In our piece on what actually happens when someone sues over their weight, two cases ran on the same federal statute and came out opposite ways. A district court in Louisiana held that severe obesity can be a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act whether or not anything caused it. Four years later the Eighth Circuit held that it cannot, unless something did.
Same law. Different courthouse. Different answer.
That is not a quirk of two cases. It is a map, and until you know where you are standing on it, nothing about the federal route makes sense. So we read every federal appeals court decision on the question in the court’s own text, rather than taking the quotations that these decisions make of each other. Two things came out of that which the standard summary does not contain.
A note on framing before the map. Everything below is the law’s vocabulary, not ours. To use the ADA at all, a fat person has to be re-described as medically impaired, which is a demand the statute makes and we do not endorse. We report what the courts have held. Nothing here is legal advice, and nothing here is a claim about anybody’s health.
The threshold nobody gets past
There is no federal law in the United States that names weight as a protected characteristic. So the only federal door is the ADA, and specifically its “regarded as” prong: it is unlawful to act against someone because of “an actual or perceived physical or mental impairment,” whether or not that impairment limits a major life activity (42 U.S.C. § 12102(3)(A)).
The word that decides everything is impairment. Congress never defined it. The EEOC did, by regulation: a “physical impairment” is “[a]ny physiological disorder or condition, cosmetic disfigurement, or anatomical loss affecting one or more body systems” (29 C.F.R. § 1630.2(h)(1)).
So the fight is over four words. Does being fat count as a “physiological disorder or condition” by itself, or does it only count when some other physiological disorder produced it? If the second, then a fat person in good health is outside the statute, and a fat person who is unwell is inside it. Honesty about your own body becomes the thing that loses the case.
The map
Four circuits have held that a physiological cause is required.
The Second Circuit, in Francis v City of Meriden, No. 1663, Docket 96-9610, decided 17 November 1997: “obesity, except in special cases where the obesity relates to a physiological disorder, is not a ‘physical impairment’ within the meaning of the statutes.”
The Sixth Circuit, in Andrews v Ohio (1997) and then EEOC v Watkins Motor Lines, No. 05-3218, decided 12 September 2006: “to constitute an ADA impairment, a person’s obesity, even morbid obesity, must be the result of a physiological condition.”
The Eighth Circuit, in Morriss v BNSF Railway Co., No. 14-3858, decided 5 April 2016, holding that this survived the 2008 amendments to the ADA because those amendments “did not affect the definition of physical impairment.”
The Seventh Circuit, in Richardson v Chicago Transit Authority, Nos. 17-3508 and 18-2199, decided 12 June 2019: “We join the Second, Sixth, and Eighth Circuits.”
One circuit has an open question, on the record. The Ninth Circuit said so in as many words in Taylor v Burlington Northern Railroad Holdings, No. 16-35205, order of 17 September 2018: “the ADA’s coverage of obesity is an open question in this circuit.” It then certified the state-law version of the question to the Washington Supreme Court, which answered in 2019 that under Washington’s own anti-discrimination law “obesity always qualifies as an impairment” (444 P.3d 606, 608). The Ninth Circuit disposed of the appeal on that state ground in an unpublished memorandum of 30 January 2020, vacating summary judgment and sending the case back. Which means the federal question it flagged is still open today.
One circuit has a plaintiff verdict, under a different statute. Cook v Rhode Island Department of Mental Health, Retardation and Hospitals, First Circuit, decided 22 November 1993, upheld a jury award of $100,000 to a woman who had twice worked the same job with a spotless record, passed the pre-hire physical, and was refused rehire anyway. But Cook was brought under section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, not the ADA, and it turned on expert testimony at trial that morbid obesity is a physiological disorder. It is not a holding that fatness is covered. It is a holding that this plaintiff proved it was, with witnesses.
Seven circuits have decided nothing. The Third, Fourth, Fifth, Tenth, Eleventh, D.C. and Federal Circuits have no appellate ruling on the question. Not a leaning, not an implied position: nothing. District courts inside them have gone both ways.
