Fascinating. Well written. Science-based. Highly entertaining. And a completely different perspective on diet fads and fantasies. Most refreshing. Prescriptions about what to eat and what not to eat have a lot in common with the dictates of religious cults, and the followers are no less fervent. Our beliefs in (or hopes for) diets, like our beliefs in supernatural forces, are largely based in magical thinking. It’s so hard not to buy into the myths, in false dichotomies, and the moralistic categorization of some foods as natural and good, while others are unnatural (processed!) and evil. “Once you see enough of the same archetypal myths and the same superstitions,” Levinovitz says, “new dietary claims start to look a lot like flood myths.”
We really don’t know what an ideal diet would be, or for whom. Nutrition research is notoriouisly hard to do. It’s easy to scoff at fad diets, but Levinovitz also makes clear that there’s precious little evidence for most of what we think we “know” about healthy eating — or, for that matter, little evidence behind many of the solemn pronouncements of the medical establishment, including some made by the American Heart Association and the CDC. I’m not saying, nor is Levinovitz, that we shouldn’t trust healthcare authorities, but we should also cultivate a healthy skepticism and a return to common sense.
Oh, and don’t worry. The book is not all about gluten. That’s one chapter. Levinovitz recounts the history of fears about MSG, gluten, fat salt, and sugar — the same story told, the same mistakes made, time after time. It can be seen as pretty depressing. but fortunately Levinovitz is humorous and irreverent. Speaking of which, I heartily recommend the audiobook. The reader, Barry Press, is excellent. I think he made it even more entertaining than it already is.
This is one story recounted in the book (though I found it in an article that Levinovitz wrote for Slate.com.). "Once, at a farmers market, I asked a juice vendor whether her product counted as “processed”—a vague, unscientific epithet that gets thrown around in discussions of what we should eat. After a moment of shock, she impressed upon me that processing fruit into juice doesn’t result in processed food. Only corporations, she insisted, were capable of making processed food. Not only that, but it wasn’t the processing that made something processed, so much as the presence of chemicals and additives.
Did the optional protein powder she offered count as a chemical additive, I pressed? A tan, gaunt customer, eager to purchase her cleansing smoothie, interrupted us. “It’s easy,” she said, staring at me intensely. “Processed food is evil.”
At least she was honest. Processed food is evil. Natural food is good. Evil foods harm you, but they are sinfully delicious, guilty pleasures. Good foods, on the other hand, are real and clean. These are religious mantras, helpfully dividing up foods according to moralistic dichotomies. Of course, natural and processed, like real and clean, are not scientific terms, and neither is good nor evil. Yet it is precisely such categories, largely unquestioned, that determine most people’s supposedly scientific decisions about what and how to eat."