Once again, the sky is falling on our heads.
This time we have to halve our meat and sugar consumption or else the planet will grind to a halt in 2050. Or explode. Or the oceans will inundate the landmasses and drown us all. Or we will all weigh 40 stone. Or something.
As will all Chicken Little forecasts they give us a date, some time in the future where if we don’t do X then Y will happen. Usually Y turns out to be some sort of Armageddon just to scare the pants off us.
I am somewhat bemused by the idea that if I eat two rashers instead of four, or take one spoon of sugar in my tea instead of two, then somehow I can sit back with a sigh of relief safe in the knowledge that I have not only saved the obesity “epidemic” but saved saved the planet as well.
Doubtless there have been doom merchants throughout the course of history, but in the past society had the common sense to burn them at the stake [or even burn them with the steak?]. Maybe we should have another look at that idea? I certainly remember times when we were warned that if the Earth’s population reached five billion or so, that we would all be crushed shoulder to shoulder and would all starve.
We have all become used to “epidemics” and “pandemics” but now we have a new word that will doubtless be used to beat us into submission – “syndemic”. This apparently is when two or more “epidemics” combine forces to wipe us all off the planet. So the current “syndemic” somehow combines obesity and warble gloaming into one neat package.
I am quaking in my boots.
Steak for dinner tonight, methinks?