“Damn good advice on how to work out, lose weight, and eat like a caveman!”

Although “caveman” is a give-away, this cover story promising the secret to a hot bod would seem better-suited to Cosmopolitan or Glamour than the April edition of Esquire.

The rise of male-targeted articles such as these only reinforces the fact—already seen in the gender unspecific proliferation of diet coke and low-carb lifestyles—that weight-maintenance is no longer female-only territory. Men, previously considered immune from society’s diet culture, are becoming increasingly (and dangerously) preoccupied with body image issues.

Pressure to conform to normative body types is certainly no longer restricted to athletes. Inside Abercrombie and Fitch, customers are greeted by a male chest—no face, no smile, just a chest. If a G.I. Joe from 1964 was blown up to full size, it would have a 32-inch waist and a 12-inch biceps. Today’s G.I.Joe has a 29-inch waist inches and 16 1/2-inch biceps.

Undoubtably, modern culture subjects men to an increasing level of sexual objectification. While their metabolisms may give them a temporary boost in the battle of the bulge, the new male “ideal bodies” perpetrated by the media are magnifying pressures on all appearanceconscious guys.

The first book devoted to male body image issues, The Adonis Complex: The Secret Crisis of Male Body Obsession, was published only four years ago. The book’s authors coined the term “The Adonis Complex” to encompass the widespread phenomenon of compulsive male body maintenance behavior, which ranges from muscle dysmorphic disorder (an obsessive desire to get bigger) to anorexia, bulimia and steroid abuse.

Currently, it is estimated that five to ten percent of eating disorders occur in males. Of males with eating disorders, 20 percent identify themselves as gay or bisexual. This figure is high, considering that gays and bisexuals accounts for only three to five percent of the total male population. However, Dr. Roberto Olivardia, co-author of The Adonis Complex, says this statistic may be skewed since “gay men are more likely to talk and seek treatment about their eating disorder.” Olivardia has found that even out of the straight men he treats, “very few of those heterosexual men will tell their friends, mothers or their wives.”

Regardless of their sexuality, today’s men are facing a body image dilemma.

According to a 1997 Psychology Today study, 43 percent of men are dissatisfied with their overall appearance, and 52 percent are dissatisfied with their weight. The article also cites 17 percent of the poll as saying they would give up more than three years of their lives to achieve their weight goals.

Has this so-called “Adonis Complex” infiltrated Harvard’s male community?

Sam G. Herbert, ’04, observes that there is a “difference in body types between now and a while ago—definitely different.” The vast majority of Harvard male undergrads we spoke to for this story emphasized the role of eating healthily and working out in maintaining their image. Tips for avoiding the freshman fifteen rolled in: “Drink hard liquor, not beer” (Matt T. Bosch ’07) and “stop thinking of food as anything you eat to stop being hungry or bored, and start exploring Harvard’s dining hall” (Jim L. Stillwell ’04-’06).

For some, however, “eating healthily” can turn into an obsessive pursuit of perfection.

Overweight as a child, David C. Foster ’06 began his struggle with anorexia in seventh grade. At his worst point, in tenth grade, he weighed less than 120 pounds at 5’10. “I’ll never forget that,” Foster says. Now, he still weighs less than he did in sixth grade. He claims that “going to the gym is addictive once you start.” Foster considers himself fully recovered from anorexia, but he still watches what he eats and tries “to stay healthy by being active.” Even so, he admits, “at Harvard it’s hard to find time to be active, and easier to not eat.”  

Kristina N. Vetter ’04, co-chair of Eating Concerns Hotline and Outreach (ECHO) combats the idea that Harvard is somehow to blame. She writes in an email, “Harvard does not ‘cause’ eating disorders in its students, but many students bring eating disorders or the tendency toward them to this campus. I do think that this college is populated by highly talented and often competitive students whose desire to excel in the classroom, on the athletic field, and in extracurricular activities is often paralleled by a similar commitment to ‘improve’ their bodies.” Olivardia agrees, adding that it is “more likely to see [eating disorders] in your upper tier-schools.”

Jordan B. Woods ’06, political chair of the Bi Gay Lesbian Transgender and Supporters Alliance (BGLTSA), agrees that food can play an abnormal role in the lives of Harvard students. “It’s easy to really binge eat here,” he says. “I think a lot of people do use eating or not eating as a way to deal with stress and what they’re going through.” In the gay community, Woods says he’s found that eating disorders can go hand in hand with the “emotional distress that happens with the coming out process.”

While he concedes that Harvard has ample services available to address eating concerns—namely ECHO, Undergraduate Health Services, and the Bureau of Study Council—Woods complains that male eating issues are “really not taken seriously.” He says that “a misconception is that eating disorders affect only women.” This notion compounds the obstacles men face to seek help for their eating issues. “There is an additional layer of feeling that as a man he shouldn’t be suffering,” says Olivardia.

Woods also warns that even though the new awareness of male eating disorders is a positive development, eating concerns are not limited to just females, or just males. “We can’t have this binary way of approaching eating disorders. In terms of transgendered men, when they transition, those eating issues can transfer over too.”

Historically, male athleticism has been a haven for bizarre eating habits. “It was easy to lose the first ten,” says Nick S. Downing ’07 about “making weight” for the freshman lightweight rowing team. The 5’11 rower arrived at Harvard weighing 173 pounds. To compete, Downing had to slim down to just over 150 pounds. “Everyone has to lose weight,” he says. “You’re all going through this together.” While he admits to feeling hungry most of the time, Downing’s dedication to the sport makes it worth it. “[Losing weight] adds another dimension,” he claims. Furthermore, Downing doesn’t think that his skill at the art of dropping pounds will dominate his life. “I think I’ll be fat by the time I’m 30,” he says.

Wrestlers also face pressure to lose weight so they can compete in lower weight classes, using dangerous techniques like exercising vigorously while wearing rubber suits—to dehydrate themselves before weighing in. These practices have led to several deaths of collegiate wrestlers in recent years.

What can you do if you or one of your male friends is struggling with an eating disorder?

Olivardia emphasizes the importance of reaching out for help. “Treatment can be very effective,” he says. “The longer you wait, the longer it is going to be to treat.” If you suspect someone has a problem, “emphasize the other things you like about this person, besides their appearance” or to confront them and point them towards ECHO or Harvard’s mental health services.

“I think the real issue is promoting dialogue so male eating disorders are taken seriously in and of themselves,” says Woods. Without this dialogue and new tactics to target the silent sufferers of male eating disorders, Harvard risks exacerbating a frightening and deadly trend.