Can the Biggest Loser solve our New Year’s Resolution?

Maybe, like me, you’re a couple of weeks into your New Year’s Resolution. I hope it’s going well. If your resolution centers on weight, let me suggest a strange source of motivation to continue. You may remember the dozen-year run of the NBC reality TV series The Biggest Loser. Contestants engaged in brutal exercise regimens and draconian calorie restriction (65%!) in an office-style weight loss competition, but only if your office manager trained under a third-world dictator and wore spandex. Through a 2022 prism, the show is horrifying, with its subtext that the value of the contestants as people was inextricably linked to their success in a crash diet and our knowledge that contestants abused diuretics for the sake of losing a few extra pounds for their public weigh-ins. The long-term weight-maintenance success rate of the contestants was, to put it mildly, not high.

So, I hope that any health-oriented 2022 resolutions bear little in common with The Biggest Loser. If you’re working on weight reduction, I hope you’ll focus more on the journey than the destination. But I also hope that we can all take a few lessons from the contest. A small number of contestants actually kept significant weight off after leaving the show, and a new analysis by Kevin Hall of NIH, maybe the most influential metabolic researcher in the world, looks at what may have led to their sustained success.

One of the major challenges in weight reduction is that we all gravitate toward a weight “set point” that is determined fairly early in life. When we lose a lot of weight, a la The Biggest Loser contestants, our resting metabolic rate–the calories we burn just to breathe, think, and live–slows significantly, and it becomes ever harder for us to keep weight off as our physiology inevitably pushes us back toward that set point. Investigators call this “metabolic adaptation.”

Distressingly, Hall found that six years after the competition ended, former contestants who maintained a very meaningful 12% weight reduction still exhibited a ~500 kcal/day metabolic adaptation. That is, their bodies burned 500 calories per day less at rest than they had prior to their weight reduction. And, paradoxically, the people who had the highest levels of physical activity (i.e., those who continued to burn the most energy through exercise) had the largest reductions in basal metabolic rate even though they were also the group who kept off the most weight. We can only conclude that physical activity not only burns extra calories but may have an effect on appetite. Other mechanisms are possible as well. It’s a big unknown.

Regardless of the uncertainty, this is even more evidence that we should focus more on the process of healthy living than we do on any individual measure, like body weight, waist circumference, or pant size. As we’ve said before, patients who enter programs like the Diabetes Prevention Program are often surprised at how little their weight is mentioned in class compared to, say, their daily activity levels. As you struggle with your resolution this year, consider altering your strategy if things get tough. Instead of saying “I’m going to lose five pounds this month,” consider process-based SMART objectives, like eating at least five servings of fruits and vegetables daily, taking a tablespoon of psyllium husk daily, and at least 30 minutes a day of real physical activity.

And if you’re interested in promoting this kind of strategy to your employees through resources like the Diabetes Prevention Program, please let us know.

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health, I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on hot topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

Diabetes screening comes for the millenials

When I was a junior medical school faculty member, we spent a lot of time talking about the special educational needs of the Millenial generation. At the time, as a proud Gen Xer myself, Millenials seemed so...distant. But now the oldest millennials are 40(!), and the youngest are 25. As the age of Millenials has risen, so have rates of obesity and diabetes. About one in three Americans now has “prediabetes,” meaning a blood glucose level that is abnormally high but not high enough to be declared diabetes mellitus. Around ten percent of Americans are currently diabetic, and the rate of diabetes in people under age 20 has gone up a staggering 95% in the last twenty years (paywall).

So, inevitably, these streams have crossed, and the United States Preventive Services Task Force, or USPSTF, has now reduced the recommended age to screen for diabetes down from ages 40-70 to ages 35-70, starting smack dab in the middle of the Millenial bracket. They recommend we repeat the screening every third year. The screening recommendation applies only to people with a body mass index of 25.0 kg/m2 or above, but that is still a huge population, more than 40 percent of Americans by some estimates. And the guideline recommends considering even earlier screening for “...American Indians, Black people, Hispanics and other groups with ”overweight or obesity with “disproportionately high diabetes rates.”

The purpose of screening people for diabetes and prediabetes, typically with a fasting blood test, is not to simply attach a hurtful label to someone; it is to find people whose progression from prediabetes to diabetes, which normally proceeds at a rate of ~5-15% per year, can be slowed or halted with lifestyle changes or medications. The most tried-and-true program to accomplish this is the National Diabetes Prevention Program, or DPP, a one-year behavior change program conducted by peer coaches in-person or virtually. The USPSTF “found evidence that medical interventions for newly diagnosed diabetes have a moderate benefit in reducing diabetes-related deaths and heart attacks over a span of 10 to 20 years.” But the most compelling reason for screening for and preventing diabetes may be monetary savings. In addition to being the seventh leading cause of death in the United States, diabetes is an astonishingly expensive disease. The American Diabetes Association estimates that the cost of caring for a person with diabetes is roughly 2.3 times the cost of caring for the average person without diabetes. Diabetes accounts for about one in seven dollars spent in the American medical system. At a cost of around $500 for a year of the DPP, then, with one in seven participants subsequently avoiding a diagnosis of diabetes, it is no surprise that diabetes screening and the DPP are wildly cost-effective. And that is without taking into account that people enrolled in the DPP have lower rates of absenteeism and a reduced need for blood pressure and cholesterol medications.

We at KBGH so believe in the DPP that we’ve offered two employers funding for pilot programs. If you’re interested in exploring offering the DPP as a medical benefit, please reach out to us!

[disclaimer: KBGH receives CDC and KDHE funding in part for increased detection and prevention of type 2 diabetes]

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health, I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on hot topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

How you can help your employees make decisions

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

Our work at the Kansas Business Group on Health straddles our employer-oriented pursuits and efforts to advance the goals of two grants from the Centers for Disease Control (CDC). One of the goals of our work with the CDC is to increase the number of people being screened for diabetes. For people who are “pre-diabetic,” meaning their blood sugars are higher than normal but not high enough to qualify for a diagnosis of “full-blown diabetes,” our goal is to get them into the Diabetes Prevention Program (DPP), a one-year behavior change program that, through dietary changes and increased physical activity, reduces the risk of progressing to diabetes by 58%.

