The women at the rogue WeightWatchers meeting in Norwalk, Connecticut, were livid. For years they’d faithfully gathered, like about a million other members, at WeightWatchers locations across the United States to conduct the weekly rites: step on the scales, share the latest wins and woes, and swap tips on how to hack points or resist that happy-hour margarita.

Some had been coming for 15 years; two had been on and off WeightWatchers since the 1970s. They’d lost 21, 25, 28 and 36 kilograms; they’d supported one another through retirements, children leaving for college and deaths in the family. Then in March, WW International shut down thousands of in-person locations, leaving the group to either make an hour-plus drive to a meeting across Long Island Sound or, worse, assemble online.

Bloomberg Businessweek