Different historians have different theories on just when leading nations began to dictate the ideal size and shape for their citizens. Some claim it started with the anti-smoking campaigns that forced smokers out of their houses, bars, restaurants and cars and into the middle of deserted fields when they needed a cigarette.

But most say that the real catalyst was the Japanese waistline law.

And all agree: it was done in the name of health and the reduction of medical costs.

As you may know, the Japanese waistline law imposed a maximum allowable waist size for all those between the ages of 40 and 74. It was set at precisely 33.5 inches for men and 35.4 inches for women. If you were bigger, you got dieting advice and warnings and even fines somewhere down the road.

Following the Japanese example, many countries started with their own programs of waist management. Not all were successful.

Harvey Kettle, director of health for central Missouri, decided to crack down on the fatties in his area. He installed sensors in front of refrigerators and if the sensors decided you were too fat, the refrigerator would not open. It seemed like a good plan except that determined eaters started using pry bars.

Harvey’s next move was aversion therapy. The sensors read your weight at the fridge door and if you were too heavy and touched the handle you got a jolt of electricity.

This also had to be discontinued when fat people began going to hospitals with advanced cases of electric shock. It was known as the taser effect.

Many other systems for forced waist reduction were tried. Perhaps the most successful were police spot checks where motorists were pulled to the side of the road and weighed.

If you were over the limit you were given a stalk of celery and ordered to drive home. The spot-check system also nailed a few drinkers, but by then drinking was considered less of a crime than overeating.

The drive to slenderize was hard on restaurants, of course. Head waiters learned to estimate the waist sizes of all patrons; and if you were on the portly side, you would suddenly find that the table you had booked was no longer available and maybe you would like to drown your sorrows in the salad bar. And at drive-ins you had to pass over a weigh scale before you got to order. If it transpired that you were too heavy, you would be forced to leave the line.

Understandably, there was considerable opposition to the new health regime. Determined eaters formed into groups and trekked deep into the woods to consume french fries and jelly rolls. Some even smoked between snacks. However, the fat police usually tracked down these bands with the help of potato-sniffing beagles.

As you might expect, this move to impose health by forcing people to shape up (or down, I guess) soon expanded into other areas.

One country decided that people who were too tall formed a health risk. Not only could they be prone to curvature of the spine but they required oversized hospital beds. Thus a free program was offered — strongly offered — to all those over six feet, six inches tall: a simple operation to cut a couple of inches out of shin bones and bring the offender down to something more normal.

This program was thought to be a success until it was noticed that a lot of the now-shortened patients tended to blow over in high winds due to issues of balance.

At the moment, this program is reported to be on hold.

Meanwhile, having addressed the health problems caused by smoking and overeating, a number of nations are looking at further ways of reducing medical costs. One way would be a standard diet, strictly enforced.

This is favoured by many but a splinter faction — growing in strength — proposes rigidly enforced birth control. This measure, they argue, would solve all these medical and human problems in the course of a single generation.

I don’t know how these scenarios will play out. I wish I could give you some answers but I must leave now to have my waist measured. Last time out, it was 37.5 inches — and I expect a stern lecture. IE