bearing blog


bear – ing n 1  the manner in which one comports oneself;  2  the act, power, or time of bringing forth offspring or fruit; 3 a machine part in which another part turns [a journal ~];  pl comprehension of one’s position, environment, or situation;   5  the act of moving while supporting the weight of something [the ~ of the cross].


  • Ramen hacks.

    If your kids like plain ramen, and you don't, maybe you could use these ramen hacks to jazz up your portion and avoid making two lunches.

    I think I might try one of these next time I am serving lunch to 11 kids and three moms.  For the moms.

    Who doesn't like noodles with some greens, poached egg, and sriracha sauce?  But hey, that's so traditional it's almost boring.  On the other hand — Doesn't the ramen-topped shepherd's pie (near the bottom) look twelve kinds of awesome?  Come on.  Admit it.  


  • Secrets of Feeding a Healthy Family” review part 1: What I learned from reading the appendices first.

    So I finally gave up on reading Ellyn Satter's Secrets of Feeding a Healthy Family forwards, and started reading it backwards instead, starting with the appendix.  I'm not sure why, but I found that easier — maybe I just wanted the details first.  Also, I was kind of curious what kind of publications the author cited.  

    It seems that many of her publications appear in The Journal of Nutrition Education and Behavior, which is not a periodical I am familiar with.  This is the journal of the Society for Nutrition Education, an educational and advocacy organization.  So, more of an education journal than a nutrition-science journal.   Skimming through the abstracts, I see a lot of papers that are trying to answer the questions:  How do the messages that people hear influence the food choices they make?   How do people learn about nutrition?  What really helps people make positive changes?

    All these are good questions to ask, especially if you are a parent, an educator, or a blogger who likes to write motivational posts about healthy, temperate eating.  It's worth noting that this is not the same question as "what food choices should I make to be physically healthier" or "how do I lose weight."

     I get the impression that Satter's area of expertise is in "how to teach children to eat well," "how to understand eating," "how to make positive choices," "how to navigate the confusing mix of food messages that we're all immersed in"  or "how to correct certain eating disorders."  Her focus isn't in biochemistry or in nutrition science:  "what kind of fat is best for you" or "how many calories should a person eat." 

    But you wind up with a little bit of overlap, because Satter does have definite ideas about what kinds of positive change are most important, and that winds up getting presented as "make this kind of change first, save that other kind of change for later."  Which sounds a little bit like "this is what you should eat."  But it's not, actually, that kind of advice.  

    So I guess I learned something useful from starting with the appendices after all.  This book is, among other things, about setting priorities for change to more positive eating.   And when it comes to priorities, Satter places nutritional content of the food considerably lower than the emotional context of the food.   So, for example, it's much more important to her that families eat regular meals together than, say, what those meals are made of.

    + +  +

    Mark has a fair amount of exposure to food, nutrition, and food-marketing research, and is skeptical about sweeping claims drawn from studies that demonstrate correlation but not causation.  So, for example, take Appendix B, "What the Research Says about Meals."  Satter presents a whole string of data, citing twenty different sources, that shows strong associations between regular family meals and good outcomes in children and adolescents.  And then she concludes the appendix with this:  

    The evidence is compelling… the day-to-day routine of structured, sit-down family meals and snacks reassures children that they are loved and that they will be provided for — nutritionally and in all other ways.

    Well, no.  The evidence actually is that children who have regular family meals tend to be healthier and do better and school and things than children who don't — possibly because regular family meals are a marker for success, not a cause of it.  "When you start advising people to make a change, you'd better be sure that it's causation and not just correlation," warns Mark.  Now, I tend to think about many interventions-correlated-with-good-stuff, "Why not try it and see if it works?" but then, I'm biased towards thinking that something like family meals are a good end in themselves.  

    Mark has a point:  If you start telling people that they should eat regular family meals together, you're telling a big chunk of the population, "You don't parent your children right… the way you do it is wrong… you might be to blame if your children have problems later."  These messages aren't without consequence, especially for the people who don't go on to make the recommended changes because of hardship or conflicting desires or whatever.  And if in fact family meals don't cause good outcomes, well, then your advice didn't actually help anyone.

    So, there's a bit of a grain of salt to take the advice with:  correlation, not necessarily causation.  On the other hand, many of Satter's readers may desire things like regular family meals for their own sake, whether or not it makes the children better-behaved, smarter, or fitter.  And there's some advice in here about how to do it, even if you don't know how.  Believing that making some of these changes might help your family's physical and emotional health could provide some useful motivation.   

