Should South Park: The End of Obesity Be Required Viewing in Medical School?

Yes, there’s still much to find offensive, but South Park: The End of Obesity, in just 51 minutes, does more to explain some of obesity’s realities, its pharmacotherapy, and weight bias than the mainstream media has done perhaps ever. 

The mini-movie follows the plight of Eric Cartman, the fictional South Parkian child with severe obesity. 

South Park got everything right. The movie starts in a medical center where discussions with Cartman, his mother, and his doctor make it clear that obesity isn’t something that Cartman chose and is perhaps the most distressing aspect of his life. This certainly echoes study findings which report that quality-of-life scores in children with severe obesity are lower than those of children with newly diagnosed on-treatment cancers. As to how obesity erodes a child’s quality of life, no doubt part of its impact stems from obesity being a top source of schoolyard bullying, which is reflected by Cartman as he imagines his life without it. 

Cartman’s mother explains that of course they’ve tried diet and exercise, but that intentional behavior change alone hasn’t been sufficient to sustainably move the scale’s needle — a truth for the vast majority of people with obesity. But here, unlike in many actual doctors’ offices, Cartman’s doctor doesn’t spend time doubting or cajoling; instead, he does his job — which is to inform his patient, without judgment, about a pharmaceutical option that has proved to be beneficial. He accurately describes these medications as ushering in “a whole new era of medicine, a miracle really” that can “help people lose vast amounts of weight.”

The kicker, though, comes next. The doctor explains that insurance companies cover the medications only for patients with diabetes, “so if you can’t afford them, you’re just kind of out of luck.” This is changing somewhat now, at least here in Canada, where two of our main private insurers have changed their base coverages to make antiobesity medications something employers need to opt out of rather than opt into, but certainly they’re not covered by US Medicare for weight management, nor by our version of the same here in Canada.

But even for those who have coverage, there are hoops to jump through, which is highlighted by the incredible efforts made by Cartman and his friends to get his insurance plan to cover the medications. Thwarted at every turn, despite the undeniable benefits of these medications to health and quality of life, they are forced to turn to compounding — a phenomenon certainly pervasive here in North America whereby compounding pharmacies claim to be able to provide glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1) analogs with comparable efficacy at a fraction of the price, but without the same rigor of proof of purity or efficacy. 

Also covered by South Park is that the GLP-1 analog supply is impacted by use by people who don’t meet approved medical criteria and are using the medications for aesthetic purposes. This speaks to the incredible societal pressure to be thin and to the comfort of some physicians to inappropriately prescribe these medications. This is covered by the subplot of South Park’s weed farmer, Randy, who in turn delivers an important insight into how it feels to use a GLP-1 analog: “I think there’s something wrong with these drugs ... I feel satisfied. With any drugs I want to do more and more, but with these drugs I feel like I want things less. With these drugs you don’t really crave anything.” The sentiment is echoed by Cartman, who exclaims, “I think I’m full. I’ve never known that feeling before in my life, but I’m full.”

It’s remarkable that South Park, a show built on serving up politically incorrect offense, covers obesity and its treatment with more accuracy, nuance, and compassion than does society as a whole. The show notes that obesity is a biological condition (it is), that when it comes to health (in America) “you have to have some f-ing willpower.” But where they explicitly mean having willpower in terms of filing and pursing insurance claims (you do), explains that drug companies are making antiobesity medications more expensive in America than anywhere else in the world (they are), and finally delivers this quote, which, while missing the biological basis of behavior and hunger with respect to obesity, certainly sums up why blame has no place in the discourse:

“We have sugar companies, pharmaceutical companies, and insurance companies all just trying to figure out how to make money off our health. It isn’t fair to put the blame on anyone for their weight.”

No, it’s not.

This movie should be required viewing in medical schools.
 

