What if we have it backward? What if the 310-pound man trying to jam into the middle seat and the 225-pound woman breaking into a sweat halfway up the stairs aren't the undisciplined miscreants of modern American life but the very emblems of it?
What if fatness, even obesity, is less a lurking danger than a likely destiny? What if the surprise isn't how many seriously overweight people are out there but how few?
Those are among the unsettling questions raised, at least implicitly, by "The Weight of the Nation," an ambitious multiplatform project that takes the full measure of our girth, its genesis and its toll.
A book with that title will be published next week by St. Martin's Press, and it boils down information from a more sweeping, four-part documentary to be shown next month on HBO, which produced it with input from the Institute of Medicine, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the National Institutes of Health. HBO also will make the documentary available on many websites, including its own.
Distilling many decades of research, "Weight" chronicles how we've eaten our way into disease and sometimes despair. About two-thirds of American adults now qualify as overweight or obese, according to the CDC.
But here's the scariest (and trickiest) part, which deserves much more attention than it has received and must be factored into our response: We may be doing nothing more or less than what comes naturally to us. Our current circumstances and our current circumferences may in fact be a toxically perfect fit.
Following in the heavy footsteps of "The Omnivore's Dilemma," "The End of Overeating," "The End of Food" and much else, "The Weight of the Nation" makes an especially persuasive case that gluttony isn't Americans' problem. Agriculture and abundance are.
Over the past century, we became expert at the mass production of crops like corn, soybeans and wheat -- a positive development for the most part.