This is a challenge. Though the DPP is a covered benefit through Medicare, it is not consistently covered by private insurers. And even with coverage, people’s enthusiasm for paying for and completing a program to treat a disease state that is asymptomatic is generally low. So we work with employers to make the DPP a covered benefit. You may have heard from us about this. If not, please contact us. But we also work with clinics on strategies to increase screening for diabetes and to increase patient use of the DPP.

So we were encouraged to see a paper in the Journal of General Internal Medicine this week (paywall) demonstrating a quick way to substantially increase the likelihood of patients agreeing to enter “intensive lifestyle interventions” like the DPP.

The investigators surveyed patients who qualified for the DPP to measure their intention to participate. 70% of patients at baseline said they would be willing to participate. Then the staff members of the health center presented this decision aid to the subjects by reviewing the icons, reading the written information out loud, and briefly discussing the participants’ needs and next steps:

Northwestern University

Northwestern University

The backside of the decision aid, which I’m not showing here, contained open-ended questions assessing needs related to the prevention of type 2 diabetes and defining next steps for management. After seeing the decision aid, the participants in the study willing to participate in the DPP rose to 88%, a statistically significant increase.

This is encouraging for a couple of reasons. First, it didn’t matter who presented the decision aid to the participants. Staff members and medical assistants had similar results.

Second, this is the rare tool that has shown such a positive effect. Simply handing out pamphlets to patients repeatedly fails to change behaviors. When we try to induce behavior change through interaction with patients we have a bad habit of falling back on fear: “Quit smoking or you’ll die young.” “Don’t drink pop or you’ll get diabetes.” The trouble with this strategy is that it has almost no effect on complex, long-term behaviors like diet, physical activity, and smoking. Fear might work to convince someone to take an antibiotic for two weeks to keep from dying from pneumonia, for example. But for longer term decisions, we have to exploit people’s senses of autonomy, mastery, and purpose instead, just like we use in designing meaningful work for employees. (If you’re interested in this topic I recommend Drive by Dan Pink.) But those three components don’t lend themselves easily to a quick intervention. Doctors and nurses are trained in motivational interviewing to accomplish complex behavior change, but it requires a trusting relationship and time to work. This study showed that even a brief intervention, delivered both in writing and in person in a few minutes, can have a powerful effect. What if we could harness this strategy for other behaviors, like encouraging mask-wearing for COVID-19 protection?

The DPP, which is available both as an in-person class and via virtual platforms, has been shown to drastically reduce health care costs for employers of people at high risk of diabetes. If you want to know your own company’s potential savings, go to the American Medical Association’s Cost Saving Calculator. Let us know if we can help make this calculation. And if you’re interested in covering the DPP as a benefit to your employees, contact us!

My comments from the Envision Adult Support Group

I had the pleasure of speaking at Envision this morning about diabetes awareness. Here are my comments:

Thank you for having me. This is not my first time speaking at Envision. It’s always a pleasure to be here. There’s an old joke that the moment a speaker steps to the lectern the crowd wonders: will this be a short, informative talk, or are we stepping into a low-key hostage situation? I promise this is not a hostage situation.

This is the story of Victoria. When we tell biographies, one of our first instincts is to say when and where someone was born. “Robert Goddard was born October 5, 1882 in Worcester, Massachusetts.” You know what I’m saying. But here’s the thing: Victoria hasn’t been born yet. Yet we already know some things about her, assuming she’ll be born in the United States. We know she’ll have a lifetime risk of developing diabetes of around 50%. A coin toss. We know she’ll have a lifetime risk of being overweight or obese of at least 70%. Way worse than a coin toss. We know that these risks will be less related to any specific decision Victoria makes than to the environment in which she is conceived, gestated, born, raised, and in which she ultimately works.

But before we get to that, you deserve to know how I make my money. I have a strange career. I’m an endocrinologist by training. That’s a doctor who specializes in metabolism and hormonal disorders. I’m still board-certified, and I still see patients at Guadalupe Clinic. But the much bigger fraction of my career is spent trying to change the way care is delivered. That sounds too simple. You know the frustration of calling for a doctor visit, waiting on hold, getting an appointment months from now, then waiting in the waiting room for a half an hour while you do paperwork, then waiting in the exam room in a paper gown for another twenty minutes, and then never even getting a copy of your labs once you’re done? That’s what I mean. That’s what we’re trying to change. More care can be delivered by non-doctors in non-offices and at the convenience of you, the patient. 

One of the organizations that pays me to try to affect this change is the Centers for Disease Control, the CDC. Specifically, they along with the Kansas Department of Health and Environment pay me to try to encourage more doctors to offer care like the Diabetes Prevention Program or Diabetes Self-Management Education, or the Diabetes Self Management Program, all of which we’re going to talk about today. So be a cautious consumer. As I talk, ask yourself if you think I really believe the things I’m saying, or if I’m just a government stooge repeating words put into my mouth by my benign overlords.

I originally called this talk, “Should I go to diabetes education?” But I’ll talk about more than that.

Let’s get back to Victoria, our future, not-yet-even-a-twinkle-in-her-mom’s-eye. When Victoria grows into adulthood she’ll be told by her doctor that she needs to take in fewer calories and burn more calories in the form of physical activity or exercise. Good advice. We call these the “Big Two”: diet and exercise. And historically we’ve blamed the obesity and diabetes epidemics on decreased physical activity and increased caloric intake. The physics of it just make sense: you can’t make fat out of air. But there’s a big problem with limiting our explanation of her risk to this simple “calories in, calories out” model: the math doesn’t add up. 

