Eating. It’s the most basic human need, right up there with breathing and arguing on the internet. But we all tend to overdo it, especially around the holidays, when the phrase “biting off more than you can chew” is not a metaphor but a brutal, self-inflicted reality.
Now if the weight gain arrived immediately, we’d change our habits. But there’s that sinister lag. It’s only weeks or months later that you notice. Your belt becomes less an accessory and more of a tourniquet. And there’s no denying it anymore once you step on the scale (the most judgmental piece of technology since the invention of the lie detector).
Don’t let anyone mislead you – being overweight is not good. Smoking is still the leading cause of preventable death in the United States, but obesity has waddled into second place. GLP-1 receptor agonists like Ozempic are making a dent in those stats but they’re not miracle drugs. Most people only see about a 10-15% drop in body weight over 6-12 months.
So we’re back to dieting, which nobody loves. This is where we take something as universally beloved as eating and make it feel like jury duty. “Time to log your dinner!” Log my dinner? Yeah, nothing screams “I’m living my best life” like turning dinner into a data entry job.
Isn’t there a better way? Actually, yes.
Jud Brewer, a professor at Brown University, developed a method for helping people quit smoking that was five times more effective than the previous gold standard therapy. And this system had a curious side effect…
The average person who quits smoking gains 10-15 pounds in the process. But the people using Jud’s method didn’t. In fact, they lost weight. He was aiming for the lungs and ended up hitting the stomach too. The same method that helped his subjects ditch nicotine also helped them resist overeating as well. And a follow up study by Ashley Mason at UCSF showed this system reduced craving-related eating by a whopping 40 percent.
How does it work? By weaponizing mindfulness, that trendy, soft-glow therapy concept we use to justify buying expensive candles. I know, I know, mindfulness is the eye-roll-inducing buzzword of the decade. But it works. Ready to drop some pounds?
Jud Brewer, MD PhD, is a professor at Brown University. His book is “The Hunger Habit: Why We Eat When We’re Not Hungry and How to Stop.”
Let’s get to it…
Are You Really Hungry?
For most of human existence, hunger was a simple, biological signal. Your stomach growled, and you ate something that didn’t come with a toy.
But now that food is plentiful and cheap, we’ve lost touch with our bodies. Eating often isn’t really about hunger anymore; it’s about pleasure. Food is like that friend who always knows what to say to cheer you up, except it’s better because it doesn’t talk back and you can eat it.
“Feed me!” your stomach demands, like a petulant child king. But is it really your stomach talking? Jud says we should be skeptical. Bring your awareness to your gut and ask yourself a simple question: “Am I actually hungry?”
What you’ll often notice is that the cravings aren’t coming from a growling stomach. They’re coming from your head. Your tummy isn’t saying “hungry”, it’s your brain saying “tasty.” Your body is like a buddy-cop movie where your stomach’s the by-the-book detective, and your brain is the loose cannon.
Want a stark illustration? Try “the broccoli test.” Next time you swear you’re hungry ask yourself, “Would I eat plain broccoli right now?” If you were truly starving, of course you would. But if you turn up your nose at this question, you don’t want sustenance — you want tasty.
(For more on how to lose weight, click here.)
Okay, our brains are playing ventriloquist with our bellies and that’s why our bellies are growing. How do we stop this?
Willpower Is Unreliable. Change Reward Value.
The Orbitofrontal Cortex (OFC) is the part of your brain that is basically an internal Yelp reviewer for life’s experiences. It judges everything that happens to us and gives it a score. When you need to decide what to do, the OFC checks its database and says, “Broccoli? Thumbs down. 2 out of 10. French Fries? Hell yeah. 11 out of 10. Grab the ketchup.”
This is why willpower often fails. You’re constantly fighting the OFC’s accounting and it’s going to marshal every instinct and emotion to try and get you to pick the higher value reward. Offering the OFC cake or celery sticks is like the choice between hundred-dollar bills or rocks. “Think I’m gonna go with the hundred-dollar bills, thanks.”
