Some mean people hide their cruelty on the internet by making it look like funny stuff. In 2018, pictures of John Lydon went viral that showed a man who was noticeably heavier than the wire-thin, wild-eyed provocateur that the world had seen sneer in the 1970s. The response was quick, mean, and completely expected. There were lots of jokes on social media. The comment sections were too full. The man who used to scream “Anarchy in the U.K.” into the living rooms of the whole country was suddenly made fun of for his waistline.
The irony is hard to miss. People attacked Lydon for many years because he was too strange, too loud, too dangerous, and too political. It looks like the unforgivable crime was just getting older and heavier in public.
The pile-on was telling for a generation that says it supports bodily autonomy and doesn’t trust quick judgment. It was perfectly acceptable for people who would never make fun of a celebrity’s surgery or diet to share photos of Johnny Rotten from 1977 and now, as if his physical changes were proof of some kind of moral failing.
Most people didn’t look into Lydon’s life because those pictures didn’t show it. He had been living a quiet life for years. When those pictures from 2018 came out, he was already taking care of his wife, Nora Forster, full-time, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Lydon has mostly stopped making music lately to take care of his wife.
There were no tours, parties for the industry that went late into the night, or carefully planned public appearances. A man was sitting in a Malibu house carrying a weight that a gym membership couldn’t help him lose while watching the person he loved most slowly fade away. He was also taking care of his medications and medical appointments.
Once Lydon found out his wife, Nora Forster, had the illness, he took care of her for years. He talked about it openly when he could, to bring attention to it and not hide what the disease looked like on the inside. He told an interviewer, “I know it’s going to get worse and worse until it’s really, really bad, but we’re facing it with honor.” That’s not the way a man who has given up would talk. That person knew that dignity is about being present, even when it’s the hardest thing in the world to stay in the room.
His wife, Nora Forster, was the lead singer of the bands Sex Pistols and Public Image Ltd. She died in April 2023 at the age of 80 after a long battle with Alzheimer’s disease. That’s when Lydon talked about what happened in a way that was almost too honest. “I’m getting in shape.”
And there was a time when they drank nonstop for three months. He didn’t try to make himself feel better or put a spin on it. He said that the brandy didn’t work. In the end, he looked at himself and said, “This is stupid.” It made him gain weight but never got him drunk. He stopped because of this.
The picture that comes to mind from his own words is not of a man who gave up on himself. The person is dealing with their grief in the most honest and human way possible: they reach for something nearby, find it to be inadequate, and then slowly and painfully choose something better.
John said he’s gained a lot of weight and has become “moobs.” He admitted that he had been drinking a lot. He said it himself, with the same sharp awareness of himself that has always marked his best work. There is no PR gloss or redemption story that is neatly wrapped up for a morning TV show.
When Tim Sommer wrote in InsideHook in 2018 that people were worried about Lydon’s health, that wasn’t the main reason why they were freaked out by his weight gain. It was because he turned into a mirror. Rock stars should either age gracefully or not at all.
They should still be slim at sixty, still be recognizable from the album cover, and still be a blank slate for people who bought their records when they were seventeen. People in the audience turn as soon as they finish that task. It’s not about you. It’s just that people don’t like being told that time moves at the same speed for everyone.
It seems like the conversation was always about the audience and never really about Lydon as we watched it all happen. He had already been through more than most people could handle: the Sex Pistols, starting Public Image Ltd., decades of truly experimental music, and a marriage that lasted almost 50 years despite a lot of stress and public scrutiny.
Lydon had a hard year in 2023. He lost Nora, and on December 11, his longtime friend, producer, and personal manager John “Rambo” Stevens died at the age of 66. Within months of each other, two of the people he cared about most died.
By the middle of 2023, Lydon was talking about going back on stage with Public Image Ltd. He said that the tour was what brought him back to himself. He talked about how hard it is for him to deal with his grief and said he’s working on himself after drinking a lot after Forster’s death. Actually, that was kind of defiant. Not in a performative punk way, but in the quieter, more durable way that comes from making it through something that would have killed most people.
Why did John Lydon gain weight? That was never really the point. The story was about grief, caring for others, being alone, and refusing to give up. People who laughed at the pictures might never understand that. However, it is important to say this because the man who sang about chaos and broken institutions turned out to be much more interesting and human in his later years than his critics ever saw.
FAQs
Q1: What caused John Lydon’s weight gain?
Grief, months of heavy drinking, and microwave meals after his wife’s death.
Q2: Who was Nora Forster?
Lydon’s wife of nearly five decades, who died of Alzheimer’s in 2023.
Q3: How did Lydon respond to fat-shaming online?
He addressed it bluntly himself, admitting he’d “wrecked himself” after Nora’s death.
Q4: Did John Lydon get his health back on track?
Yes — he stopped drinking and returned to touring with Public Image Ltd.
Q5: Why did people react so strongly to Lydon’s appearance change?
Because it shattered the illusion that rock icons age differently from everyone else.