It feels like every few months there’s a news item about a food
ingredient or additive that isn’t what it seems, or has some property newly
revealed to be controversial.
The offending ingredients are many and varied. Last summer,
word got out that a certain brand of yogurt was giving its strawberry-flavored
products a nice red color by using a dye made from insect parts. Predictably,
the teaser description on every news broadcast preyed directly on the
sentiments of the ever nutrition-conscious public by saying something to the
effect of “Coming up, are there bugs in your yogurt?! Find out after this
break!” Many of the headlines covering the issue were similarly
sensationalistic, proclaiming that the company “[uses] insects to make yogurt.”
Of course, the actual segments/articles reporting on the issue
backed off a bit in conveying the more complete (and much less
noxious-sounding) details: the company uses carmine, a dye made from the bodies
of cochineal beetles, in certain selections amongst its yogurt offerings.
I’ll admit that my initial reaction was something akin to “Ew,
really?!” But then I wondered whether such revulsion is warranted. We eat all
sorts of other animals and animal by-products, but so-called “civilized”
Western society has made it taboo to consume anything smaller than a tennis
ball if it used to crawl, fly, or slither around. I’m definitely not in favor
of New York City cockroaches being added to food for extra crunch. But the
story got me thinking about the health implications of the “bug-dye” as
compared to other synthetic additives.
A quick glance at any nutrition label reveals certain
ingredients which sound like actual food, and others that seem more fitting for
the shelf of some mad scientist’s windowless basement laboratory. In what came
as something of a surprise to me, a lot of these chemical-y sounding substances
are actually derived from corn.
The fact that a food or food input consists of substances found
in nature doesn’t necessarily make it ideal for human ingestion. A good portion
of Michael Pollan’s book Omnivore’s Dilemma discusses how corn is the
basis for most commercially-produced foods, but “as far as our bodies are
concerned... it’s still a biological novelty.”
The most controversial corn-derived food additive of recent
years is, of course, high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS). Critics are quick to
point out the correlation between the advent of the substance and the meteoric
rise in consumption (from zero to 60 pounds per year) for the average American.
In combating the criticisms directed towards HFCS, the corn lobby
points out that the product “contains no artificial or synthetic ingredients or color additives and meets the FDA requirements for use of the term ‘natural.’” While this may initially seem like an endorsement of sorts, the FDA has never
actually enacted a formal definition for “natural” foods. This has less to do
with lack of oversight and results mostly from the subjectivity of such a term.
After soliciting public comment on the issue in 1993 and receiving widely
differing suggestions for formulating a definition, the agency opted to avoid
rulemaking and simply reiterated the status quo. Namely, the FDA deemed “natural” to
mean “that nothing artificial or synthetic (including all color additives regardless of the source) has been included in, or has been added to, a food that would not normally be expected to be in the food.”
The result is the following disclaimer appearing in the “Food
basics” area of the agency’s website:
"From a food science perspective, it is difficult to define a food product that is 'natural' because the food has probably been processed and is no longer the product of the earth. That said, FDA has not developed a definition for use of the term natural or its derivatives. However, the agency has not objected to the use of the term if the food does not contain added color, artificial flavors, or synthetic substances."
This loose definition has most recently come under scrutiny as
pertains to the use of genetically modified organisms (GMOs). These are usually
plant-based ingredients that have been bioengineered at a molecular level to
achieve a desired outcome or characteristic. Food producers argue that use of
GMOs does not preclude the use of “natural” labeling, since such ingredients
fall outside the above prohibitions; concerned citizens counter that
genetically modified ingredients have been altered from their natural state in
a way that requires disclosure. So far, the FDA has punted on this issue as
well, citing the absence of data indicating that GMOs or bioengineered
ingredients pose a threat to food safety. The agency has developed draft
guidance, recommending mere voluntary labeling for such products.
Several California plaintiffs have sued General Mills, alleging deceptive marketing of certain products marketed as “100% natural” despite the
presence of genetically modified ingredients. GM
has countered that the subjective definition of “natural” moots the
plausibility of the plaintiffs’ claims. The company argued that the labeling is
simply marketing puffery, and not actionable since a reasonable consumer would
obviously be aware that granola bars are processed in a factory and are not
found in nature. However, the judge found that the “100% natural” claim is not
merely a general assertion, and could lead a reasonable consumer to believe that the products contain entirely natural ingredients. The
opinion references a Federal Trade Commission directive warning marketers that
they must be able to substantiate representations of “natural” product
composition.
