacted Harley Cirius to ask for the recipe.

He made his heart swell and then break in the same bite. Dick played his role through the breakfast. His face felt like plastic, the smile he sent Crowne slimly, and he all but ran out of that house.

The house that, in another life, they would have likely raise a family in.

Don't think about it. Dick hissed at himself, tears filling his eyes as he drove away. Bruce had edited out the evidence and would break in while Crowne was working to capture the record books. They would meet in Commissioner Gordon's office, where Dick would turn in his lover. Not my lover. It was never real.

If he tells himself that, maybe he will believe it.

The commissioner had been grim faced as Dick broke down in his office, speaking through wrenched sobs and broken words of the journals he had found. He didn't even need to pretend to be a sobbing mess.

Dick doesn't think he's felt this terrible in a long time. It felt worse than when he and Bruce had their fights. At least then he could also feel anger. Now, he only feels pain, grief, betyal and shattered hope. Bruce- playing the part of a worried father- rubbed his back and anchored him through the moment.

The story they went with was that a few weeks ago, Dick started to suspect that Crowne was cheating on him. After learning about his work schedule, he noticed his boyfriend was always busy with non-work business.

He brought it up with Crowne, but the other man would often dance around the subject. After a while of this, Dick had been unable to help snoop around, where he stumbled across the journals.

At first, he assumed the books were for the many children-based charities that Crowne ran and didn't think they were too important. He continues to date Crowne after not finding any cheating evidence. But Dick could not help about those strange journals or Crowne's cagey behavior about his wearabouts.

Dick had searched the children's names, only to find them all matching missing children notices. He realized what Crowne was doing and had gone straight to Bruce, freaking out.

Bruce had taken them to Gordon since the man was such a close family friend, and they were worried what Crowne would do to Dick if he learned what Dick had discovered.

Gordon had assured them that they would remain anonymous until the trial,getting the warrants and taking the necessary steps to arrest Crowne. Feeling numb, Dick had been taken back to the Wayne Manor.

Bruce fretted around him, unsure what to do with his son, who had obviously fallen for a monster. Jason and Damian tried in their own way too help too, but Dick could not feel up to any of it.

He climbs into his room, muffling his sobs into his pillow, feeling sick and wrong to his stomach. He tossed and turneduntil Crowne's voice whispered I think I love you, Dick and he as if his world was ending.

A few seconds later, he's racing into the bathroom, hurling the breakfast Crowne had made him. It swirled around in the toilet as Dick gagged and gasped, mourning what he had lost for this mission.

The sweet kind man he fell in love with was dead to him.

"The worst part," Dick thinks he confessed to Bruce between tears and throwing up. His father had come racing when Jason reported the noises coming from Dick's bathroom. "Is that I was the one who killed him."

It's been three days.

He had texted Crowne lying about going on a trip and barely responded to the messages he received in return. He hadn't gone out on patrol in days and had barely ventured out of his room.

Sleep evaded because all he dreamed about was Crowne's sweet smiles, gentle hugs, and laughing eyes. His nightmares were filled with Crowne's smug smirk, surrounded by screaming children in cages. The worst nights were when Crowne would kiss him, pushing him against the cages as children cling to Dick's legs screaming and crying in haunting tones. why? why? why? Why do you love him? Look what he's done to us! Why!? Save us!

Dick woke with his own scream trapped in his throat and his arms reaching for a man who he shouldn't want anymore.

Now he, in the present, he sat before his tv watching the News. The lights were all off, the curtains drawn tightly closed. His family worried about him, but they all agree to watch the moment by himself, if only to spare his diginty.

Gordon had sent the message that the warrents were approve and proof had been dropped off by Batman after bringing it to the hero's attention.

They would be arresting Crowne.

Dick would watch it live. See with his own eyes, and his own ears what his lies had exposed.

"Breaking news," The anchor suddenly says, staring intently into the camera. Besides her, a small window shows the familiar front entrance of Crowne's company offices. Dick clenches his fist into the blankets he has wrapped around himself. "Danny Crowne, Owner, CEO and head developer for his family company, Crowne Co. has just been arrested on accusations of human trafficking. We go live to Crowne Co Admin bulding"

The window expands to the entire screen, and Dick feels his stomach turn into horrific mini-whirl pools as various camera crew scramble for a clear view. There is a crowd of unhappy citizens being held back by the police.

Someone had leaked what crimes Crowne had done. The news had spread fast enough that he was deeply hated by the people who had once cheered onhis name.

Crowne is led out in handcuffs by two scowling police officers. His suit is rumpled, and three large bruises are forming on his face- probably due to Officer Black, whose sister was sold to human traffickers when he was a kid-but it means nothing to his expression of devastation.

He looks to be in shock, staring down at his bound hands with dead seat eyes as if he was unsure of what he was seeing. The crowd starts screaming the moment they catch sight of him. Loud curses and swears are all aimed at the man who stumbles his way into the police car.

The doors of Crowne headquarters burst open by a screaming child. Timothy Drake is held back by officers as he desperately screams for his older brother. He starts fighting with all his tiny might as a woman from CPS drags him away.

