SkinnyTok and the toxic resurgence of glorifying thinness

RTÉ News​

23-04-2025

SkinnyTok is a social media trend filled with unregulated diet advice and worrying mantras. Kate Demolder writes. TW: disordered eating content, eating disorders.
Noticed an uptick in weight-loss-related content on your TikTok algorithm? You're not alone.
A recent slew of reports, along with anecdotal evidence, has indicated that content centred around losing weight and disordered eating has penetrated young people's algorithms, which harks back to pro-ana (short for pro-anorexia, a subculture that promotes eating disorders) content from the early aughts.
This content comes in myriad forms; from creators with large followings who share videos on why "being skinny is a form of self-respect" to smaller accounts who speak in clipped sentences with mantras splashed across photos of thin models like "don't reward yourself with food, you're not a dog," or "a skinny body is rented, not owned".
Naturally, this shift is concerning, but it's also not entirely new. Though the 1990s are chastised for being the birth of thinspo (thin-inspiration content), recent reports suggest that external forces have never been more punitive when it comes to thinness.
Back in 2022, a report from a US nonprofit, the Center for Countering Digital Hate, found that TikTok appeared to be pushing videos about disordered eating to 13-year-old users within as quickly as three minutes of their joining the platform.
A 2024 study, which asked the question " Does TikTok contribute to eating disorders?" showed results that "algorithms for users with eating disorders (ED) delivered 4,343 per cent more toxic ED videos."
Officially, TikTok does not allow content that promotes or glorifies unhealthy or harmful behaviour, policing this through human and AI moderation. In 2022, the platform announced changes to its community guidelines, aimed at cracking down on content promoting "disordered eating".
It has since regularly updated these guidelines, stating that they remove all content "promoting disordered eating and dangerous weight loss behaviors (sic), or facilitating the trade or marketing of weight loss or muscle gain products."
Today, when one types 'thinspo' into the search bar, a prompt says: "You're not alone; If you or someone you know is having a hard time, help is always available" alongside a resources tab and contact details for a national eating disorder charity.
Still, according to its users, the platform is peppered with thinspo-related content. Creators have gotten around platform-led barriers by purposefully misspelling words related to thinness, such as "skinni" instead of "skinny" (a favourite of creator Liv Schmidt, whose account was disabled by TikTok back in September) or insisting their methods are health-centric in place of disordered.
This has been bolstered somewhat by content about Ozempic, Mounjaro and other GLP-1 medications, which were created as a diabetes drug and are now prescribed to people whose health has been impacted by their weight.
The popularisation of this conversation – Ozempic has become common parlance when discussing weight loss and celebrity culture – has seen to further demonise weight gain, with conversations around bigger bodies returning to the bullying, painful rhetoric we saw in the 2000s.
Look no further than the recently-banned 'chubby filter,' which saw users virtually try on a bigger body for entertainment.
TikTok is largely known as a social platform for teenagers, with about 60 per cent of users being Gen Z. This makes the issue of pro-ana content on the app particularly worrying.
"We know that young people, since Covid-19, have been presenting with eating disorders or disordered eating in higher numbers," Carol McCormack, a Clinical Nurse Manager on St Patrick's Mental Health Services' Willow Grove Adolescent Unit, a Mental Health Commission-approved centre, which provides mental health treatment for ages 12–18.
"And while we can't say that social media is the sole reason why eating disorders develop, people would often reference that they would engage with quite a lot of content online that can negatively impact body image and lead to body comparison and body dissatisfaction.
"They also notice that once they interact with or even look at one piece of content, they're fed more and more. Such is the nature of the algorithm, but when you're still developing your sense of self and identity, that can influence in a really impactful way."
In 2021, the Academy for Eating Disorders published an open letter asking social media platforms to reduce online harms. Since then, it's unclear how much has changed.
According to Research and Policy Officer of Bodywhys, Barry Murphy, the entire social media ecosystem as we know it would have to change before pro-ana content could too. "It's part of a wider landscape that's been going on on social media for some time," he says.
"Things like outfit of the day videos, skincare tutorials, curated selfies, fitness progress updates… People might enjoy the storytelling aspect, but they all hark back to the fixed idea that there is one way we should be, physically and culturally."
This idea is not new, he says. "These trends are likely cyclical, but it's hard to tell the precise origins. Pro-eating disorder content has been around for years, long before broadband and smartphones. Today, there are just more trigger points, like a few years ago when a trend suggested that your waist shouldn't be bigger than the width of an A4 page."
Eating disorders are serious, often life-threatening conditions. They can be developed for any number of reasons, and yet misconceptions about what causes them still persist. As such, exact triggers are hard to pinpoint. But it's clear that social media can play a role. In 2021, a report found that Instagram failed to protect those at risk for eating disorders from pro-ana messaging.
"This content slips through the cracks," Murphy says. "It's hard to say definitely whether platforms are doing enough, but it's our experience that people are frustrated with their annual reports that show how they're policing such content, when much of that content still comes up for people who don't need it.
"What's happening here is a gap between what's written on paper and what's happening in reality. And in reality, this content has been popping up for at least half a decade."
The best and perhaps only way to ensure content won't show up on your algorithm again is to ignore it. This, of course, is easier said than done. The fact remains that the regulation of pro-ana content online is largely left up to the individual, as opposed to the fastest-growing social media platform on the internet to face. However, resources exist. And there are people there to help.
"Platforms like Cybersafe and Webwise are brilliant for those trying to be more aware of what's going on out there and how to engage with it well," McCormack says. "Aside from that, the only thing parents or guardians can do is create an open dialogue about content like this, and try to potentially either dispel what they're looking at, or discuss what well-being is. As well as clarifying what is healthy, and what is not."