A warning….this post is not about swimming (although, as
with most things, I came to it via swimming, where discussions about diet and
nutrition are rife). As I explained when I re-launched the blog in February, as
my research moves away from swimming, I want to start using this as a site for
testing out new thoughts and ideas about a range of projects and issues, some
of which are more obviously swimming-related than others. So if you’ve come to
the blog looking for swimming posts, please browse away through past posts….or come
back in a couple of weeks, by which time I’m sure more swimming will have
appeared.
***
With my swimming book now at the printers (and out in
August), I’ve been working on getting some new writing and research projects
going. My primary goal is a long-abandoned but recently resurrected book about
obesity surgery, but as a side project, I’ve been getting very interested in
radical weight loss diets – those diets which conform to contemporary
anti-obesity sentiment, but which stand in direct opposition to mainstream
dietary advice. I started off by focusing on low carb – high fat diets (LCHF) (e.g. the Real Meal Revolution) which have become very popular in the swimming community recently, and then
extended this to plant-based weight loss plans (e.g. Forks Over Knives). The
former rely heavily on animal products as a means of limiting carbs and increasing the consumption of fat, while the latter completely reject all animal products (including
dairy). In spite of this very fundamental difference, I’ve been intrigued by
how much they have in common, leading me to ask how the cases for each are
made, what values they appeal to, and where their similarities and differences
lie.
I need a couple of quick caveats here: as a recently
converted vegan, and a vegetarian for 30 years before that, I have an obvious
loyalty to plant-based eating and think that it is environmentally and
ethically irresponsible to promote the greater consumption of animal
products. But this is not what this
project is about, and I think that while the vegan critique of LCHF is personally
important to me it is not particularly interesting sociologically. For this reason, I have excluded books guided by ethical veganism and am focusing specifically on plant-based weight loss plans. Nor is the project about adjudicating the
health effects of one or other regimen, but rather, to think about how those claims to weight and health
outcomes are made and to what social effects. There is one final caveat – and
one which anyone familiar with my writing on marathon swimming and fat will
recognise. I come from an academic tradition of feminist Fat Studies and as
such, approach this topic with a well-worn suspicion of the easy equation of
fatness and ill-health, and a resistance to the habitual and moralising
assumptions about fatness that run through the contemporary attack on obesity - a starting point that not everyone will agree with.
In dietary terms there is more common ground between the two dietary styles than you might expect, particularly in relation to the rejection of processed and refined foods, and both regimens have armies of acolytes for whom the prescribed dietary transformation has produced effects on the body that are experienced as both positive and meaningful (and I think it's important to take those experiences seriously). But the most interesting common ground for me lies in the programmes' self-presentations and
justifications, many of which overlap strongly with mainstream anti-obesity interventions. Both share the caricatured and hysterical fear-mongering that
is the hallmark of the ‘war on obesity', and both are sites of weight loss entrepreneurship, selling books and other products and plans, as well as engaging in research. Both marshall ‘science’ to shore up
their arguments, as embodied in books and websites primarily through the figures of white, male
doctors and scientists. Both exercise a rigorous critique of opposing
scientific views but rarely extend that level of scrutiny to supporting studies
or to the obesity science literature which feeds the ‘war on obesity’ more
generally. ‘Science’, then, for both is usually good or bad, but rarely treated
as inherently uncertain. Both rely on highly strategic and partial evolutionary
accounts of what we are 'meant' to eat. Both caricature and generalise the diet
of the ‘irresponsible poor’ whilst offering solutions which demand the social,
cultural and economic capital of the (westernised) middle classes. Both treat weight loss as
synonymous with, and a proxy for, health in ways that are fundamentally
unreliable. And both rely on profoundly masculinised narratives of bodily
mastery and athleticism as proof of positive health outcomes.
My preliminary argument, then, is that while both LCHF and
plant-based programmes identify strongly with their dissenting roles in relation
to conventional dietary advice, they simultaneously reproduce many of
the normative assumptions that underpin mainstream anti-obesity campaigns and
which Fat Studies scholars have been critiquing for years.
In short, I don’t think that they’re as radical as they
appear to be at first glance, and can alternatively be seen as intensifications of existing ideologies rather than divergences from them.
And this leads me to a further question (and one which is
central to my obesity surgery book), which applies to both the general audience and to the feminist and Fat Studies communities for whom the failure of diets is a core element of their opposition: What if it works? If one or other (or both) of these
regimens were to be successful in safely producing sustained weight loss and
improved ‘health’ (however that’s measured), what does that mean for the fat
body? What new or intensified coercions might result? What gets overlooked in
the relentless focus on obesity as the motivating problem to be solved?
These are only my preliminary thoughts, and I’ve got heaps more
work to do. But even if it doesn’t come to anything, at least it’s the kind of research
where you pick up some great recipes and food ideas along the way (chocolate-banana ice-cream,
anyone?).
Karen,
ReplyDeleteLove this line of research. (You mention HCLF a couple times, I assume that is the "traditional" high-carb, low-fat that's been stuffed down our throats for years?)
You probably remember this from the MSF, but if not, here's my history with LCHF diet:
Background: Pescovegetarian from 1991-2003-ish. Heard about LCHF in 2013 when wife began this way of eating. I started a lighter version of it (aiming for fewer than 100g of carbs per day) in mid-2013.
(TC: total cholesterol; TG: triglycerides; HDL: good cholesterol; LDL: bad)
2010: TC: 227 TG: 125 HDL: 54 LDL: 152
2012: TC: 230 TG: 101 HDL: 55 LDL: 154
2014 (after about a year of LCHF): TC: 198 TG: 53 HDL: 62 LDL: 123
Aug 2014 moved to Kyrgyzstan, dumped the LCHF diet, but ate wife's dinners which were generally LCHF.
2015 (Oct): TC: 212 TG: 91 HDL: 59 LDL: 135
After above test results went back to LCHF. Plan to get a blood panel again in August.
Very interested in your research. I must tell you that I also fully support your reason for being a vegetarian. Stopping our vegetarian diet was difficult, but needed (at the time) medically. We made the decision at that point (early 2003) that we would not buy factory-farmed meat. We would only buy from farmers who let their animals have a life, only buy animals that were grass-fed. It cost a lot, but we love animals and the way factory farms torture their animals to give us cheap meat is disgusting and immoral.
Hi MIke
ReplyDeletethanks for this - the HCLF is actually a typo (x2) and should have read LCHF. Apologies, but thanks for spotting that. I don't doubt that for some people LCHF has had positive health outcomes; I think that's what makes it so interesting from my point of view. I think that my point of departure from a lot of the LCHF books / programmes (aside from the ethical and environmental arguments which personally are an absolute deal-breaker for me, irrespective of the health question) comes from the certainty with which it is articulated and its self-positioning as THE answer. And I agree that 'happy meat' is better than the factory-farmed meat, but for me, there is still an enormous amount of unnecessary cruelty and slaughter involved in even the most carefully kept animals. From the perspective of the LCHF diet industry as well, which is very focused on the dietary practices and health problems of disadvantaged social groups as part of its critique of the 'modern' diet, this is an untenable solution because of issues of access and affordability. But from a research perspective, I think it's really important to keep in mind the many positive experiences of LCHF as a way of eating - so much work to do!