    Another sweeping statement shows up in Appendix D, "BMI Mortality, Morbidity, and Health:  Resolving the Weight Dilemma."  After presenting some data that demonstrates what we already know (it's hard to lose weight) and what many people don't know (overweight isn't as strongly associated with bad health as a lot of people think it is), she goes on to advise:

    [Weight loss] can't be achieved anyway… instead of trying for weight loss, focus on improving your health behaviors.  Establish goals that can be achieved:  

    • Develop and maintain eating competence.
    • Develop sustainable patterns of activity.
    • Learn to feel good about yourself, just as you are.

    She clearly believes that weight loss can't be achieved.  I'm all for developing eating competence, for learning to fit exercise into your life, and for getting rid of unhelpful negative thought patterns, but I don't like the "it's hopeless" attitude toward permanent weight loss.    

    But in one sense she's correct that weight loss can't be achieved directly.   A weight loss "goal" isn't a real "goal" because it's not something you can decide to reach.  You can't exactly choose to lose weight.  What you can choose to do is change your behavior, and that might help with the weight loss you hope for, or it might not.  Desiring behavior change for its own sake is something I've written a lot about.   A behavior goal — unlike a weight-loss goal — is something that can be achieved merely by choice.  And such behavior goals include eating well and getting exercise.

    ("Learn to feel good about yourself just as you are," though… I'm having trouble finding any evidence that this is associated with better outcomes.  This sounds like touchy-feelyism to me.  And why should I work hard to develop eating competence or sustainable activity — why should I try to improve anything at all about myself — if I "feel good about myself just as I am?"  No, better to remain always aware of our shortcomings and always ready to work on them.  But this is obviously a philosophical difference, not a difference in expertise, between her and me.  I think it's an error to claim that science supports this kind of "should" philosophy — either hers or mine.)

    Because it's late, I'm going to stop here, even though there's more to be said about the appendices.  I'm particularly interested in what she has to say about "restrained eating," something she says is associated with bad outcomes.  A fair question:  Is "restrained eating" as Satter defines it the same as eating temperately?  Is "unrestrained eating" as Satter defines it the same as eating gluttonously?  Or is the unrestrained-restrained axis orthogonal to the temperance-gluttony axis?  Tune in later and I'll think out loud some more.


  • Ah, Lent. And upcoming thoughts.

    All my blog readers disappear, and so do I, a little bit.

    No, I didn't give up blogging for Lent, though I did prune back my RSS reader quite a bit.  I do have a few things percolating around that I'll be writing about soon.

    For instance, some weeks ago commenter and blogger Jamie asked me if I wouldn't pretty please read a particular book by Ellyn Satter, Secrets of Feeding a Healthy Family, and then offer my opinion.  I am here to report that it is a very interesting book, that I am not done with it yet, that I struggled with it for a few days before finally settling on reading it backwards (starting with the appendices), and that so far I have several opinions.  

    One:  it's not a very easy book to digest, something about the density of informati0n, but I will do my best to distill it for you when I write my real review (or, more likely, reviews, since the book's three parts could have been three separate books, but aren't — for one very good reason).

    The three parts, by the way, break down like this:  (1) how to feed yourself, (2) how to feed children ("get children to eat"), and (3) how to cook.

    Two:  there are some extremely useful organizational principles — I mean mentally organizational principles, not ways to make things easy to find in your freezer.  Good ways to think about, for instance, how to rank the competing values that are often in play when we decide what to eat, or exactly what it is we're teaching children when we set out to feed them.

    Three:  I am not really the intended audience for two-thirds of this book, but some of the extremely useful organizational principles are found in the parts of the book that I would think I wouldn't need to read.   What I'm getting at:   The "how to eat" and "how to cook" parts are very, very, very basic.   But it's in there that some of the useful principles are to be found.

    Four:   I think this is one of those books that has a gem or two for everybody, and should probably become the How To Feed Yourself bible for a small subset of the population.  There are also a lot of recommendations that make the most sense for people who have a certain set of food-related skills and/or issues, but would not really be relevant to people who possess a different  set of food-related skills and/or issues.

    Five:  The author definitely comes from the "you can't lose weight by dieting, so you might as well try to be healthy at your size" school of food writing.  My readers know I don't agree with this sentiment as a one-size-fits-all, permanent assertion, but considering her audience and the purpose of her book, I think she is not off base in making this recommendation.   

    Is that cryptic enough for you?  I will write more later.  For now, consider that your appetizer.


