Tim Spector, The Independent
Days after it was announced that the cost of Mounjaro weight-loss jabs in the UK would treble in September, sales of Ozempic had surged by 600 per cent. So, too, had shares in Novo Nordisk, the Danish pharmaceutical company that produces Ozempic and Wegovy, while those of its US-based rival, Eli Lilly, the company behind Mounjaro, fell dramatically following Donald Trump’s clampdown on the so-called “foreign freeloaders” who rely on the US to pay more for medicine.
None of this is surprising — especially when at least 500,000 Brits are currently taking Mounjaro and Wegovy via private prescription. For many, the prospect of going cold turkey or forking out up to £330 per dose (up from £122) is not a pleasant one: they face a choice between managing their weight and their long-term health, and staying on top of their finances. Health secretary Wes Streeting has already started his plan to roll out Mounjaro on the NHS, but it was a tall order even before this latest rise in cost. The National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE) had warned that the plan would take three years to fully implement so that 3.4 million people in England would be eligible for free jabs.
The cost rise will not affect the NHS supply, but the idea that its resources will be further burdened by an influx of private patients wanting subsidised medication is farcical, particularly when healthcare professionals tell me regularly that they’re already unable to prescribe these drugs to those who desperately need them.
Medically speaking, there is no known danger when it comes to people switching from Mounjaro to, say, Wegovy or Ozempic. However, Mounjaro, a tirzepatide-based drug, is up to 32 per cent more effective than its semaglutide counterparts, hence the demand to date. Switching could mean longer treatment programmes and less instant results, but currently, these alternatives have a much lower price point. Of course, you would still be at the mercy of pharmaceutical companies and world leaders. Who’s to say that in a few months, Novo Nordisk won’t follow suit and alter its prices, potentially to the point where only the wealthy can afford these medications, and the goal of combating the UK’s obesity crisis becomes even less achievable?
That doesn’t mean that these weight-loss drugs should be made widely available free of charge, though; by having a cost associated with them, there is more incentive for patients to stick to their treatment plan and commit to longer-term results. Nor do I think these treatments should be a short-term fix — a “get-thin-quick” scheme, as it were. Really, we should be looking at microdosing plans in the UK and providing lifestyle support to help set people up for life. One such scheme is currently being offered by Vitality health insurance, which announced back in February that it would be providing discounted jabs for customers along with therapy and nutritional guidance. It’s not just about temporarily curbing appetites; it’s about giving people the tools and information to change their habits and relationships with food, which is also something we strive for at Zoe.
One of the most effective alternative options for those living with clinical obesity is bariatric surgery, in terms of both results and cost. While the idea of going under the knife might not be appealing to everyone, such procedures are fairly straightforward, can be carried out in one day, and cost on average between £6,000 and £20,000, depending on whether the treatment is public or private. Studies have also shown that bariatric procedures have helped around 75 per cent of people to keep the weight off for 7 to 10 years.
Even so, maintenance is key. At a very basic, but crucial, level, adjusting our diet is paramount. As outlined in my books, reducing meat consumption, eating a full rainbow of fruit and vegetables, and cutting out ultra-processed foods is vital. Add fermented foods to your diet, too, and focus on better gut health — it not only improves weight, but has been proven to increase longevity and cut the risk of disease.
Price aside, more incentive-based programmes are needed if we’re ever going to reduce obesity figures in the UK. The NHS should be partnering more with private firms to deliver such resources, which clearly it doesn’t have the capacity to do on its own.