The first thing the summaries leave out: the doors are ajar
Every one of the four “no” circuits wrote an escape hatch into its own opinion, and the citation chains between them quietly file the hatches off.
Francis is the clearest. Immediately after the sentence everyone quotes, the Second Circuit added that “a cause of action may lie against an employer who discriminates against an employee on the basis of the perception that the employee is morbidly obese,” citing Cook approvingly. When Morriss cites Francis as agreeing with it, that qualification is not in the quotation.
In Watkins, Judge Gibbons concurred separately to say that “it is possible that morbid obesity is a disorder that by its very nature has a physiological cause,” which “would preclude the need for a plaintiff to put forth evidence that his individual case was caused physiologically.” She rejected the EEOC’s claim only because the agency had offered no evidence for it.
Richardson, the most recent, is the most explicit of all. Its footnote 10: “We need not decide whether, on a particular evidentiary showing, extreme obesity alone can be considered a physiological condition because Richardson presented no such evidence.”
Read together, four courts have said no to the argument as it was actually made to them, and at least three have said they were not deciding the broader question. The rule is narrower than its reputation. What has never been produced in these cases is evidence — and Cook is the one case where it was.
The second thing: it comes down to a comma
Here is the part that is hard to believe until you see the texts side by side.
When the Second Circuit quoted the regulation in 1997, and the Sixth in 2006, it read: “Any physiological disorder, or condition, cosmetic disfigurement, or anatomical loss.” With a comma after disorder. With that comma, “condition” stands on its own, and a condition needs no physiological cause. Without it, “physiological” governs both words, and it does.
That comma was the whole of the plaintiffs’ textual argument for two decades, and Judge Gibbons dismantled it in Watkins by going back to the rulemaking: when the EEOC adopted the definition in 1991 it said it was taking the Rehabilitation Act’s wording, and that wording — at 34 C.F.R. § 104.3 and 45 C.F.R. § 84.3 — has no comma. Neither does the text the EEOC printed in the Federal Register at the time. Her conclusion was that the comma in the published Code of Federal Regulations was a scrivener’s error.
Check the regulation today and the comma is gone. The current text (eCFR, Title 29, current as of 31 August 2026) reads “[a]ny physiological disorder or condition,” and the section’s own source note records exactly one amendment since 1991: 76 FR 16999, 25 March 2011 — the rule implementing the 2008 amendments.
Which produces the irony this whole article is really about. Congress amended the ADA in 2008 to widen it, saying the definition of disability “shall be construed in favor of broad coverage.” The regulation written to carry that out is the one in which the single punctuation mark that fat plaintiffs had been arguing from disappeared. Every court since has read the tidied-up sentence and found it plain.
One honest caveat, because the courts do not agree with each other about their own paperwork. The Ninth Circuit in 2018 dated the comma’s removal to 2009. The Eighth Circuit in 2016 said the only post-amendment change to this definition was the addition of the immune and circulatory body systems, and did not mention the comma at all. Those two accounts cannot both be complete. We tried to settle it in the 2011 rule itself; the Federal Register document ran past what we could retrieve in full, and we are not going to reconstruct the date from secondary sources. So: the comma was there in 2006, it is not there now, the Code records one amendment in between. Checked 3 September 2026.
What the map is actually good for
Not for predicting anything. We are not going to tell you how any circuit would rule, and none of this is advice about a particular case.
What it does show is why the federal detour is a bad road even when it is the only one. Whether the same conduct by the same employer is reachable depends on which of thirteen appellate jurisdictions the courthouse sits in; in seven of them there is no answer at all; and in the four with an answer, the answer turns on a distinction — caused by a disorder, or not — that has nothing to do with whether the employer discriminated.
That is the argument for naming weight in the statute rather than routing it through disability law, and it is the practical difference between the routes we traced in the lawsuits piece: the plaintiff under a city ordinance that lists weight never had to explain her body to anyone. For where weight is actually named in law, see our tracker of weight discrimination laws and the cornerstone on weight discrimination.
Sources: all decisions read in the courts’ own texts. Regulation text and amendment history from the electronic Code of Federal Regulations, checked 3 September 2026.










