My children seem to know almost everything under the sun about health and well-being. At the drop of a hat, they authoritatively spout knowledge about calories, carbohydrates, proteins, probiotics, gut health, intermittent fasting, strength training, glucose spikes, sleep cycles and metabolic fitness. They wear watches that measure their steps, monitor their heart rates, calculate their sleep, and sometimes seem to know more about their bodies than their doctors do.
The result can be an unhealthy obsession with health, of too much noise without the benediction of light. This is where the contrast with the past becomes interesting. They suffered from infectious diseases, inadequate medical care, malnutrition, high infant mortality and many conditions that modern medicine has transformed. But there were certain advantages. Food was generally less industrialised. Ultra-processed foods had not colonised the modern diet. Eating was less continuously available. There was no refrigerator filled with temptations, no food-delivery app capable of bringing a feast to one’s doorstep at midnight, and no algorithm constantly presenting photographs of food. Instant gratification had not become a cultural principle.
It would be romantic nonsense to suggest that earlier generations were uniformly healthier.
Social media has intensified this impatience. Instagram and its numerous cousins have created an enormous marketplace of instant health solutions of the one-size-fits-all variety. In this avalanche of dubious information, the problem is one of overchoice, each option looking more enticing than the next. One influencer recommends intermittent fasting. Another advocates a high-protein diet. A third demonises carbohydrates. A fourth recommends eliminating dairy. A fifth discovers the miraculous virtues of some exotic seed.