Intentional leisure time physical activity--that’s the kind that takes equipment, like shorts or special shoes or a bicycle or a pool--has gone up (way up) since the 1980s. Yet as a nation we’re fatter than ever. Investigators writing on the findings of a 2016 study in Obesity Research & Clinical Practice noted, “A given person, in 2006, eating the same amount of calories, taking in the same quantities of macronutrients like protein and fat, and exercising the same amount as a person of the same age did in 1988 would have a BMI that was about 2.3 points higher…about 10 percent heavier, even if they follow the exact same diet and exercise plans.”

Why is this? Why are we punished for having habits that are objectively better than those of our parents?

Well, it is no one thing. Anyone who tells you that they know the exact problem and have the precise solution is lying or excessively optimistic or both. It’s the combination of a lot of things, and like Victoria’s, our risk is teetering one way or the other long before we’re conceived, let alone born. Let’s go back to pregestational Victoria. 

If Victoria’s mom is anything like most of us, we know a couple things. First, she probably carries a few extra pounds. And we know that those extra pounds carry just the slightest advantage in reproduction. That is, Victoria’s mom is ever so slightly more likely to get pregnant and carry a baby than a woman who is of a normal body weight or who is too thin. So Victoria is simply more likely to be born than someone with a very thin, non-diabetic mom would be.

The second thing we know about Victoria’s mom is that she has probably had some chronic, low-grade lead exposure, especially if she has lived her life in an urban center where dense car traffic spewed leaded exhaust into the air for decades and let it settle into the soil. The higher the lead level in Victoria’s mom’s blood, the higher Victoria’s risk for obesity, even if mom never had enough lead in her blood to be considered “lead poisoned,” and even if Victoria herself never had enough lead in her own blood to be considered dangerous by current standards. 

And birds of a feather, well, you know…flock together. Victoria’s mom is likely to choose a mate whose body in some way matches hers. Or he chooses Victoria’s mom. Either way, since we know that something like two-thirds of body weight is heritable (that is, two-thirds of your risk of being thin or being heavy), having both a mom and a dad who carry extra weight puts even more pressure on Victoria’s future weight.

Since Victoria’s mom and dad have bills to pay, there’s a big chance they put off having a family. That’s the new American way. Not only the American way; the western way. The age at first birth in the United States has gone from 22 to 26 since the 1960s. And every five years parents wait to have a child, the risk of obesity in the child may go up fourteen percent

Five years after they marry, Victoria’s mom and dad decide to get pregnant, and they have good luck. But during Victoria’s gestation, her dad encourages her mom to “eat for two.” We now know that increased fat and sugar in mom’s diet can cause “epigenetic effects” in the fetus. Remember the way DNA is put together, with A and T and C and G all writing a code that turns amino acids into proteins? Epigenetic effects aren’t changes in the A-T-C-G order of base pairs in the DNA itself; these are modifications of those base pairs, like sticking an extra branch onto the side of the “A” to keep it from coding quite as efficiently as it should. And we know one of the possible effects of these epigenetic effects may be to make Victoria more prone to weight gain and diabetes.

Finally, Victoria is born. Her mom breastfeeds her, like most moms do now, and which may have some protective effect. But after that Victoria eats what her folks buy for her: a largely government-subsidized diet that is >50% highly processed, has little fiber, and contains >2x the meat needed. We now know that this highly processed food dramatically increases our risk for weight gain and diabetes.

Investigators at the NIH recently paid twenty volunteers (ten men, ten women) to live in a research hospital for a month. They were randomly assigned to eat either an “ultra-processed” diet (think packaged meat, gravy, and potatoes) or an unprocessed diet (like fresh broccoli, cooked rice, and frozen beef) for two weeks. The diets were identical in the number of calories and amount of nutrients like fat, sugar, protein, and fiber. The volunteers were observed closely for food intake, and frequent testing was done to determine how many calories they were burning. After two weeks each person in the study was “crossed over” to the  opposite diet from what they’d started on. That is, the processed diet folks started eating the unprocessed diet, and vice-versa.

What the investigators found was dramatic. In spite of having equal  numbers of calories available to them at every meal and snack, the people eating the processed diet ate about 500 calories per day more  than the people eating the unprocessed diet. This showed up in their weight: the processed dieters weighed, on average, 2 pounds more at the  end of two weeks than they did at the start of the diet. All their extra weight was in the form of fat. And this may not have even done the effect justice: since the processed food had so little fiber, investigators had to sneak fiber into the processed food just to bring the level up to the unprocessed diet’s fiber. Without that, the results probably would have been even more dramatic. 

When young Victoria turns twelve her parents decide to reward her for her good grades with new cell phone. To keep up with the social scene at school she starts sleeping with it, checking social media when she wakes up at night. As a result of this she ends up sleeping less than seven hours per night. This disrupted sleep has a measurable, clinical effect on her appetite, probably because of changes in hormone levels like ghrelin (from the stomach) and leptin (from fat). 

In addition to the effect of abnormal hormones, Victoria is exposed to a lifetime of endocrine disrupting chemicals like those in air pollution, pesticides, flame retardants, and food packaging. Endocrine disruptors are chemicals that mimic or block the effects of naturally occurring hormones. Investigators in 2017 measured the amount of bisphenol A, a chemical you’ve heard of as “BPA,” in the urine of volunteers. They noted that people in the top quartile of BPA excretion, that is, the people who had more BPA in their urine than 75% of their peers, had a mean body mass index (BMI) a full point higher than people with the lowest BPA level. And BPA is one of thousands of potential chemicals we are exposed to now that were not in our environment even a few decades ago. 

