Jenny McCartney presents a rather mixed bag in her Opinion piece at the Sunday Telegraph yesterday.
There is some sensible commentary:
There appears to be a crucial piece of thinking missing from Dr Wadge’s logic. For if, as he suggests, the behaviour of a hyperactive child can be improved by cutting out such additives, it surely follows that the additives were partly responsible for the hyperactivity in the first place.
Quite. In fact, her opening paragraph on children’s parties notes that most parents entirely understand this.
Unfortunately, the piece starts to slip a little thereafter:
And if an unnecessary ingredient is known to cause serious problems in a significant number of children, what reason can there be for not simply banning it? The only one that I can think of is a craven reluctance to upset the food industry.
That might speak more of her thought processes than the cravenness or otherwise of our lords and masters. Without wishing to let the food manufacturers off the hook, here – off the top of my head – are some reasons Ms McCartney has missed.
Firstly, the case for an outright ban might not be strong enough. There are plenty of activities, objects and foodstuffs that are either inherently dangerous or could be dangerous in the wrong hands but which are not banned. Kitchen knives are not banned, but are very obviously very considerably more dangerous than food additives. A splash of vodka in one’s evening tonic water is nice; a whole bottle might kill you, two certainly will. Vodka is not banned. Its sale is hardly even restricted: it is quite possible to wander into a shop and buy a case – many multiples of the lethal dose – without any let or hindrance.
In order for the force of law to be invoked, you have to set the bar quite high:
- Does the additive cause the reaction in any but a small proportion of children?
- Is the hyperactivity reaction a problem on its own or does it only become an issue when in conjunction with all sorts of other environmental factors – insufficient space to allow the children to let off steam harmlessly, too much TV and too little real stimulation from parents, repeated high dosages at the wrong times of day and/or when the child does not have a decent balanced diet?
In short, is the additive really the problem, or does it simply unmask a plethora of rather more difficult underlying issues, mostly revolving around the parent’s ability to control the child?
Secondly, the assumption here is that these additives serve no real useful purpose other than to impart a lurid colour. I’m not sure it holds. Indeed, as benzoate preservatives are specifically mentioned in the article, I can be quite certain that in some cases it doesn’t.
Thirdly, it is not the “Food Manufacturing lobby” that is the obstacle to a ban.
Fourthly – and I would argue most importantly – a ban won’t solve the problem. The problem here is not food additives: it is that parents are suckers to pester power. Jenny McCartney hints at this:
Parents should no doubt be firmer in opposing a multi-billion pound food and drink industry that knowingly exploits “pester power” in children; but why should they be forced into constant, dreary battle with it in the first place?
Well because the one thing that parents have to do is learn to manage their children’s demands. It is precisely the same process governing the requests for fizzy drinks that governs requests for more time watching TV, another go on the swings and equally the refusal to eat your greens, do your homework or any of the other myriad of life’s challenges where parental and children’s desires appear to be somewhat orthogonal.
In an ideal world, no doubt, the vast majority of British mothers would spend their time sourcing the healthiest organic ingredients before slow-cooking three nourishing meals a day for their children. While one can only applaud those who do, the fact is that many mothers have neither the time nor the budget to shop organically …
This sets up a ludicrous dichotomy.
… or always to cook from scratch.
Whilst I’ll give her points for avoiding the split infinitive, that’s about as far as it goes. This line perpetuates the myth that cooking from scratch is necessarily hugely time-consuming and/or more expensive. It might require a little more forethought and planning, but that is not the same thing at all.
Worse, a weak-willed and growing minority will feed their children on whatever fizzy, salty or sugar-laden processed concoction is most vigorously demanded.
Ah. Quite. Whether or not – especially if not – the parent learns to manage the child, the child will learn to manage the parent. A ban on certain food additives isn’t really going to address that problem.
Besides, if Ms McCartney were to apply her methods to the favourite drink of my native Scotland, she might find that it wasn’t a minority that she was dealing with and their opposition would be distinctly unlikely to be “weak-willed” at that…
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Food Additives and Hyperactivity
There is some sensible commentary:
Quite. In fact, her opening paragraph on children’s parties notes that most parents entirely understand this.
Unfortunately, the piece starts to slip a little thereafter:
That might speak more of her thought processes than the cravenness or otherwise of our lords and masters. Without wishing to let the food manufacturers off the hook, here – off the top of my head – are some reasons Ms McCartney has missed.
Firstly, the case for an outright ban might not be strong enough. There are plenty of activities, objects and foodstuffs that are either inherently dangerous or could be dangerous in the wrong hands but which are not banned. Kitchen knives are not banned, but are very obviously very considerably more dangerous than food additives. A splash of vodka in one’s evening tonic water is nice; a whole bottle might kill you, two certainly will. Vodka is not banned. Its sale is hardly even restricted: it is quite possible to wander into a shop and buy a case – many multiples of the lethal dose – without any let or hindrance.
In order for the force of law to be invoked, you have to set the bar quite high:
In short, is the additive really the problem, or does it simply unmask a plethora of rather more difficult underlying issues, mostly revolving around the parent’s ability to control the child?
Secondly, the assumption here is that these additives serve no real useful purpose other than to impart a lurid colour. I’m not sure it holds. Indeed, as benzoate preservatives are specifically mentioned in the article, I can be quite certain that in some cases it doesn’t.
Thirdly, it is not the “Food Manufacturing lobby” that is the obstacle to a ban.
Fourthly – and I would argue most importantly – a ban won’t solve the problem. The problem here is not food additives: it is that parents are suckers to pester power. Jenny McCartney hints at this:
Well because the one thing that parents have to do is learn to manage their children’s demands. It is precisely the same process governing the requests for fizzy drinks that governs requests for more time watching TV, another go on the swings and equally the refusal to eat your greens, do your homework or any of the other myriad of life’s challenges where parental and children’s desires appear to be somewhat orthogonal.
This sets up a ludicrous dichotomy.
Whilst I’ll give her points for avoiding the split infinitive, that’s about as far as it goes. This line perpetuates the myth that cooking from scratch is necessarily hugely time-consuming and/or more expensive. It might require a little more forethought and planning, but that is not the same thing at all.
Ah. Quite. Whether or not – especially if not – the parent learns to manage the child, the child will learn to manage the parent. A ban on certain food additives isn’t really going to address that problem.
Besides, if Ms McCartney were to apply her methods to the favourite drink of my native Scotland, she might find that it wasn’t a minority that she was dealing with and their opposition would be distinctly unlikely to be “weak-willed” at that…
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