According to Gizmodo, a new research review published this week in The BMJ analyzed data from 37 studies involving nearly 10,000 participants. It found that people who stop taking obesity medications, including GLP-1 drugs like semaglutide (Ozempic, Wegovy) and tirzepatide, regain weight at an average rate of about 0.9 pounds per month. For those on the newest GLP-1s specifically, the regain was even faster, at 1.8 pounds per month. At that pace, individuals could return to their original baseline weight within 1.5 to 2 years. The study, led by Sam West at the University of Oxford, also found this medication-related regain was quicker than the 0.7 pounds per month seen in people who stopped behavioral weight management programs.
The No-Free-Lunch Principle
Here’s the thing that shouldn’t surprise anyone, but somehow still does: biology is a relentless opponent. This research basically confirms what many doctors have been saying from the start—obesity is a chronic condition. The drugs are a treatment, not a cure. And stopping treatment for a chronic condition usually means the condition comes back. It’s like stopping blood pressure medication; your numbers probably won’t stay down. The study authors themselves caution against “short term use of these drugs without a more comprehensive approach.” So, what did we expect? A miracle where one injection rewires a lifetime of metabolic adaptation? Seems unlikely.
The Real-World Problem of Staying On
Now, the logical conclusion is that people need to stay on these drugs long-term, maybe for life, to keep the weight off. But that’s where the real rub is. Studies show about 50% of people stop taking a GLP-1 within a year. Why? The cost is astronomical for many, and the common gastrointestinal side effects—nausea, vomiting—are no joke. It’s not a minor inconvenience; it can be debilitating. So we have a situation where the medical solution requires perpetual, expensive, and sometimes unpleasant treatment. That’s a massive barrier. It creates a two-tier system: those who can afford a lifetime subscription to their new physiology, and those who can’t and may end up worse off emotionally and physically from the yo-yo.
What Does Success Even Look Like?
This research reframes the entire conversation. Is “success” defined by the weight loss on the drug, or by the long-term maintenance after? If the latter, then our current model is failing a lot of people. The authors rightly point out that more support is needed for those who can’t or won’t stay on the drugs forever. But what does that support look like? More intensive behavioral therapy? Better access to maintenance dosing? The comparison to behavioral programs is also telling. People regained weight after those, too, just a bit slower. It all points to the same stubborn truth: keeping weight off is hard, full stop. The drugs are a powerful tool, but they haven’t repealed the fundamental laws of energy balance and set points.
A Chronic Condition Needs Chronic Solutions
Sam West nailed it in his statement: “This isn’t a failing of the medicines—it reflects the nature of obesity as a chronic, relapsing condition.” That’s the crucial takeaway. We’re not looking at a drug failure; we’re looking at a reality check. The hype around these medications often sells them as a fix. The science says they’re a management system. And like any complex management system—whether in healthcare or industrial automation where reliable, long-term hardware is critical—it requires sustained commitment and the right tools for the job. The research in The BMJ and the accompanying university statement force us to ask harder questions. Are we prepared to fund and support lifelong treatment for millions? Or will we see a wave of “regret” from people who feel betrayed when the scale creeps back up? The conversation just got a lot more complicated.