  • Lent, Monday one.

    Last Friday, the kids and I met Mark at church for the fish fry dinner, then he took the three younger ones off to run errands while the 10-y-o and I stuck around to attend Stations of the Cross followed by Eucharistic Benediction.  I pointed out that the booklet (it's the Liguori stations) contained the Stabat Mater in Latin as well as in parallel English translation, and out of the corner of my eye watched him happily flipping back and forth trying to make out the Latin as best he could.  It's exactly the sort of thing I would have been doing as a ten-year-old, and I had  to hide my smile.

    My mind wanders terribly during these things, but a phrase from one of the Stations jumped out at me — so to speak — and I decided right there to take it as my Lenten theme.  It's the ninth Station, "Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem:"

    "…do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children."

    I'm not sure exactly where that will take me, yet, but I think it will take me far in forty days.

    * * *

    My plans are modest.  I'm hoping to make it to an hour of adoration twice a week during Lent — just me — using about two-thirds of what's usually my school-planning time.  And I set some limits for myself on the computer, eliminating some of the extra time and also taking some of the stuff I usually read out of my RSS reader, with an eye towards serenity.  Above that, I'm going to try tentatively giving up some items of food, but on a day-by-day basis.   I swore off giving up food-type things for Lent a couple of years ago, because I felt it exacerbated my eating disorders, but I'm feeling stronger about those now and so I think I'm ready to give it a try again, but carefully.  I also have some spiritual reading lined up.

    So, not one big thing-to-do-every-day, but several small things that hopefully will add up to doing something every day.


  • Questions.

    In response to a reader question, agnostic sci-fi writer John Scalzi explains why he encourages his daughter to take an interest in faiths and in Christian faiths in particular.

    Worth reading, and I think many of his points apply to people who practice a faith and who naturally want their children educated deeply in it.  We shouldn't be afraid to encourage them to learn about other faiths, presented as fairly as possible (which doesn't mean, "their faith is as correct in its teachings as our faith;" but which does mean "here is what they believe, set out in the same kind of language they would use.")   Where other faiths raise questions about our own, after all, is an excellent place to offer some answers. 


  • Sins magnified.

    One of my Lenten disciplines is going to be to avoid political outrage on the Internet.  I think I've found a helpful mantra this morning, ironically, in a political-economic blog.

    From Megan McArdle:  A useful insight about the office of the President, one that extends to politics and politicians in general, and applies to both Dems and Repubs:

    To me, a better explanation [for the Obama administration's treatment of accused leaker Bradly Manning, which some argue constitutes torture] –one that explains the fact that there's not that much daylight between Bush and Obama on these issues–is that being president makes you want to do these things.  The president has access to more information than the rest of us…

    Not only does the president hear about threats we don't, but he's the guy who gets in trouble if any of these threats come off. The combination of heightened threat-alertness, and personal risk aversion, makes him willing to do bad things to avert the potential threat. And since the president knows that he's a good person, and the people around him are basically good people, he's willing to trust them with power that no institution should have.

    …I mean, I used to think that Janet Reno was evil–SWAT teams and tanks in child custody disputes? Really? Then we had a succession of new Attorneys General who all seemed to err on the side of megalomaniacal overreach. At which point I decided that it probably wasn't the person; it was the office. When you're sitting up there in that lofty perch, hearing about all the bad things that are happening in the country, and you know that you could do a lot more to fight them if you just had a little bit more power–well, sure, maybe it's not a good idea in abstract, but you're not going to abuse it, you're just trying to solve problems. Et voila, Waco.

    So too, I suspect, with tormenting prisoners, and civil liberties. Maybe if Mark and I were president, we'd support this stuff too. Which is not, by the way, an argument for doing it. It's an argument that we need to serve as a check on the president. Because we're not going to fix it by just electing a better person to be president. Whoever we elect will still be president, with all that implies.

    I think this is a good insight because it can help us avoid the temptation to assume bad faith, stupidity, or consciously evil motives — personal evil — in the officeholders we disagree with. 

    I think if we are honest with ourselves, we have to admit that we all tend to give the guys "on our side" the benefit of the doubt while assailing the integrity of the guys on "the other side."  It's subtly dangerous to our own spirits to divide the political-social world up into good guys and bad guys. 

    Good ideas and bad ideas, or good actions and bad actions — sure!  

    Good people and evil people… stupid people and intelligent people… noble people and base people… not so much. 

