A few weeks back, I posted the first part of a talk I gave about Paleo Fitness for the Eating Paleo in New York Meetup.
As promised, here’s the second chunk, which looks at what we know about how fit our ancestors were, and how they go that way:
Two chemists walk into a bar.
The first says, “I’d like to order some H20.”
The second says, “I’d like to order some H20, too.”
The second man dies.
++
An infinite number of mathematicians walk into a bar.
The first orders a beer.
The second orders half a beer.
The third orders a quarter of a beer.
The fourth begins to order, but, before he does, the bartender cuts him off, puts two beers on the bar and says, “you guys need to know your limits.”
Over the past fifty years, Americans have gotten fatter and fatter. By now, some 63% of American adults are overweight, and 26.5% are obese.
Over the time we’ve fattened up, we’ve also been arguing about the cause. It’s dietary fat. It’s dietary carbohydrates. Etc., etc. By now, the story has changed so many times that most people have entirely given up on trying to follow along, retiring to a sort of nutritional relativism: it doesn’t matter what we do today, as, in ten years, we’ll probably be advised to do the exact opposite.
That’s not an unfair position, given that most of the research on both sides of any nutrition issue has tended to be pretty terrible. Our best young minds, and the lion’s share of our grant dollars, have gone to solving cancer and AIDS, not to resolving whether egg yolks are healthful or not. But, in the past five years or so, things have started to change. For whatever reason, the amount and quality of nutrition science research has gone up exponentially. Now, though public knowledge and opinion hasn’t caught up, we’re coming to a scientific picture of obesity as clear as that of any other well-studied biological process.
The rough shape of that consensus points to three main causes of the American (and global) obesity epidemic:
1. Toxic foods like wheat, fructose, and omega-6 fats. In excess, these make us fat and sick, yet they represent an increasing majority of our diet.
2. Deficiency of important micronutrients like choline and iodine. As more of our calories come from those nutritionally empty toxic foods, we end up micronutient deficient (several of which deficiencies lead to obesity directly), while also instinctively eating more to shore up those micronutrient levels (with such overeating leading to obesity, too).
3. Viruses like Adenovirus 36. While you can get fat pretty effectively with just the two steps above, you can do so even more quickly when infected with an obesity-causing virus; AD-36, for example, is found in obese children at rates four to five times children of healthy weight. Here, too, it’s a vicious cycle: toxic foods lead to gut permeability, and micronutrient deficiencies lead to a compromised immune system, both of which leave your body less able to fight off such an obesity infection.
And that’s it. Certainly, a slew of other factors play in, too (things like non-exercise activity thermogenesis). But those three factors explain the majority of the obesity problem. And, increasingly, it looks like they’re implicated in pretty much every other terrible thing that happens to us, from Alzheimers to acne, from cancer to cellulite.
Of course, agreeing on the problem and implementing a solution are completely different issues. Consider the AIDS epidemic, where, despite our strong understanding that sexually transmitted HIV infection is the primary cause of the spread of the disease, the global number of HIV cases continues to steadily climb. With obesity, too, I fear that even agreement among the science, nutrition, healthcare, and public policy crowds may nonetheless leave us far from effectively addressing the problem in the real world.
Still, it’s worth noting that we’re closing in on such consensus, even if a read through Shape or Men’s Fitness would give you no indication of that. As I said, I think we’re simply five to ten years off from popular opinion catching up to the emerging science.
But catch up it will. You heard it here first.
A shocking 267 individuals took time out of their ‘busy’ lives to weigh in on this ground-breaking survey. I herein present you the results, sorted within each question by descending order of majority-makes-rightness, and with a bit of commentary on each.
1. Age
20-30 63.8%
30-40 18.8%
40-50 10%
10-20 5%
50-60 2.5%
Astute reader Seanna Davidson (booby-prize winner of the recent Oscar pool) pointed out that I am, in fact, a survey retard. Not only does the age question belong at the end of surveys (as apparently, placed early, such questions lead to a higher rejection rate), but I also managed to include decade ages (20, 30) in two categories apiece.
Still, it seems clear most of my readers are about my own age – either because they’re more apt to identify with my angsty bullshit, or because they’re underemployed enough to have hours to waste surfing the internets.
2. Gender
Female 62.7%
Male 37.3%
The ladies love me. But, of course, we already knew that.
3. While showering, I predominantly face
away from the water. 61.4%
towards the water. 30.1%
Other 8.4%
I fall in the majority on this one, mainly because I have high enough water pressure to garner a free back massage while I space out each morning in the shower.
The vast majority of the ‘others’ were what I’d term ‘spinners’, switching regularly between the two. I secretly suspect such people of mild Multiple Personality Disorder.
One person explained “I always shower with my husband, so I’m usually sideways,” while one wise-ass, apparently unclear on the shower / bath distinction, claimed to “lay down and imagine I’m under a waterfall, face up.”
