Diet-ribe

One of my very best college friends, Ruffles, has a habit of getting completely engrossed in certain activities. Some might say to the point of obsession. One month it might be playing guitar, the next two it will be meditation, and then it will be poker. As part of this pursuit, he seeks to gain as much knowledge as he can about the activity, including all the theoretical background behind excelling at it. I remember during sophomore year, he spent hour after hour watching internet clips of the best Super Smash Bros. videogame players in order to learn how to perfect complicated moves.

Beginning during senior year, and continuing since his graduation, Ruffles embarked on a new quest: eating healthy. While undeniably a more worthwhile pursuit than Super Smash Bros., he has approached it in much the same way: absorb as much theory as possible and then identify the expert or experts he believes have the right ideas, and follow them. The result: Ruffles has embraced a form of what is often called the "Paleodiet." With apologies to Loren Cordain, the Weston Price Foundation and all the other proponents Ruffles encourages me to read, its basic dietary principle is this: eat like people did before agriculture. Or, at the very least, before commercial agriculture. That translates to a diet high in animal protein and vegetables, and low in sugar and carbohydrates. Raw milk and wild game are in, bread and beans are out.

There are good and bad things about the paleodiet. I could (if I wanted to expend a lot of effort) give you an exhaustive list of peer-reviewed studies analyzing the health ramifications of the lipid hypothesis, saturated fat, antinutrients and complex carbohydrates. Personally, I think that while some aspects of the paleodiet are intriguing (and it is certainly romantic to imagine returning to our hunter-gather roots) its benefits are unproven. But I think that ultimately, it's beside the point and doesn't offer help to anyone trying to eat healthily.

What gets lost in all the arguments about the various nutritional properties of this protein or that enzyme is the big picture: We live on a planet containing 6 billion people that are steadily getting less healthy. If you live in America, "less healthy" probably means obese and cancer-ridden. If you live in Zimbabwe, it probably means starving and tuberculosis-ridden. What we eat is far from the only thing making us this way, but it definitely plays a big role. And with a problem on this scale, doesn't it make more sense that the flaw lies less in caloric ratios then in our food production system?

Advocates of very specific diets are fond of citing different "native" populations that subsist almost entirely on diets high in their nutrient of choice, like Eskimos on animal protein or South Indians on carbs. They always mention how low their rates of cancer, heart disease, etc. are. What recieves less attention is, in my opinion, the biggest difference between us and them: these peoples aren't getting their food chemically treated, plastic wrapped and shipped around the world. It's pretty simple: if you can find it nearby in nature, and you prepare it yourself, it's probably gonna be good for you.

My expert of choice in the crazy food debate is Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore's Dilemma, In Defense of Food, and Food Rules. His basic premise is what I've been driving at above: eat local, natural things that you've actually had to put thought and effort into finding and preparing. And while the words "thought" and "effort" strike fear into everyone's heart (including mine), consider that the way we eat right now is arguably a cause of such well-publicized crises as health care, energy/environment, and even jobs. Just in case you needed some extra pressure next time you go to the grocery store.