Fit for TV, Part 1

Remembering The Biggest Loser

This is Part 1 of a 3-part reflection on Netflix’s new documentary, Fit for TV, which looks back at The Biggest Loser.

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Netflix recently released a new three-part documentary called Fit for TV, which looks back at The Biggest Loser.

The moment I saw it pop up in my feed, I knew I had to watch. Not because I needed another bingeable show (though Netflix has plenty of those), but because The Biggest Loser was a cultural phenomenon—and for me, a personal one.

When The Biggest Loser first aired in 2004, I was in school to become a dietitian. I was in my early 30’s, going back to school to get my degree in nutrition. A career change, leaving the dot.com world to do something radically different. I remember being curious: would they feature a dietitian? Would someone like me eventually show up on screen, guiding contestants with practical nutrition advice? Of course, they never did. Instead, the trainers became the experts—the authority figures, the voices of truth.

Still, I kept watching. And if I’m honest, it wasn’t just professional curiosity. At the time, I was in the midst of a highly disordered relationship with food. I had lost weight, and part of me saw myself in the contestants. Their before-and-after stories felt uncomfortably familiar. As someone who at that point in my life dreamed of being a weight loss dietitian, I studied the show like it was a playbook. I’d catch myself thinking, If I were the dietitian on this show, I’d do it differently. I’d do it better.

And yet, beyond all that, I was entertained. It was “good TV.” That’s something I carry shame about now. I sat there week after week, enthralled as people were pushed, punished, and humiliated—all for my entertainment. Internally, I cheered when contestants stepped on the scale and the numbers went down. I winced when they went up, knowing the shame that would follow. I was hooked, even as something deep inside me knew this wasn’t right.

One of the moments that came flooding back while watching Fit for TV was the “temptation” challenges. If you don’t remember, contestants would be locked in a room surrounded by food—the very foods they were told they must avoid—and tempted with rewards if they gave in. A cookie could mean an advantage, but it also carried the risk of ruining their weigh-in. The whole setup framed food as dangerous, eating as failure, and restraint as virtue. Watching it again, I couldn’t believe how normalized this once felt.

Looking back, I see more clearly how The Biggest Loser didn’t just entertain—it shaped cultural beliefs about weight. It presented fat people as lazy, undisciplined, and in desperate need of saving. It portrayed extreme exercise and public humiliation as pathways to redemption. And it taught millions of viewers—including me—that shame was a legitimate tool for change.

Now, nearly two decades later, I feel a deep anger. Anger at how contestants were treated, pushed to their breaking points for ratings. Anger that we, as viewers, accepted this spectacle without questioning it. Anger at the way this show reinforced damaging stereotypes that continue to ripple through our culture today.

I know the producers, creators, and trainers will defend their choices. They’ll say it was about transformation, about hope, about entertainment. But no explanation can undo the harm. The truth is unavoidable: The Biggest Loser hurt people. It did more harm than good.

And the irony is, I wasn’t just complicit as a viewer—I internalized its messages. For years, I measured my own worth through similar lenses: discipline, willpower, control. I thought this was what health looked like. I thought this was what success looked like. That’s how powerful television can be—it doesn’t just reflect culture, it creates it. And even today, I work hard at unlearning that narrative that I held onto so tightly.

That’s why Fit for TV feels important to me. It’s not just a trip down memory lane, it’s a chance to reckon with what we believed, what we consumed, and what we still carry.

And this was only Episode 1. There’s so much more to say, so come back next week for part 2 of my reflections on Fit for TV and The Biggest Loser