Problem is, we’re usually running on autopilot and this means we default to the OFC’s scoring without even thinking.
The only way to change your behavior over the long term? Yeah, we need to get in there and change the OFC’s little Excel spreadsheet so the rewarding thing isn’t as rewarding anymore.
(For more on good nutrition and how to eat right, click here.)
Now the battle to change the reward value in your OFC sounds more challenging than trying to convince a die-hard New Yorker that L.A. has better pizza. How do we do it?
Pay Attention
How did Jud’s system get people to stop smoking? A key part of it was paying attention to what cigarettes tasted and smelled like. Getting people to look past the nicotine buzz for a second and notice that, uh, smoking is kinda gross. Changing the OFC’s score.
The first step is getting off autopilot and really being aware. Paying attention while you eat forces you to face the truth. You’re not eating because you’re hungry; you’re eating because you’re bored, stressed, or just because it’s there. The more we pay attention to bad habits, the more disenchanted we become. And the more disenchanted we become, the easier it is to let them go.
Ask yourself, “Why am I reaching for food right now? Am I hungry — or just bored or sad?” This can help us stop snacking when we don’t need to.
But maybe you are hungry – and once you get started you overdo it. It quickly shifts from being about addressing hunger to just entertaining ourselves. You start eating something — let’s say, a cheeseburger. The first bite? Incredible. It’s fireworks, parades, the reason we invented taste buds. Second bite? Still solid. Third bite? It’s like, Okay, I get it. You’re a burger. But because most of us aren’t paying attention, we keep shoveling it in, like a coal miner trying to hit a quota. We’re oblivious to the fact that somewhere around bite number four, our taste buds checked out.
Meanwhile, your stomach is down there sending you polite messages like, “Hey, we’re full down here. Maybe wrap it up?” But the brain is like, “IGNORE THAT LOSER. WE’RE NOT QUITTERS.” And before you know it, you’ve crossed the line from comfortably full to “Why did I do this to myself?”
If you actually slow down, you start to notice that food stops being truly fun pretty quickly. And yet, because you weren’t paying attention, you finished the whole thing and now you’re lying on the couch, wondering why your stomach feels like it’s holding a town hall meeting and breathing has become a strenuous activity. Take a second to really note this result.
Now your OFC isn’t going to update its ledger based on one meal. It’s like your brain is a shifty lawyer, always objecting to the negative memories. “Your Honor, let the record show that the pizza was delicious, and we have no recollection of any subsequent stomach pains or vows to eat nothing but salads for the rest of the week.”
Keep at it. Pay attention while you eat and notice when the reward starts to drop off.
Also note how you feel after you eat. You want to extend the timeline of the evaluation. Yes, the first burrito was wonderful. Laying on the couch clutching your stomach thinking “life is pain” after the fourth burrito was not wonderful. The problem is, your OFC doesn’t seem to be logging this part of the experience. You need to grab it by the metaphorical collar and scream, “LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME.” Pay attention. Notice.
With time, this works. Jud studied it with over a thousand people and found that when we pay attention, reward values shift. The OFC updates its spreadsheet. You just need to stick with it. The research shows after 10-15 times of paying attention and noting, reward values plunged.
If you’re skeptical, keep in mind you’ve done this before – it just wasn’t deliberate. You used to stay up late or drink too much and eventually your OFC started including the next day’s hangover or exhaustion in its scoring. And that’s when you started saying, “Nope. Just one drink. This isn’t fun anymore.”
(To learn how exercise can help you lose weight, click here.)
So we know the secret and we know it works. But there’s still a gap. An emptiness. We want something. That’s natural. We gotta close the loop…
Make A Better Offer
Okay, you’ve gotten to the point where you know eating that entire sleeve of Oreos is not all that rewarding. But how do we trick our brains into thinking that a plate of quinoa and steamed broccoli is the culinary equivalent of a deep-fried pizza?
