By Dr. Kate Scannell, Syndicated columnist
First Published in Print: 02/06/2011
READING FOUR newspapers over breakfast each morning may turn out to be the most effective weight-loss regime in history. Simultaneously digesting the daily news about our food supply's safety and quality, our nation's expanding obesity epidemic, and the pharmaceutical industry's efforts to capitalize on the latter can generate significant appetite suppression.
Last week delivered a remarkable serving of health-related food news. After spreading it all out on the table for the purpose of writing this column . . . well, it left me feeling unsatisfied and hungry for something not on the menu: a coherent logic about healthy eating.
At a bare minimum, this coherency requires two things: We must be able to determine accurately what we ingest, and to think about healthy eating in a holistic manner that extends beyond the context of the dinner plate.
But all too often, we can't even determine what's inside the food we eat. Much of what we actually consume is food marketing, not food nutrition. Too many food products are successfully marketed with narrow health claims ("This could strengthen your left arm bone!") that merely crumble when we take a look at the bigger picture. Unhealthy co-existing ingredients frequently infiltrate those products. Their mysterious chemical additives -- which most of us can't pronounce, let alone plug into biochemical equations -- make it impossible for us to make meaningful calculations of their heath effects.
We rarely satisfy the age-old admonition to purposefullly "eat everything on your plate" simply because that "everything" is regularly obscure or undiscoverable. Hormones used in cattle ranching. Antibiotics soaking poultry farms. Chemicals coating tomato plants. And we barely register the unhealthy environmental tolls exacted by highly-processed food production and industrial food packaging.
So back to the week's food news, beginning with the beef -- or beeflessness -- about Taco Bell. A recent class-action lawsuit was brought against the fast-food chain, alleging that its "seasoned beef" ads misled consumers because the products contained only a fraction of beef. Last week, the company's president responded by publishing several prominent newspaper ads in which he proudly countered that "USDA-inspected quality beef" accounted for 88 percent of Taco Bell's beef filling product. Water, spices, and flavorings accounted for an additional 7 percent, but listed among the remaining 5 percent of the fill was "other ingredients."
As a Taco Bell aficionado, one thing I know is that those "other ingredients" taste awfully good in the context of the whole enchilada. But one thing I don't know is ... well, what the heck is "filling" our bodies, what "other" entity will be coursing through our stomachs, our blood vessels, our livers and brains. On a more philosophical plane, if we truly "are what we eat" how will we ever come to know our true selves?
In related news, the U.S. Department of Agriculture published its new Dietary Guidelines, which effectively toppled our beguiling (but bewildering) "food pyramid." In its stead, we've been given a flat dinner plate and advised to fill half of it with fruits and vegetables. Besides providing us with this more useful visual to help us conceptualize optimal food portions, the new guidelines additionally call for consumption of less fat, salt, and calories.
That all sounds like good and healthful advice. But what's missing from the new guidelines is a strong and authoritative voice that speaks loyally on behalf of our nation's health, despite the self-interested clamor of various food lobbies. Why not say what specific foods people should avoid to remain healthy? Why not update advice about red meat consumption in light of recent studies associating it with increased risks for heart disease, cancer and dying earlier?
By advocating less caloric consumption, the new guidelines also hope to address our national epidemic of obesity and obesity-related chronic diseases. Currently, the majority of American adults and one in three children is overweight or obese, and some experts report that obesity-related direct medical costs now amount to $147 billion per year -- about 9 percent of our total medical spending.
Surely a coherent solution to this troubling nutritional problem entails more than rote instruction to eat fewer calories and exercise more. It also requires a rigorous critique of food marketing in this country, especially when directed toward children. It requires that foods that subject us to risk for developing obesity-related illnesses be accurately identified as health risks. It requires us to rethink massive government subsidies that encourage the manufacture of processed foods and tax write-offs for allied junk-food makers.
Meanwhile, the FDA last week also declined to approve a new prescription weight-loss drug (Contrave) over concerns about its potential cardiac risks. To consider its future approval, the FDA requested the now-forlorn drug company to conduct research to prove that the drug's long-term would not increase the incidence of heart attacks. Just last year, the FDA pulled from the shelf a diet drug (Meridia) it had approved in 1997 after a large European trial associated that drug's long-term use with heart attacks and strokes.
A hefty financial incentive exists for pharmaceutical companies hoping to cash in on the obesity market. And we Americans seem a bit desperate for a pharmaceutical solution to our obesity epidemic. But the irony is that the risks for some obesity-related illnesses have, in fact, worsened as a result of taking these medications. While several diet pills may have proven their abilities to lower cholesterol or blood-sugar levels in blood, none has lowered the actual risk of stroke or heart disease in people.
Serving an even greater irony, it was reported last week that Nestle SA was amping up its "medical food" subsidiary business -- expected, by its CEO, to soon become a multibillion dollar business. The goal is to manufacture and market specific food products to people with various diseases.
Still, because medical foods are not formally classified as "drugs," they do not require the same medical research, efficacy and safety verification, or regulation by the FDA. So here we are -- in our obesity-rid nation developing pseudo-medicinal foods that will not require conventional proof of their health claims or product safety.
Finally, enough Salmonella sightings within food were reported across the country last week to serve as a veritable U.S. geography lesson: in cilantro in Salinas; jerky-type pet treats in Amarillo, Texas; a dairy plant in Minnesota; and a lawsuit in Michigan over contaminate beef -- or "beef filling product" -- tacos. They remind us about the fragility of our food safety system and the healthfulness of prudent food regulation.
And that's the week in food -- for thought, for thought, for thought.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Kate Scannell is a Bay Area physician and syndicated columnist. Her new novel is "Flood Stage."