Nonetheless, most regulation and case law also recognize that
context matters. For example, marketing of “premium all-natural flavors” has
been ruled a generalized assertion, insufficient to support a claim of
deception regarding a product’s health benefits. In a suit involving the
supposed natural composition of ice cream desserts, the court held that “no reasonable consumer is likely to think that ‘Original Vanilla’ refers to a natural ingredient.”
On a somewhat more troubling note, certain substances are
apparently FDA-approved additives despite outright knowledge that they cause
negative health effects. In Omnivore’s Dilemma, Pollan describes how a
popular fast-food meal item contains small amounts of an anti-foaming agent
(which keeps air molecules from forming during frying) known to be a carcinogen.
The same item also contains a preservative which is derived from butane and
deadly in slightly larger amounts.
From my experience in pharmaceutical products liability, I’m
aware that the FDA tolerates a certain threshold of side effects and adverse
events when approving the production and sale of drugs and medical devices.
That said, pharmaceuticals are utilized under the supervision of a doctor by
individuals experiencing a specific health problem - ideally one which poses
greater risks than those presented by the medical remedy. Food, by contrast, is
something we all need on a regular basis. Hence, to me, it seems slightly
unreasonable to allow even trace amounts of anything known to be harmful in
larger quantities.
Regardless, the food industry is a capitalist enterprise, and
thus its participants are concerned with costs first and our health second.
HFCS, for example, is cheaper to produce and use than cane sugar, which has
allowed beverage makers to produce more soda at a lower cost, encouraging
consumption. Thus, even if HFCS isn’t necessarily any “worse” than other types
of sugar, its advent has contributed to increased intake of processed,
high-calorie drinks and the corresponding increase in negative health outcomes
associated with the same. As Pollan’s investigation reveals, large-scale
commercial food processing entails breaking foods down into their component
parts and reassembling them in a manner that encourages consumption in large
quantities. The consequence of this scheme is the increased incidence of
Type-II diabetes, obesity, and other effects of habitual overeating.
The backlash against HFCS has also given way to inquiries into
the effects of artificial sweeteners. Another news item from the last several
months declared that beverages sweetened with chemicals like aspartame,
sucralose, and saccharin may actually increase the risk of Type-II diabetes,
obesity, cardiovascular disease, and other metabolic dysfunction.
The underlying 2013 article, published on July 10 in Trends in Endocrinology and Metabolism, is a review of various studies involving artificial sweeteners spanning the past
several decades. One such study implicates “a type of cognitive process in
which knowledge that an artificially sweetened beverage that is perceived to be
‘healthy’ grants permission to over consume other ‘non-healthy’ foods” - i.e.,
people who consume artificial sweeteners wind up overcompensating for calories
saved by consuming foods that are less nutritious overall. Other studies
indicate that regularly ingesting artificially-sweetened foods alters the
brain’s ability to connect sweet tastes with caloric intake, which leads people
to overeat because they don’t feel sated by reasonable portions.
The most recent development in the evolution of sweeteners
involves low- or no-calorie products which promote their origination in nature
as a testament to their health and purity. Some are derived from stevia, a
South American plant. Interestingly, the Food basics section of the FDA’swebsite disclaims that neither whole-leaf stevia nor extracts from the plant
have been approved for use in the United States, due to concerns about the
sweetener’s effect on the reproductive, cardiovascular, and renal systems, and
on blood sugar control. (Considering that the FDA allows trace amounts of carcinogens in our fast food,
these concerns must be serious.) One brand advertises stevia as the main
ingredient in its “natural” zero-calorie sweetener. Meanwhile, its website
reveals that erythritol, a type of substance known as a “sugar alcohol”, is
actually what gives the product its “bulk.” Sugar alcohols occur naturally in fruits and other plants, though they
obviously must be added to any processed foods. They are lauded for their
lesser impact on blood sugar levels as compared with ordinary sugar, the result
of their passage through the body without absorption. Their chemical structure
also prevents linkage to tooth decay.
One drawback to these chemicals entails digestive side effects
when consumed in excess. In addition, diabetics need to avoid being lured into
a false sense of security, since sugar alcohols do influence blood sugar, albeit to a lesser extent than “regular”
sugar. Among the family of chemicals (which also includes xylitol, sorbitol, and
maltitol) erythritol contains fewer calories and exerts the least influence on
blood sugar, and is thought to cause lesser digestive side effects.
On the one hand, ingesting a substance that simply passes
through the body without really being absorbed or processed sounds just fine,
since something of that nature seemingly wouldn’t cause any negative effects.