The reporting journalist for the News outlet doesn't stop speaking as Crowne is led away, looking to be sobbing into his hands as the Police drive away. Drake is thrown into another car, banging on the windows and screaming so much his voice is raw.

The two would likely never see each other again.

Dick's vision blurs with more tears.

He wishes this would have made him angry. He's good with anger. He knows his rage. This grief is consumingly painful.

She outlines the accusations against Crowne, explaining that Gotham's finest had gotten a tip from an unknown source about the possible missing children. Dick slumps into his bed ice racing down his arms and legs, leaving each limb in pins and needles.

He can't stop picturing Crowne's form hunched over in tears, glowing in those red and blue lights.

"There is a gag order on the investigation, " the woman says, mic close to her face and looking grim. "We will keep the people updated with any new information released as we wait for Crowne's trail. Back to you Susan."

The screen flashes back to the old news member, who makes one single comment of disgust for Crowne before moving on to a string of cyber attackes by a unknown hacker.

Dick stops listening due to the rining that build up in his ears. It's done. Crowne was arrested. He will be go through his trail, be found guilty and locked up for the rest of his life.

Batman, Robin, and Sparrow would be hunting down the people involved in the ring, rescuing the missing children. The story was over. The villian defeated and the heros had won.

Yet, Dick felt that he could never live to see a happily ever after. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to feel happy.

______________________________________________________

Days blend into each other. Dick isn't sure how much time passes with him lying in his room, too exhausted to get upand go about his day. His family crowds around him, speaking in low, worried tones.

Jason tries to read to him. In bursts of awareness, he discusses the plot but most days, Dick can only find the energy to only stare at him.

Damian, still trying to find his footing in the manor, brings his cat- Alfred- to cuddle against Dick's chest. He doesn't speak much but the purring of his pe helps some sensations return.

Bruce spent most of his time petting Dick's hair and whispering apologies. For the fighting. For the war, he brought him into. For making him due something that had broken Dick's heart. Dick tells him between sobs that he forgives him and that he's sorry too.

Alfred just provids support, tea and stories of his own lost broken heart.

Dick can feel himself rot around in his room but can't bring himself to care. Not even when Bruce finally panics enough to invite the Teen Titians to speak to him. His friends arrive between waves of consciousness, forcing food down his throat and pushing him into the shower.

He isn't aware of how Crowne's trial is going. Walley doesn't think it is a good idea to keep up with it, blocking it from all his outlets. He's the only one he would be allowed to do that.

It leaves Dick in the dark, and suddenly the world looks so much colder. It is hard to remember the world is still spinning outside of the Manor.

Dick closes his eyes, sinking into his mattress, drifting away among the worried chattered of his friends. Thankfully, the nightmares have stopped. The memoriess too.

All that greets him is the blissful nothing of darkness.

____________________________________________________________

"You did this." A voice hisses, snapping Dick from his blank stare at the wall. Raven and Kori had just stepped out after magically him clean and had gone to go get him food.

How many days has it been since he left his room? Dick can't remember. It's been a while; his body feels weak. His friends' and family's eyes have grown increasingly frantic in worry.

He twists his head to find a small figure in his doorway. It's not any of his younger brothers but someone dressed in all black. The bottom half of their face is covered by a black cloth, leaving their burning blue eyes alight with hatred in plain sight.

A intruder.

Dick should be worried about that, shouldn't he? He can't find the energy to be.

"He trusted you. He loved you. And you did this to him," The figure spats, striding forward, hatred dripping from his words. "They're investigating my parents too. The police think they helped Danny and took me away from them. My life is ruined because of you."

He stands over his figure now, holding a needle. Dick wonders if he's going to kill him. He can't find it in himself to care. Is that not an alarming thought?

But he doesn't feel fear. In fact, Dick can't feel anything at all. He makes no sound as the needle breaks the skin of his neck, nor when the figure leans in to whisper. "It's only fair I ruin yours in turn, right?"

Dick slowly gives into the blissful darkness as more figures enter the room, surrounding his body and lifting it off the bed. The last thing he sees is the thrown picture frame, one of the intruders throwing onto the sheets.

It holds the smiling faces of Dick and Crowne on their last date.

[keefechambers]

I wanna be blunt about this ongoing James somerton suicide threat issue but I don't want to connect it to my IRL Twitter to comment on the dogshit takes I'm seeing there or the good and well meaning but maybe too kind takes I'm seeing here.

Obviously, I hope that this is a false alarm cry for help fake threat. Yes, it would reinforce that Somerton is a self-centered egomaniac who can't handle consequences but that's preferable to dead.

But I work in local news and let me tell you something. I've covered half a dozen family annihilating murder suicides and heard hundreds of men making suicide threats over police scanners and a huge swath of these don't happen because they're depressed or because people are mean to them on the Internet. They're punishment. A person with an enormous amount of entitlement towards people around them gets backed into a corner and they punish the people closest to them by killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves.

No one wants to talk about this feature of suicide because...you want to help people who are struggling and guide them away from this path and being blunt about the fact that sometimes people die of suicide as a consequence of their own shittiness towards the world does not really help actively suicidal people. But suicide rates are higher in men not just because they have higher rates of untreated mental illness (a societal issue we must address for the sake of all) but because some people, often men, use suicide (but more often the threat of suicide) as a tool of abuse and control.