4. I floss
after brushing. 42.2%
before brushing. 39.8%
Other 18.1%
A bit of Googling yields that dentists themselves are split on this question, though I’m a before flosser, as I always feel like I should brush away any bits and pieces flossing dislodges.
All but one answerer in the 18.1% of ‘other’ were admissions of not flossing at all; or, as one respondent put it, ” I’m English…” Regardless of nationality, these people would be well advised to buy Fixodent preemptively.
5. Before applying toothpaste, I
rinse my toothbrush head in cold water. 62.5%
don’t rinse my toothbrush head. 17.5%
rinse my toothbrush head in hot water. 10%
Other 10%
Most of the ‘other’ responses were ‘rinse after applying toothpaste. But, blinded by my own bathroom habits, I had assumed that everyone would add water after; thus, it seems this area of investigation remains woefully incomplete; I’ll need to expand the line of questioning in future research.
As an aside: one respondent provided the brushing routine of “toothpaste on, smash in toothbrush with tongue, place under cold water, brush”. To whom I say: Smash in toothbrush with tongue? What the fuck is wrong with you?
6. When showering I
wash my hair then my body. 70.9%
wash my body then my hair. 21.5%
Other 7.6%
While this one also showed a strong majority, I’m unsure of why – does shampooing seem more important, thus deserving pole position, or is that, like in washing windows, dirty runoff from above mandates a top-down approach?
Most disturbing, however, was the respondent who supplied the write-in “just hair.” Here’s hoping I never end up having to sit next to this person.
7. A roll of toilet paper should hang with the loose end
coming forward over the top. 83.1%
hanging down off the back. 8.4%
Other 8.2%
This question brought out not only the most lopsided response, but also the most passionate write-ins. While a handful of ‘other’ respondents called the issue ‘not worth the fight this brings on,’ at least three admitted to taking covert action on the issue – as one explained, “I feel so strongly about the ‘rightness’ of TP coming forward over the top that I change it when I visit homes where it is ‘wrong.’ Does anyone else do this?”
Embarrassed as I am to admit it, I do. Or, at least, I have on a few occasions past. I’m somewhat relieved to know that at least I’m part of a toilet paper Jihad, spreading the truth to backwards hangers the world over.
8. Before wiping, I take a length of toilet paper and
crumple it. 43.4%
fold it. 54.2%
Other 2.4%
While this one split nearly down the middle, I remember a discussion of the issue with friends a few years back, where the claim was made that more men are folders, and more women crumplers.
So, in short, lest you think this experiment is winding to an end, the next stop here is for me to figure out SurveyMonkey well enough to break down the results by gender. I’m exceedingly curious to see whether any of these habits are gender-mediated, and will be reporting on the issue in the next couple of days.
9. Comments / topics for further exploration.
It seems this survey touched quite a nerve, considering the quick response roll-in, and the number of people who left additional ideas. Some questions suggested for future exploration:
* Hand-washing – how frequently?
* Hand-washing – rinse before applying soap?
* Wiping – while standing or sitting?
* Wiping – front-to-back or back-to-front?
* Post-shower toweling – in the tub or out of it?
* Toothpaste cap – on or off?
* Soap – bar or liquid (both in shower and at sink)?
And, to close, a last comment, the likes of which makes this all worthwhile:
“I’m glad someone else recognizes the truly important things in life.”
Truly important indeed.
Though I’m, apparently, already one of the world’s leading experts on urinal etiquette (with Self-Aggrandizement even showing up in the relevant Wikipedia entry), over the past few months, I’ve increasingly become fascinated by a more private set of bathroom norms.
Urinal etiquette, you see, is passed on via socialization – boys using public bathrooms observe men doing so, over time picking up the tacit codes of behavior which pass from generation to generation.
But there are other things people do – the way they shower or floss or use toilet paper – that they often do alone well into adulthood. And, it turns out, they don’t all do them in the same way – some people face predominantly towards the showerhead and others face away, some brush before flossing and others after. Yet, because we tend to do these things again and again in the same ways, we start to believe our ways make more sense, are somehow more ‘right’.
So, to extend our common understanding and advance the progress of scientific endeavor, I’ve decided to begin studying these pressing questions in earnest. And I need your help.
Take two minutes, and fill out this anonymous questionnaire. The pursuit of truth hinges on you.
Continuing today’s trend of academic research with broad implications for real life, I share this helpful tip for female readers:
A study released this month by researchers at the Netherlands’ University of Groningen indicates that women are 30% more likely to achieve orgasm when they wear socks during sex.
A recent study at the University of Chicago determined that higher levels of procrastination predicts higher levels of consumption of alcohol among those people who drink.
