Jocko Underground: Is Taking Weight-Loss Drugs "Cheating"?

When a Shot in the Arm Becomes the Start of a New Life

He calls it cheating. He is a father, a long-term partner, and a site supervisor who has wrestled with weight his whole adult life. After countless failed diets and constant self-reproach, he tried terzepotide and watched the numbers on the scale fall — twelve pounds in a short span, more energy at work and at home, and the mental bandwidth to think beyond food. The relief was immediate but complicated: pride mixed with a nagging sense that the success wasn’t entirely earned.

Obesity as a medical problem, not a moral failing

The debate that swirls around pharmaceutical weight-loss aids often reduces to two competing narratives: willpower versus treatment. One voice in this conversation reframes obesity squarely as a medical issue — a condition that can cascade into diabetes, cardiovascular strain, and diminished mobility. In that light, the choice to pursue medical help is less moral surrender than pragmatic triage.

Less invasive than surgery, more than a shortcut

Bariatric surgery has been the dramatic option for people who could not lose weight through conventional means, but surgery brings real procedural risks. Newer medications offer a less invasive pathway, one that many practitioners and patients see as safer and more reversible. That comparative safety is part of why some people opt for drugs: as a bridge back to health rather than a permanent crutch.

How medicine and behavior intersect

What these medications do most reliably is change behavior. They blunt appetite, decrease cravings, and realign the body’s physiological signals, which in turn simplifies decisions that previously required Herculean willpower. The pharmacological nudge can create momentum: once food becomes less of a compulsion, other habits — movement, sleep, and focus — fall into place.

The domino effect of small wins

Small behavioral triggers can multiply. A seemingly trivial change — adopting a dog and walking it 45 minutes a day, for instance — can initiate a cascade of energy, self-efficacy, and further healthy choices. Those small wins release dopamine and alter identity: you become someone who moves, who makes choices consistent with a healthier life. Medication can function as one such trigger, catalyzing a virtuous loop.

Designing a plan that lasts

Success rarely arrives without a plan. Temporary pharmacological assistance needs a strategic roadmap: medical testing to understand metabolic and thyroid health, tracking of metrics that matter, and a deliberate exit strategy from the drug. The hard truth is that when medication ceases, old behaviors can resurface. Preparing for that reality — training habits, building routines, and strengthening discipline — is what converts a temporary boost into sustainable change.

• Get evaluated: Rule out or treat underlying metabolic or thyroid conditions with testing, not guesswork.
• Track behavior: Log meals, sleep, and movement to identify patterns and triggers.
• Create micro-habits: Use small, consistent actions that are easy to sustain and compound over time.
• Plan the transition: Anticipate how appetite, mood, and energy will shift when the drug is stopped and prepare coping strategies.

Reframing “cheating” and cultural expectations

The moral guilt that pets the idea of pharmaceutical assistance often comes from a narrow cultural story: health = virtue, effort = worth. That story ignores physiology and context. A useful reframe is to treat medication as a tool — like a brace, a hearing aid, or corrective eyewear — that restores function and enables meaningful activity. The only true cheating occurs when rules are broken in a game that has explicit constraints; treating chronic disease with medicine is not a game.

Discipline and support, not shame

Labels like “cheating” tend to sap motivation. A more productive posture recognizes the temporary help while insisting on personal responsibility: measure outcomes, watch for side effects, and cultivate the habits necessary to maintain gains once the intervention ends. Community, accountability, and clear metrics turn transient success into a durable lifestyle change.

Practical steps for someone restarting life

When the physical capacity returns — more energy for training, greater mental focus at work, restored presence at home — the opportunity is to reintegrate meaningful practices. Martial arts, strength training, and consistent movement can be both functional and identity-shaping. Building rituals around training, sleep, and nutrition makes the body’s new capabilities stick.

Measure, then iterate

Concrete measurement lets you iterate. Track weight and body composition, but also track performance metrics: training frequency, energy levels, and mood. When numbers drift, adjust routines before they become crises. The point is less perfection than responsiveness: if something moves the needle positively, sustain it; if it doesn’t, re-evaluate quickly.

Final thought: Medicine can be a beginning rather than an end, an instrument that restores capacity and dignity. The moral imagination that casts pharmaceutical aid as illegitimate robs people of pragmatic, life-saving options. When help — whether a drug, a trainer, or a neighbor with a leash — produces the ability to show up for family, work, and craft, it becomes a tool of agency, not an emblem of failure.