Very low-carbohydrate diets work for men and upper body fat

Scientists say that low carbohydrate diets, like the Atkins and South Beach Diets, may actually be the best option for men who want to slim. New research, published this week in the Open Access journal, Nutrition & Metabolism, shows that over 70% of men lost more weight and fat on a low carbohydrate diet, despite eating more calories.

Jeff Volek and colleagues, from the University of Connecticut, also show for the first time that a low carbohydrate diet is much more effective in losing fat from the stomach and chest. Upper body fat carries "a greater health risk than fat stored in other regions of the body," say the authors. They found that fat loss in men was three-times greater in the trunk area, when they were on a low-carbohydrate regime compared to the low-fat diet. Nearly all participants in the study (12 of 15 men and 12 of 13 women) lost more fat on their upper body on the low- carbohydrate diet.

Fifteen overweight or obese men, and thirteen women, were randomly assigned to a very low carbohydrate diet or a low fat diet. After fifty days, they were switched to the other diet. 11 of the 15 men did better on the low carbohydrate diet, six lost greater than 10 lbs more on the low carbohydrate diet, and one subject lost almost 25 pounds more. Similar results were found for women although the results were less dramatic.

Volek and colleagues also looked at whether weight and fat loss were affected by what order the diets were done in. Their data seem to favour undertaking a low carbohydrate first, suggesting that those who have concerns about long term 'low carb' diets could follow a low carb diet first followed by a low fat diet.

There is much debate about the health implications of long-term use of low carbohydrate diets. Volek's lab, whose work is the first-ever to be funded in part by the Robert C. Atkins Foundation, has previously shown that low carbohydrate diets improve cardiovascular risk factors.

For more information about low carbohydrate diets read the review by well-known endocrinologist, Samy McFarlane, in Nutrition & Metabolism. Dr McFarlane reviews the new book, 'Atkins Diabetes Revolution', by Mary C. Vernon, M.D. and Jacqueline A. Eberstein, R.N. McFarlane and co-reviewer Surender Arora, M.D. found the book "sufficiently convincing to make us believe that some form of low carbohydrate intervention is worth investigating and should be considered by practitioners. The highly negative un-scientific response of critics, if anything, encourages us in this direction."

This press release is based on:

Comparison of energy-restricted very low-carbohydrate and low-fat diets on weight loss and body composition in overweight men and women Volek JS, Sharman MJ, Gómez AL, Judelson DA, Rubin MR, Watson G, Sokmen B, Silvestre R, French DN, and Kraemer WJ. Nutrition & Metabolism 2004, 1:12 (9 November 2004)

The article is freely available at http://www.nutritionandmetabolism.com/content/1/1/12.

Source: EurekAlert

"A calorie is a calorie" violates the second law of thermodynamics

Richard D Feinman and Eugene J Fine

Nutrition Journal 2004, 3:9 doi:10.1186/1475-2891-3-9

Published 28 July 2004

Abstract (provisional)

The principle of "a calorie is a calorie," that is, that weight change in hypocaloric diets is independent of macronutrient composition, is widely held in the popular and technical literature, and is frequently justified by appeal to the laws of thermodynamics. We review here some aspects of thermodynamics that bear on weight loss and the effect of macronutrient composition. The focus is the so-called metabolic advantage in low-carbohydrate diets - greater weight loss compared to isocaloric diets of different composition. Two laws of thermodynamics are relevant to the systems considered in nutrition and, whereas the first law is a conservation (of energy) law, the second is a dissipation law: something (negative entropy) is lost and therefore balance is not to be expected in diet interventions. Here, we propose that a misunderstanding of the second law accounts for the controversy about the role of macronutrient effect on weight loss and we review some aspects of elementary thermodynamics. We use data in the literature to show that thermogenesis is sufficient to predict metabolic advantage. Whereas homeostasis ensures balance under many conditions, as a general principle, "a calorie is a calorie" violates the second law of thermodynamics.

Provisional pdf

Thermodynamic Edge For Low Carbohydrate Diets

SUNY Downstate Researchers Say All Calories Are NOT Alike

In a paper published in Nutrition Journal (Open Access, available without subscription at http://www.nutritionj.com/home), two researchers from SUNY Downstate Medical Center show that low carbohydrate, high protein diets can be expected to be more effective than low fat diets, going against long standing prejudice of the nutritional community, which has claimed that only calories count.

(PRWEB) July 31, 2004 -- “There are numerous examples of low carbohydrate diets being more effective than low fat diets with the same number of calories. It doesn’t always happen but it can happen,” said Dr. Richard Feinman of the Department of Biochemistry. “The nutritional establishment has been reluctant to accept this, because they say it violates the law of thermodynamics. However, they never seriously look at the thermodynamics, which not only says its possible, but it is to be expected.” he added.

In their paper, Dr. Feinman and Dr. Eugene J. Fine explain that thermodynamics is as much about efficiency as it is about energy conservation. Carbohydrate is an efficient fuel, whereas protein is not. On a low carbohydrate/high protein diet, even though total energy is conserved, more energy is wasted as heat, a process known as thermogenesis. This energy comes from burning fat.

The researchers stress that “the human body is not a storage locker. It is a machine and the efficiency of the machine is controlled by hormones and enzymes. Carbohydrates increase insulin and other hormones that regulate enzymes, leading to storage rather than burning of fat.”

“Of course, people are different” said the authors, “but many people are sensitive to the effects of carbohydrates and for them, a low carb diet is going to work well.”

The practical point is that getting rid of the idea that “a calorie is a calorie” opens the door for serious research into what kind of diets will be most effective and which people will benefit most. “This is important,” they explain “because millions of people
are seriously trying to lose weight on low carbohydrate diets, and instead of being given directions on the best way to do this, they have been largely discouraged by health professionals and self-appointed expert groups. The obesity epidemic is too important to allow this to happen.”

Note to editors/reporters: You can read the entire scientific paper by going to http://www.nutritionj.com/home and clicking on “Provisional PDF” at the bottom of the headline.

Confessions of a no-carb chef

From The Times Online

by Ann Treneman
Impressed with his weight loss on Atkins but appalled by the recipes, a gourmet chef has created his own
Henry Harris is a conundrum. On the one hand he is the chef who has brought a taste of award-winning French cuisine to West London. On the other, he has just written a diet cookbook. And, even worse, it’s not any diet, it’s Atkins. Henry is a gourmet who has gone low- carb. It’s almost the stuff of confessions.

Or so it seems before we meet. I am to interview him about the book but, in the name of research, I go along to his restaurant, Racine, first. It is exactly like a proper French restaurant should be, all dark banquettes, seamless service and fresh food dressed in delicate sauces. At first it seems the opposite of low-carb living. But as I salivate over my asparagus and lamb, I realise this is low carb, it is just low carb with glamour.

by Ann Treneman
Impressed with his weight loss on Atkins but appalled by the recipes, a gourmet chef has created his own
Henry Harris is a conundrum. On the one hand he is the chef who has brought a taste of award-winning French cuisine to West London. On the other, he has just written a diet cookbook. And, even worse, it’s not any diet, it’s Atkins. Henry is a gourmet who has gone low- carb. It’s almost the stuff of confessions.

Or so it seems before we meet. I am to interview him about the book but, in the name of research, I go along to his restaurant, Racine, first. It is exactly like a proper French restaurant should be, all dark banquettes, seamless service and fresh food dressed in delicate sauces. At first it seems the opposite of low-carb living. But as I salivate over my asparagus and lamb, I realise this is low carb, it is just low carb with glamour.

This is quite a revelation. The Atkins diet, as outlined in the famous orange book, may work but it has its drawbacks. I have been on it for a year and although none of the horror stories is true — after the first few weeks you can eat quite a lot of carbs — the food is as drab as a faded housedress. I am tired of hamburger patties and cottage cheese, not to mention “snack” avocados.

What I had not realised, until I met Harris, was that there is an alternative. He too went on the diet a year ago. He lost 2½st (16kg) and has kept it off. But he was not content to survive on my kind of dull fare. Nor was he willing to sacrifice his sense of taste in terms of finding substitutes for carbs or sugar. “The recipes at the back of the Atkins book were terrible,” he said. “I tried the chocolate mousse with artificial sugar and had a taste of it and it tasted like artificial sugar.” He didn’t make it again.

Harris believes in real food and that is what he likes to cook, and eat, for himself and his family. He stresses that Racine is not an Atkins restaurant (the breadbasket on every table backs this up). But, as I had discovered, it is relatively easy to order a low-carb meal in a French restaurant. Harris notes that this is not the case if you are eating Italian (because of pasta) or Indian and Chinese (because of rice).

