There’s not an ingredient that causes obesity. What causes obesity is a food culture driven by an optimizer that wants to put more food into bodies; that uses all manner of means, conscious and unconscious, to cause more food to go into bodies. And a major approach is avoiding satiety and forming habits that avoid satiety, because satiety is the signal that causes food to stop going into the body.
It’s not that people don’t respond to health claims printed on food products. It’s that printing health claims on food products is entirely subservient to getting more food into bodies than otherwise would get into them.
Traditional human food culture is optimized to, among other things, get nutrition out of foodstuffs. Industrial food is optimized to sell more foodstuffs. These are not the same goals … and as you point out, the sales optimizer runs a tighter loop than the human food culture optimizer. Sales runs on a quarterly cycle; human food culture runs on a generational cycle. The sales optimizer gets to control the (much slower) development of lifelong food preferences; and this means it gets to form habits that deliver more food into bodies.
This is a “temporary Goodhart effect” on the same scale as the temporary boom in lung cancer in the 20th century. And on the personal level, a lot of this cashes out as cultural patterns of relating to food the way a smoker relates to cigarettes; as a matter of craving and habit, of “just one more, even though I know it’s bad for me,” food as fun, food as rebellious fun specifically (“sinfully rich chocolate!”), food as non-satiating social activity, and so on.
The optimizer consistently reinforces these patterns, because doing so sells more food. If you don’t get your consumers to form habits around your product, you sell less product, and you get bought out by the company that knows marketing better. You sell more corn chips if you actually try to get more corn chips into bodies … which is to say, if you actually try to get people to do the thing that causes obesity.
Tobacco was introduced to Europeans in the 1600s, but lung cancer didn’t really catch on until the 20th century because that was when industrial manufacture and marketing of cigarettes made it possible to get much more tobacco into bodies; to create not only habits but two-pack-a-day habits. Cigarette smoking was consciously promoted into a central role in culture, from the workplace (the smoke break) to the bedroom (the post-sex smoke). The amount of tobacco consumed per capita increased dramatically, and that’s when the public health effects became overwhelmingly clear. (And smoking peaked around 1970 and has been in decline ever since. There’s the temporary boom.)
Industrial food has done the same. The food sales optimizer wants to get more food into bodies, just as the cigarette sales optimizer wanted to get more tobacco into bodies. And the consequence of putting more food into bodies is obesity.
There’s not an ingredient that causes obesity. What causes obesity is a food culture driven by an optimizer that wants to put more food into bodies; that uses all manner of means, conscious and unconscious, to cause more food to go into bodies. And a major approach is avoiding satiety and forming habits that avoid satiety, because satiety is the signal that causes food to stop going into the body.
It’s not that people don’t respond to health claims printed on food products. It’s that printing health claims on food products is entirely subservient to getting more food into bodies than otherwise would get into them.
Traditional human food culture is optimized to, among other things, get nutrition out of foodstuffs. Industrial food is optimized to sell more foodstuffs. These are not the same goals … and as you point out, the sales optimizer runs a tighter loop than the human food culture optimizer. Sales runs on a quarterly cycle; human food culture runs on a generational cycle. The sales optimizer gets to control the (much slower) development of lifelong food preferences; and this means it gets to form habits that deliver more food into bodies.
This is a “temporary Goodhart effect” on the same scale as the temporary boom in lung cancer in the 20th century. And on the personal level, a lot of this cashes out as cultural patterns of relating to food the way a smoker relates to cigarettes; as a matter of craving and habit, of “just one more, even though I know it’s bad for me,” food as fun, food as rebellious fun specifically (“sinfully rich chocolate!”), food as non-satiating social activity, and so on.
The optimizer consistently reinforces these patterns, because doing so sells more food. If you don’t get your consumers to form habits around your product, you sell less product, and you get bought out by the company that knows marketing better. You sell more corn chips if you actually try to get more corn chips into bodies … which is to say, if you actually try to get people to do the thing that causes obesity.
Tobacco was introduced to Europeans in the 1600s, but lung cancer didn’t really catch on until the 20th century because that was when industrial manufacture and marketing of cigarettes made it possible to get much more tobacco into bodies; to create not only habits but two-pack-a-day habits. Cigarette smoking was consciously promoted into a central role in culture, from the workplace (the smoke break) to the bedroom (the post-sex smoke). The amount of tobacco consumed per capita increased dramatically, and that’s when the public health effects became overwhelmingly clear. (And smoking peaked around 1970 and has been in decline ever since. There’s the temporary boom.)
Industrial food has done the same. The food sales optimizer wants to get more food into bodies, just as the cigarette sales optimizer wanted to get more tobacco into bodies. And the consequence of putting more food into bodies is obesity.