The biggest losers here, in my view, are the show's creators - profiting off televised humiliation and suffering while feigning selective memory. David Broome said, "It would be hard for me to comment on the sheriff investigation because I just don't remember it." His co-creator JD Roth strikes me as even more objectionable, with that ever-present smirk as he talks about masterminding the show the way a serial killer might reminisce about their victims.
This is a story of reckless TV executives chasing the next big thing, willing to go to any length to get it, yet unwilling to do the basic work of hiring the right professionals - dietitians, chefs, psychotherapists. They missed the chance to use this platform to teach a nation how to choose better food, cook easy healthy meals, work through unresolved emotional issues, and practice genuine self-care. As someone with a graduate degree in dietetics, I see obesity not only as a physical issue but also a deeply psychological one.
The documentary touched on manipulative and unethical challenges, the toll on contestants during and after filming, and the long-term damage, from slower metabolisms to chronic ailments. But it failed to widen the lens to the real backdrop: America's obesogenic environment, where unhealthy, ultra-processed foods are cheaper and more accessible than their healthier counterparts. These sugar- and fat-laden products are exactly what emotional eaters, or those chasing a dopamine hit, are drawn to.
I wish the documentary had gone deeper into how each former contestant ended up at their starting weight and what was going on in their inner world. I suspect the common thread would have been self-loathing and negative self-talk. Tracey Yukich put it best: "You need to cheer for yourself... The show didn't change my life. I changed my life. I did that."
