Weight Watchers Rented a Podcast Network to Vouch for the Drug It Sells
Weight Watchers launched The Weigh In with Dear Media to strip the stigma from the GLP-1 prescriptions that now carry its growth. The host is the company's own head of content, which means what it rented was distribution, not belief.
Sir John Crabstone
Weight Watchers has launched a podcast about the drugs that emptied its meetings. The Weigh In, made with the network Dear Media, sets out to strip the shame from a GLP-1 prescription. Weight Watchers spent sixty-three years putting it there.
The company filed for Chapter 11 in May 2025 to shed $1.15 billion of debt. No rival counting system did that to it. A drug did, by making the counting unnecessary. The show takes its name from the weekly weigh-in, which is the ritual the drug made optional.
The commercial motive is not obscure. Revenue fell 14.2% in the second quarter, but clinical subscribers rose 55.7% to 197,000 while behavioural subscribers fell 24.6%. Those 197,000 are under eight per cent of the membership and almost a quarter of the revenue. Every line still growing at Weight Watchers runs through a pharmacy.
The audience for the argument is large. Eleven per cent of American adults currently take a GLP-1 for weight loss, Gallup found this year, against three per cent in 2024. Fifteen per cent have taken one at some point. Nobody in that group needs persuading that the drugs work.
They need persuading that saying so is safe. Sixty-nine per cent of current and former users are unlikely to admit to using one, in an April survey of 1,210 American adults. It was commissioned by Virta Health, which sells a rival treatment; the interest is worth noting, and the number is worth more. Weight Watchers is selling into a category its own buyers decline to name.
The trade read of the launch is top-of-funnel marketing, which it is. Its host, Samhita Mukhopadhyay, is blunter: “Most people don’t even know that we sell [GLP-1s].” A brand this well known cannot get one sentence about itself into circulation.
The detail the coverage skipped is whose mouth the argument comes out of. Mukhopadhyay is Weight Watchers’ own head of content, hired last year from The Meteor. One guest is Julie Rice, hired last August to revive a workshop business that, at the time, ran 20,000 meetings a month. Dear Media is not lending Weight Watchers a voice. It is lending an address.
Dear Media’s interest is simpler. Mark Mullett, its president of global entertainment, told Glossy that the network’s wellness slate does “really, really well” and that the audience is leaning in. That is a statement about inventory. Nobody at Dear Media has vouched for anything.
The argument is sound; Weight Watchers is the worst available witness for it.
The show will probably find its listeners. It will hand them a prescription Weight Watchers writes and a drugmaker prices. Destigmatising the drug is the easy half of the work; persuading anyone that the company selling it still matters is the other.