While Victoria eats her processed diet and takes in a strange brew of endocrine-disrupting chemicals, she lives and works in a strictly air-conditioned, heated car, office, and home that block any exposure she would normally have to hourly or seasonal temperature excursions. She’s almost never hot and almost never so cold that a cardigan can’t fix it. The effect of this may be to increase hunger. Researchers in the journal Physiology and Behavior noted that people in an office experimentally heated to 81 degrees reported decreased hunger, decreased desire to eat, feeling fuller longer. Not surprisingly, they were thirstier than their cooler peers. 

Because she lives in a cul-de-sacced suburb that is poorly designed for walkability, Victoria does not have the opportunity to walk anywhere. Not to the store, not to work. Her only opportunities for meaningful physical activity come from going to the gym. She cannot spontaneously exercise. The effect of this can be dramatic. In 2014, engineers reported in the Journal of Transportation and Health that going from an intersection density of 81 per square mile to 324 per square mile dropped was associated with a reduction in obesity from 25% to less than 5%. Similarly, going from a community design that made walking difficult to a grid-like walkable layout cut the obesity rate by a third. 

Perhaps in part because of her poor sleep, processed diet, lack of exercise, Victoria becomes depressed and is put on an SSRI medication by her doctor. These medications and many others have the effect of a small but predictable amount of weight gain.

Depressed yet? Don’t be. There’s not a thing on that list that we couldn’t fix if we wanted to. But I’m not here to talk politics or policy. I’m here to talk about things you can do personally to change your risk of weight gain, diabetes, and complications of diabetes. And anyone in the room with type 1 diabetes, which is less affected by weight, don’t go away. A lot of this applies to you, too. 

If you’ve heard me talk before you might be aware of Justin’s Rubric for Quality Health Care. Any potential medical test or treatment should meet one of three standards. Either:

  1. It should make the patient feel better. This includes hundreds of treatments, like using medications and physical therapy for pain, prescribing inhalers for asthma, giving antidepressants and therapy for depression, and replacing knees. It does not, unfortunately, include much of diabetes care. Any person in the room who takes multiple doses of insulin per day and checks her blood sugar even more often than that can attest to this. Or:

  2. If it does not make the patient feel better, the test or treatment should make the patient live longer. This applies to everyday things like checking and treating high blood pressure and high cholesterol (neither one of which make most patients feel any better or worse today) to surgery and chemotherapy for cancers (most of which make patients feel much, much worse at least in the short-term, but prolongs many lives). Or finally:

  3. If a treatment makes no difference in how the patient feels and makes no difference in how long the patient lives, it should at the very least save money. The best example of this may be diabetes screening. As far as we can tell, screening for diabetes does not prolong life, at least not in the two or three trials that have specifically addressed the question. But diabetes screening linked to preventive measures like the Diabetes Prevention Program clearly saves money.

Diabetes was once a syndromic diagnosis, usually diagnosed when someone presented with epic amounts of urine, extreme thirst, unintentional weight loss, and sometimes strange infections. The very words we use to describe this condition give the crudeness of the diagnosis away: diabetes is from a Greek word meaning siphon, “to pass through.” Mellitus is from a Latin root word meaning honeyed or sweet. Because once upon a time, the diagnosis was confirmed by your doctor tasting your urine for sweetness.

But as our ability to test became more sophisticated, we began finding asymptomatic people with elevated blood sugars, and we had to decide who was normal and who was abnormal. It’s a tougher question than you may think, and we may still not know the answer.

So when should Victoria be screened? Or should she be screened at all? Like many questions in medicine, it depends on who you ask. Every test has risks and benefits. In the case of diabetes screening, the risks are small. There is the issue of the needlestick, but beyond that you mainly risk having an abnormal lab value on your chart. The primary benefit is financial. If Victoria is diagnosed with diabetes she can expect to spend $8,000-12,000 dollars more on medical care than the average non-diabetic person, with 12 percent of that coming out of her own pocket. Unfortunately people who are screened for diabetes and catch it early don’t seem to live longer than those who are caught according to symptoms, but they may feel better in the long run. And if we’re lucky enough to catch Victoria’s blood sugars before they rise into the frank diabetes range, we have things we can offer her.

With this in mind The United States Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) says that anyone between the ages of 40 and 75 should be screened at least every third year. The American Diabetes Association says that screening should begin at age 45 but expands this to say that anyone as young as age 10 with certain risk factors like family history; Native American, African American, Latino, Asian American, or Pacific Islander heritage; or certain signs of insulin resistance in the skin or reproductive organs should be screened. They’ve developed a tool alongside the American Medical Assocation and the Centers for Disease Control called the Diabetes Risk Test--you can take it yourself at preventdiabeteswichita.com--that asks a few questions (some demographics, your family history, your physical activity, your height and weight) and tells you whether they think you ought to be screened.

Screening generally means a check of Victoria’s first-morning blood sugar after fasting overnight. It can’t be done with a fingerstick, so Victoria has to resist the urge to borrow a machine from her mom. It needs to be done in the lab with blood drawn from a vein.The cutoffs that we set for pre-diabetes and diabetes are, naturally, semi-arbitrary, but they’re ultimately based on the eye. If Victoria’s result is a blood sugar of 126 or above repeatedly, it means she’s diabetic. If you think 126 is kind of a strange number, you’re right. That number is set at the point where she’s more likely to develop diabetic eye disease. So it’s the eyes that make all the difference in how we define diabetes.

If her blood sugar is below 100, she’s normal. But again, if she’s over 40, most people think she should get it repeated at least every third year.

If Victoria’s blood sugar falls into that range of 100 to 125, between “normal” and “diabetic,” her best bet is to seek out the Diabetes Prevention Program, a one-year program designed to help people decrease their risk of going on to develop diabetes. The DPP, as it’s called, is sixteen weekly one hour visits with a health educator followed by eight monthly visits. In those visits you learn problem solving strategies around food choices and physical activity with the support of your coach and a team of other patients. The program has been shown to reduce the risk of going on to develop diabetes by almost sixty percent, roughly twice as effective as metformin, a common diabetes medication. In addition to simply making your numbers look better, the DPP has been shown to improve cholesterol levels, to reduce absenteeism from work, and to increase patients’ sense of well-being. For anyone insured by Medicare, the program is a covered benefit. 