    (And watch out for the temptation to insist, "I'm not saying he's an evil person, I'm saying he has evil motives!"  Since you can't actually observe motives the way you can observe actions and statements, and can only guess at them, to declare someone's motives bad is really just a circular way of declaring him a bad person:  you believe the motives to be bad because you believe him to be bad and therefore incapable of having good motives.  Fess up.)

    I get really tired of the "Obama is evil" movement, and am equally tired of the "Bush is evil" movement.  Similarly tired of the smaller "He or she is evil" movements that play out in smaller theaters, like the one going on now in the Wisconsin State Capitol building. 

    McArdle suggests that maybe it's just being President that tempts human beings to do apparently bad stuff.  Gee, I can't imagine that — holding one of the most powerful offices in the world, a severe temptation to evil acts and omissions?!?  Sarcasm aside, it also seems pretty obvious to me that men with different leanings would be tempted to a slightly different variety of evils, but also that universal desires — say, to increase one's own personal power, or to be thought well of by others, might lead to startlingly similar behaviors even by men of quite different political beliefs.  Hence McArdle's suggestion that this theory explains why President GW Bush's reviled policies towards certain prisoners appear to have been continued rather than reversed under President Obama.

    I think we would do well to reserve our indignation towards the personalities of our political opponents, even in the most upsetting of policy debates, even the ones that seem to us the starkest battlegrounds between good and evil.   Better, I think, to recognize that high offices themselves constitute high opportunities to commit dreadful sins and injustices.   Yes, they also present opportunities to do great good… which means nothing more than opportunities to commit terrible sins of omission.  

    And it's really just our preference for some sins over others that leads us to condemn some sinners over others, I think.  They're all freaking sinners, as are we.

    During this Lent, one way I'm going to temper my political outrage is by avoiding the blogs and websites that tend to exacerbate feelings of irritation.  (That's not all political blogs and websites, incidentally — some of them generally inform and entertain me without making me angry, at least if I don't go on to read the comments.)    But since it's impossible to avoid political information and opinion entirely, I think it will also help to have in my pocket the little mantra:  "It's not the person, it's the office."   Because without the publicity and power the office has granted, the officeholder's flaws would never, ever have become so magnified as to attract and hold my attention and my judgment, through my own distorted lens.


  • Just asking.

    In the comments to the last post, MrsDarwin mentioned the "Lord we just" phenomenon, which I have also noticed in ecumenical groups being led in prayer by a Protestant:

    Someone once described the sort of spontaneous group prayers as the "We just" prayers: "Lord, we just come before you today, and we just give you thanks for…"

    Curious,  I googled "Lord we just" and came up with this "How not to pray" page, presumably written by a Protestant:

    For some inexplicable reason, the word JUST shows up a lot in prayer. "Just" is used for pausing, for filler, as an adverb, for rhythm, and, well, to underscore that this is just prayer and not talking in general. Since this is not normally the case in human dialog, it is hard to explain why. This is also known as the JUST'n MARTYR PRAYER.

    "Lord, we JUST pray that you would JUST like, JUST really JUST totally…"

    The comment that this is "to underscore that this is … prayer and not talking in general" was interesting — linguistically I mean — is it serving as an interjection, a marker to denote "prayer-language?"  Maybe a cultural difference between Protestants and Catholics (or it could be a regional difference).  I have never heard a Catholic use gratuitous "justs" this way.

    Here's another example from a news article profiling some Christian mixed martial arts fighters:

    "Father, we just thank you for the opportunity to go out tonight and to train and compete," coach John Renken says. "Lord, we just pray that you protect our fighters, as well as the other guys. We pray that we will be a representation of you."

    And the comments thread on this post also seems to indicate that it's mostly a Protestant thing. 

    I wonder why that is?  Maybe the rote prayers lead us Catholics to expect a certain tone.  None of them have "just" in them.  We probably have a whole different set of verbal tics.

    "Lord, teach us to pray."


  • Rote prayer.

    Jen at Conversion Diary is going to blog the "Our Father," word by word.  I bet she comes up with some good stuff, though I hope she takes my combox advice to use the Latin as her guide — really, doesn't it make more sense to have one post entitled "Sanctificetur (May it be hallowed)" rather than one entitled "Hallowed" and another titled "Be"?  

    One commenter "Kimberlie" mentioned something that I wanted to address.

    As a convert to Catholicism, I dealt with lot’s of criticisms about “rote prayer.”

