OPINION: Obesity researchers, behavioural psychologists and tax experts have for decades failed to stop people eating junk food. But it turns out they should have just asked their mums and dads.
British supermarkets are finding out what every parent knows: you simply hide the lollies. Admittedly, some children are ninjas when it comes to locating the most ingeniously stashed goodies. But grown-up shoppers – not a clue.
New regulations have only just come into force, mandating obscure shelf placement of food high in saturated fat, sugar and salt, and it’s working already. What better proof than confectionery company Haribo – aka E-numbers-R-Us – noting in its financial statement that this is affecting sales?
Lolly turnover has flattened and chocolate consumption is down 3%. That shoppers are already struggling to find their lardy or sugary fixes is expected to exacerbate the cost-of-living-wrought trend to cut down on naughty treats.
How long before the Resistance? Surely food-industry secret agents are already patrolling the aisles and will soon post online: “Jammy Dodgers tucked behind the pot scourers, aisle 12. Salt and vinegar crisps on the floor under the cat litter, bottom shelf, aisle 7; and Keith on checkout 3 has a stash of Smarties, POA, password: Jenny Craig.”
Supermarkets will have to keep relocating the goodies in the dead of night, leaving shelf-stackers – hitherto poorly paid – at risk of tempting bribes. This could be the big-earning career of the future.
Where we once had elaborate secret code trails ahead of illicit all-night dance raves, this will be the new modus operandi for those who want ice cream. A cheeky 10 quid to the masked geezer wiv the white van and you can be taken to a Tesco at an as-yet-undisclosed location and given a map to the secret freezer section. Next week, be prepared to wait up again for an underground pie-warmer raid.
As meal planning goes, how much more relaxing to be a ruminant in a recent farming trial in New Zealand? Again, this worthy study was nothing the researchers’ parents couldn’t have told them: we all need variety in our diets and salad is good for us.
Cows and deer fed a mix of tucker rather than just one type of plant were found to be happier and healthier. Lincoln University researchers offered one group a salad of up to 30 different plants, testing them against animals grazing a five-plant mix, and a control group on rye grass alone. The more diverse the diet, the better the animals’ welfare and the higher the volume and quality of production, by up to 25%. The produce was also measurably nutritionally healthier.
Cue for the usual cynics to ask whether Daisy and Buttercup want Thousand Island, vinaigrette or croutons with that. But together with other out-there research – potty-training calves, shearing on soft mattresses and fitting stock with methane-absorbent halters – this is the sort of science that might enable us to stop apologising to the planet for farming – paying, as it does, most of our bills.
More relaxing still is the lot of Irish farmer Peter Monaghan, who has just galvanised his organically fed snail business by nabbing contracts to supply slime and snail dung to European cosmetics makers. How it was discovered that either of these was marvellous for the complexion one wouldn’t dare enquire, and harvest methods had best remain mysterious, too. Monaghan says his constant concern is keeping his 3 million stock – worth up to €100 a kilo – under control, via netting and electric fences. “People think snails are slow,” he told the Irish Times. “But when you’ve got 10,000 of them moving one metre an hour, they can escape pretty fast.”
