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On a cold winter night, two women friends and I sat by my woodstove and talked about our diets, past and present. The conversation began with reminiscing about what we ate as kids. “I loved candy corns on Halloween,” one of them said, describing with childish glee how she had bitten off one color at a time, reducing the sugary cone to an orange stump. We nodded in agreement, fondly remembering these popular candies.
“What about those colored candy buttons that came on a long strip of paper?” said the other. We laughed in unison at the thought of those pretty pastel dots that we picked off with our teeth.
“I would take a Twizzler, break off the ends, and use it as a straw to drink Sprite.” That was a new one to me, and nearly topped my own trick of filling a glass with Chips Ahoy cookies, pouring milk on top, and fishing out the sugary sludge with a spoon.
“I must have eaten a million Raisinettes,” recalled my first friend with a twinkle in her eye, “especially at the movies.” This woman became a passionate film buff. Clearly, her chocolate-covered memories were embedded in some of her most formative childhood experiences.
“Well, my favorite candy at the movies was Snickers,” said the second, “ . . . no, Almond Joy!” We slapped our thighs in recognition, relating to how hard it was to choose.
These shared memories are like a cultural glue that binds us together, emblematic of the era in which we grew up. Food is an integral part of life, and forms some of our deepest associations. And it is by association that we anchor experience and form conclusions about ourselves and the world we we live in. Food is information not only for our bodies, but our souls. As such, it helps form the foundation of our identity.
After a silence and a few deep sighs, the conversation with my two women friends went on to our current dietary choices of sweets and desserts. Gone are the treats of our childhoods, for though we all have different diets, we know better than to abuse our bodies with junk food. One friend shared her recipe of whipped dates and nut butter with cocoa powder, pressed into a mold to make homemade candies. The other likes a baked tart made with sweet potatoes, sweetened with bananas. These yummies are a far cry from the chemical-laced confections we grew up with. Mass-produced candy, cookies, and cakes are no longer part of our diets.
And for good reason. The ingredients in these packaged foods that we once held so dear wreaked havoc on our long-term health. One of us showed signs of incipient diabetes by the time we joined the Girl Scouts. Another saw her mother lose all her teeth, and was well into rheumatoid arthritis before she finally left refined carbohydrates behind, thereby reversing it. The third went on to develop a brain tumor, which though benign, left her hearing and balance permanently impaired. These conditions are typical of the epidemic of chronic disease that has swept this country, with its origins deeply rooted in our dietary identities.
Yet for millions of people, this identity forms us rather than the other way around. “My 38-year-old son was diagnosed with anemia,” a neighbor recently shared, seeking my suggestions as a health coach. “He’s constantly exhausted and struggling to function, but he’s been a vegetarian for years and he’s not willing to give that up. What can he do?”
Not willing? I marveled at the strength of these adopted personas. Clearly this man’s body was giving him a strong message, letting him know he needs to make a change. In order to make basic cellular energy, our mitochondria require heme iron, which can only be derived from meat. Non-heme iron, from vegetarian foods such as dark leafy greens, clearly wasn’t sufficient. Nor were the few eggs this man ate. Why would someone compromise their health to the point of dysfunction, in order to uphold a mental construct? What harm would it do to change the menu – would his vegetarian comrades cancel him? Would the food police come and arrest him?
I replied to my friend by stating the obvious: “He can start eating grass-fed red meat.” I knew my suggestion probably wouldn’t be helpful. Without understanding the many threads that weave together to form this man’s lifestyle choices, I couldn’t possibly unravel the knot he was in. And pulling directly on a knot only makes it tighter. What does it take to loosen up our thinking?
Objective awareness is a good start. It’s easy to see someone else’s blind spot, but what about our own? To what degree are we even conscious of our nutritional choices? Let’s unpack the intentions that drive our dietary decisions – and what makes them harden into a dogma that dictates our life, even to our own detriment. When no exceptions are allowed without violating our fundamental self-perception and self-worth, that’s no longer a dietary choice – it’s a religious vow.
In claiming a diet, we choose our place in the web of life – or so we believe. By declining to consume animal-based foods, for example, we may be virtue-signaling to the world that we’re selfless and compassionate toward living creatures, or willing to make sacrifices for the environment. We want to make a positive contribution to the world, or at least refrain from making a negative one. But these noble intentions may fail to take into account that emissions from factories, cars, trucks, and airplanes contribute far more to greenhouse gases than the natural methane produced by livestock1– which in the case of regenerative farming actually acts as a carbon sink; or that owning a second home and driving to and from it is a significant cause of habitat destruction and air pollution. When it comes to food, facts are too often based on feelings rather than the other way around. This is especially true of vegan and vegetarian diets – two of the most common dietary choices.
