We’ve all done it, us serial dieters. Browsing the aisles, bored of our regimens of deprivation, we crave something sweet. And so we grab the low-fat yoghurt, or the 80-calorie chocolate mousse, or the can of diet cola, convincing ourselves that we can have a little bit of what we fancy and that it doesn’t matter, because sugar and fat, not artificial sweeteners, are the real enemies in our constant war against obesity.
But now, scientists think that artificial sweeteners might be fattening us up. Dr Chee Chia, a clinician scientist at the National Institute on Aging at the US Department of Health and Human Services, has conducted research that found that people who broadly ate the same diet – and the same number of calories – became fatter if they consumed low-calorie sweeteners. One possible explanation is that these sweeteners affect our metabolism, triggering it to lay down more abdominal fat. Research from the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel suggests that sweeteners disrupt the body’s ability to regulate sugar. And a recent report by researchers at Imperial College London and two Brazilian universities argued that diet drinks might be no better for weight loss than their full-sugar counterparts.
If true, it doesn’t surprise me. Anecdotally, I have friends who have cut out their daily diet drink and have lost half a stone seemingly overnight. The science of nutrition is complex and conflicting – we are constantly being told to cut out whatever dietary scapegoat is currently held responsible for our thickening waistlines – fat, sugar, carbs, gluten, meat. But most of us know in our disobedient guts that eating as naturally as possible in combination with exercise is the healthiest way to stay slim. It’s just that we can’t resist sweetening the bitter pill with a quick artificial fix.
We have a terrible food culture in Britain, an addiction to sweet things and processed foodstuffs; harassed workers lunch “al desko”, slaves to office cake culture, and mainlining biscuits to overcome the 4pm slump; after-work boozehounds guzzle kebabs and chips as they stagger home from the pub; middle-class gout-magnets down red wine with their slices of pâté; and overworked parents feed their kids from Iceland’s freezer cabinet (not knowing they already stopped at the chicken takeaway on their way home).
To browse the supermarket with its aisles and aisles of processed rubbish is to conclude that it’s no wonder so many British people are fat (eight in 10 middle-aged Britons are overweight or exercise too little, according to Public Health England). It’s embarrassing, when you think about it. (I say this as someone who, having decided to get healthy this year, found herself at the weekend devouring an entire chocolate Santa.)
A decade of flat-sharing has taught me that, as humans, our eating habits are incredibly varied and personal. I have observed various flatmates’ diets at close range – the single lads who eat only tortellini, the strictly vegan girl with lists of ingredients as long as her arm, the American with a special pan for his grilled cheese, the friend whose freezer bags of cheap, bloody cuts of meat gave me the chills, the Ottolenghi addict, the Italian who cooked everything from scratch, and the guy whose kippers stank out the whole house. Not to mention my boyfriend, who was once caught in the act of consuming five, yes five, jacket potatoes. It’s sad, but many of my friends and flatmates have spent most of their 20s trying to re-educate themselves about healthy eating, having been taught bad habits at home as they were growing up.
While it’s important to note that junk food is full of crap that keeps us addicted to it, I’m afraid I’m also going to blame the parents. We are all products of our circumstances. I can cook, for example, because as a young carer, I had to, and I eat vegetables because I was raised vegetarian. Parents shape our attitudes to food in ways that we are not even conscious of. Some are overzealous, banning all additives or ruthlessly assessing their children’s weight. Others bring their offspring up on chicken nuggets.
Many fail to teach their children to cook, so that when they are released into the world they head straight to the ready meal aisle. None of these parents are bad people; but they are inadvertently passing on bad habits. It would be useful if health, cookery and nutrition was a fuller part of the school curriculum, but so much of the way we approach our diets begins at home. Yet parents are in denial. Last month the Health Survey for England found that 91% of mothers and 80% of fathers of obese children are blind to the fact their offspring have a weight problem.
The trick to maintaining a healthy weight, as Simon Stevens, the NHS chief, said last month, is simply to “eat less rubbish”. Education is key. The NHS has just announced plans to put 50,000 people at risk of diabetes on a diet. Lifestyle coaching and cookery classes are part of the initiative. But adults also have a duty to educate themselves, and to take a long, hard look at how their bad food habits are affecting their children’s health.