He had written for various newspapers over the years and, as his weight loss became dramatic, was asked to devise his own low-carb recipes. Though sceptical at first, he found the list kept growing and, more importantly, that he was proud of it. The result is the cookbook A Passion for Protein. The name may not be so delectable (I suspect it was a marketing decision) but the recipes are intriguing, not least because they involve no cottage cheese. I never thought that rabbit with mustard sauce and bacon would be low-carb or, for that matter, baked crab with tomato and tarragon hollandaise. But they are.

For those of us who have come to think that a boiled egg is very tasty indeed, this is exciting. Harris also has devised interesting ways to replace the carb element in foods. Some are obvious, such as using crumbled cooked bacon or pork scratchings instead of croutons, but others include using finely shredded celeriac or courgette in place of pasta, and replacing burger buns with cooked large flat mushrooms.

I suspect that chefs and diets do not go together and, as the interview continues, this becomes a bit of a theme. We talk in the morning at Racine. Harris, who is 40, is wearing his chef whites and it is clear that what he is passionate about is food, not diets. In fact, he is downright suspicious of them. “I think that people on diets, whether it’s something really extreme like the cabbage soup diet or WeightWatchers, are very, very constrained by the rules. They put themselves on a diet, say WeightWatchers, mess up and then they say, oh f*** it and binge. It is like an alcoholic; when they fall off the wagon, they have to descend to new depths.”

The way round this, he believes, lies in the attitude. “I avoid the word diet. I use the word regime.” And, for him, the biggest regime change has been rice. “I used to eat risotto two or three times a week.” This was not the case for pasta and bread. A great pasta dish is a joy, he says, but they are few and far between, and the same goes for bread. The last piece of “epic bakery” he experienced was a crusty bread roll at Merchant House in Ludlow. He describes this in sumptuous detail but adds, with what may be relief, that it is a rarity.

We turn to the vexed subject of puddings. Harris announces that he sees sugar as napalm. Cream on its own is harmless but, when you add sugar, something explosively bad for you happens. He refuses to use sugar substitutes, and so the book has only three puddings: pineapple with rum and crème fraiche, raspberries and Jersey cream, and vodka and lemon tonic jelly. He compensates for this somewhat by including some killer cocktails including a classic Martini.

Harris believes that, if you don’t say that something is low carb, then no one will know. He had a dinner party at the weekend at which he served asparagus and then steak au poivre. Other vegetables included button mushrooms, french beans and a salad of watercress and shallots. He also offered, though did not eat himself, new potatoes cooked with whole garlic. Then there was cheese and, finally, squares of delicious dark bitter chocolate. I’m not sure that anyone could describe that as deprivation.

A Passion for Protein, by Henry Harris, is published by Quadrille, £14.99

*TASTE THIS!*

*JAMBON DE BAYONNE WITH CELERIAC REMOULADE*
Serves 8

I large head of celeriac (or 2 smaller ones)
16 slices of Bayonne ham
3 tbsp capers

For the remoulade sauce:
4 egg yolks
6 canned anchovy fillets, drained
3 tbsp Dijon mustard
Splash of red wine vinegar 350ml vegetable oil
Tiny splash of hot water

First make the remoulade sauce: place the egg yolks, anchovy fillets, mustard and red wine vinegar in a food processor. Blitz to a smooth state and then add the oil, initially drop by drop, building up to a more confident stream as the mayonnaise forms. When all the oil is incorporated, add the hot water. Season to taste, and perhaps add more mustard if needed.

Peel the celeriac and cut into very fine strips. Place the celeriac in a bowl and mix in the mustard mayonnaise. Hands work best here. Cover and refrigerate until needed.

To serve, place a pile of the celeriac in the middle of each plate. Arrange 2 slices of ham around the edge, then sprinkle over a few capers.

From The Times Online

Wanker Alert!

By Anthony Colpo.

May 31, 2004.

TheOmnivore.com's BS detector has been sounding off at ear-shattering levels this week, after being triggered by some particularly idiotic claims appearing in the media!

The first of these comes to us courtesy of those sadly misguided anti-meat, vegan fanatics who call themselves the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine. After desperately searching for individuals who have allegedly experienced adverse reactions on the Atkins diet and are prepared to sue (the PCRM have an entire web site devoted to this caper), they finally found someone prepared to step up to the plate in the form of one Jody Gorran.

Read full article at: The Omnivore

Drs. Atkins and Agatston, You Were So Right

From the The Scientist

Their low-carb diets are on target--control appetite, control weight | By Ricki Lewis

On January 20, I joined the ranks of those who've sacrificed themselves for science: I started one of those "low-carb" diets. So far, the sacrifice has been worth it.

I'd always resisted celebrity-sponsored diets, smugly thinking my background in genetics and biochemistry made me more of an authority on matters nutritional than the likes of Whoopi Goldberg and Sarah Ferguson. I've even taught the subject.

But this low-carb diet is different. It prescribes "good carbs and good fats" while blacking out most things white and processed, including rice, bread, pasta, and potatoes. Building on conventional wisdom about the evils of excess starch, this program also considers insulin swings.

A new way of viewing carbohydrates began in 1981, when a University of Toronto team measured the glycemic index (GI) for many foods. The GI is a measure of the speed at which foods hike blood glucose and therefore insulin secretion, averaged in numerous individuals.1 A maximum for comparison purposes is either white bread or straight glucose. The idea is that rapid insulin fluctuation, as it shoves glucose into cells, sparks hunger.

GI numbers can be counterintuitive. For example, instant oatmeal sends insulin secretion skyrocketing, whereas whole oats do not, presumably due to digestion-slowing fiber. Even an unembellished baked potato becomes the enemy.

I had long wondered why following the US Department of Agriculture's food pyramid, which endorses a low-fat diet, plus daily exercise, had not vanquished a nanogram of me. Then my younger sister, a person who once wore size zero jeans, lost 10 pounds in two weeks following a low-carb diet. She left me no choice: I had to do it.

Day 1 was OK, my hypothalamus not yet registering glycogen depletion. By day 2, however, my head pounded, and all government-sanctioned painkillers were useless. Then I suddenly envisioned the glycolytic pathway and surreptitiously took a gulp of Pepsi; I felt instant relief. On day 4, I awoke feeling like aliens had replaced my body with a younger, more energetic model. Carb cravings vanished; pounds, too.

Months later, low-carb has become a way of life, even as my husband and daughter continue eating starchy foods, which I cook. I no longer want them. It's part metabolic, part psychological, a Pavlovian response linking a diet of mostly eggs, meat, cheese and certain vegetables with plummeting pounds, illogical as that may seem.

My husband the chemist and ex-marathoner, acknowledging his girth but unwilling to sacrifice pasta and potatoes, invented the NPCAD ("no potato chips after dinner") plan. His strategy: "I've eaten a lot of junk food all my life; now I don't." Being an XY without hormone issues, of course he's had little trouble shedding weight.

Considering my low-carb experience, I'd like to shed the USDA's food pyramid. I write textbooks, and the one I'm working on now carries this suspect guideline, with its broad bottom advocating those forbidden foods (the same ones the USDA oversees, grains), and the bulk of my present diet relegated to the "use sparingly" pyramid tip. Change is slow in textbook land, and my coauthors overruled my objections, this time around.

For years I, too, accepted the almighty pyramid, introduced in 1992, as dogma. When I taught nutrition, I preached that weight was a simple consequence of calories-in versus calories-out, food type unimportant. Because fats impart nine calories per gram compared to four for proteins and carbohydrates, with all intake being equal, fats were out. The fallacy is that all intake isn't equal. The glucose rush from refined carbohydrates does seem to intensify hunger inappropriately. In contrast, fats promote satiety. That's why mounds of spaghetti get polished off easier than large slabs of beef. So while calories-in must balance calories-out, eat fewer carbs and less will go in. The much-maligned Robert Atkins based his diet on the effects of appetite, and Arthur Agatston, who developed the South Beach Diet, iterated it. For me, evidence of friends shrinking on either diet, anecdotal as it is, convinced me that for some people, the USDA pyramid should be flipped.

Controlled studies are beginning to emerge. Two trials comparing low-carb to low-fat declared the former the winner, for both weight loss and improved lipid profiles, within the first six months. After a year, such differences vanished, but many on the low-fat diet dropped out.2,3 However, these studies, like many previous ones, were too short and were limited to obese people. The prescription: more studies.

But I don't need them as proof. I'm unscientifically convinced with my sample of one. I've never felt better, and since January I've lost 25 pounds.

