Political Milk Preference
A pretty reliable indicator for someone’s worldview is their milk preference. “I don’t care for milk,” or “check the date” or “we may have some in the fridge” usually means center, politically agnostic. Multiple gallons of whole or 2% indicates a moderate conservatism. Milk alternatives (oatmilk, almond, soy, cashew) indicate a liberal leaning. Complete avoidance of all milk (as it could be construed as a racist dogwhistle) indicates far left tendencies. Over-friendliness with the local farmer and a desire to get that raw, unfiltered stuff means… don’t ask.
The same can be said for a great variety of dietary viewpoints. Vegans tend to lean left, carnivores tend to lean right, etc. These are broad generalizations, but they are common enough to be recognized as stereotypes. What do they convey? It’s quite possible that health philosophies can indicate a great deal more than we expect about an individual's worldview. “You are what you eat,” appears to have drastically further-reaching implications than initially thought. In general I have identified two prevailing camps, or more accurately worldviews or philosophies (whichever you prefer), and both seem to be operating on completely different paradigms in terms of what they view as “health.”
Because of the wide-ranging beliefs within each camp, it is difficult to classify them in a way that feels totally satisfactory. But for the sake of this article, we can divide the two predominant health worldviews into the Vitalist and Technocratic worldviews. Two prevailing personalities to represent each are Ray Peat (biochemist and philosopher) and Brian Johnson (the man spending millions to live forever, founder of Don’t Die, henceforth Moon Brah) respectively.
In the Vitalist camp, there is a preference for viewing the body as a living organism with inherent needs and signals. In general they tend to be pro-metabolic, warmth, saturated (animal) fats, minimal polyunsaturated fatty acids (seed oils/’PUFA’), pro-sugar (though this is perhaps the most contentious within the vitalist camp), prioritizing of immediate vitality, skeptical of establishment attitudes and prescriptions, wary of long term “studies,” and not always opposed to the occasional cigarette, in my personal experience. An increase in the metabolic rate and body temperature is seen as a high-energy, and therefore “vital,” state. There is another sense in which this camp is very much identified with their body as not merely an extension of themselves but a real expression of soul, in most cases.
In the Technocratic camp, almost completely opposite, we see an attitude more trusting toward the pharmacological, surgical, and corporate establishment. They showcase a biomarker driven approach, are more pro-plant based, with more of an aversion to animal based foods (red meat, butter, etc.), PUFA friendly, prioritizing longevity even at the cost of strength or “vitality” dips, privileging data and a “science-based” approach (readers of mine will quickly recognize what is suspect about the claim of having a unique claim on science). Lower body temperature and a slowing down of the metabolism is, at least in the case of Moon Brah, a sign of a slower rate of aging.
So, who’s correct?
There have been many jokes made about the ever-evolving state of so-called “health science”. One such joke is the time-traveling dietician. The joke goes like this: a man is eating a breakfast plate of eggs, bacon, and fruit. A time-travelling dietician arrives from the future and says “wait, don’t eat those eggs: they’ll spike your cholesterol,” and leaves. Seconds later he returns, shouting “actually, eggs contain good and bad cholesterol– you can eat the white but not the yoke,” and leaves again. Then, he zaps in a third time: “Wait, actually– we found out that dietary cholesterol has no effect on cholesterol. We actually don’t even know what cholesterol is. But don’t eat that bacon, because the sodium is bad for your blood pressure– *zap* actually, sodium can sometimes lower blood pressure, depending on your electrolyte balance, but don’t drink that orange juice, it’s too sugary– *zap* actually, your brain needs sugar– *zap* you know what? Just do whatever you want. I’m sorry for ruining your meal…”
Anyone who has really tried to take their health seriously has certainly felt this pain. It almost appears as if assuming scientific data is able to, apart from any interpretive framework, provide one with objective truth suffers from the fact that there can be no data which informs one how they ought to interpret the data. In more philosophical terms: if someone treats justification as primarily a matter of accumulating discrete evidences—without examining the conceptual framework that gives those evidences their meaning—then they’re operating within an evidentialist style of reasoning, rather than a paradigm-level one. This is a problem because we run into the fact that nowadays, because of the funding of studies from third party interests, it is possible to fabricate a study that proves whatever you want.
A person usually ends up, once they realize the problem of the underdetermination of data, going based off of their personal experience. What has proved helpful in my own experience? Do I feel better on high-carb, or low carb? Vegan, or carnivore? From there they will be forced to experiment for themselves. And personal experience is only somewhat helpful: placebo effects mask a great deal, and what good people gain from a lifestyle change usually has less to do with the specifics of what they changed (because the number of variables in diet, lifestyle, and biology is absolutely dizzying in any case), but from becoming more self-conscious in their decisions. This produces a scenario where we essentially have no solid answers as to what can work across all individual scenarios. And yet a lot of people, because they usually fail to recognize the sample size of their individual experience is n=1, end up believing that their unique situation actually applies across all categories, and that others should imitate their regimen. They fail to understand the success of their personal regimen is largely subjective, and that what they measure as “success” is also personally determined.
For example, maybe I shave ten years of my life off with steroid use but I’m stronger than everyone I know and feel awesome– maybe I’m using nicotine for focus and I don’t so much care about the loss in VO2 max, because reading for long hours is more important to me than a marathon time. And not only that, but it’s quite possible their chosen philosophy is not even working for them in the way they think; they just assume the diet or lifestyle change is working in such and such way. I may believe veganism is not only healthy, but morally right. My moral superiority may be so intoxicating, that I neglect to correlate negative health outcomes like cancer with my vegan lifestyle– I may attribute it to those few cigarettes I tried in my lifetime.
You can easily see a scenario where because of the emotional involvement with one’s choice of worldview, it becomes very easy to mistakenly attribute correlation with causation. Not only that, but identity appears to be, for better or worse, intricately linked with consumption. The thing about modernity, however, is that technological abundance often masks the real consequences of our decisions, and we rarely live to see how the general trends of our day play out. Perhaps Moon Brah will live forever– perhaps he’s completely mistaken on his metaphysical view of what life actually is. Everyone is sort of taking their own wager with health– and no one has lived to see the final analysis.
And so you end up with a situation where two camps, with completely opposing philosophies around health are both claiming that they possess the correct way, and yet in a sense it is impossible to verify definitively. Am I saying both are right? No– in my interpretive framework, according to my personal experience, Peat and the vitalist approach have been where I placed my bets. In my personal experience, I have overcome a lot of very debilitating injuries and conditions with the help of some of Peat’s framework. Now, notice I did not say “protocols”. That’s because Peat’s philosophy appears to suggest that rather than submitting to a dogmatic “protocol” for health– seeing this approach as essentially reductionist– it is necessary for an individual to "perceive, think, act.” Perhaps in another essay I will elucidate my personal experience and experimentation, and where I agree and disagree with Peat. But I hope I have at least generated some awareness for the reader with regard to their own embeddedness.