There are some questions that, by long enough vexing thinkers, become known as impossible paradoxes. Yet, as science rolls ahead, answers to these questions often become clear. In the popular imagination, however, the questions remain, philosophical koans defining the limits of our knowledge.
Take, for example, the proverbial chicken and egg.
Sure, it sounds impossible. But, given Darwin’s century-old insights, we can easily come up with a definitive answer.
First, what is an egg? According to most scientific texts, and echoed by Webster’s, it’s “the hard-shelled reproductive body produced by a bird.” That’s a key insight, as it defines an egg as something that comes out of a bird, rather than vice versa.
So imagine, if you will, a long line of bird-like organisms slowly evolving over time. One day, a new baby bird is born, a bird that combines its parent birds’ genes with new random mutations. This new bird is, in short, a chicken. It’s parents, however, weren’t chickens yet; they were close, but not quite. (And it doesn’t matter where, exactly, we draw that biological chicken/pre-chicken cutoff, so long as we know that it, definitionally, must exist.)
The mother, not being a chicken, didn’t produce a chicken egg – remember a chicken egg is an egg produced by a chicken. But her non-chicken egg held the first chicken nonetheless. A chicken who, in fact, might even ostensibly go on to lay her own first eggs – her own chicken eggs.
Which is to say, the chicken came first. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
After redesigning s-a and Cyan Pictures‘ website, I set out on the next logical step: revamping the Paradigm Blue site as well. The problem, however, is that, while Cyan Arts is remarkably well defined and moving steadily towards its eventual full incarnation, Sapphire Holdings and the Indigo Foundation have perpetually been much less sharply conceptualized, being mainly ever-evolving catch-alls for the miscellany of other work in which I’m involved: the entrepreneurship book, sitting on the boards of various start-ups, real estate ventures with my younger brother, consulting with nonprofits, a few science- and technology-related books I’ve been outlining, etc., etc.
Though I feel like I’m finally coming to a strong understanding of how Sapphire and Indigo will operate (as should be reflected in the coming-soon new version of the PB site), the thinking I’ve been doing has also inadvertently stirred up any number of related issues that normally lie dormant at the back of my brain. This weekend’s politics post, for example, was one result. Here’s another:
Sometimes, when back in Palo Alto, I’ll run into one of Stanford’s Deans of Admissions, who I’ve known for some time.
“So,” he’ll ask, “when are you coming to Stanford B-school?”
My unvarying reply: “As soon as you have my students ready.”
Which is to say, while I’d conceivably be happy to teach at a business school at some point in the future (having, already, been a guest speaker at nearly a dozen), I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to strap on a backpack and head to such a school as a student myself.
At the same time, one part of my mind, a little tiny voice way at the back, thinks it would be great fun to go back and get a PhD – not in business or film or computer science or any other area closely related to what I do know, but in complexity theory. Because, for all of my life, I’ve been excited by top-down problem solving – seeing new connections between divergent fields – and by questions of emergence and chaos – how very complicated, unpredictable behaviors can stem from players following remarkably simple rules – the two ideas that complexity most deeply delves.
In part, I love thinking about complexity theory because it pushes me to the edge of my cognitive abilities. We’re tremendously poor at seeing big pictures, at mentally working through the large-scale, compound interactions of very small parts. It’s the sort of thinking that makes my brain hurt, and it’s thinking I always have to push myself to do more often.
In college, I did a lot of that thinking, as most of my studies revolved around cognition, around trying to understand how the mind works. My senior thesis, for example, explored the question of what makes music sound good, of why air vibrations and synaptic impulses can make our subjective selves experience such profound emotional shifts. The project was a wild goose chase, tracing through themes in mathematics, physiology, neuroscience, acoustics, linguistics, philosophy, and a slew of other fields, and I enjoyed the process immensely. Still, I was never truly pleased with the result – the sixty or so pages I put together raised for me more questions than they answered, and I’ve always considered one day revisiting the topic for a more thorough analysis.
But as much as I love theory, I’m even more smitten with action. Which is why I doubt I’ll ever go head-first into the world of academia – too many great ideas are born and die in a vacuum, without ever making their way out to impact the real world. Still, I actively try and keep mind-stretching ideas in front of me – at the moment, I’m both re-reading Hofstadter’s excellent Gˆdel, Escher, Bach and working my way through an excellent online collection of neuroscience lectures.
Certainly, I do so because I like those subjects, because I like having to think hard. But also, I do it because I’m sure there’s some way to help such hard thinking osmote across to my daily, more action-based pursuits.
Recent research on an effect initially demonstrated in crickets shows that the so-called “Duke of Marlborough” effect extends to primates. The effect essentially demonstrates that males having recently won a fight against other males are both more likely to and more successful in courting females. The good part: the effect gained its name from an entry in the diary of the first Duchess of Marlborough, which reads: “His Grace returned from the wars today and pleasured me twice in his topboots.”