While waiting for a flight to Denver in the Kansas City International Airport, I walked by several shops selling magazines, newspapers, gifts and snacks. Though there were some Paleo options, like walnuts or almonds, the snacks sold in these shops were predominantly industrial. As I passed a variety of processed treats, a bright and colorful bag of gummies caught my eye, and I began to consider the use of food in America.
These gummies were not what I’d call real food. Were I to eat them, their sugars would cause my mood to swing, first to euphoric heights, and then crashing toward grim reality; the artificial flavors and food additives would, after leaving a bad taste in my mouth, doubtlessly give me a headache; and, since I hadn’t eaten anything like them in a while, they’d likely cause farts and stomach pains. But if these gummies are going give me so much trouble, I wondered, then why do they even exist?
The Thursday after I arrived we had a family dinner. My brother, a twenty-two year old in his last year at university, had brought over two friends, a young couple who work in the restaurant business. The mood was festive; later, as we washed dishes, my father commented, “It felt like Christmas dinner.”
My mother had roasted a turkey and sweet potatoes, and had prepared a salad of lettuce, blackberries, and dried cranberries. It was all very Paleo, except for the sugar cookies set on a platter in the center of the table. Mom had made them that afternoon, using a cookie cutter to shape them into Christmas trees and stars that she covered with icing and sprinkles.
“Those aren’t Paleo,” my youngest brother, a precocious twelve-year-old, remarked as I took a Christmas tree from the platter.
“Oh, I’m aware of that,” I replied.
“What’s Paleo?” asked one of my brother’s friends.
My dad went from outlining the basics of the diet to its evolutionary rationale and then into historical evidence demonstrating the benefits of Paleo, while I pondered my Christmas cookie.
“The advantage industrial foods have over Paleo foods,” I said as my father finished, “is that industrial foods can be more than just food.” I held up my Christmas tree. “This cookie isn’t just food; it’s a symbol. When I eat it, I’m not just eating; I’m partaking in a ritual.”
My comment caused an uproar. “That’s just the dopamine talking,” my dad said, dismissing my statement as the result of sugar in my blood stream.
“Processed foods have an edge Paleo foods lack,” I continued, undeterred. “They can be more than just sustenance. You eat Paleo because it gives you the nutrients you need. But the reason industrial foods flourish in our culture is because they do more than nourish. When you’re bored, industrial foods entertain – just think of the fun shapes they take, from animal crackers to alphabet soup. When you’re sluggish, industrial foods provide a boost, whether as a caffeinated beverage, or a sugary treat. And when you need comfort, industrial foods have a variety of meals to make you feel better.” “Like grilled cheese and tomato soup,” My mom added, citing her favorite.
But my father was distressed. “Would you put honey in the tank of your car?” he asked, emphasizing that if we do not purposely compromise the fuel in our cars, why should we compromise our own? “I’m not defending industrial foods,” I explained. “Well, it sounds like you are,” my college-age brother replied. “No, I’m trying to describe the uses beyond sustenance they have.” “Oh,” my brother rolled his eyes, “well, your tone suggested otherwise.”
“When you eat Paleo foods, it’s clear that you’re feeding yourself. But when you eat industrial foods, you don’t always feel satisfied. This lack of satisfaction gives room for these foods to serve other functions.”
“Like entertainment, excitement, and comfort,” my brother added, counting the uses on his hand. He smirked as he counted, as if he were indulging me.
“People have come to need these things,” I concluded. “So when you ask them to go Paleo, suddenly they’re eating for sustenance alone. Where will they get their entertainment, excitement, and comfort now?”
“They can go to Paleo gatherings, and ask those there what they do,” my father answered.
“But that’s not a solution,” I replied. “That’s asking someone else for one.” I described my conception of culture as a web of people holding hands, and that when one person changed their habits, that alteration rippled through everyone. “Which leads me to believe the components of culture are interconnected, each taking part in the formation of the other.”
Then I went overboard, and said that if people started eating Paleo, it’d make contemporary life impossible. “Industrial foods make a sedentary existence bearable. The food coma they put you in keeps you just aware enough to perform the tasks you’re assigned. Any more energy, and you wouldn’t bear to be seated all day.” I wanted to express that the activities filling our day influence our dietary choices, and that our dietary choices influence the activities we engage in daily. Behind this was a vision of a culture transformed by Paleo, where people ate well, and then filled their lives with activities that nourished their hearts and minds.
But, as often happens at holiday dinners, the words just didn’t come out right.
John Michael