On the other hand, though, nutrition indicates that our bodies are best
optimized when they take in unadulterated “whole foods,” making the ingestion
of these chemicals seem decidedly unnatural. Add to this the fact that these
next-generation artificial sweeteners are still in development with unknown
long-term effects, and it’s enough to make me skeptical.
Lest this discussion touch only on additives designed to make
us overeat artificial or highly-processed cuisine, the food industry has also
taken to “fortifying” certain products with added ingredients such as vitamins,
minerals... and even other foods. Pollan writes of a food industry article
titled “Getting More Fruits and Vegetables into Food.” “I had thought fruits
and vegetables were already foods,” he observes, “and so didn’t need to be
gotten into them.”
This practice strikes me as less noxious than adding artificial
chemicals or chemically-altered ingredients to foods, but it too goes against
the whole-food philosophy. It actually reminds me of a scene in Ocean’s Eleven (2001), in which Brad
Pitt’s character, Rusty Ryan, approaches Carl Reiner’s character, Saul Bloom,
at a Florida greyhound track. The two have not seen each other for some time,
and while they’re catching up, Saul takes out and begins peeling an orange.
Rusty: What’s with the orange?
Saul: My doctor says I need vitamins.
Rusty: So why don’t you take vitamins?
Saul: You come here to give me a physical?
Rusty has a point in that if Saul needs more vitamins the
easiest way to get them would be via pill form. However, my own experience has
been that doctors are moving away from the “everyone should take a
multivitamin” mantra and towards one that encourages a balanced diet of
unprocessed, nutrient-laden foods. Hence, I’ve always believed that Saul’s
doctor felt the same way and recommended the orange as a source of vitamin C. A
personal trainer at my gym also pointed out to me that the most commercially
popular vitamins aren’t worth taking. His rule of thumb is that if you can
grind the pill up into a fine powder, its contents are too processed to be
absorbed by the body. He recommended sticking with a grainier-looking pill...
preferably one that smells bad.
Thus, amidst all of this manipulation and confusion about our
food, the burden has been placed on the consumer to read ingredients lists and
avoid any undesirable foods at their own initiative. While this works with
products containing known allergens – peanuts, phenylalanine, shellfish, etc. –
a larger issue is that many people simply don’t pay attention to labels
generally, taking for granted that every component of every food approved for
sale has been sufficiently tested, vetted, and otherwise confirmed for safety.
Going beyond this, toward an assessment of whether these
ingredients deemed “safe” for consumption are ideal for us, requires a level of
research and attention that most of us simply don’t have time or patience for.
I was marginally cognizant enough of these concerns prior to becoming pregnant,
but there’s nothing like the news that you’re growing another human being to
magnify the importance of what, exactly, is going into your body.
Some choices really felt like a pick-your-poison dilemma. Foods
with preservatives in them sound unappealing because of the instinct to avoid
extra chemicals in food, whereas fear of listeria poisoning made me nervous
about eating the local, organic, and therefore dirt-encrusted lettuce I decided
to bring home one day on a whim. A diagnosis of gestational diabetes also
pushed me toward the dreaded artificial sweeteners, which I would have avoided
but for the need to limit real-sugar intake. At other times, I found myself
avoiding sweeter foods (regardless of how they got that way) in favor of more
savory, fat-based choices. The knowledge that the apple was “better” for me in
the long-term (less processed, no cholesterol, no fat) than the cheese was
little consolation against the reality that fruit would elevate my blood sugar
and count against my daily carb allotment.
My skepticism about the regulation of commercially available
foods notwithstanding, I’ve generally found it easy enough to rationalize that
any products on supermarket shelves must meet some minimum standard of health and safety. Up until now, I’ve
fallen into the typical consumer behavior of making my grocery store selections
based on what’s on the front of the box, or after a quick glance at the
fat/calorie content, without scrutinizing the full list of ingredients. But,
now that my child is eating solid foods, I’m especially cognizant of reports
advising against consumption of preservatives, pesticides, and trans fats. I recall growing up in a culture and household which espoused that the diet soda was "better" for us, even though it turns out society had only limited insight into the safety of artificial sweeteners. And I wonder what we're eating now - and feeding to our children - that we'll later learn is extremely harmful.
The neurotic part of my brain feels that the only safe option
is to avoid all commercially processed foods, or at least those with
unpronounceable or mysterious ingredients. It being a new year and all, I’ve decided to really scrutinize the labels of foods –
that is, read the packaging and avoid buying anything that seems overly
processed. Do any readers have similar goals? Or other concerns about diet and nutrition? Since there's definitely more to say about food and policy, I look forward to reporting back (and replying to any comments!) very soon.