By shining the light of awareness on our motives, we can make conscious choices that truly serve our goals. What is your primary goal in choosing a diet? Your answer may be one or more of the following:
• To simply enjoy eating delicious food, without thinking about its nutritional content or implications.
• To restrict animal fat and protein in order to reduce the demand for animal-based foods.
• To stop consuming anything that is sentient and has the capacity to suffer.
• To improve one’s quality of life and extend longevity.
• To facilitate ease of movement and preserve autonomy into old age.
• To minimize the threat of a genetic disease.
• To become more self-reliant and less dependent on industrial and processed foods.
• To support local farms rather than large corporations and mass distribution.
• To align with nature’s design and our ancestral origins.
• To maximize energy and endurance to serve athletic, creative, or career goals.
• To learn culinary or medicinal skills.
• To connect with family, feed friends, host gatherings, or serve social functions.
• To optimize fertility and create healthy pregnancies, easier births, and thriving, happy children.
• To help save the planet from environmental destruction.
• To make oneself physically fit and attractive.
• To mitigate or reverse an allergic sensitivity or autoimmune condition.
• To feel a sense of belonging in a religious community, cultural group, or political movement.
That’s a lot of reasons! I embrace many of them myself. And I could argue for the virtue and veracity of each one. But that’s not my motive for writing this article. As a health coach, I want you to choose the diet that best serves your health goals. Why is this the most important guiding principle? Because without that, you cannot attain the others.
Consider the following examples:
1) Factory-farmed meat from grain-fed animals is more inflammatory and far less nutritious than grass-fed or pasture-raised meat. They might look the same on your plate, but their nutritional profiles are completely different. Ruminants need to graze on a variety of plants and insects in order to produce healthy meat and milk – and the earth itself needs grazing ruminants in order to produce fertile soil that supports those insects and plants. Factory farms both fail to produce healthy food and contribute to ground water pollution and soil degradation with their concentrated toxic effluence. Holding this awareness makes it clear that the suffering of factory-farmed animals is inextricably intertwined with the health of those who consume them and the environment. Eliminate unhealthy meat and dairy, and both you and the animals will benefit. Eat these foods in moderation from healthy sources only, and you will make it that much more possible to provide our entire population with regeneratively-raised, sustainable meat and dairy.2
2) Industrial oils (sunflower, safflower, soybean, corn, and canola oil) are extracted with harmful chemicals, loaded with inflammatory omega-6 essential fatty acids, and easily turn rancid at high heat and in storage. (See my article “Know Your Oils” for more on this subject.) Eliminate these unhealthy oils from your diet for your own good, and you will inadvertently help save wildlife habitat. Millions of animals are killed each year because of oilseed agriculture (mostly soybeans and corn), which takes up approximately 11% of global arable landmass, and here in the U.S. occupies almost half a million farms.3 The production of palm oil, which is used in almost all manufactured vegan food as a replacement for saturated fat, also takes a severe toll on the environment, contributing to deforestation, soil and water pollution, greenhouse gas emissions, loss of habitat for endangered species, and more.4 Grains are no better – the cultivation of wheat takes up over 46 million acres, or roughly 5% of the continental United States land mass.5 What are you really supporting by choosing a diet of frozen dinners or mass-produced snacks?
3) Drinking and eating from plastic containers introduces dangerous microplastics into the environment – both in our rivers and oceans, and in your own bloodstream. These endocrine disruptors block hormone receptors, damage fertility, and impair numerous bodily functions over time. They may also accrue in the cardiovascular system, posing the threat of dangerous plaque. Stop eating and cooking from plastic containers, and you’ll help save both yourself and the environment.
4) Packaged and processed foods are generally less healthy, and packaging of all kinds is bad for the environment. Most manufactured foods are transported long distances, using packing material and contributing to air pollution and greenhouse gases. You can do both yourself and the earth a favor by shopping locally, and eating foods that do not have a barcode or a list of ingredients.
5) Processed vegan foods abound, including fake meat and cheese, which are loaded with refined carbohydrates, industrial oils, and harmful additives. Vegan diets are deficient in a number of nutrients, including complete protein, which compels many people to rely on processed protein powders, packed in plastic and shipped long distances – a far cry from authentic, wholesome food. Over time, insufficient nutrients and incomplete protein pave the way for poor health, especially as we age – what good does such a diet do the earth or its inhabitants, including us?