Dr. Freedhoff is associate professor, department of family medicine, University of Ottawa, and medical director, Bariatric Medical Institute, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. He disclosed ties with Bariatric Medical Institute, Constant Health, Novo Nordisk, and Weighty Matters.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Yes, there’s still much to find offensive, but South Park: The End of Obesity, in just 51 minutes, does more to explain some of obesity’s realities, its pharmacotherapy, and weight bias than the mainstream media has done perhaps ever. 

The mini-movie follows the plight of Eric Cartman, the fictional South Parkian child with severe obesity. 

South Park got everything right. The movie starts in a medical center where discussions with Cartman, his mother, and his doctor make it clear that obesity isn’t something that Cartman chose and is perhaps the most distressing aspect of his life. This certainly echoes study findings which report that quality-of-life scores in children with severe obesity are lower than those of children with newly diagnosed on-treatment cancers. As to how obesity erodes a child’s quality of life, no doubt part of its impact stems from obesity being a top source of schoolyard bullying, which is reflected by Cartman as he imagines his life without it. 

Cartman’s mother explains that of course they’ve tried diet and exercise, but that intentional behavior change alone hasn’t been sufficient to sustainably move the scale’s needle — a truth for the vast majority of people with obesity. But here, unlike in many actual doctors’ offices, Cartman’s doctor doesn’t spend time doubting or cajoling; instead, he does his job — which is to inform his patient, without judgment, about a pharmaceutical option that has proved to be beneficial. He accurately describes these medications as ushering in “a whole new era of medicine, a miracle really” that can “help people lose vast amounts of weight.”

The kicker, though, comes next. The doctor explains that insurance companies cover the medications only for patients with diabetes, “so if you can’t afford them, you’re just kind of out of luck.” This is changing somewhat now, at least here in Canada, where two of our main private insurers have changed their base coverages to make antiobesity medications something employers need to opt out of rather than opt into, but certainly they’re not covered by US Medicare for weight management, nor by our version of the same here in Canada.

But even for those who have coverage, there are hoops to jump through, which is highlighted by the incredible efforts made by Cartman and his friends to get his insurance plan to cover the medications. Thwarted at every turn, despite the undeniable benefits of these medications to health and quality of life, they are forced to turn to compounding — a phenomenon certainly pervasive here in North America whereby compounding pharmacies claim to be able to provide glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1) analogs with comparable efficacy at a fraction of the price, but without the same rigor of proof of purity or efficacy. 

Also covered by South Park is that the GLP-1 analog supply is impacted by use by people who don’t meet approved medical criteria and are using the medications for aesthetic purposes. This speaks to the incredible societal pressure to be thin and to the comfort of some physicians to inappropriately prescribe these medications. This is covered by the subplot of South Park’s weed farmer, Randy, who in turn delivers an important insight into how it feels to use a GLP-1 analog: “I think there’s something wrong with these drugs ... I feel satisfied. With any drugs I want to do more and more, but with these drugs I feel like I want things less. With these drugs you don’t really crave anything.” The sentiment is echoed by Cartman, who exclaims, “I think I’m full. I’ve never known that feeling before in my life, but I’m full.”

It’s remarkable that South Park, a show built on serving up politically incorrect offense, covers obesity and its treatment with more accuracy, nuance, and compassion than does society as a whole. The show notes that obesity is a biological condition (it is), that when it comes to health (in America) “you have to have some f-ing willpower.” But where they explicitly mean having willpower in terms of filing and pursing insurance claims (you do), explains that drug companies are making antiobesity medications more expensive in America than anywhere else in the world (they are), and finally delivers this quote, which, while missing the biological basis of behavior and hunger with respect to obesity, certainly sums up why blame has no place in the discourse:

“We have sugar companies, pharmaceutical companies, and insurance companies all just trying to figure out how to make money off our health. It isn’t fair to put the blame on anyone for their weight.”

No, it’s not.

This movie should be required viewing in medical schools.
 