But what about the unlucky folks who go on to have diabetes?

We have a great program available here in town called the diabetes self-management program, or DSMP. It was developed by researchers at Stanford who were interested in making people with chronic diseases feel more in control of their lives and their destinies. It is 2.5 hours a week for six weeks, and it is taught not by a nurse or a doctor, but by a person who has diabetes herself. Investigators have determined that going through a self-management program like this reduces days in the hospital by almost two per year, probably cuts ER visits, cuts the risk of depression, and reduces low blood sugars. Best of all, it is free! If you’re interested, either ask your doctor or go to selfmanageks.org.

Last year investigators looked for randomized trials--that is, studies where patients are randomly assigned one treatment or another--of diabetes education. They included only trials that compared diabetes education with usual care, and they included only trials that lasted at least a year. Ultimately they found 42 trials that met these criteria, enrolling just over 13,000 patients and lasting an average of a year and a half. What they found was striking: diabetes self-management education significantly cut the risk of dying of any cause in type 2 diabetes patients by 26 percent. That is, a patient in the diabetes education arm of one of these studies was 26% less likely to die, by car wreck, chocolate poisoning, diabetic ketoacidosis, or any other cause, than a person receiving usual care.

In spite of this evidence, the utilization of diabetes education is disappointingly low. Only about one in five patients with diabetes ever attend. 

So let’s review, very briefly. Our risk--and Victoria’s--for being overweight or obese or having diabetes begins to accrue long before we’re even conceived and is constantly modified by our environment as we age. But many of the things that affect that risk--the cleanliness of our air, the foods available for us to eat, the design of our streets, and others--are modifiable. If in spite of optimizing all those things you still find yourself with an elevated blood sugar, you have several options.

So if you think you might be at risk for diabetes, get tested. If you’re pre-diabetic, ask for a referral to the diabetes prevention program. If you’re like Victoria, if your diabetes is out of control--if your hemoglobin A1c level is higher than what your doctor would like it to be, or if you have low blood sugars--ask your doctor about getting into a diabetes education program. If your diabetes is well-controlled numbers-wise but you feel out of control, also consider going to the  diabetes self-management program. The risk of the program is vanishingly low, and the potential benefit is large.

My remarks from the Wichita Business Coalition on Health Care's Obesity Forum this morning

Thanks for inviting me to kick off this very important event. Let’s start with a healthy dose of intellectual honesty. Obesity is a disease. It has arguably been so since the beginning of time, but it was made official in this country in 1985 when the National Institutes of Health issued a statement following its Consensus Development Conference on Obesity. This was followed by the report of the World Health Organization’s Consultation on Obesity and then the report of a committee of the Institute of Medicine, now known as the Health and Medicine Division of the National Academy of Sciences. Finally, the American Medical Association in 2013. Obesity is a disease because it is a “definite, morbid process with characteristic symptoms which affects the entire body; and has a known pathology and prognosis.” Obesity shouldn’t need this label in order to be taken seriously. Whether we--our institutions and organizations--pay for obesity treatment should ultimately depend more on what outcomes we value and the cost of achieving those outcomes. That is, the material inputs and outputs of the process, not our opinions of the people or behaviors that lead to them. A materialist versus spiritualist argument. I recently spoke at the Chronic Disease Alliance of Kansas meeting. Some of you were there. I made the argument that even if you are a spiritualist by nature, if you’re interested in medicine or public health, you must invest in a materialist point of view. That means you have to provide evidence for your assertions. How does this little philosophical cul-de-sac apply to obesity? Because I would argue that in spite of ample evidence and the label of disease applied by the NIH, the National Academy of Sciences, the AMA, and others, we don’t treat obesity in this country as a disease.

Think of what happens if you have, say, osteoarthritis of the knee. If you go to the doctor complaining of knee pain that fits the pattern of knee osteoarthritis, within some small confidence interval, you’ll get the same treatment regardless of what doctor you visit: x-rays to confirm the diagnosis, then some initial combination of anti-inflammatory drugs plus or minus strength training or physical therapy; then possibly an injection of hyaluronate or another agent; then a surgical procedure. All backed by some degree of clinical evidence as to their efficacy, with a set of professional guidelines that dictate the order and intensity in which they’re used.

And treatment for the disease--osteoarthritis still--is not limited to the clinical environment. We live under a robust set of laws, regulations, and expectations surrounding the humane treatment of people with osteoarthritis: handicapped parking stalls, construction standards around accessibility (curb cuts and whatnot). Furthermore, an enormous industry exists which caters to osteoarthritic people’s needs: handrails, higher toilets, special bathtubs, purpose-designed kitchen utensils, and others. For all its imperfections, this set of guidelines and expectations has the hallmarks of science: organization of knowledge, adaptability, the ability and willingness to change as evidence evolves.

But what happens if a patient goes to see his or her doctor for obesity? Even if the patient is lucky enough to encounter a doctor that considers obesity a disease and not a personal character failing, no such predictability exists. Doctor one may prescribes meal replacements, a la Nutrisystem, Weight Watchers, or dozens of competitors. Doctor two recommends avoiding “carbs.” (once called Atkins, now called paleo or ketogenic diet; it never goes away, we just change the name every ten years or so to convince people to avoid whole grains, the single most protective dietary component against diabetes) Doctor three prescribes phentermine, or if the patient is lucky, one of the drugs actually approved by the FDA for weight loss, all of which are exorbitantly expensive and modestly effective. Doctor four recommends the Diabetes Prevention Program. Doctor five recommends bariatric surgery. Doctor six recommends probiotics or another microbiome-directed treatment.