    It’s good and well to have private prayer where we open our hearts to the Lord and pour out to Him. But, just because I don’t squinch up my eyes, throw up my hands, and make a long public extemporaneous prayer and choose instead to say the “Our Father,” that my prayer is somehow less valid. Jesus gave those words to the disciples after all.

    We Catholics and our rote prayers.  I frequently offer grace before meals, or hear it offered, among non-Catholic friends.

     When I speak, I always use the Catholic formula  Bless us O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen.  (Since I started teaching their kids Latin, I've been known to say the Benedic, Domine nos….

    And, of course, our friends who are followers of Christ but who are not Catholics don't lead mealtime graces with a formula, but according to their tradition always offer some brief, appropriate, gracious, spontaneous thanksgiving.  So I have had many opportunities to contemplate the "roteness" of the Catholic way of doing things.  I find that mealtime graces offer me a convenient way of thinking about it.

    Have you ever been at a meal or a Bible study or a commencement or something like that — among Protestants will do, but really anywhere — where one person stood up and offered a prayer on behalf of the group?  

    You know, the “Dear Lord, we thank you for gathering us all here today. Thank you for the food we are about to eat and for the fellowship of our friends. We ask that you bless our work and all we do. Amen.”

    So, what did you do? Did you plug your ears and silently pray your own personal prayer during that time? Probably not, though perhaps you may have quietly added some little personalization of your own. More likely if you were among fellow believers you listened respectfully to the speaker and took his words to heart, as long as he didn’t say anything outrageous. You internally affirmed what he was saying, or as much of it as you could with honesty, and with your “Amen,” you made his words your own, and meant them.

    This is what we are doing, I think, when we repeat the prayers of the Church. We are allowing ourselves to be led in prayer, listening to and submitting to someone else’s words — for no other reason than because we are a group, and our group has a leader.  

    When we repeat the words, we are trying to take them in, make them our own, and mean what they say.   What I am doing when I begin with "Bless us O Lord, and these Thy gifts…"  is not all that different in form from the small effort I make, an effort of attention and assent, when I listen to my friends' mealtime prayers and add my "Amen" to theirs.  

    And how much more so should we conform our thoughts to the prayer led by Christ himself.


  • Could use a little advice here from the cradle Catholics.

    So one thing I really don't understand about how Lenten penances are supposed to work out within a family. 

    Do your children (older ones — say 8 year olds and up) take responsibility for their own Lenten devotion?

    As far as I know, "giving up something" for Lent is an optional devotion.  It's not optional that we have to observe Lent somehow, with prayer, fasting, penance, almsgiving.  But, say, "giving up chocolate" for Lent, that kind of thing, that's traditional but not obligatory.  Right?

    So, as a mother, I feel like my role ought to be to encourage my kids to come up with a Lenten sacrifice and follow through with it.  But I'm really uncomfortable with enforcing it in any way, or even with making gentle reminders.

    (Yes, it's my role to enforce religious obligations, e.g., Sunday Mass attendance — I'm talking about optional devotions.)

     If they were much more mature, like 16 or older, it would definitely be inappropriate for me to butt into their private spiritual lives.  Also, by that time, they should be able to take responsibility themselves for their own sacrifices — they should be totally voluntary.  I'm clear on the concept for older kids and adults.

    So should they be voluntary from the beginning?

    Let me give an example.  When my oldest was eight, he announced he was going to give up ketchup for Lent.  I thought that was a really great sacrifice  for a kid — doable, but noticeable.  For the first couple of weeks he went without ketchup.  Then one night he forgot and put it on his plate.  Just as a reminder — not at all in a punitive way, I swear — I said, "Hey, did you forget that you gave up ketchup for Lent?"   And he got this look on his face that said I know.  Please don't remind me.    A few more times that happened, and then by the end it was clear that he didn't want to give up ketchup anymore.  I stopped reminding him.  It felt wrong to "nag" about something that was technically optional and that, if he were fully grown, would be totally his own business.  It definitely felt wrong to speak to him about it at the dinner table, in front of people.  

    I get even more nervous when my son announces that he's going to give up something that I just know is going to be really hard for him.  Like, "I'll give up video games."  Great, I think, it's really a good idea, but… do you expect me to be your policeman?  Like, when you're at your friends' house and they're all playing video games, do you want me to come down the stairs and say, "Hey, 10-year-old, you told me you were giving up video games for Lent, so put down the controller?"

    I don't have an example for how to do this.  I was not a child growing up in a practicing-Catholic family.   I literally do not know how to encourage a Lenten devotion without becoming Lent Cop Mom. 

