In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto (2008) is Michael Pollan‘s follow-up to The Omnivore’s Dilemma, in which he answers the question the most readers of that earlier book have when finished “Ok, so what should I eat?”
Pollan’s simple answer is: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” A simple phrase, but it requires this slim book to explicate, especially in this era where the prominence of processed food products make it difficult to determine what food is. A good portion of the book is a set of rules for identifying foods and how to enjoy them. I’ve listed the rules below for my own memory, but it is important to read the book for Pollan’s explication of each rule.
At it’s heart, In Defense of Food is an indictment of nutritionism. This is the process where by scientific reductionism food is broken down into it’s basic nutrients. In nutritionism, it is at the nutrient-level where “foods” are recommend for their healthful benefits or condemned for their ill-effects. Pollan contends that a lot of these recommendations are made under pressure from food processing companies and government agencies without thorough research on how the food (or food products) acts at the macro-level. This lack of understanding about how food works leads to the contradictory recommendations that a food is healthy one year and deadly the next (and vice versa). Furthermore, it ignores how whole foods act as a nutrient delivery system. For example, a plant leaf may dissolve in the digestive system releasing nutrients in a healthful way, while the same nutrient as an additive to a food product can flood the body in unhealthful ways. Additionally, Pollan states there is little research how nutrients act in balance with one another.
The processing of food often removes the nutrients needed, even when the cartons make claims to the healthfulness of what should be inside. As a result, we live in a country where people are eating and eating and eating in search of nutrients they cannot find. Thus the oxymoron of a people who overeat but are still undernourished.
On the one hand this book is a vindication. I always felt better eating real butter, sugar and other whole foods when everyone told me it’s healthier to consume margarine and aspartame and the like (ok, I could cut back on the sugar some more). I never trusted high fructose corn syrup. The way people glom onto fad diets withouth much evidence that they’re healthful drives me crazy. I would add to Pollan’s rules: “Never trust a diet with a name (ex. Adkins, South Beach, et al). On the other hand I live on a supposedly healthy vegetarian diet, but I don’t eat nearly enough leafy plants and I rely way too much on processed foods even if they’re supposedly healthy meals from Trader Joe’s.
Pollan often refers to the traditional nutritionist we should trust as “Mom.” Unfortunately, he fails to acknowledge that Mom is now working 40+ hours out of the home. So is Dad and sometimes the kids are too. The time crunch many Americans face that put real pressures on the time available to select, prepare and eat food. This is not to be critical of Pollan, but I’d like to come up with extra rules that would help people incorporate healthy relationships with food into their busy lives. It seems it would need to be a cultural change as well as individual. It could be as simple as teaching someone like me what to look for at a farmer’s market: which type of produce should I look for, how should I judge it’s quality, how much do I bring home, and what do I do with it when I get home? It sounds dumb, but I really need such remedial training, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.
A good book to pair with In Defense of Food is Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, in which author Barbara Kingsolver and her family spend a year eating locally, organically, and sustainably. It come recommended by my sister and is central to this great episode of Speaking of Faith with Krista Tippet called The Ethics of Eating.
How a people eats is one of the most powerful ways they have to express, and preserve, their cultural identity, which is exactly what you don’t want in a society dedicated to the ideal of “Americanization.” To make food choices more scientific is to empty them of their ethnic content and history; in theory, at least, nutrionism proposes a neutral, modernist, forward-looking and potentially unifying answer to the question of what it might mean to eat like an American. It is also a way to moralize about other people’s choices without seeming to. In this, nutrionism is a little like the institution of the American front lawn, an unobjectionable, if bland way to pave over our differences and Americanize the landscape. Of course in both cases unity comes at the price of aesthetic diversity and sensory pleasure. Which may be precisely the point. – pp. 57-58
When most of us think about food and health, we think in fairly narrow nutritionist terms — about our personal physical health and how ingestion of this particular nutrient or rejection of that affects it. But I no longer think it’s possible to seperate our bodily health from the health of the environment from which we eat or, for that matter, from the healt of our general outlook about food (and health). If my explorations of the food chain have taught me anything, it’s that it is a food chain, and all the links in it are in fact linked: the health of the soil to the health of the plants and animals we eat to the health of the food culture in which we eat them to the health of the eater, in body as well as mind. So you will find rules here concerning not only what to eat but also how to eat it as well as how that food is produced. Food consists not just in piles of chemicals; it also comprises a set of social and ecological relationships, reach back to the land and outward to other people. – p. 144
But meat, which humans have been going to heroic lengths to obtain and have been relishing for a very long time, is nutritious food, supplying all the essential amino acids as well as many vitamins and minerals, and I haven’t found a compelling health reason to exclude it from the diet (That’s not to say there aren’t good ethical or enviromental reasons to do so).
That said, eating meat in the tremendous quantaties we do (each American now consumes and average of two hundred pounds of meat a year) is probably not a good idea, especially when that meat comes from a highly industrialized food chain. Several studies point to the conclusion that the more meat there is in your diet — read meat especially — the greater your risk of heart disease and cancer. Yet studies of flexitarians suggest that small amounts of meat — less than one serving a day — don’t appear to increase one’s risk. Thomas Jefferson probably had the right idea when he reccomended using meat more as a flavoring princinple than as a main course, treating it as a “condiment for vegetables.” — p. 165-6
- Don’t eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn’t recognize as food.
- Don’t eat anything incapable of rotting
- Avoid food products containing ingredients that are:
- More than five in number
- Or, include High Fructose Corn Syrup
- Avoid food products that make health claims
- Shop the peripheries of the supermarket and stay out of the middle
- Get out of the supermarket whenever possible
- Eat mostly plants. Especially leaves
- You are what what you eat eats too
- If you have the space, buy a freezer (to preserve cuts of meat)
- Eat like an omnivore
- Eat well-grown food from healthy soils
- Eat wild foods when you can
- Be the kind of person who takes supplements (but don’t waste your money unless you’re over 50)
- Eat more like the French. Or the Italians. Or the Japanese. Or the Indians. Or the Greeks.
- Regard non-traditional foods with skepticism
- Don’t look for the magic bullet in the traditional diet
- Have a glass of wine with dinner
NOT TOO MUCH
- Pay more, eat less
- Eat meals
- Do all you’re eating at a table (a desk doesn’t count)
- Don’t get your fuel from the same place your car does
- Try not to eat alone
- Consult your gut
- Eat slowly
- Cook, and if you can, plant a garden
In defense of food : an eater’s manifesto / Michael Pollan.
New York : Penguin Press, 2008.
244 p. ; 23 cm