When the patient leaves the doctors office, she enters a built environment designed to be maximally obesogenic. Four-lane arterial roads replacing walkable, bikeable streets, even though we know beyond certainty that trips taken by car, rather than by bike, foot, or public transportation, are perfectly, directly related to the obesity rate in any community. And the amount of money any community spends on car-related transportation is perfectly aligned with obesity rates. Our patient pays sales taxes on obesogenic foods (red meat, refined carbohydrates, sugared beverages, and fats) at exactly the same rate as protective, high-fiber, unprocessed fruits, vegetables, and whole grains, in spite of evidence that Pigovian taxation, in which unhealthy foods are taxed at a rate equal to their the social cost and healthy foods are subsidized, has a powerful effect. Similarly, crop insurance and subsidy programs--in whatever form they take--favor meat and dairy production over fruits and vegetables.

When a peer gets cancer, we offer words of encouragement and give her rides to the doctor. We judge those with obesity and say they’re getting what they deserve for their weakness and sloth. We consider people who are competent, functioning members of society to be somehow constitutionally flawed and subject them to various levels of social discrimination. Obesity, along with intelligence, seems to be one of the final acceptable targets of discrimination; we casually make jokes about fat people and stupid people with none of the anxiety that accompanies insensitive remarks about race or sexual orientation. This is surely short-lived; over 80 million people in the U.S. have an I.Q. less than 90, and over 100 million are obese by body mass index criteria. These are groups large enough to fight back.

Viewed by an outsider, this set of circumstances does not resemble science. This is not the end result of a materialist view of the world. It resembles religion: a cultural system of competing behaviors, world views, and ethics that relate humanity’s problems not to the laws of the universe, but to supernatural elements. This elevation of the spiritual realm above the material realm is perfectly fine on Sunday mornings. I’m not here to make an anti-religion argument. Religion and spiritualism are vital in mobilizing public passion and opinion. NIH director Francis Collins, who discovered the gene mutation responsible for cystic fibrosis and later directed the Human Genome Project, is an evangelical Christian who advocates that religious belief can not only be reconciled with acceptance of scientific evidence, but that spirituality is vital to the responsible advancement of science. But spiritual thought in the absence of material evidence is unacceptable in the pursuit of a public health solution.

So how should we handle obesity as a health problem? As Kansans, we’re lucky to have perhaps the best model in our collective memories. We have Samuel Crumbine, early 20th century Dodge City physician who revolutionized the treatment of tuberculosis and other infectious diseases. At the outset of Dr. Crumbine’s career, infections were the leading cause of death by far and were dealt with in a quasi-spiritual manner. The consumption of tuberculosis was seen as God’s wrath. But Dr. Crumbine applied common sense strategies to limit the spread of the disease. He helped established sanitaria for tuberculosis patients, to isolate them from the public until they were no longer contagious. He spearheaded laws against spitting on the sidewalk (remember the bricks?), against shared drinking cups (you have him, indirectly, to thank for the modern bubbler-style drinking fountain), and against shared towels in public bathrooms. He advocated for fly-swatting campaigns. And all the while, he still promoted medical interventions for people already infected. Better antibiotics were developed. The entire specialty of cardiothoracic surgery grew not out of a need for coronary artery bypass grafting, but out of the need to drain tuberculous abscesses from the chests of infected patients.

When applied to obesity, I’m aware that lines blur. Calling something a disease moves individuals across a gauzy barrier between personhood and patienthood. You’re a person up until you’re labeled with a disease, then you’re a patient. The label inherently causes the patient to adopt a role in which he or she is excused from responsibility for his/her condition. This is healthy and appropriate; we know that the vast majority of lung cancers are caused by cigarette smoking, but we do not argue that smokers should be denied treatment. And the label creates an obligation for treatment that many obese people may not want. Roxane Gay and others have argued eloquently against the over-medicalization of body weight. And if this process (labeling of a disease, applying that label to people) entails an obligation for treatment, who will consent to pay the costs for that treatment? This social negotiation is just as big a part of what we need to address as any specific decision on the appropriateness or order of interventions.

I’m no Samuel Crumbine. I don’t even have a mustache. But if I channel Dr. Crumbine, I can see continued progress starting today. I can see the further development of a bike and pedestrian infrastructure, sensible parking policies, and street design that encourages higher density development with widely available green spaces. This can be partnered with local laws and regulations, a more sensible crop subsidy program, and a food tax system that encourages the production and consumption of quality foods over obesogenic foods. For patients who choose to seek help from their doctor, I can see a set of community-wide standards that promote a practical, stepwise approach to treatment that incorporates dietary and behavioral interventions alongside policies that make proven drug and surgical interventions more affordable. I can advocate for the development of a unified, science-based approach to obesity, motivated by spirituality but guided by material evidence.

Disclaimer: Health ICT was also a presenter, and the Forum was supported through a grant offered by the National Alliance of Healthcare Purchaser Coalitions and Novo Nordisk.

Super four-pack of links July 11, 2017: the five percent and healthcare money, video game addiction, exercise to prevent diabetes, activity inequality, and evil coconut oil

Super-user sounds great, right? Who doesn't want to be super at something? Only this video (in Memphis-style) refers to the 5% of Americans that account for ~50% of health care spending in a year.

To paraphrase the end of the video: "There's almost nothing insurance companies won't charge, and Americans won't pay." How do you keep yourself from becoming a super-user? Everything medical is a matter of risk, so don't believe anyone who tells you there's a rock-solid simple way to keep from falling into that 5%, at least temporarily. But overwhelmingly, if you can keep a steady job you don't hate, if you can abstain from smoking, if you can get even a small amount of daily exercise (more is better, obviously), if you can keep your alcohol intake to a minimum, if you can abstain from recreational drugs (this includes marijuana, obviously), and if you can choose to eat mostly plant-based foods in semi-sane quantities, you're gonna stay out of The Five Percent.

Dara Lind and Dylan Matthews join Ezra to talk about the updated travel ban, how Trumpism has translated into policy, and the impact that increasingly awesome video games have had on young men's work habits.