    Seriously.  Help me out here.  And if you have a blog which gets more traffic than mine, how about asking your readers?  Because I have a feeling I need a lot of ideas.

    UPDATE:  Oh, good, Jen at Conversion Diary has kindly linked to my question!  That should help.  So has the other Jennifer, Fitz at Riparians at the Gate.


  • “Training for Motherhood.”

    Here's a ten-minute "functional fitness" strength-training workout for moms, designed to keep you strong enough to pick up your heavy kids, from Kara at Mama Sweat (and Ryan McDowell and Darcy Franklin of Crossfit Minnesota).  When Darcy demonstrates picking up an item like a medicine ball or a car seat and using its weight as resistance, she notes that you can use your child's weight instead.  I assume some of us would have to work up to that…

    I've been enjoying her blog so much, I'm really looking forward to when Kara's book comes out!

    Kara explains what is "functional fitness:"

     

    You've probably heard the term "functional fitness" being thrown around a lot the last few years. (It's listed at #9 on the American College of Sports Medicine's Top 20 Fitness Trends for 2011 and is the main reason why boot camp classes are so popular.) What I once considered the territory of an occupational or physical therapist–using exercises to rehabilitate and strengthen specific muscles involved in their patient's particular activities of daily living–is catching on to the fitness masses. And why not? Why not strengthen your muscles in ways you're going to actually USE them?

    Since ditching 5-lb. dumbells (because really, do I ever do 25 reps of bicep curls with a soup can before serving it to my family?) for a 45-lb, 65-lb, 85-lb and beyond barbell I am training for motherhood: Carrying a sleeping 7-year-old from the car upstairs to her bed; lifting my 5-year-old from the ground after a fall; playing airplane with my 2-year-old high above my head.

    No doubt about it, motherhood requires some heavy lifting.

    Follow the link to Kara's post to see another video in which Ryan (the male trainer), who has small twin boys at home himself, explains what "functional fitness" means for a parent of small children.

    (I took a running clinic from Darcy a few months ago, held at that same CrossFit facility.  I was really impressed by the CrossFit philosophy, and I was very pleased with my results!)

     

     


  • Anti-boy bias.

    So there's some discussion going around about the AP story on the newest government study to show that young people are having less sex.

    The thing I noticed about the article, though, is it's yet another example of  the all-too-common media pattern:

    1.  Social scientists discover a trend.

    2.  If the trend says anything about females, the reporter must leave readers with the impression that it says something good.

    3.  If the trend says anything about males, then it must say something bad about them.

    This survey found that, compared to 2002, rates of sexual experience among young men and young women have fallen.  So that's a good sign, right?

    Well, it is if you're a high  school girl.  Learn from the AP's example:

    "It's not even on my radar," said 17-year-old Abbey King of Hinsdale, Ill., a competitive swimmer who starts her day at 5 a.m. and falls into bed at 10:30 p.m. after swimming, school, weight lifting, running, more swimming, homework and a volunteer gig working with service dogs for the disabled….

    She is on the junior board for Robert Crown Center for Health Education, a nonprofit organization that teaches sex ed to students in the Chicago area.

    She sees sex, alcohol, smoking and drugs as distractions to her goal of getting a college scholarship in swimming, she said.

    What a stellar example we have in Miss King, no kidding.

     On the other hand, if you're a guy, the reason you aren't getting laid is, likely, because you're too busy playing video games:

    [Washington, D. C. based sex educator Yvonne Fulbright] suggested that some young men aren't making time for relationships.

    "Some guys, at the end of the day, they'd rather channel their energy into music, playing their guitar or playing computer games," Fulbright said. "That's immediate gratification. People forget it takes work to woo somebody and keep her happy."

    Yes, that's it.  Teen boys and young men aren't having sex as frequently because they prefer immediate gratification.   

    I wonder why they didn't give us a concrete example of a young man who exemplifies the trend, preferring to speculate about stereotypes.  Pattern recognition, I mean.


  • Low-carb, low-impact.

    Mark sent me a .pdf of a very interesting paper the other day:  "Nitrogen and Food Production:  Proteins for Human Diets," V. Smil,  Ambio vol 31 no 2, March 2002. It got me thinking about lower-carb living and sustainability.  

    One way to think about farming:  "[A]griculture's principal objective is the production of digestible [nitrogen]."  Nitrogen is a proxy for protein, and its availability in the soil limits how much protein can be produced from the land.  That's why the advent of ammonia fertilizer led to such an explosion in land productivity.  But nitrogen fertilizers have environmental costs, and so we want to use them efficiently. 