A truly healthy diet improves individual, societal, and environmental health, and may also reduce the burden on our medical system, which is drained of resources by preventable diseases and chronic conditions. This also lightens the load on taxpayers and the economy as a whole. Freeing up both personal and collective resources for better use is an indirect benefit of healthy lifestyle choices.
What do you want your health for? To climb the ladder of success in your chosen career? Finish a PhD? Reach an athletic goal? Fulfill your potential as an artist? Be the best parent possible? Play baseball with your grandkids? Travel the world? Backpack in the wilderness? Raise animals, start a charity, write a book, build a house? These are all laudable goals, and they’re an expression of our underlying values. Living in accord with our values is what makes a fulfilling life. Thus, the foundation of your dietary identity should be to serve your values. What is meaningful to us in life is also what drives our desire for good health.
Sticking to a diet because we want to be seen as virtuous, committed, or pure generally does not serve our health goals. Purity is the opposite of diversity, and diversity is the hallmark of both a healthy microbiome and a healthy ecosystem. It’s really okay to be mostly vegetarian, or part-time vegan. When it comes to pleasure foods, we don’t think twice about making exceptions. Few people are strict about staying off sweets or fried foods, or worry about the ingredients in restaurant food, or label themselves as alcoholics if they have a drink now and again. Yet sugar, fried food, alcohol, and many restaurant foods are all unhealthy. Why are we so willing to make exceptions when it comes to our health, yet not when it comes to our dietary identities?
One of my friends who sat by my fire that night is a dedicated vegan – yet as if admitting a sin, she furtively told me she eats eggs from time to time. It’s a good thing, because she needs the complete protein that only animal-based amino acids can provide (see my article “The Plant-Based Puzzle” for more on this subject). My other friend is a flexitarian, married to a strict vegan but willing to eat meat with coworkers or when it’s offered to her at other people’s homes. Bravo for her resilience! When it comes to healthy eating, flexibility and diversity go hand in hand.
As for me, I’m an omnivore, dedicated to diversity in my diet. I eat a wide variety of vegetables, mushrooms, herbs, and spices, including herb teas and nourishing herbal infusions. I avoid refined carbohydrates, packaged food and eschew farm-raised fish and factory-farmed meat and dairy. I’m willing to drive out of my way and spend extra money to get pasture-raised meat or dairy directly from local farms. In terms of human and environmental health, I feel this is the closest I can get to my values and nature’s intentions. Yet a few times each year, I’ll make an exception and eat farm-raised fish or free range eggs (which come from chickens that are not free to range). It doesn’t make me feel like I’ve fallen off a wagon, broken a law, or betrayed my like-minded foodie friends.
As the new year begins, it’s a good time to think about health goals and dietary choices. It’s okay to express your views through the food you eat, but in the end, it’s best to choose a diet that serves your health goals. Beyond that, what begins as a personal preference can too easily become a political statement or even a moral prison. That won’t serve your health or longevity, and it probably won’t save domestic animals, wildlife, or the planet, either. Healthy food naturally goes hand in hand with healthy ecosystems. Take good care of your own health, and the earth will take care of itself.
To your good health –
Yael Bernhard
Certified Integrative Health & Nutrition Coach
Yael Bernhard is a writer, illustrator, book designer and fine art painter with a lifelong passion for nutrition and herbal medicine. She was certified by Duke University as an Integrative Health Coach in 2021 and by Cornell University in Nutrition & Healthy Living in 2022. For information about private health coaching or nutrition programs for schools, please respond directly to this newsletter, or email dyaelbernhard@protonmail.com. Visit her online gallery of illustration, fine art, and children’s books here.
Information in this newsletter is provided for educational – and inspirational – purposes only.
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Have you seen my other Substack, Image of the Week? Check it out here, and learn about my illustrations and fine art paintings, and the stories and creative process behind them.
Buxton, Jane, The Great Plant-Based Con, Chapter 1. Transportation constitutes approximately 25% of greenhouse gases, while livestock contribute less than 5%.
Contrary to common belief, there is evidence that there is sufficient land to produce enough regeneratively-raised meat to feed the world, providing consumption were more moderate and farming practices judiciously managed. This complex and controversial issue is beyond the scope of this article. For more on this subject, see: https://understandingag.com/the-future-of-food/
https://www.nass.usda.gov/Publications/Highlights/2024/census22-grain-oilseed.pdf
https://www.worldwildlife.org/industries/palm-oil
https://www.nass.usda.gov/Publications/Todays_Reports/reports/acrg0621.pdf