Dr. Freedhoff is associate professor, department of family medicine, University of Ottawa, and medical director, Bariatric Medical Institute, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. He disclosed ties with Bariatric Medical Institute, Constant Health, Novo Nordisk, and Weighty Matters.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Yes, there’s still much to find offensive, but South Park: The End of Obesity, in just 51 minutes, does more to explain some of obesity’s realities, its pharmacotherapy, and weight bias than the mainstream media has done perhaps ever. 

The mini-movie follows the plight of Eric Cartman, the fictional South Parkian child with severe obesity. 

South Park got everything right. The movie starts in a medical center where discussions with Cartman, his mother, and his doctor make it clear that obesity isn’t something that Cartman chose and is perhaps the most distressing aspect of his life. This certainly echoes study findings which report that quality-of-life scores in children with severe obesity are lower than those of children with newly diagnosed on-treatment cancers. As to how obesity erodes a child’s quality of life, no doubt part of its impact stems from obesity being a top source of schoolyard bullying, which is reflected by Cartman as he imagines his life without it. 

Cartman’s mother explains that of course they’ve tried diet and exercise, but that intentional behavior change alone hasn’t been sufficient to sustainably move the scale’s needle — a truth for the vast majority of people with obesity. But here, unlike in many actual doctors’ offices, Cartman’s doctor doesn’t spend time doubting or cajoling; instead, he does his job — which is to inform his patient, without judgment, about a pharmaceutical option that has proved to be beneficial. He accurately describes these medications as ushering in “a whole new era of medicine, a miracle really” that can “help people lose vast amounts of weight.”

The kicker, though, comes next. The doctor explains that insurance companies cover the medications only for patients with diabetes, “so if you can’t afford them, you’re just kind of out of luck.” This is changing somewhat now, at least here in Canada, where two of our main private insurers have changed their base coverages to make antiobesity medications something employers need to opt out of rather than opt into, but certainly they’re not covered by US Medicare for weight management, nor by our version of the same here in Canada.

But even for those who have coverage, there are hoops to jump through, which is highlighted by the incredible efforts made by Cartman and his friends to get his insurance plan to cover the medications. Thwarted at every turn, despite the undeniable benefits of these medications to health and quality of life, they are forced to turn to compounding — a phenomenon certainly pervasive here in North America whereby compounding pharmacies claim to be able to provide glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1) analogs with comparable efficacy at a fraction of the price, but without the same rigor of proof of purity or efficacy. 

Also covered by South Park is that the GLP-1 analog supply is impacted by use by people who don’t meet approved medical criteria and are using the medications for aesthetic purposes. This speaks to the incredible societal pressure to be thin and to the comfort of some physicians to inappropriately prescribe these medications. This is covered by the subplot of South Park’s weed farmer, Randy, who in turn delivers an important insight into how it feels to use a GLP-1 analog: “I think there’s something wrong with these drugs ... I feel satisfied. With any drugs I want to do more and more, but with these drugs I feel like I want things less. With these drugs you don’t really crave anything.” The sentiment is echoed by Cartman, who exclaims, “I think I’m full. I’ve never known that feeling before in my life, but I’m full.”

It’s remarkable that South Park, a show built on serving up politically incorrect offense, covers obesity and its treatment with more accuracy, nuance, and compassion than does society as a whole. The show notes that obesity is a biological condition (it is), that when it comes to health (in America) “you have to have some f-ing willpower.” But where they explicitly mean having willpower in terms of filing and pursing insurance claims (you do), explains that drug companies are making antiobesity medications more expensive in America than anywhere else in the world (they are), and finally delivers this quote, which, while missing the biological basis of behavior and hunger with respect to obesity, certainly sums up why blame has no place in the discourse:

“We have sugar companies, pharmaceutical companies, and insurance companies all just trying to figure out how to make money off our health. It isn’t fair to put the blame on anyone for their weight.”

No, it’s not.

This movie should be required viewing in medical schools.
 

Dr. Freedhoff is associate professor, department of family medicine, University of Ottawa, and medical director, Bariatric Medical Institute, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. He disclosed ties with Bariatric Medical Institute, Constant Health, Novo Nordisk, and Weighty Matters.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.