The "Subway Diet" is a clever advertising campaign, featuring Jared Fogle, a young man who supposedly lost 200 pounds by skipping breakfast and consuming a 6 inch Subway turkey sub for lunch and a 12 inch veggie sub, chips and a diet coke for dinner. According to Subway, he did no exercise.
Reality: Any diet that restricts caloric intake is going to lead to weight loss, no matter the food choices made. The problem with the "Subway Diet" approach is that it is far too narrow in its focus and not sustainable in the long-term. It does not teach balanced nutrition that can be adapted to a normal diet once the weight loss goal is reached. The bottom line with the Subway Diet is that it is purely a marketing campaign meant to instill the idea in the consumer that Subway sandwiches are a healthier choice than other fast food options.
P.T. Barnum would love Jared Fogle. Mr. Fogle gained fame as the man who says he went from 425 to 190 pounds eating two Subway sandwiches every day for a year. Subway trumpets him in its commercials much as Mr. Barnum paraded Jumbo the elephant. I'm sure the blue jeans Mr. Fogle carries with him to show how much weight he has lost are headed for the Smithsonian.
Subway has mercilessly exploited him by teasing overweight Americans with the pipe dream that they, too, can lose 200 pounds by waddling over to Subway and eating a foot and a half of bread everyday.
The chain is spotlighting a number of Fogle copycats who claim they followed his trail to Subway and fast-fooded their way to slimness.
I don't blame Mr. Fogle for capitalizing on his notoriety. It's the American way. But he knows firsthand how desperate people can be to lose weight.
The latest Subway marketing images show Sean O'Kane in a pair of blue jeans that stretch three feet away from his body, giving the impression Mr. O'Kane lost all that weight. But the fine print tells us the jeans are Mr. Fogle's, not Mr. O'Kane's. Mr. Barnum is definitely smiling on the Subway ad writers.
Mr. Fogle skipped breakfast for a full year, eating only a six-inch turkey sub for lunch and a 12-inch veggie sub for dinner, with chips and diet soda.
What exercise did Mr. Fogle use to balance his diet? According to Subway, "Nothing."
Renee Curran, a nutritionist at the University of Michigan, tells me Mr. Fogle lost weight because he was consuming fewer calories.
"Regardless of where your calories come from, you must eat less calories than you burn to lose weight," she says. "That is a simple law of physics which cannot be broken. Excess body weight cannot disappear by combining any particular types of food."
That's the bottom line. There is nothing magical about Subway food, but it worked for Mr. Fogle because he ate it in limited amounts.
"He could have a diet consisting of four-pound bags of M&M's everyday and meet the same caloric intake he had with the Subway Diet," Ms. Curran says.
Every time you see Mr. Fogle and his newly trim buddies munching on subs, curb your enthusiasm. This is not a feel-good story. This is a worst-case scenario of a business turning fear and loathing into profit.
I wanted to talk to Mr. Fogle to ask him how he feels about his career as a corporate shill, but Subway's corporate headquarters won't set up an interview. They refer you to Mr. Fogle's agent, Mike Mead, who informed me Mr. Fogle is protecting his interests by doing interviews only in cities he visits. He objected to my description of Mr. Fogle as a Subway spokesman, and said his client does not endorse a Subway Diet plan.
Mr. Mead's words do not mesh well with the newest Subway commercial, which shows Mr. Fogle and his disciples cavorting on a beach, as background singers say, "We owe it all to the man who showed us the light."
I can't imagine what secrets Mr. Fogle has to hide, so Mr. Mead must be protecting him from the fact that Mr. Fogle's fame is as empty as a loaf of white bread from Subway.
I hope he maintains his weight loss and continues touring for Subway. Eventually he will meet enough desperate people and hear enough sad stories to realize he and Subway are offering false hope -- a promise that cannot be kept.
Contact columnist MICHAEL MILLER at mmiller@bizjournals.com