The good news is you’ve already done the hard work. The disenchantment has reduced the desire to keep eating past what you need. But your OFC’s default response to fruit is probably, “Meh, two stars. Tastes like chores.” But you can change that.
What do you need now? More attention. Rather than grumbling as you scarf down fruit instead of donuts, actually notice the sweetness of that orange. You dialed down the need for junk food, now dial up the appreciation for quality calories.
And, again, make sure you’re paying attention to how you feel after some fruit. Have you ever finished a mango and thought, “Wow, I regret that”? No, because it doesn’t happen. You finish a mango and think, “I am a person of culture and refinement. I should probably start meditating and learning French.” Compare that to a giant bowl of cheese puffs, which makes you feel like you need activated charcoal and a three-hour nap.
(To learn how to live an overall healthy lifestyle, click here.)
Okay, we’ve covered a lot. Let’s round it all up – and learn what Jud found about how to beat cravings…
Sum Up
Here’s how to use mindfulness to lose weight…
- Are You Really Hungry?: We’ve turned our stomachs into emotional dumpsters and amateur therapists. Every mood now comes with a recommended food pairing. We need to distinguish the messages coming from our brains from the ones coming from our stomachs. Ask yourself, “Would you eat broccoli?”
- Willpower Is Unreliable. Change Reward Value: Healthy food? To your orbitofrontal cortex, that’s like offering a Metallica fan a ticket to an Enya concert. You gotta change the reward value of food if you ever want this process to be easy and automatic.
- Pay Attention: Eating is not a race, and your plate is not trying to escape. Slow down. Or at least try not to eat the napkin. Pay attention. Record the full results in your memory bank — not just the taste of the pizza, but the full experience, including the part where you feel like a python that swallowed a beach ball.
- Make A Better Offer: Once you’ve accepted that junk food isn’t all you thought it was, pay attention and note that good food can taste… pretty good. This isn’t culinary Stockholm syndrome; it’s recalibrating your OFC by paying attention. Make it a better offer and close the loop on healthy eating.
Late-night cravings. We all get them. You tiptoe around, foraging for snacks like a burglar in your own home. And your body is going to turn every one of those temptations into a permanent squishy souvenir.
Jud’s solution? An acronym: RAIN. Recognize, Allow and Accept, Investigate, and Note.
Recognize: Don’t let that craving slink into your brain, set up shop, and start rebranding itself as a valid idea. “Oh, I’m just a little thought about cake. You can trust me.” No, you can’t. You have to notice the craving. Just by taking a second to consciously recognize it you’re stealing some of its power.
Allow and Accept: Don’t try to karate chop it out of your mind, because that just makes it dig in harder, like a tick with opinions. Acknowledge and accept it.
Investigate: Get curious about the craving. Instead of letting the feeling consume you, study it like a painting in a museum. Notice where the feeling is coming from in your body (probably your head, not your stomach.) By investigating it, you’re stepping out of the drama and into the role of a detached scientist. “Oh, so you’re telling me I’m craving chocolate because I had a rough day? Fascinating. But also, no.”
Note it: Put some mental distance between you and the craving. Don’t think, “I’m hungry.” Think, “There’s a hungry feeling. It’s over there trying to persuade me.” Abstract it. Watch it try and influence you like a bad salesman. “Oh, it’s telling me I deserve a treat. Cute trick, pal.”
Let a little time pass and sit with it. Its power will diminish. You’ll find you can hit the “mark as read” button on the craving like it was a spam email.
Give these tips a shot and, with time, you’ll see changes. The scale becomes your new best friend. It no longer screams in terror as your approach. You say things like, “I enjoy salads,” without a hint of irony. You’re not sure when this shift happened, but you suspect it’s part of some adulting process no one warned you about.
You’ll catch yourself thinking, “This stuff called ‘fruit’ isn’t half bad,” and then immediately look around to make sure no one heard you.