Links!


White Paper: Leisure Luxuries and the Labor Supply of Young Men


Peter Suderman's piece about young men playing video games instead of getting jobs


What does excess immersion into video games mean for young men?

I've tried to set the Weeds audio above to play at about the 46 minute mark. But if that doesn't work, fast forward to the 46 minute mark. Not because the discussion of what "Trumpism" is isn't interesting (it is), but because the discussion that follows helped me think more deeply about the problem of excess immersion into video games that young people, especially young men, are experiencing. I've blogged about this before, and I talked about it at a recent speaking engagement. We seem to be creating a generation of youths who are increasingly isolated in very immersive video games, and then they're growing up into increasingly isolated and lonely people, particularly after age 40. As Ezra Klein says in the piece: if this were a problem of drug abuse, I think we would be acting collectively to do something about it. That's an apt comparison, since game addiction and drug addiction seem to have some physiology in common. But since the solution to technological problems currently seems to be "more technology," we are kinda-sorta just plowing ahead and hoping that video games fix themselves. I'm not optimistic. I think we need to start introducing programs to help kids moderate their exposure to video games and increase their exposure to the world at a young age. Dylan Matthews, who generally defends the idea of video games as a pacifying technology for people who can't or won't work, ends with this quote: "When we're in our eighties, we're all gonna be doing, like, flight simulator stuff. That's, like, how we'll spend--or, VR stuff, at least--that's what retirement's going to look like." Yuck. No. No. No. 

A new meta-analysis shows that African-Americans who exercise may not derive the same protective benefit from type 2 diabetes as other races

(brief Healio write-up here)

 I'm not ready to sign on to this point; race is a very blunt instrument when it comes to genetics. As the cost of gene sequencing falls, I think we'll not only be able to tease out drug effects in people with specific genetic features; we'll be able to more precisely target interventions like physical activity. Maybe certain people in this collection of studies would have benefited more from strength training, while others needed more endurance-oriented activities. Maybe some would have benefited from a specific combination of drug and activity. We don't know the answers to these things now, but we will soon. 

Smartphone data shows that countries with the highest "activity inequality" are more likely to have large obese populations: 

More differences in activity within the population equals more obese people. 

More differences in activity within the population equals more obese people. 

So it isn't a surprise that the same investigators found that the higher the walkability of a city, the lower the "activity inequality":

Texas is not a place with a great deal of walkability. 

Texas is not a place with a great deal of walkability. 

The cynical take on this study is something like, "Of course people who are inactive weigh more!" Fair enough. But the obvious policy implication of the study is that, to affect the activity level of the inhabitants of a city, the built environment must give opportunities for activity.

ADDENDUM (make it a five-pack): How coconut oil got a reputation for being healthy in the first place. I don't love coconut oil, but even if I did, I'd think of it like I think of butter: an ingredient to be used sparingly, mostly for flavor. 

Linkfest March 15, 2017

Watch a professional cyclist's carbon wheel melt before your very eyes:

 

Some people think going gluten-free may be risky for diabetes. Hmmm. Gluten-free diets are, for the most part, a waste of time and effort unless you have celiac disease. And whole grain intake is generally associated with a decreased risk of diabetes, which is consistent with the alleged findings of this study. And this paper (not yet published) comes from Harvard, which gives it a certain cachet, but I'm always skeptical of big, splashy pronouncements like this when they're made ahead of publication. Too many of these studies end up having fatal flaws.

Bikes now officially outnumber cars in Copenhagen. "When Copenhagen first began manually counting cars and bikes in 1970, there were 351,133 cars and 100,071 bikes on the roads—a ratio of about 3.5 to 1. That's important, because it means not only are more people riding—about 150 percent more over 46 years—but also, fewer people are driving."

How the world's heaviest man lost it all. "The only thing that gave him comfort in life was food. It was a drug of abuse, freely available, heavily marketed."

Is loneliness the biggest threat to middle-aged men? Well, Vivek Murthy is definitely qualified to say so, and I think we're self-isolating ourselves with suburban homes and gadgets, but "biggest" is a stretch when we still have tobacco and obesity/diabetes to contend with...

Big pharma is very nervous about possible Trump FDA deregulation. This one cuts both ways. On one hand, I'm afraid that ineffective drugs are going to start coming to market if deregulation goes too far. On the other hand, any deregulation that is opposed by big pharma is inherently attractive.

The ADA 2017 Standards of Care in Diabetes are out. "To help providers identify those patients who would benefit from prevention efforts, new text was added emphasizing the importance of screening for prediabetes using an assessment tool or informal assessment of risk factors and performing a diagnostic test when appropriate." It's a start.

You can't use drugs to "prevent" diabetes

Big, big disclosure here: I am a paid consultant for a CDC grant that aims in part to increase use of the Diabetes Prevention Program. So there. Read on.

Good to see you again, Mrs. D. You mind if I call you Mrs. D? Thanks. Reminds me of "Mrs. C" on Happy Days. You know, she was the only one with the cojones to call the Fonz "Arthur." So you can see the resemblance.

I'm glad you asked about the recent study that showed a medicine called "liraglutide" (brand names Victoza or Saxenda) "prevented" diabetes. You're a smart person, so you read some of the fine print in the study, and you know that ~2200 patients, most of them obese, were randomly given a daily shot of placebo or a daily shot of liraglutide, a chemical that mimics a gut hormone to trick the pancreas into producing more insulin. Liraglutide has the side effect of making people feel fuller sooner after eating. Doctors call this "early satiety." The tricky vocabulary's how we make so much money.

All of the patients had elevated blood sugars, but not so elevated that they could be labeled "diabetic." They were "pre-diabetic" in the current nomenclature, just like you. It means the same thing as "impaired fasting glucose" or "impaired glucose tolerance." The study set out to prove that liraglutide could "prevent" the onset of diabetes. Now you're probably wondering: If I'm taking a diabetes drug, what's the point of having "prevented" diabetes?