    —–

    Back when I was trying to live low-carb, Atkins-style, one of the things that troubled me about it was that it seemed so… gratuitously meaty.    The Atkins folks are now recommending "at least 4 to 6 ounces of protein foods per meal," "8 ounces… if you're a tall guy," but five or six years ago I had gotten the distinct impression that you were supposed to eat "as much as you want" of bacon and beef and the like.  

    Basically, the impression was:  Replace your bread, rice, and pasta with meat, eggs, and cheese.  Right?   And of course, even now, six ounces of protein-based foods per meal is more than a pound a day.   You've got to eat something, right?  And you don't want to be hungry?  And carbs are out?  So high-protein must be in.

    But of course this is far more protein than individuals need.  Protein can't be stored,* so eating extra is wasted.   It's greedy, too, on a societal and environmental level; Americans overeat it, and pour nitrogen fertilizers into the soil in order to overproduce it, while in other parts of the world demand outstrips supply.

    So why is the Atkins recommendation so high?  I think it's because the Atkins diet sells itself with that "you can eat as much as you want" theory.  The extra meat will fill your plate and your stomach, be satisfying to chew, and taste good; it is made of "normal" stuff that you're used to eating; and if the research on insulin resistance is to be believed, it won't contribute to your fatness.  You can, indeed, lose weight while eating lots of Atkins hamburger salads.

    But it's still wasteful, if you're eating more protein than your body needs.  And the more people in affluent nations who try to fix their fatness by following Atkins-style high-meat low-carb, the more overall global demand for meat rises — and for already-overnourished nations like us, that's shameful.

    * * *

    This is one reason why, even if we concede that high-refined-carb diets cause obesity and low-carb diets can cure it, we still have a gluttony problem.  A pound and a half of meat every day is a ridiculous amount of meat to eat, even for a "tall guy."  

    Let's concede that a small number of obese, insulin-resistant people will not respond to a diet unless it contains virtually no carbohydrates at all.  These few folks will need a diet that's almost all protein and fat, of necessity based mostly on animal products.  They want to eat reasonably-sized meals with enough calories in them that they don't suffer terribly.  Okay, let those few people subsist on mostly meat, and more meat than their protein requirements call for.   Chalk it up as an expensive medical treatment.  But it's terribly wasteful to start there as a first resort for weight loss, or worse, for a lifelong way of eating.

    * * *

    Here are some things to keep in mind when designing a lower-carb, but more-sustainable way of eating.

    1.  Too much protein and too little fat is an important cause of the famous constellation of side effects that accompany "Atkins-style" low-carb eating.

    From Gary Taubes, Why We Get Fat, pg 214-216:

    This shift [from running on carbohydrates to running on fat] can come with side effects.  These can include weakness, fatigue, nausea, dehydration, diarrhea, constipation, [postural hypotension], and the exacerbation of pre-existing gout.  … This reaction is why some who try carbohydrate restriction give it up quickly. 

    …The reason for the side effects now appears to be clear, and physicians who prescribe carbohydrate restriction say they can be treated and prevented.  These symptoms have nothing to do with the high fat content of the diet.  Rather, they appear to be a consequence of either eating too much protein and too little fat, of attempting strenuous exercise without taking the time to adapt to the diet, or… a web of compensatory responses [from the beneficial drop in insulin levels] that can lead to water retention and what are called electrolyte imbalances.

    So too much protein is one cause of the unpleasant side effects.  Eat more fat and less protein — which means you can eat less animal product and more vegetable oils like coconut, avocado, olive — and the lower-carb adventure might feel a whole lot better.  (Meanwhile, make sure you get enough salt and don't overdo the exercise).

     2.  Don't overestimate your daily protein requirements.  Three grams for every ten pounds of body weight is slightly more than you probably need — a number I get from using the recommendation of (0.6 g protein)/(kg body weight)*.  Another way to think about it is one gram per ten pounds of body weight at each of your three meals.  

    I weigh 113, so it's doubtful I really  need more than 34 grams of protein per day.  Let's be generous and call it 36:  12 grams of protein at each of breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  So at each meal I can get enough protein from:

    • 2 eggs; or
    • 0ne-third of a small (5 oz) can of tuna; or
    • one smallish chicken thigh; or 
    • less than 3 ounces of not-particularly-lean ground beef; or
    • almost two ounces of cheddar cheese; or
    • a cup and a half of whole milk or yogurt.

