Cooks, Kooks, Culture and Calculus: a Lesson in How We Treat Nutrition

Imagine if we treated some other subject -- say, for instance, calculus -- the way we treat nutrition.

There would be a new theory about how to learn calculus every day. If you don't want to learn calculus, then pick something else. The argument works just as well for biology, or algebra or Spanish, or ... whatever.

Every day, online, on the air and in print, we would hear about shiny, brand new ways to learn that subject. But that would be the least of it. Everything we would hear every day would say or imply that everything we heard yesterday was rubbish.

"You are going to learn algebra ... like THAT? Preposterous!" The fact that millions actually had, historically, learned algebra just like "that" would be conveniently overlooked. And yes, this could pertain to history, too, while we're at it.

So, there would be a new way to learn the subject in question every day. And it would repudiate every prior way.

But it gets better (or rather, worse). We would also learn that no actual learning is required. We could "acquire" our expertise in algebra, or biology, or history or calculus with no effort, no time and no study. Some magical formula would apparently be involved. There might be an elixir, or pixie dust, too -- but those would be veiled in shadow. The basic promise would be: Apply the magical formula, and reap the benefits. Become a calculus god! I -- and only I -- can show you the way!

Of course, we don't welcome a new Messiah or indulge in any such magical thinking -- about education, work or money; raising our children, planning for our retirement or even planning a family vacation. We know that every worthwhile thing takes effort. We know that what sounds too good to be true inevitably is. We know that offers to get rich quick are generally an attempt by a huckster to get rich quick at the expense of a sucker.

We are, of course, open to innovation. The best ways to teach math do evolve. There are noteworthy innovations in the teaching of language, from the Rassias Method to which I had privileged access as an undergraduate (and French major) at Dartmouth, as a student of the great Professor Rassias himself; to Rosetta Stone, accessible to us all. But such innovations build on what came before, and never involve throwing the whole history of education under the bus.

But then there's health, weight and nutrition. A new fad is promulgated weekly, if not daily, and hyped on the morning shows, with glib disregard for the competing drivel hyped with equal enthusiasm last week, or yesterday. Fat is bad; no, carbs are bad; no, fructose is bad. Meat is the root of all dietary evil; no, wheat is the root of all dietary evil. You must juice, fast or combine foods just so. Eat more saturated fat. Or maybe not.

All this exploitative hooey would be bad enough if we actually were clueless about the basic care and feeding of Homo sapiens, and the reliable road to more years in life, more life in years. We are not. The evidence for the basic theme of optimal nutrition is clear and compelling, corroborated at the population level by the enviable health of Blue Zone populations. What we know but don't apply is enough to eradicate fully 80 percent of all chronic disease. Instead of enjoying that stunning improvement to the human condition, we dither and bicker, and buy a new batch of baloney every week. I do, honestly, despair at times for a species so willing to be benighted and outright silly.

If we treated calculus the way we treat carbs or calories, no one would ever learn it. We would be too busy arguing over the best magical way to teach it.

Health, weight and nutrition are just as meritorious as, and more intimately relevant to more of us than, all these other subjects. They, too, are products of imperfect methods and knowledge that can be improved. But they are also products of established methods and considerable knowledge that can be applied right now, to stunningly good effect. If any other legitimate field of inquiry does not invite experts, pseudo-experts and non-experts alike to reinvent our knowledge and methods every day, and disparage everyone who came before -- why does nutrition? Maybe it just doesn't matter as much to us. After all, it's only the construction material for the growing bodies of children we love.

We don't sanction a daily dose of hogwash about how best to learn calculus with no investment of time, effort or study. But we tune in routinely to just such nonsense about health, weight and food. We squander the opportunity to use what we know. We allow far too many cooks and kooks into the kitchen, with the inevitable outcome: a culture awash in spoiled stew.

David L. Katz, MD, MPH, FACPM, FACP, is the founding director of Yale University's Prevention Research Center; president of the American College of Lifestyle Medicine; editor-in-chief of the journal Childhood Obesity; chief science officer for NuVal LLC; and director of the Integrative Medicine Center at Griffin Hospital. A clinician, researcher, author, inventor, journalist and media personality, Dr. Katz is the recipient of numerous awards and recognitions, including an honorary doctoral degree and widely supported nominations for the position of U.S. Surgeon General. He has authored nearly 200 scientific papers and chapters, 15 books, and hundreds of on-line columns and blogs -- with a resulting following of well over a quarter million people. A two-time diplomat of the American Board of Internal Medicine, and a board-certified specialist in preventive medicine/public health, he is recognized globally for expertise in nutrition, weight management and the prevention of chronic disease. He has been acclaimed by colleagues as the "poet laureate" of health promotion.