And you're on to something, Mrs. D. This is an absurd question at face value, but it keeps getting tested, mostly by drug companies. Not surprisingly, in most cases people getting the diabetes drug were less likely than those getting a placebo pill or shot to have their blood sugars rise high enough to be diagnosed with diabetes.

I'm about to get really, really snarky, Mrs. D, but before I do, it's important that I make this point: the prevention of diabetes is actually a HUGE deal, and not only because diabetes remains the number one cause of blindness, kidney dialysis, and foot amputation in the United States. It is astonishingly expensive. Of the $3.2 trillion (!) that Americans spend on health care annually, diabetes directly accounts for $101.4 billion, making it officially the most expensive disease in America. If you can prevent people from advancing from the just-a-little-abnormal-sugars "pre-diabetes" to old-fashioned diabetes, you save about $12,000 per year in expenses. Now, that's insurance company money, but we all pay for it in premiums.

This is where your insurance premiums are going.

This is where your insurance premiums are going.

And as I've pointed out before, a big chunk of that extra spending isn't insurance money at all; it's coming out of your pocket in the form of co-pays and whatnot. And it's not much better for the Medicare crowd, who we all pay for in taxes:

So let's perform a quick thought experiment. You came to see me because you weren't feeling your best, and I checked a blood sugar on a hunch, and it's slightly elevated at 106 mg/dl. That's in that pre-diabetic range I've been talking about.

Bummer.

Now, we've got some options here. But let's say I tell you that the best way to keep yourself from becoming diabetic is to inject yourself with 10 units of insulin every night before bed. That way, your blood sugars will go back to normal, and we can both wash our hands of the whole issue. Great, right? We've prevented a case of diabetes! Your blood sugars are normal, after all.

BUT YOU'RE ON A DIABETES DRUG NOW!

Of course we haven't prevented a case of diabetes! We've just put you on a diabetes drug that has (predictably) lowered your blood glucose levels. The entire assertion that we've prevented anything is as laughable as the assertion that we could "prevent" a diagnosis of hypertension by putting you on blood pressure medications.

To make the situation even more ridiculous with liraglutide, it costs a fortune: over $3,000 a month for the 3 mg dose! If you wanna know where that extra $12k a year is going, I think we're hot on the trail. Think what else we could do with that amount of money. And if you for some reason think the idea of "preventing" diabetes by taking a diabetes drug isn't patently absurd, it works only modestly better than metformin, a drug that can easily be obtained for $3-4 per month.

But the final insult, Mrs. D, is that liraglutide worked barely better in its study than a program called the "Diabetes Prevention Program," or "DPP." In the liraglutide study, roughly 2% of people receiving the drug went on to have blood sugars high enough to be diabetic in three years, versus 6% of people getting placebo, for what we call an 80% "relative risk reduction." (Drug companies love using relative risk because it makes the numbers sound so much more impressive) In the original version of the Diabetes Prevention Program, 4.8% of people getting counseling on diet and lifestyle by a coach went on to be diabetic, versus 11% getting placebo, for a 58% relative risk reduction. The numbers for both groups in the DPP were higher, which I blame on an older participant population.

The cost of the Diabetes Prevention Program? $429 per year. So you might not be surprised to know that in 2016, when CMS was debating whether to allow Medicare to cover the DPP, the Pharmaceutical Research and Manufacturers of America (PhRMA) fought against it, saying that twenty years of evidence was only "preliminary." They do. Not. Care. About your health or the seemingly inevitable transformation of America into a single, enormous insurance company that also happens to field a Navy. And we should all remember that back when insulin was discovered, the University of Toronto held the patent for insulin to keep any single company from exploiting the drug for unreasonable profit. How times have changed.

Okay. Deep, cleansing breaths. I'm calming down. Liraglutide is a good medicine for diabetes. It helps keep sugars down, it helps with weight loss, and it may even help prevent heart attacks. In diabetics, that is. But you're not diabetic, and you don't have to become diabetic, and all drugs come with a cost, financially and otherwise. I think we can agree that diabetes is expensive enough; we shouldn't use drugs to "prevent" it that are even more expensive than the disease itself.

So, Mrs. D. You'd be a great candidate for the DPP. But even if you weren't, do you know what the DPP asks of its participants? 150 minutes a week of physical activity and some dietary modifications to allow you to lose around 7% of your body weight. Let's think about what that might look like. The average bike commute in this country is around 19 minutes one-way. Do that five days a week, and you're at 190 minutes already! And that doesn't even count trips to the grocery store! And if you stop drinking insect bait and cut out the foods that aren't really foods:

If you cut those out from your diet and start eating most of your food from the produce aisle or from the canned fruits and vegetables aisle, don't you think that 7% weight loss sounds pretty modest? I bet you'd blow it out of the water. 

And besides, do you really want to cross that grim threshold from "person" to "patient?" Because the first time you put the needle of that Saxenda pen into your skin, that's what you'll have done. You'll have moved the wrong direction on the Double Arrow Metabolism Wellness Index. You'll have gone from a person with agency, someone who takes medicines to feel better or live longer, to someone who has yielded control to a chemical--a $30,000 a year chemical--to do something you could have done better yourself. You'll have succumbed to a philosophy of better living through chemistry.

Maybe Du Pont doesn't deserve this.

Maybe Du Pont doesn't deserve this.

Or do you want to be the person who SAVES thousands of dollars per year by ditching the fancy gas-powered wheelchair so you can propel yourself through space with your own legs and feet and by eating real foods you made with your own hands and eating them when you want, the way you want, and in the quantities you want? Do you want to live by a philosophy of self-determination, where you know that every healthy, happy day you live from now on was of your own making? 

If that life is what you want, then don't try to prevent diabetes with drugs. It can't be done.