    Now, if I got most of my protein from plant sources like beans and grains, I might need to eat more, because the body uses the protein in these less efficiently.  And mind you, I don't weigh very much.  If you weigh 250 pounds, you might need twice what I need.  Oh, and growing children and pregnant women will need more than this.  So will someone who does a lot of heavy lifting.  But the point is, if low-carb living means you're going to eat globally-scarce animal protein at most meals, you don't have to consume more than your "fair" share (unless it turns out you have a medical need for it).

    3.  Fill the rest of the plate with nutritious vegetables.  Flavor them with enough butter, sauce, oil, or cream to give you plenty of energy.    If you want a low-carb, moderate-protein diet, logically you must eat a good deal of fat.  There is nothing wrong with this.   And the thing that will give it to you, along with a nice lengthy eating experience and a sensation of fullness, is the dressed vegetable side dish.  Eat your veggies, and eat them with plenty of tasty, tasty fat — not an excess, but enough to give you your daily calories.  This fat need not come from animal products.  The bulk of your calories can thereby come from veggies.

    Atkins-style low-carb set an initial upper limit on even salad vegetables, which naturally means the dieters felt they had to eat more meat just to fill up their plates.  Some people might need such drastic limits, but I'm betting that most people will do fine eating as much broccoli, okra, cabbage, spinach, collards, cucumbers, cauliflower, asparagus, and the like as they want.   Might as well give it a try.  

    4.  Don't waste so damn much food, especially protein.    Here is a sad statistic:  Somewhere between 25 and 55 percent of the food available to people living in North America, Oceania and Europe is simply wasted.*  Thirty-six hundred calories* are available to every American every day; that doesn't count exports.  We eat too much to begin with, and what we don't eat we waste.  

    • A lot of these calories are wasted by retail sellers, who have to throw out expired meat and the like.  
    • A huge amount is wasted by the restaurant industry; I don't know this, but I suspect that the fancier they are (i.e. the more operating expense they can pass on to the clientele), the more wasteful.  
    • But we also waste a lot of food at the household level, by buying too much and cooking too much in the first place, by over-trimming, and generally by being too picky.   

     I've made this point before:  The first place you can reduce your carbon footprint is by wasting less so you can buy less.   What's more, unlike many other ways to go green, you'll actually spend less money (and maybe even time) on the effort.  (A somewhat frightening implication here is that every time we eat in a nice restaurant, we necessarily contribute to the problem.   Don't really want to go there….)

    5.  Choose animal products that make efficient use of protein.  One way to compare protein sources is by feed protein to food protein conversion efficiency.    We could get protein by eating cereals and legumes; or we could feed some of the cereals and legumes to animals, and then eat the animals.  How much of the protein in those cereals and legumes can you get back?  We can accept a less-than-100-percent conversion because animal proteins are more bioavailable to us, and also because they come with valuable fats, nutrients, and iron (not to mention that most of us like to eat animals).  But how good can it get?

    According to Smil, the best you can do is dairy products, which give you back 40 percent of the nitrogen (a proxy for protein) you fed to your cow.  Aquacultured fish are next, tied with eggs at 30 percent efficiency.  Eating chickens gives you back about 25 percent of what you "spent" in feed protein.  Pork:  only 13 percent.  And when you get to beef cattle, it's pretty abysmal:  five percent.

    It does depend quite a bit on how your beef is raised:

    Beef production is inherently the least efficient way of supplying dietary protein through animal feeding. … This inefficiency is irrelevant in broader [nitrogen] terms as long as the animals are totally grass-fed, or raised primarily on crop and food processing residues (ranging from straw to bran, and from oilseed cakes to grapefruit rinds) that are indigestible or unpalatable by nonruminant species. Such cattle feeding calls for no, or minimal—because some pastures are fertilized—additional inputs of fertilizer-[nitrogen]. Any society that would put a premium on reducing [nitrogen] losses in agroecosystems would thus produce only those 2 kinds of beef. In contrast, beef production has the greatest impact on overall [nitrogen] use when the animals are fed only concentrates, now typically mixtures of cereal grains (mostly corn) and soybeans.

    Switching from conventionally raised beef to grass-fed beef is expensive, and not even practically possible depending on the grocery options where you live.    But switching some of your conventional pork and beef consumption even to ordinary eggs and dairy is a cheap change, available to anyone anywhere, that can halve your meal's nitrogen footprint while still providing you high-quality protein, enough to support even a quite low-carb diet.

    ——

    *Asterisked information comes from the Smil paper.