Perhaps what galls the most is the assumption of stupidity. The supposition
that if not for those who know infinitely more, who monitor and proclaim and
badger and nag, we'd sink into the abyss of this risk we call life.
Thanks, but I'll take my chances.
Consider the oh-my-gosh-it-can't-be-true announcement last week from the
Center for Science in the Public Interest -- a full-time nannycrat nonprofit
known for its crusade against movie popcorn and other fun foods -- that ice
cream is loaded with calories and saturated fat. It's not that CSPI thought
ice cream was a health food, a press release stated, but the true
nutritional numbers are shocking, truly shocking, and consumers are likewise
bound to be surprised by the delights coming out of places like
Baskin-Robbins, Ben and Jerry's and Haagen-Dazs.
"This is something eaten by people strolling around a mall," said CSPI
nutritionist Jayne Hurley in a news conference reported by Reuters. Her
example included Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream in its
chocolate-dipped waffle cone. "They have no idea they have just eaten 820
calories and one and a half days worth of saturated fat."
Holy, moly. The great unsuspecting masses duped again! I mean, who could
possibly guess that a concoction like, for instance, Cold Stone Creamery's
Mud Pie Mojo with its coffee ice cream, roasted almonds, fudge, Oreos,
peanut butter and whipped topping, is really, really, super high in calories
and best reserved for special occasions, hormonally driven cravings or
I-don't-give-a-damn bad days? Not the mall people who are left to wallow in
unsuspecting ice cream land.
Newsflash for Ms. Hurley and her bossy comrades: Most of those strolling
mall people don't care. They're blissful in their ignorance and are
perfectly happy to remain there. And if they do care, they're clued into the
unhealthy aspects of the fat-and-sugar laden ice cream they've chosen to
consume and would prefer to enjoy. Without a grating peep from anyone.
But that won't do. Legislation will.
Using the empowering language of "informed choice," CSPI explains true
choice isn't possible without requiring chain restaurants to list calorie
counts on menu boards -- which several busybody state legislatures with too
much time have proposed in legislation.
Information is good. Choice is great. But this isn't about either. It's
about an approach that treats people as incapable of educating themselves
and pushing people toward the "correct" choice. It's about bothersome
regulation rather than market forces driven by consumer preference. When
CSPI says menu labeling would encourage restaurants to compete based on
nutrition and not just "decadence and price," it reveals its
bad-must-be-punished ideology. No matter that uninformed indulgence in
moderation is often preferred.
Yes, too-large people are everywhere. Lots of us eat too much and move too
little. We live where abundance abounds. Excess is inevitable when so much
exists on demand and activity no longer determines who eats. Sometimes
that's deadly, sometimes it's life-threatening. It's definitely lazy and
absolutely unhealthy. It's also a choice.
What's interesting to note is that weight concerns aren't new. A recent Wall
Street Journal article reports that while Americans are getting bigger,
"ideal" weights are sinking. When Metropolitan Life Insurance, which devised
the first widely accepted ideal-weight charts, published its findings in the
early 1940s, the numbers were so far below average that millions were
instantly considered overweight. And when the body mass index -- a numerical
formula only that doesn't consider such variables as genetics, muscle ratio
or exercise -- was adopted in 1998 as the official U.S. government's basis
for healthy weights, 25 million became fat or obese overnight. Add changing
aesthetics, and "ideal" appears more malleable than one might think.
None of which matters to the meddlers determined to steer us on the correct
path.
"No one disputes that the obesity epidemic has many causes," declared CSPI
Executive Director Michael F. Jacobson. "But certainly the sheer size and
caloric density of these 'indulgences' has something to do with the size of
Americans' pants."
Thanks, but I'll continue my indulgences, chocolate-filled caloric content
notwithstanding. And my pant size is my business.
So go away.
Tresa McBee writes for the Northwest
Arkansas Times and can be reached at tresam@nwarktimes.com.