© Copyright 2011, Kate Scannell
First Published in Print: 02/06/2011
READING FOUR newspapers over breakfast each morning may turn out to be the most effective weight-loss regime in history. Simultaneously digesting the daily news about our food supply's safety and quality, our nation's expanding obesity epidemic, and the pharmaceutical industry's efforts to capitalize on the latter can generate significant appetite suppression.
Last week delivered a remarkable serving of health-related food news. After spreading it all out on the table for the purpose of writing this column . . . well, it left me feeling unsatisfied and hungry for something not on the menu: a coherent logic about healthy eating.
At a bare minimum, this coherency requires two things: We must be able to determine accurately what we ingest, and to think about healthy eating in a holistic manner that extends beyond the context of the dinner plate.
But all too often, we can't even determine what's inside the food we eat. Much of what we actually consume is food marketing, not food nutrition. Too many food products are successfully marketed with narrow health claims ("This could strengthen your left arm bone!") that merely crumble when we take a look at the bigger picture. Unhealthy co-existing ingredients frequently infiltrate those products. Their mysterious chemical additives -- which most of us can't pronounce, let alone plug into biochemical equations -- make it impossible for us to make meaningful calculations of their heath effects.
We rarely satisfy the age-old admonition to purposefullly "eat everything on your plate" simply because that "everything" is regularly obscure or undiscoverable. Hormones used in cattle ranching. Antibiotics soaking poultry farms. Chemicals coating tomato plants. And we barely register the unhealthy environmental tolls exacted by highly-processed food production and industrial food packaging.
So back to the week's food news, beginning with the beef -- or beeflessness -- about Taco Bell. A recent class-action lawsuit was brought against the fast-food chain, alleging that its "seasoned beef" ads misled consumers because the products contained only a fraction of beef. Last week, the company's president responded by publishing several prominent newspaper ads in which he proudly countered that "USDA-inspected quality beef" accounted for 88 percent of Taco Bell's beef filling product. Water, spices, and flavorings accounted for an additional 7 percent, but listed among the remaining 5 percent of the fill was "other ingredients."
As a Taco Bell aficionado, one thing I know is that those "other ingredients" taste awfully good in the context of the whole enchilada. But one thing I don't know is ... well, what the heck is "filling" our bodies, what "other" entity will be coursing through our stomachs, our blood vessels, our livers and brains. On a more philosophical plane, if we truly "are what we eat" how will we ever come to know our true selves?
In related news, the U.S. Department of Agriculture published its new Dietary Guidelines, which effectively toppled our beguiling (but bewildering) "food pyramid." In its stead, we've been given a flat dinner plate and advised to fill half of it with fruits and vegetables. Besides providing us with this more useful visual to help us conceptualize optimal food portions, the new guidelines additionally call for consumption of less fat, salt, and calories.
That all sounds like good and healthful advice. But what's missing from the new guidelines is a strong and authoritative voice that speaks loyally on behalf of our nation's health, despite the self-interested clamor of various food lobbies. Why not say what specific foods people should avoid to remain healthy? Why not update advice about red meat consumption in light of recent studies associating it with increased risks for heart disease, cancer and dying earlier?
By advocating less caloric consumption, the new guidelines also hope to address our national epidemic of obesity and obesity-related chronic diseases. Currently, the majority of American adults and one in three children is overweight or obese, and some experts report that obesity-related direct medical costs now amount to $147 billion per year -- about 9 percent of our total medical spending.
Surely a coherent solution to this troubling nutritional problem entails more than rote instruction to eat fewer calories and exercise more. It also requires a rigorous critique of food marketing in this country, especially when directed toward children. It requires that foods that subject us to risk for developing obesity-related illnesses be accurately identified as health risks. It requires us to rethink massive government subsidies that encourage the manufacture of processed foods and tax write-offs for allied junk-food makers.
Meanwhile, the FDA last week also declined to approve a new prescription weight-loss drug (Contrave) over concerns about its potential cardiac risks. To consider its future approval, the FDA requested the now-forlorn drug company to conduct research to prove that the drug's long-term would not increase the incidence of heart attacks. Just last year, the FDA pulled from the shelf a diet drug (Meridia) it had approved in 1997 after a large European trial associated that drug's long-term use with heart attacks and strokes.
A hefty financial incentive exists for pharmaceutical companies hoping to cash in on the obesity market. And we Americans seem a bit desperate for a pharmaceutical solution to our obesity epidemic. But the irony is that the risks for some obesity-related illnesses have, in fact, worsened as a result of taking these medications. While several diet pills may have proven their abilities to lower cholesterol or blood-sugar levels in blood, none has lowered the actual risk of stroke or heart disease in people.
Serving an even greater irony, it was reported last week that Nestle SA was amping up its "medical food" subsidiary business -- expected, by its CEO, to soon become a multibillion dollar business. The goal is to manufacture and market specific food products to people with various diseases.
Still, because medical foods are not formally classified as "drugs," they do not require the same medical research, efficacy and safety verification, or regulation by the FDA. So here we are -- in our obesity-rid nation developing pseudo-medicinal foods that will not require conventional proof of their health claims or product safety.
Finally, enough Salmonella sightings within food were reported across the country last week to serve as a veritable U.S. geography lesson: in cilantro in Salinas; jerky-type pet treats in Amarillo, Texas; a dairy plant in Minnesota; and a lawsuit in Michigan over contaminate beef -- or "beef filling product" -- tacos. They remind us about the fragility of our food safety system and the healthfulness of prudent food regulation.
And that's the week in food -- for thought, for thought, for thought.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Kate Scannell is a Bay Area physician and syndicated columnist. Her new novel is "Flood Stage."
© Copyright 2011, Kate Scannell