*Ricki Lewis (ralewis@nycap.rr.com) is a freelance writer in Scotia, NY.*

References
1. D.J.A. Jenkins et al., "Glycemic index of foods--a physiological basis for carbohydrate exchange," Am J Clin Nutr, 34:362-6, 1981.

2. F.F. Samaha et al., "A low-carbohydrate as compared with a low-fat diet in severe obesity," N Engl J Med, 348:2074-81, 2003.

3. G.D. Foster et al., "A randomized trial of a low-carbohydrate diet for obesity," N Engl J Med, 348:2082-90, 2003.

LOW-CARB RIPOFFS

From Second Opinions

The overweight and obese have always provided a very lucrative and ready market for food companies to exploit with expensive, nutrient-poor, highly-processed, slimming 'foods' and diet products. Some of these, the liquid powders you made into a drink, were made largely from skim milk powder, with added chemicals and artificial flavours. The ingredients were very cheap for the manufacturers to buy (skim milk powder is almost given away), but were very expensive for the dieter to buy. Others included inert fillers which contained no food at all.

I had hoped that when the new low-carb way of eating caught on, these rip-off merchants would be unable to sell their products and go into liquidation.

How naïve I was!

The current low-carb 'fad' has allowed the food companies to widen their net to ensnare even more people with even more rip-offs, which are even more expensive. Here are some examples on sale to the 'low-carb diet' market (I have written comments in blue below each one):

Read the full article here: Second Opinions

The Atkins Experiment [Guardian]

Guardian science correspondent Alok Jha is going on the Atkins diet in an attempt to find out what it really does to your body and mind. He'll be monitored by a team of scientists who will look at everything from what's happening to his mood to how the chemicals in his blood are changing.

Read his diary at:

26 Feb 2004
The great Atkins experiment. Diet cynic Alok Jha embarks on the low-carb routine to see what it does to his body - and his mind

25 Mar 2004
In the beginning...

08 Apr 2004
How to leave the bread behind

06 May 2004
Why I'm not a low-carb revolutionary just yet

Related message board:
Guardian Unlimited : The Talk

Hunter-Gatherers, Low-carb Diets, and Adrenalin

Full article by Anthony Colpo: The Omnivore

Is a calorie a calorie?

American Journal of Clinical Nutrition, Vol. 79, No. 5, 899S-906S, May 2004
© 2004 American Society for Clinical Nutrition

Andrea C Buchholz and Dale A Schoeller

From the Department of Nutritional Sciences, University of Wisconsin-Madison

The aim of this review was to evaluate data regarding potential thermodynamic mechanisms for increased rates of weight loss in subjects consuming diets high in protein and/or low in carbohydrate. Studies that compared weight loss and energy expenditure in adults consuming diets high in protein and/or low in carbohydrate with those in adults consuming diets low in fat were reviewed. In addition, studies that measured the metabolizable energy of proteins, fats, and carbohydrates were reviewed. Diets high in protein and/or low in carbohydrate produced an 2.5-kg greater weight loss after 12 wk of treatment. Neither macronutrient-specific differences in the availability of dietary energy nor changes in energy expenditure could explain these differences in weight loss. Thermodynamics dictate that a calorie is a calorie regardless of the macronutrient composition of the diet. Further research on differences in the composition of weight loss and on the influence of satiety on compliance with energy-restricted diets is needed to explain the observed increase in weight loss with diets high in protein and/or low in carbohydrate.

Thumbs Down: The South Beach Diet

by Stephen Byrnes, PhD, RNCP

With the popularity of low-carb diets reaching a high point recently, it was only a matter of time before someone adjusted it into “nutritional correctness.” Enter The South Beach Diet by cardiologist Arthur Agatston, MD, of Miami, Florida, which has sold millions of copies and has remained on the best-seller list for many months.

The South Beach Diet is most certainly a low-carb eating regime with the usual carbohydrate foods such as bread (even whole grain), fruit, fruit juices, and rice, potatoes, and pasta excluded (or kept to a bare minimum). Of course, white sugar is out, as well as the whole gamut of processed carbohydrate snack foods.

So far, so good. But then the book gets the dieter into trouble because the author urges high protein consumption in the form of skim milk, lean meat and other nonfat foods, and prohibits the use of animal fats, a dangerous combination that rapidly depletes vitamin A stores leading to auto-immune diseases and underactive thyroid (which can cause weight gain) and even cancer and heart disease.

Furthermore, by eliminating both saturated fats and carbohydrate foods, the body has no ready source of the saturated fats it needs to build healthy cell membranes. Many studies have indicated that a regimen like the South Beach diet, high in unsaturated oils (even the so-called monounsaturated oils) and low in saturated result in disease, including heart disease. This is what happens when weak science is allied to political correctness...

Read full article here: Weston A. Price

Research Shows Low Fat Diet Makes People Moody!

Low-fat, high-carbohydrate diets worsen mood states in both humans and animals.

By Anthony Colpo, April 18, 2004.

In 1998, U.K. researchers reported the results of an experiment involving twenty healthy male and female volunteers. One group continued was placed on a 41% fat diet, while the other group consumed a 25% fat diet. After 4 weeks had passed, the groups were swapped around so that those originally on the low-fat diet were now consuming the high-fat diet, and vice-versa. Throughout the study, all meals were prepared by the university conducting the study and supplied to the participants. Both diets were specially designed to be as palatable and similar in taste as possible.

At the beginning and end of each diet period, every subject underwent a battery of psychological assessments, including various mood state questionnaires and an interview by a psychiatrist who was blinded to the participant's dietary status.

The study was tightly-controlled and adherence to the diets appears to have been high. HDL cholesterol levels declined during the low-fat period, a typical response on low-fat, high-carb diets, indicating that subjects ate the foods as supplied.

I feel fine, you #$%@!

What the researchers found was that, while ratings of anger-hostility slightly declined during the high-fat diet period, they significantly increased during the low-fat, high-carb diet period!

Tension-anxiety ratings declined during the high-fat period, but did not change during the four weeks of low-fat, high-carb eating.

Ratings of depression declined slightly during the high-fat period, but increased during the low-fat, high-carb period, mainly due to two of the low-fat subjects reporting significantly greater depression-dejection ratings.

As the researchers stated, the participants of this study were "a psychologically robust group who had never previously suffered from depression or anxiety, and who were not going through any 'stressful' events during the study." They further stated that "The alterations in mood observed in the present study may have been greater if subjects were feeling more stressed or were more susceptible to mental illness."

These observations raise some interesting questions. Could the low-fat, high-carbohydrate diets that have been so heavily promoted over the last thirty years be at least partially responsible for increases in anti-social behavior witnessed during the same period?

That the answer could well be in the affirmative is supported by studies with our primate cousins...

Monkey business turns nasty on low-fat diet!

For 22 months, adult male monkeys were fed a "luxury" diet - (43% calories from fat, 0.34 mg cholesterol/Calorie of diet) or a "prudent" diet (30% calories from fat, 0.05 mg cholesterol/Calorie of diet).

Researchers observed that the low-fat diet monkeys were more irritable and initiated more aggression than the "luxury" diet animals. Hey, I'd be pretty damn ticked too if I had to follow a low-fat diet for almost 2-years!

The prudent diet resulted in lower total serum cholesterol levels. While our dopey health authorities automatically assume this is a good thing, the researchers noted: "These results are consistent with studies linking relatively low serum cholesterol concentrations to violent or antisocial behavior in psychiatric and criminal populations and could be relevant to understanding the significant increase in violence-related mortality observed among people assigned to cholesterol-lowering treatment in clinical trials."

If you don't want to end up a nasty old grump, then it might pay to regularly sink your teeth into a nice, fat, juicy steak!

C'mon, you know you want it...

References

Wells AS, et al. Alterations in mood after changing to a low-fat diet. British Journal of Nutrition, Jan, 1998; 79 (1): 23-30.

Kaplan JR, et al. The effects of fat and cholesterol on social behavior in monkeys. Psychosom Med. 1991 Nov-Dec; 53 (6): 634-642.

Source: The Omnivore

So who is this 'Omnivore' guy, anyway?

Why one man abandoned his 'healthy' low-fat diet.

Read full article here: The Omnivore

Interview: Gary Taubes

FRONTLINE DIET WARS
Science journalist Gary Taubes wrote the controversial July 7, 2002 New York Times Magazine article, What If It's All Been a Big Fat Lie? which turned the spotlight onto high-fat, low carbohydrate diets. In this interview, Taubes explains his motivation for writing his piece, the science behind the low-carbohydrate diet, and the contention he faced when he published his findings. "I got crucified in a variety of publications," he says "... It was fascinating. They go after the messenger as much as the message." He is currently writing a book that is a historical and scientific exploration of the hypothesis that weight gain and chronic disease are caused by excess consumption of easily digestible and refined carbohydrates. This interview was conducted Dec. 10, 2003.

What made you go after this topic in the first place?

Two things. I'd been reporting on salt and blood pressure, which is a huge controversy, and some of the people involved in that were involved in the advice to tell Americans to eat low-fat diets, and they were terrible scientists. These were some of the worst scientists I'd ever come across in my 20-odd year career of writing about controversial science.

I literally called up my editor and said, "I just got off the phone with so-and-so, and he's [taken] credit for getting Americans to eat less eggs and less fat. This guy's one of the worst scientists I've ever talked to, and if he was involved in this, then there's a story there." And that was it. I didn't know what the story was. I just knew there was a story.

Was there a personal motivation?

Before I did it, I was up at MIT, interviewing an economist about another story, a guy who runs a laboratory of financial engineering. He told me about being on the Atkins diet, and how effective it was. He was an Asian-American who had lost 40-50 pounds by giving up white rice, in effect.

I thought I would try it as an experiment, since I was going to write about fat and whether it really did cause heart disease and weight loss. I tried it, and it was amazing. You know, it's everything -- the 20 pounds that I'd never been able to lose, in six weeks, and I stopped exercising. It was kind of a surreal experience, and probably, in a sense, informed my opinions from there on in. I mean, after that happens, you say, "I want to know what's happening, and I want to know why."

Why is it so easy for us to believe that fat is a bad dietary ingredient?

The idea is that fat has nine calories per gram, and carbohydrates and protein have four calories per gram, and somehow the theory is that the denser the calories, the more easier it is for us to eat more of them. What happened is in the '50s and '60s, when researchers started fingering fat as a cause of heart disease, the obesity researchers, the obesity community started advocating low-fat diets, which they had never done before. A low-fat diet is by definition a high-carbohydrate diet.

But you had this sort of synchronicity where you had the heart disease people saying, "Give up fat, saturated fat, for heart disease," and the obesity people started saying, "Give up fat because it must be the best diet because fat is the densest calories." They moved from there without ever testing actually either of those hypotheses, so the obesity people start recommending low-fat diets; the heart disease people are recommending low-fat diets. They have actually no idea whether it's going to cure heart disease, and the obesity people have no idea whether these diets even work. But because they believe that it's only the calories that [are] important, obviously if you give up the major source of calories in the diet, you must lose weight...

Read the full interview here: pbs.org

Adventures in Diet - By Vilhjalmur Stefansson (Part 1)

Harper's Monthly Magazine, November 1935

In 1906 I went to the Arctic with the food tastes and beliefs of the average American. By 1918, after eleven years as an Eskimo among Eskimos, I had learned things which caused me to shed most of those beliefs. Ten years later I began to realize that what I had learned was going to influence materially the sciences of medicine and dietetics. However, what finally impressed the scientists and converted many during the last two or three years, was a series of confirmatory experiments upon myself and a colleague performed at Bellevue Hospital, New York City, under the supervision of a committee representing several universities and other organizations.

In 1906 I went to the Arctic with the food tastes and beliefs of the average American. By 1918, after eleven years as an Eskimo among Eskimos, I had learned things which caused me to shed most of those beliefs. Ten years later I began to realize that what I had learned was going to influence materially the sciences of medicine and dietetics. However, what finally impressed the scientists and converted many during the last two or three years, was a series of confirmatory experiments upon myself and a colleague performed at Bellevue Hospital, New York City, under the supervision of a committee representing several universities and other organizations.

Not so long ago the following dietetic beliefs were common: To be healthy you need a varied diet, composed of elements from both the animal and vegetable kingdoms. You got tired of and eventually felt a revulsion against things if you had to eat them often. This latter belief was supported by stories of people who through force of circumstances had been compelled, for instance, to live for two weeks on sardines and crackers and who, according to the stories, had sworn that so long as they lived they never would touch sardines again. The Southerners had it that nobody can eat a quail a day for thirty days.

There were subsidiary dietetic views. It was desirable to eat fruits and vegetables, including nuts and coarse grains. The less meat you ate the better for you. If you ate a good deal of it, you would develop rheumatism, hardening of the arteries, and high blood pressure, with a tendency to breakdown of the kidneys - in short, premature old age. An extreme variant had it that you would live more healthy, happily, and longer if you became a vegetarian.

Specifically it was believed, when our field studies began, that without vegetables in your diet you would develop scurvy. It was a "known fact" that sailors, miners, and explorers frequently died of scurvy "because they did not have vegetables and fruits." This was long before Vitamin C was publicized.

The addition of salt to food was considered either to promote health or to be necessary for health. This is proved by various yarns, such as that African tribes make war on one another to get salt; that minor campaigns of the American Civil War were focused on salt mines; and that all herbivorous animals are ravenous for salt. I do not remember seeing a critical appendix to any of these views, suggesting for instance, that Negro tribes also make war about things which no one ever said were biological essentials of life; that tobacco was a factor in Civil War campaigns without being a dietetic essential; and that members of the deer family in Maine which never have salt or show desire for it, are as healthy as those in Montana which devour quantities of it and are forever seeking more.

A belief I was destined to find crucial in my Arctic work, making the difference between success and failure, life and death, was the view that man cannot live on meat alone. The few doctors and dietitians who thought you could were considered unorthodox if not charlatans. The arguments ranged from metaphysics to chemistry: Man was not intended to be carnivorous - you knew that from examining his teeth, his stomach, and the account of him in the Bible. As mentioned, he would get scurvy if he had no vegetables in meat. The kidneys would be ruined by overwork. There would be protein poisoning and, in general hell to pay.

With these views in my head and, deplorably, a number of others like them, I resigned my position as assistant instructor in anthropology at Harvard to become anthropologist of a polar expedition. Through circumstances and accidents which are not a part of the story, I found myself that autumn the guest of the Mackenzie River Eskimos.

The Hudson's Bay Company, whose most northerly post was at Fort McPherson two hundred miles to the south had had little influence on the Eskimos during more than half a century; for it was only some of them who made annual visits to the trading post; and then they purchased no food but only tea, tobacco, ammunition and things of that sort. But in 1889 the whaling fleet had begun to cultivate these waters and for fifteen years there had been close association with sometimes as many as a dozen ships and four to five hundred men wintering at Herschel Island, just to the west of the delta. During this time a few of the Eskimos had learned some English and perhaps one in ten of them had grown to a certain extent fond of white man's foods.

But now the whaling fleet was gone because the bottom had dropped out of the whalebone market, and the district faced an old-time winter of fish and water. The game, which might have supplemented the fish some years earlier, had been exterminated or driven away by the intensive hunting that supplied meat to the whaling fleet. There was a little tea, but not nearly enough to see the Eskimos through the winter - this was the only element of the white man's dietary of which they were really fond and the lack of which would worry them. So I was facing a winter of fish without tea. For the least I could do, an uninvited guest, was to pretend a dislike for it.

The issue of fish and water against fish and tea was, in any case, to me six against a half dozen. For I had had a prejudice against fish all my life. I had nibbled at it perhaps once or twice a year at course dinners, always deciding that it was as bad as I thought. This was pure psychology of course, but I did not realize it.

I was in a measure adopted into an Eskimo family the head of which knew English. He had grown up as a cabin boy on a whaling ship and was called Roxy, though his name was Memoranna. It was early September, we were living in tents, the days were hot but it had begun to freeze during the nights, which were now dark for six to eight hours.

The community of three or four families, fifteen or twenty individuals, was engaged in fishing. With long poles, three or four nets were shoved out from the beach about one hundred yards apart. When the last net was out the first would be pulled in, with anything from dozens to hundreds of fish, mostly ranging in weight from one to three pounds, and including some beautiful salmon trout. From knowledge of other white men the Eskimos consider these to be most suitable for me and would cook them specially, roasting them against the fire. They themselves ate boiled fish.

Trying to develop an appetite, my habit was to get up soon after daylight, say four o'clock, shoulder my rifle, and go off after breakfasts on a hunt south across the rolling prairie, though I scarcely expected to find any game. About the middle of the afternoon I would return to camp. Children at play usually saw me coming and reported to Roxy's wife, who would then put a fresh salmon trout to roast. When I got home I would nibble at it and write in my diary what a terrible time I was having.

Against my expectation, and almost against my will, I was beginning to like the baked salmon trout when one day of perhaps the second week I arrived home without the children having seen me coming. There was no baked fish ready but the camp was sitting round troughs of boiled fish. I joined them and, to my surprise, liked it better than the baked. There after the special cooking ceased, and I ate boiled fish with the Eskimos.

II

By midwinter I had left my cabin-boy host and, for the purposes of anthropological study, was living with a less sophisticated family at the eastern edge of the Mackenzie delta. Our dwelling was a house of wood and earth, heated and lighted with Eskimo-style lamps. They burned seal or whale oil, mostly white whale from a hunt of the previous spring when the fat had been stored in bags and preserved, although the lean meat had been eaten. Our winter cooking however, was not done over the lamps but on a sheet-iron stove which had been obtained from whalers. There were twenty-three of us living in one room, and there were sometimes as many as ten visitors. The floor was then so completely covered with sleepers that the stove had to be suspended from the ceiling. The temperature at night was round 60*F. The ventilation was excellent through cold air coming up slowly from below by way of a trap door that was never closed and the heated air going out by a ventilator in the roof.

Everyone slept completely naked - no pajama or night shirts. We used cotton or woolen blankets which had been obtained from the whalers and from the Hudson's Bay Company.

In the morning, about seven o'clock, winter-caught fish, frozen so hard that they would break like glass, were brought in to lie on the floor till they began to soften a little. One of the women would pinch them every now and then until, when she found her finger indented them slightly, she would begin preparations for breakfast. First she cut off the head and put them aside to be boiled for the children in the afternoon (Eskimos are fond of children, and heads are considered the best part of the fish). Next best are the tails, which are cut off and saved for the children also. The woman would then slit the skin along the back and also along the belly and getting hold with her teeth, would strip the fish somewhat as we peel a banana, only sideways where we peel bananas, endways.

Thus prepared, the fish were put on dishes and passed around. Each of us took one and gnawed it about as an American does corn on the cob. An American leaves the cob; similarly we ate the flesh from the outside of the fish, not touching the entrails. When we had eaten as much as we chose, we put the rest on a tray for dog feed.

After breakfast all the men and about half the women would go fishing, the rest of the women staying at home to keep house. About eleven o'clock we came back for a second meal of frozen fish just like the breakfast. At about four in the afternoon the working day was over and we came home to a meal of hot boiled fish.

Also we came home to a dwelling so heated by the cooking that the temperature would range from 85* to 100*F. or perhaps even higher - more like our idea of a Turkish bath than a warm room. Streams of perspiration would run down our bodies, and the children were kept busy going back and forth with dippers of cold water of which we naturally drank great quantities.

Just before going to sleep we would have a cold snack of fish that had been left over from dinner. Then we slept seven or eight hours and the routine of the day began once more.

After some three months as a guest of the Eskimos I had acquired most of their food tastes. I had to agree that fish is better boiled than cooked any other way, and that the heads (which we occasionally shared with the children) were the best part of the fish. I no longer desired variety in the cooking, such as occasional baking - I preferred it always boils if it was cooked. I had become as fond of raw fish as if I had been a Japanese. I like fermented (therefore slightly acid) whale oil with my fish as well as ever I liked mixed vinegar and olive oil with a salad. But I still had two reservations against Eskimo practice; I did not eat rotten fish and I longed for salt with my meals.

There were several grades of decayed fish. The August catch had been protected by longs from animals but not from heat and was outright rotten. The September catch was mildly decayed. The October and later catches had been frozen immediately and were fresh. There was less of the August fish than of any other and, for that reason among the rest, it was a delicacy - eaten sometimes as a snack between meals, sometimes as a kind of dessert and always frozen, raw.

In midwinter it occurred to me to philosophize that in our own and foreign lands taste for a mild cheese is somewhat plebeian; it is at least a semi-truth that connoisseurs like their cheeses progressively stronger. The grading applies to meats, as in England where it is common among nobility and gentry to like game and pheasant so high that the average Midwestern American or even Englishman of a lower class, would call them rotten.

I knew of course that, while it is good form to eat decayed milk products and decayed game, it is very bad form to eat decayed fish. I knew also that the view of our populace that there are likely to be "ptomaines" in decaying fish and in the plebeian meats; but it struck me as an improbable extension of the class-consciousness that ptomaines would avoid the gentleman's food and attack that of a commoner.

These thoughts led to a summarizing query; If it is almost a mark of social distinction to be able to eat strong cheeses with a straight face and smelly birds with relish, why is it necessarily a low taste to be fond of decaying fish? On that basis of philosophy, though with several qualms, I tried the rotten fish one day, and if memory servers, like it better than my first taste of Camembert. During the next weeks I became fond of rotten fish.

About the fourth month of my first Eskimo winter I was looking forward to every meal (rotten or fresh), enjoying them, and feeling comfortable when they were over. Still I kept thinking the boiled fish would taste better if only I had salt. From the beginning of my Eskimo residence I had suffered from this lack. On one of the first few days, with the resourcefulness of a Boy Scout, I had decided to make myself some salt, and had boiled sea water till there was left only a scum of brown powder. If I had remembered as vividly my freshman chemistry as I did the books about shipwrecked adventurers, I should have know in advance that the sea contains a great many chemicals besides sodium chloride, among them iodine. The brown scum tasted bitter rather than salty. A better chemist could no doubt have refined the product. I gave it up, partly through the persuasion of my host, the English speaking Roxy.

The Mackenzie Eskimos, Roxy told me, believe that what is good for grown people is good for children and enjoyed by them as soon as they get used to it. Accordingly they teach the use of tobacco when a child is very young. It then grows to maturity with the idea that you can't get along without tobacco. But, said Roxy, the whalers have told that many whites get along without it, and he had himself seen white men who never use it, while the few white women, wives of captains, none used tobacco. (This, remember, was in 1906.)

Now Roxy had heard that white people believe that salt is good for, and even necessary for children, so they begin early to add salt to the child's food. That child then would grow up with the same attitude toward salt as an Eskimo has toward tobacco. However, said Roxy, since we Eskimos were mistaken in thinking tobacco so necessary, may it be that the white men are mistaken about salt? Pursuing the argument, he concluded that the reason why all Eskimos dislike salted food and all white men like it was not racial but due to custom. You could then, break the salt habit as easily as the tobacco habit and you would suffer no ill result beyond the mental discomfort of the first few days or weeks.

Roxy did not know, but I did as an anthropologist, that in pre-Columbian times salt was unknown or the taste of it disliked and the use of it avoided through much of North and South America. It may possibly be true that the carnivorous Eskimos in whose language the word salty, mamaitok, is synonymous with with evil-tasting, disliked salt more intensely than those Indians who were partly herbivorous. Nevertheless, it is clear that the salt habit spread more slowly through the New World from the Europeans than the tobacco habit through Europe from the Indians. Even today there are considerable areas, for instance in the Amazon basin, where the natives still abhor salt. Not believing that the races differ in their basic natures, I felt inclined to agree with Roxy that the practice of slating food is with us a social inheritance and the belief in its merits a part of our folklore.

Through this philosophizing I was somewhat reconciled to going without salt, but I was nevertheless, overjoyed when one day Ovayuak, my new host in the eastern delta, came indoors to say that a dog team was approaching which he believed to be that of Ilavinirk, a man who had worked with whalers and who possessed a can of salt. Sure enough, it was Ilavinirk, and he was delighted to give me the salt, a half-pound baking-powder can about half full, which he said he had been carrying around for two or three years, hoping sometime to meet someone who would like it for a present. He seemed almost as pleased to find that I wanted the salt as I was to get it. I sprinkled some on my boiled fish, enjoyed it tremendously, and wrote in my diary that it was the best meal I had had all winter. Then I put the can under my pillow, in the Eskimo way of keeping small and treasured things. But at the next meal I had almost finished eating before I remembered the salt. Apparently then my longing for it had been what you might call imaginary. I finished without salt, tried it at one or two meals during the next few days and thereafter left it untouched. When we moved camp the salt remained behind.

After the return of the sun I made a journey of several hundred miles to the ship Narwhal which, contrary to our expectations of the late summer, had really come in and wintered at Herschel Island. The captain was George P. Leavitt, of Portland, Maine. For the few days of my visit I enjoyed the excellent New England cooking, but when I left Herschel Island I returned without reluctance to the Eskimo meals of fish and cold water. It seemed to me that, mentally and physically, I had never been in better health in my life.

III

During the first few months of my first year in the Arctic, I acquired, though I did not at the time fully realize it, the munitions of fact and experience which have within my own mind defeated those views of dietetics reviewed at the beginning of this article. I could be healthy on a diet of fish and water. The longer I followed it the better I liked it, which meant, at least inferentially and provisionally, that you never become tired of your food if you have only one thing to eat. I did not get scurvy on the fish diet nor learn that any of my fish-eating friends ever had it. Nor was the freedom from scurvy due to the fish being eaten raw - we proved that later. (What it was due to we shall deal with in the second article of this series.) There were certainly no signs of hardening of the arteries and high blood pressure, of breakdown of the kidneys or of rheumatism.

These months on fish were the beginning of several years during which I lived on an exclusive meat diet. For I count in fish when I speak of living on meat, using "meat" and "meat diet" more as a professor of anthropology than as the editor of a housekeeping magazine. The term in this article and in like scientific discussions refers to a diet from which all things of the vegetable kingdom are absent.

To the best of my estimate then, I have lived in the Arctic for more than five years exclusively on meat and water. (This was not, of course, one five-year stretch, but an aggregate of that much time during ten years.) One member of my expeditions, Storker Storkersen, lived on an exclusive meat diet for about the same length of time while there are several who have lived on it from one to three years. These have been of many nationalities and of three races - ordinary European whites; natives of the Cape Verde Islands, who had a large percentage of Negro blood; and natives of the South Sea Islands. Neither from experience with my own men nor from what I have heard of similar cases do I find any racial difference. There are marked individual differences.

The typical method of breaking a party into a meat diet is that three of five of us leave in midwinter a base camp which has nearly or quite the best type of European mixed diet that money and forethought can provide. The novices have been told that it is possible to live on meat alone. We warn them that it is hard to get used to for the first few weeks, but assure them that eventually they will grow to like it and that any difficulties in changing diets will be due to their imagination.

These assertions the men will believe to a varying degree. I have a feeling that in the course of breaking in something like twenty individuals; two or three young men believed me completely, and that this belief collaborated strongly with their youth and adaptability in making them take readily to the meat.

Usually I think, the men believe that what I tell of myself is true for me personally, but that I am peculiar, a freak - that a normal person will not react similarly, and that they are going to be normal and have an awful time. Their past experience seems to tell them that if you eat one thing every day you are bound to tire of it. In the back of their minds there is also what they have read and heard about the necessity for a varied diet. They have specific fears of developing the ailments which they have heard of as caused by meat or prevented by vegetables.

We secure our food in the Arctic by hunting and in midwinter there is not enough good hunting light. Accordingly we carry with us from the base camp provisions for several weeks, enough to take us into the long days. During this time, as we travel away from shore, we occasionally kill a seal or a polar bear and eat their meat along with our groceries. Our men like these as an element of a mixed diet as well as you do beef or mutton.

We are not on rations. We eat all we want, and we feed the dogs what we think is good for them. When the traveling conditions are right we usually have two big meals a day, morning and evening, but when we are storm bound or delayed by open water we eat several meals to pass the time away. At the end of four, six or eight weeks at sea, we have used up all our food. We do not try to save a few delicacies to eat with the seal and bear, for experience has proved that such things are only tantalizing.

Suddenly, then we are on nothing but seal. For while our food at sea averages ten percent polar bear there may be months in which we don't see a bear. The men go at the seal loyally; they are volunteers and whatever the suffering, they have bargained for it and intend to grin and bear it. For a day or two they eat square meals. Then the appetite begins to flag and they discover as they had more than half expected, that for them personally it is going to be a hard pull or a failure. Some own up that they can't eat, while others pretend to have good appetites, enlisting the surreptitious help of a dog to dispose of their share. In extreme cases, which are usually those of the middle-aged and conservative they go two or three days practically or entirely without eating. We had no weighing apparatus; but I take it that some have lost anything from ten to twenty pounds, what with the hard work on empty stomachs. They become gloomy and grouchy and, as I once wrote, "They begin to say to each other, and sometimes to me, things about their judgment in joining a polar expedition that I cannot quote."

But after a few days even the conservatives begin to nibble at the seal meat, after a few more they are eating a good deal of it, rather under protest and at the end of three or four weeks they are eating square meals, though still talking about their willingness to give a soul or right arm for this or that. Amusingly, or perhaps instructively, they often long for ham and eggs or corned beef when, according to theory, they ought to be longing for vegetables and fruits. Some of them do hanker particularly for things like sauerkraut or orange juice; but more usually it is for hot cakes and syrup or bread and butter.

There are two ways in which to look at an abrupt change of diet - how difficult it is to get used to what you have to eat and how hard it is to be deprived of things you are used to and like. From the second angle, I take it to be physiologically significant that we have found our people, when deprived, to long equally for things which have been considered necessities of health, such as salt; for things where a drug addiction is considered to be involved, such as tobacco; and for items of that class of so-called staple foods, such as bread.

It has happened on several trips, and with an aggregate of perhaps twenty men, that they have had to break at one time their salt, tobacco, and bread habits. I have frequently tried the experiment of asking which they would prefer; salt for their meal, bread with it, or tobacco for an after-dinner smoke. In nearly every case the men have stopped to consider, nor do I recall that they were ever unanimous.

When we are returning to the ship after several months on meat and water, I usually say that the steward will have orders to cook separately for each member of the party all he wants of whatever he wants. Especially during the last two or three days, there is a great deal of talk among the novices in the part about what the choices are to be. One man wants a big dish of mashed potatoes and gravy; another a gallon of coffee and bread and butter; a third perhaps wants a stack of hot cakes with syrup and butter.

On reaching the ship each does get all he wants of what he wants. The food tastes good, although not quite so superlative as they had imagined. They have said they are going to eat a lot and they do. Then they get indigestion, headache, feel miserable, and within a week, in nine cases out of ten of those who have been on meat six months or over, they are willing to go back to meat again. If a man does not want to take part in a second sledge journey it is usually for a reason other than the dislike of meat.

Still, as just implied, the verdict depends on how long you have been on the diet. If at the end of the first ten days our men could have been miraculously rescued from the seal and brought back to their varied foods, most of them would have sworn forever after that they were about to die when rescued, and they would have vowed never to taste seal again - vows which would have been easy to keep for no doubt in such cases the thought of seal, even years later, would have been accompanied by a feeling of revulsion. If a man has been on meat exclusively for only three or four months he may or may not be reluctant to go back to it again. But if the period has been six months or over, I remember no one who was unwilling to go back to meat. Moreover, those who have gone without vegetables for an aggregate of several years usually thereafter eat a larger percentage of meat than your average citizen, if they can afford it.

End of Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Adventures in Diet - By Vilhjalmur Stefansson (Part 2)

Harper's Monthly Magazine, December 1935

Now that the experiments in diet which Karsen Anderson and I undertook at Bellevue Hospital have been accepted by the medical world, it is difficult to realize that there could have been such a storm of excitement about the announcement of the plan, such a violent clash of opinions, such near unanimity to the prediction of dire results.

The feeling that decisive controlled test were needed began to spread after I told one of the scientific heads of the Food Administration in 1918 that I had lived for an aggregate of more than five years with enjoyment on just meat and water. A turning point came in 1920 when I had an hour for explaining a meat regimen to the physicians and staff at the Mayo Clinic. The concluding phase began in 1928 when Mr. Anderson and myself entered Bellevue Hospital to give science the first chance in its history to observe human subjects while they lived through the chill of winter and the heat of summer, for twelve months, on an exclusive meat diet. We were to do it under conditions of ordinary city life.

At the beginning of our northern work in 1906 it was the accepted view among doctors and dietitians that man cannot live on meat alone. They believed specifically that a group of serious diseases were either caused directly by meat or preventable only by vegetables. Those views were still being held when the autumn of 1918, an old friend, Frederic C. Walcott (later Senator from Connecticut), decided that my experiences and the resulting opinions were revolutionary in certain fields, and introduced me to Professor Raymond Pearl of John Hopkins, who was then with the U.S. Food Administration in Washington. Pearl considered several of the things I told him upsetting to views then held; he questioned me before a stenographer, and sent the mimeographed results to a number of dietitians. Their replies varied from concurrence with him (and me) to agreement with David Hume that you are likelier to meet a thousand liars than one miracle.

Pearl was convinced that neither fibs nor miracles were involved and proposed that we write a book on dietetics. I agreed. But cares intervened and things dragged.

In 1920 I had the above-mentioned chance to speak at the Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minnesota. One of the Mayo brothers suggested that I spend two or three weeks there to have a check-over and see whether they could not find evidences of the supposed bad effects of meat. I wanted to do this but commitments in New York prevented.

Then one day while talking with the gastro-enterologist Dr. Clarence W. Lieb, I told him of my regret that I had not been able to take advantage of the Mayo check-over. Lieb said there were good doctors in New York, too, and volunteered to gather a committee of specialists who would put me through and examination as rigid as anything I could get from the Mayos.

The committee was organized, I went through the mill, and Dr. Lieb reported the findings in the Journal of the American Medical Association for July 3, 1926, "The Effects of an Exclusive Long-Continued Meat Diet." The committee had failed to discover any trace of even one of the supposed harmful effects.

With this publication the Lieb and Pearl events merge. For when the Institute of American Meat Packers wrote asking permission to reprint a large number of copies for distribution to the medical profession and to dietitians, Lieb, Pearl and I went into a huddle. The result was a letter to the Institute saying that we refused permission to reprint, but suggesting that they might get something much better worth publishing, and with right to publish it, if they gave a fund to a research institution for a series of experiments designed to check, under conditions of average city life, the problems which had arisen out of my experiences and views. For it was contended by many that an all-meat diet might work in a cold climate though not in a warm, and under the strenuous conditions of the frontier though not in common American (sedentary) business life.

We gave the meat packers warning that, if anything, the institution chosen would lean backward to make sure that nothing in the results could even be suspected of having been influenced by the source of the money.

After much negotiating, the Institute agreed to furnish the money. The organization selected was the Russell Sage Institute of Pathology. The committee in charge was to consist of leaders in the most important sciences that appeared related to the problem, and represented seven institutions:

American Museum of Natural History: Dr. Clark Wissler.
Cornell University Medical College: Dr. Walter L. Niles.
Harvard University: Drs. Lawrence J. Henderson, Earnest A. Hooton, and Percy Howe.
Institute of American Meat Packers: Dr. C. Robert Moulton.
John Hopkins University: Drs. William G. McCallum and Raymond Pearl.
Russell Sage Institute of Pathology: Drs. Eugene F. DuBois and Graham Lusk.
University of Chicago: Dr. Edwin O. Jordan.
Unattached: Dr. Clarence W. Lieb, private practice, and Vilhjalmur Stefansson.

The Chairman of the committee was Dr. Pearl. The main research work of the experiment was headed by Dr. DuBois, who is now Physician-in-Chief of the New York Hospital and was then as he still is, Medical Director of the Russell Sage Institute of Pathology. Among his collaborators were Dr. Walter S. McClellan, Dr. Henry B. Richardson, Mr. V. R. Rupp, Mr. G. F. Soderstrom, Dr. Henry J. Spencer, Dr. Edward Tolstoi, Dr. John C. Torrey and Mr. Vincent Toscani. The clinical supervision was in charge of Dr. Lieb.

After meetings of the supervising committee, the election of a smaller executive committee and much discussion, it was decided that, while the experiment would be directed at strictly scientific problems, there might be side glances now and then toward common folk beliefs and the propaganda of certain groups. For instance, our definition of a meat diet as "a diet from which all vegetable elements are excluded" would permit us to use milk and eggs, for they are not vegetables. But some vegetarians are illogical enough to allow milk and eggs; we agreed to be correspondingly illogical and exclude them. This forestalled the possible cry that we were saved from the ill effects of a vegetable-less diet by the eggs and the milk.

The aim of the project was not, as the press claimed at the time, to "prove" something or other. We were not trying to prove or disprove anything; we merely wanted to get at the facts. Every aspect of the results would be studied, but special attention would be paid to certain common views, such as that scurvy will result from the absence of vegetable elements, that other deficiency diseases may be produced, that the effect will be bad on the circulatory system and on the kidneys, that certain harmful micro-organisms will flourish in the intestinal tract, and that there will be insufficient calcium. The broad question was, of the supervising doctors and by the testimony of the subjects themselves.

The test was originally planned on me alone, but I might be struck by lightening before conclusions were reached, or I might get run over by a truck, and that would be construed, by mixed-dieters and vegetarians, as showing impairment of mental alertness and bodily vigor through the monotony and poison of meat. It was difficult to find a colleague, for you cannot make this sort of experiment on just anybody that appears if you consider two elementary cases.

Assume the news of a stock market crash that ruins them is conveyed to a number of people after they have eaten a good meal. Digestion may stop almost at the point of the mental shock. Obviously the sickness which follows that meal is not caused by the food, as such.

Or ask some impressionable friend to lunch. Serve them veal, of good quality and well cooked. When dinner is over you inquire about the veal; they will answer with the usual compliments. Then you say that your case has been proved. Rover died and they have eaten him. If your stage setting and acting have been at all adequate, a few at least of your company will make a dive from the room. What sickens them is not the meat of a dog but the idea that they have eaten dog.

The Russell Sage experiment then could not be made upon anybody controlled by any strong dietetic belief, such as that meat is harmful, that abstinence from vegetables brings trouble, that you tire of a food if you have to eat the same thing often. But almost everyone holds these or similar beliefs. So we were practically compelled to secure subjects from members of one of my expeditions; they were the only living Europeans we knew who had used meat long enough to eliminate completely the mental hazards.

One man fortunately was available. He was Karsten Anderson, a young Dane who had been a member of my third expedition. During that time he had lived an aggregate of more than a year on strictly meat and water, suffering no ill result and, in fact being on one occasion cured by meat from scurvy which he had contracted on a mixed diet. Moreover, he knew from experience of a dozen members of the expedition that his healthful enjoyment of the diet was not peculiar to himself but common to all those who had tried it, including members of three races - ordinary whites, Cape Verde Islanders with a strain of Negro blood, and South Sea Islanders.

But there were other things which made Anderson almost incredibility suitable for our test. For several years he had been working on his own in Florida spending most of practically every day outdoors, lightly clad and enjoying the benefits (such as they are) of a sub-tropical sunlight. In that mental and physical environment he had naturally been on a diet heavy in vegetable elements, and had suffered constantly from head colds, his hair was thinning steadily; and he had developed a condition involving intestinal toxemia such as would ordinarily cause a doctor to look serious and pronounce: "You must go light on meat." or "I am afraid you'll have to cut out meat entirely."

We could find no one but Anderson whose mind would leave his body unhandicapped. So, in January 1928, the test began with the two of us. It was under the direct charge of Dr. DuBois and his staff in the dietetic ward of Bellevue Hospital, New York City.

A storm of protests from friends broke upon us when the press announced that we were entering Bellevue. These were based mainly upon the report that we were going to eat our meat raw and the belief that we were using lean meat exclusively. The first was just a false rumor; the trouble under the second head was linguistic.

Eating meat raw, our friends chorused, would make us social outcasts. It is proper to serve oysters raw, and clams, in the United States; herring raw in Norway; several kinds of fish raw in Japan; and beef raw almost anywhere in the world if only you change the name and call it rare. The fashion of giving raw meat to infants was spreading, but we were babes neither in years nor in stature and could not take advantage of that dispensation.

The answer to the raw meat scare was to explain a basic procedure of our experiments - Anderson and I were to select our food by palate (so long as it was meat). It proved that in most of our meals for a year he leaned to medium cooking and I to well done.

The linguistic trouble came from a recent change of American usage. In Elizabethan English meat was any kind of food, as in the expression "meat and drink." In modern England this has narrowed down to what is implied by the rhyme about Jack Sprat eating no fat and his wife no lean, although they both ate meat. In the United States meat, in the last few years has become a synonym for lean. The meaning can become even narrower, as when somebody, usually a woman, tells you that she is strictly forbidden by her physician to touch meat, but that she is permitted all the chicken she wants, with an occasional lamb chop. To that woman meat signifies lean beef.

In the linguistic sense, then we pacified our friends by reference to Mr. and Mrs. Sprat. Our diet would be of meat in the English sense. We were just going to live under modern conditions on the food of our more or less remote ancestors; the food, too, of certain contemporary "primitive hunters."

II

During our first three weeks in Bellevue Hospital we were fed measured quantities of what might be called a standard mixed diet; fruits, cereals, bacon and eggs, that sort of thing for breakfast; meats, vegetables including fruits for lunch and dinner. During this time various specialists examined us from practically every angle that seemed pertinent.

Most tedious, and let us hope correspondingly valuable, were the calorimeter studies. With no food since the evening before, we would go in the late morning to the calorimeter room and sit quite for an hour to get over the physiological effect of having perhaps walked up a single flight of stairs. Then as effortlessly as we could, we slid into calorimeters which were like big coffins with glass sides, and everybody waited about an hour or so until we had got over the disturbance of having slid in. The box was now closed up, and for three hours we lay there as nearly motionless as we could well be while a corps of scientists visible through the glass puttered about and studied our chemical and other physiological processes. We were not permitted to read and cautioned even against thinking about anything particularly pleasant or particularly disagreeable, for thoughts and feelings heat or cool you, speed things up or slow them down, play hob generally with "normal" processes.

(Dr. DuBois told of a calorimeter test ruined by mental disturbance. A nervous Romanian had developed an intense dislike for a fellow-patient named Kelly. During the second hour of an experiment that had been going very well, Max caught a glimpse of the hated Kelly through the window. This raised his metabolism ten percent during that whole hour.)

With the air we breathed and the rest of our intakes and excretions carefully analyzed, with our blood chemistry determined and a check on such things as the billions of living organisms which inhabit the human intestinal tract, we were ready for the meat.

During the three weeks of mixed diet and preliminary check-up, we had been free to come and go. Now we were placed under lock and key. Neither of us was permitted at any time, day or night to be out of sight of a doctor or nurse. This was in part the ordinary rigidity of a controlled scientific experiment, but it was in some part a bow to the skepticism of the mixed diet advocates and to the emotional storms which were sweeping the vegetarian realms.

Not was the skepticism and excitement all newspaper talk. One of the leading European authorities, most orthodox and belonging to no particular school, was touring the United States. He called on us during the preliminary three weeks and assured the presiding physicians most solemnly that we should be unable to go more than four or five days on meat. He had tried it out himself on experimental human subjects who usually broke down in about three days. These breakdowns, I thought, were of psychological antecedents; but our European authority instituted they were strictly psychological - quite independent of emotions.

The experiment started smoothly with Andersen, who was permitted to eat in such quantity as he liked such things as he liked, provided only that they came under our definition of meat - steaks, chops, brains fried in bacon fat, boiled short-ribs, chicken, fish, liver and bacon. In my case there was a hitch, in a way foreseen.

For I had published in 1913, on pages 140-142 of My Life with the Eskimo, an account of how some natives and I became ill when we had to go two or three weeks on lean meat, caribou so skinny that there was no appreciable fat behind the eyes or in the marrow. So when Dr. DuBois suggest that I start the meat period by eating as large quantities as I possibly could of chopped fatless muscle, I predicted trouble. But he countered by citing my own experience where illness had not come until after two or three weeks, and he now proposed lean for only two or three days. So I gave in.

The chief purpose of placing me abruptly on exclusively lean was that there would be a sharp contrast with Andersen who was going to be on a normal meat diet, consisting of such proportions of lean and fat as his own taste determined.

As said, in the Arctic we had become ill during the second or third fatless week. I now became ill on the second fatless day. The time difference between Bellevue and the Arctic was due no doubt mainly to the existence of a little fat, here and there in our northern caribou - we had eaten the tissue from behind the eyes, we had broken the bones for marrow, and in doing everything we could to get fat we had evidently secured more than we realized. At Bellevue the meat, carefully scrutinized, had been as lean as such muscle tissue can be. Then, in the Arctic we had eaten tendons and other indigestible matter, we had chewed the soft ends of bones, getting a deal of bulk that way when we were trying to secure fat. What we ate at Bellevue contained no bulk material, so that my stomach could be compelled to hold a much larger amount of lean.

The symptoms brought on at Bellevue by an incomplete meat diet (lean without fat) were exactly the same as in the Arctic, except that they came on faster - diarrhea and a feeling of general baffling discomfort.

Up north the Eskimos and I had been cured immediately when we got some fat. Dr. DuBois now cured me the same way, by giving me fat sirloin steaks, brains fried in bacon fat, and things of that sort. In two or three days I was all right, but I had lost considerable weight.

III

For the first three weeks I was watched day and night by the Institute staff. My exercise was supposed to be about that of an average business man. I went out for walks, but always under guard. If I telephoned, the attendant stood at the door of the booth; if I went into a shop, he was never more than a few feet away; and he was always vigilant. As Dr. DuBois explained, and as I well knew in advance, this was not because the supervising staff were suspicious of me but rather because they wanted to be able to say that they knew of their own knowledge my complete abstinence from all solids and liquids, except those which I received in Bellevue and which I ate and drank under the watch of attendants.

But my affairs unfortunately demanded that I travel widely through the United States and Canada. This was an added reason why Andersen had been secured for the experiment. When after three weeks, they had to put me on parole, so to speak, they retained him under lock and key for a total of something over 90 days.

Those who believed that a meat diet would lead to death had set at anything from four to fifteen days the point where Dr. Lieb, as clinical supervisor, would have to call a halt in view of danger to the subjects. Those who expected a slower breakdown had placed the appearance of the dread symptoms long before 90 days. In any case, Anderen reported back to the hospital constantly after he left it and I whenever I was in town.

After my three weeks and Andersen's thirteen, and with the constant analyses of excretions and blood when we came back to the hospital for check-ups, the doctors felt certain they would catch us if we broke diet. Moreover, long before the thirteen weeks ended they had satisfied themselves that Andersen had no longing for fruits or other vegetable materials and therefore, no motive for breach of contract.

Toward the end of the covenanted year Andersen and I returned to Bellevue for final intensive studies of some weeks on the meat diet, and then our first three weeks on a mixed diet. At this end of the experiment all went smoothly with me, but not so with Andersen.

My trouble, it will be remembered, had been that at the outset they stuffed me with lean, permitting no fat. His difficulty , or at least annoyance, began on the second day after he completed a year on the meat (January 25, 1929) when they asked him to eat all the fat he could, to the nausea limit, permitting only a tiny bit of lean, about 45 grams per day. There they kept him on the verge of nausea for a week. The second week they added his first taste of vegetables in a year, thrice-cooked cabbage netting about 35 grams of carbohydrate per day. The third week they omitted the cabbage but retained the high proportion of fat to lean.

These three weeks, Andersen says, were the only difficult part of the experiment. Looking back at it now, he thinks if it were possible to separate the nausea from the other unpleasantness there would have been a good deal left over - that he wasn't, properly speaking, well at the end of the third week. However, that is speculation if not imagination.

Returning to facts, we have the ominous one that pneumonia epidemic was sweeping New York. The hospital was crowded with patients; some of the staff got the disease, and with them Andersen. It was Type II pneumonia in his case, and the physicians were gravely worried, for this type was proving deadly in that epidemic, carrying off fifty percent of its Bellevue victims. Andersen, however, reacted quickly to treatment, ran an unusually short course, and convalesced rapidly.

IV

The broad results of the experiment were, so far as Andersen and I could tell, and so far as the supervising physicians could tell, that we were in at least as good average health during the year as we had been during the three mixed-diet weeks at the start. We thought our health had been a little better than average. We enjoyed and prospered as well on the meat in midsummer as in midwinter, and felt no more discomfort from the heat than our fellow New Yorkers did.

In view of beliefs that are strangely current it is worth emphasizing that we liked our meat as fat in July as in January. This ought not to surprise Americans (though it usually does) for they know or have heard that fat pork is a staple and relished food of the Negro in Mississippi. Our Negro literature is rich with the praise of opossum fat, nor did Negroes develop the taste for fats in our Southern States for Carl Akerly relates from tropical Africa such yarns of fat gorging as have not yet been surpassed from the Arctic. A frequent complaint of travelers in Spain is against foods that swim in oil and there are similar complaints when we visit Latin America. We find, when we stop to think that many if not most tropical people love greasy food.

Then there is the parallel belief that the largest meat consumption is in cold countries. True, the hundred-percent centers are way up north, the Eskimos, Samoyeds, Chukchis. But the heaviest meat eaters who speak English are the Australians, tropical and sub-tropical., while the nearest you come to an exclusive meat among people of European stock is in tropical Argentina where the cowboys live on beef and maté. They like their meat fat and (so an Argentinian New Yorker tells me) will threaten to quit work, or at least did twenty years ago, if you attempt to feed them in any considerable part on cereal, greens, and fruits.

It appears that, excepting as tastes are controlled by propaganda and fashion, the longing for fat, summer or winter, depends on what else you eat. If yours is a meat diet then you simply must have fat with your lean; other wise you would sicken and die. But since fats, sugars, and starches are in most practical respects dietetically equivalent, you eat more of any one of them on a mixed diet if you decrease the combined amount of the other two.

Sir Hubert Wilkins, when we were living in the Arctic together, both living exclusively on meats, told me what remains my best single instance of how fats are crowded out by commerce, fashion and expense. The expense is frequently not the least fat, which is only about twice as nourishing as sugar, costs, as I write at my neighborhood grocery 50 cents per pound (bacon) or 35 cents a pound (butter) while sugar is only 5 1/2.

Sir Hubert's father, the first white child born in South Australia, told that when he was young the herdsman, who were the majority of