David Kessler’s new book is titled “The End of Overeating”. It is a bit of a misleading title; “An Explanation for Overeating” would’ve been more accurate (though probably also less marketable). The misdirection continues on the table of contents, where we find a whopping forty-eight chapters divided amongst six main parts. There’s nothing wrong with the chapter breaks, but the book really only has two parts. The first, and vastly better one, is an explanation of why some people eat far more food than they need. It focuses on brain chemistry and neuroscience instead of psychology and willpower, and it’s a very interesting read. The second part, which takes up less than a fifth of the book and feels almost like an afterthought, is a rather banal instruction on how to eat less. It succumbs to the worst kinds of diet book cliches and should in no way be held against the rest of the manuscript.
Let’s start with the good parts, which are very good indeed. Using efficient prose that does not require a biology degree to understand, Kessler explains some of the physiological mechanisms of eating. He then goes on to explain how modern food science and industry have learned to exploit these mechanisms for fun and profit. He’s a doctor, so he can’t help but tsk-tsk a little at food companies and chain restaurants, but he also recognizes that industrial food production is a necessity and is here to stay.
Kessler’s main point is that human beings as a species have evolved to chase salt, fat and sugar. Not only do we find foods that contain these items tasty, but our brains reward us for locating them. It is when these reward mechanisms are thrown out of whack by the unlimited availability of these treats that problems begin to arise. A significant minority of people have reward response systems so skewed that, regardless of whether or not they are hungry, they will either eat anything that’s placed in front of them or be seriously distracted by the effort of not eating. Speaking with a dizzying array of scientists, in and out of academia, Kessler clearly describes the mechanisms behind this and experiments that demonstrate it.
In just the last thirty years or so the science behind food (and the presentation of food) has become so exquisitely refined that it’s changing the way our brains process eating. In one memorable example, modern preschoolers are less able to compensate for overeating than their predecessors of just fifteen years ago. In this case “compensate” is a technical term, it means that if you give a normal four year old a high-calorie juice drink, he will naturally reduce his caloric intake the rest of the day to compensate. His body is a self regulating system that, without any conscious action from him, keeps his food intake within limits. There have always been fat kids who lack this kind of self regulation, the difference is that now there are more of them.
This type of “dysregulation” continues up the age ladder, for both populations and individuals. So not only are fat kids more likely to become fat adults, but as children age even the skinny ones become more accustomed to what Kessler causes “hyperpalatable” foods. Over time those foods, scientifically calibrated to be fun to eat, tasty as hell and easy to swallow, will knock more of them off their regulatory balance. Once that happens the brain’s reward system has essentially been hijacked. People begin eating for the pleasure rush it produces. Satiety no longer suppresses craving and overeating becomes a conditioned response to food advertising, vending machines and other unavoidable stimulus.
Kessler described this vicious and self reinforcing circle convincingly, at least for this layman. But Kessler is a doctor, and having isolated and identified this ailment he feels compelled to offer a remedy. It is here that the book falls to pieces. At the beginning Kessler scrupulously notes that this kind of condition only affects some people. Towards the end Kessler switches into self help mode and begins copiously using the universal word “you”:
The elements of the Food Rehab program outlined here have been used and tested in other contexts and still need to be rigorously evaluated for the treatment of conditioned hypereating. Nonetheless, I believe they can offer you some help.
He then walks, rather blithely, right into the trap of stigmatizing eating in general:
We can lead long and healthy lives without consuming alcohol, tobacco, or other drugs of abuse, so treatments for those addictions can be built around the principal of abstinence. But since we can’t survive without eating, we need other strategies for changing our perception of foods that are superstimulants and for keeping them at bay.
That is a pretty good distillation of the odious “gospel of naught” so thoroughly debunked by Barry Glassner in “The Gospel of Food”. Shortly after the above passage, he even succumbs to that most one-size-fits-all of diet tropes: the calorie restriction (1200-1500 a day for “just-right” eating).
Kessler has identified a very real problem, unfortunately the only solutions to it he can come up with are bland and prosaic suggestions about how to mentally coach yourself to avoid self destructive eating behaviors. He is an extraordinarily accomplished doctor who has served as the dean of two different medical schools and as an FDA commissioner. Surely he has some thoughts on how foods like these can in some way be regulated or bettered? Nobody’s going to vote to ban Oreos or gargantuan appetizers at Chili’s, but the reasoned voice of public policy certainly deserves a say in something that negatively affects the health of millions of Americans. Yet Kessler remains curiously quiet on the subject, save a presentation he gave to some food executives about the real world effects of their products. It is a wasted opportunity.
Nevertheless, the first 80% of the book is an excellent and easy read. It explains the real world consequences of having a food industry (armed with modern science and rich budgets) pursue the single minded goal of greater consumption. Skip the dessert.