I'm not saying somerton is like, an icky abuser bad guy, he's just a run of the mill grifter scumbag, but his actions in the past show a clear pattern of escalating behavior that aligns with this.

Somerton gets called out -> somerton alleges physical threats of violence against himself and his fans rally around him supportively -> Harry calls somerton out in a bigger way -> Somerton says he's hospitalized but there are inconsistencies with the story but no one wants to talk about that because you wanna be nice-ish about a guy who just tried to kill himself and now he's trying to be framed as tragic but it doesn't really stick -> somerton apologizes again but his apology is rightly called out for lies and manipulative framing as well as his continuing attempts to profit off the community he betrayed -> James posts a suicide note publicly putting the onus of his own suicide on the loss of his friend Nick who he repeatedly threw under the bus and now everyone is rallying to say nice-ish shit and wring their hands in concern over poor james -> indefinitely repeat this vicious cycle forever until he actually does die or finally gives up and gets real, intensive therapy and a day job.

Thats not to say anyone's concern is misplaced, it's 100% better for him to be a living scumbag than a dead one. He deserves the chance to grow and learn and have a life outside of youtube.

But you don't have to portray this as the action of a sad depressed man who got bullied off the Internet. It's manipulation, whether he intended to go through with it or not and whether someone intervened or not. Not denying that internet bullying is a thing, I'm sure there were some people who were shitty directly to James but he made the choice to not unplug from this and to try and keep being a public figure rather than taking care of himself. He could have deleted Twitter, blocked anyone who was an asshole, gone to therapy and tried to move on with his life but if he'd deleted his channel he'd have lost monetization... Can't have that, right? So he posts some apology videos so his channel stays active and then complains about how ruinous this is while never trying to take real accountability.

But the reality is that people would have forgotten about him so quickly and maybe his job prospects would've been impacted but...that's on him, and that's for him to figure out but it's not actually life ruining. He chose to continue to engage knowing he'd get backlash and hate and he'd feel worse and worse and things would never get better without the time and space for people to forget.

He made the choice to make a public spectacle of his own alleged suicide. That is the action of someone who wants to put the weight of their suicide on someone else's shoulders and is morally wrong. He can be held to account for that, alive or dead.

[fatliberation]

hi, i'm a fat person who is just starting to learn to love and appreciate my body and i'm very new to the fat community and all that.

i was wondering if you could maybe explain the term ob*se and how it is a slur. i've never heard anything about it being a slur before(like i said, i'm very new here) and was wondering if you could tell me the origin and history of the word or mayy provide links to resources about it? i want to know more about fat history and how to support my community but i'm unsure of how to start

Welcome!

Obesity is recognized as a slur by fat communities because it's a stigmatizing term that medicalizes fat bodies, typically in the absence of disease. Aside from the word literally translating to "having eaten oneself fat" in latin, obesity (as a medical diagnosis) straight up doesn't actually exist. The only measure that we have to diagnose people with obesity is the BMI, which has been widely proven to be an ineffective measure of health.

The BMI was created in the 1800s by a statistician named Adolphe Quetelet, who did NOT sudy medicine, to gather statistics of the average height and weight of ONLY white, european, upper-middle class men to assist the government in allocating resources. It was never intended as a measure of individual body fat, build, or health. 

Quetelet is also credited with founding the field of anthropometry, including the racist pseudoscience of phrenology. Quetelet’s l’homme moyen would be used as a measurement of fitness to parent, and as a scientific justification for eugenics.

Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called "normal weight" people are "unhealthy" whereas about 50% of so-called "overweight" people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone. "Healthy" lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index.  

While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national "obesity" rates, the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as "overweight" overnight—to match international guidelines. Articles about the "obesity epidemic" often use this pseudo-statistic to create a false fear mongering rate at which the United States is becoming fatter. Critics have also noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs. Interesting!!!

So... how can you diagnose a person with a disease (and sell them medications) solely based upon an outdated measure that was never meant to indicate health in the first place? Especially when "obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition?

There is a reason as to why fatness was declared a disease by the NIH in 1998, and some of it had to do with acknowledging fatness as something that is NOT just about a lack of willpower - but that's a very complicated post for another time. You can learn more about it in the two part series of Maintenance Phase titled The Body Mass Index and The Obesity Epidemic.

Aside from being overtly incorrect as a medical tool, the BMI is used to deny certain medical treatments and gender-affirming care, as well insurance coverage. Employers still often offer bonuses to workers who lower their BMI. Although science recognizes the BMI as deeply flawed, it's going to be tough to get rid of. It has been a long standing and effective tool for the oppression of fat people and the profit of the weight loss industry.

More sources and extra reading material:

How the Use of BMI Fetishizes White Embodiment and Racializes Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings

The Bizarre and Racist History of the BMI by Aubrey Gordon

The Racist and Problematic History of the Body Mass Index by Adele Jackson-Gibson

What's Wrong With The War on Obesity? by Lily O'Hara, et al.

Fearing The Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings