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Chapter
One: What Is The Food Revolution?
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I
was born into ice cream. Well, not literally, but just about. My
father, Irv Robbins, founded, and for many years owned and ran what
would become the world's largest ice cream company: Baskin-Robbins
(31 Flavors). Along with my uncle, Burt Baskin, he built an empire,
with thousands of stores worldwide and sales eventually measuring
in the billions of dollars. We had an ice cream cone-shaped swimming
pool, our cats were named after ice cream flavors, and I sometimes
ate ice cream for breakfast. Not all that surprisingly, many people
in the family struggled with weight problems, my uncle died of a
heart attack in his early fifties, my father developed serious diabetes
and high blood pressure, and I was sick more often than not.
None of that showed up on the balance sheets, however, and my
father was grooming me to succeed him. I was his only son, and he
expected me to follow in his footsteps. But things did not develop
that way. I chose to leave behind the ice cream company and the
money it represented, in order to take my own rocky road. I walked
away from an opportunity to live a life of wealth to live a different
kind of life, a life in which, I hoped, I might be able to be true
to my values and learn to make a contribution to the well-being
and happiness of others. It was a choice for integrity. Instead
of the Great American Dream of financial success, I was pulled forward
by a deeper dream.
Explaining that kind of thing to my father, a conservative Republican
businessman who sometimes drove a Rolls Royce and never to my knowledge
went a day without reading the Wall Street Journal, was not easy.
At one point I told him, "Look, Dad, it's a different world
than when you grew up. The environment is deteriorating rapidly
under the impact of human activities. Every two seconds somewhere
on Earth a child dies of starvation while elsewhere there are abundant
food resources going to waste. Do you see that for me, under these
circumstances, inventing a thirty-second flavor just would not be
an adequate response for my life?"
My father was not pleased. He had worked hard his whole life and
had achieved a level of financial success most people can only fantasize
about, and he wanted to share his success and his company with his
only son. From his point of view, I am sure, he got the only kid
in the country who would turn down such a golden opportunity.
But turn it down I did, and, hungering for connection to the natural
world and life's deeper rhythms, I moved with my wife, Deo, in 1969,
to a little island off the coast of British Columbia. There we proceeded
to build a one-room log cabin, where we lived for the next ten years,
growing most of our own food. We were financially poor, some years
spending less than $1,000 total, but we were rich in love. Four
years into our time on the island, our son Ocean was born into my
hands. Deo and I are still lovingly together all these years later,
by the way-a rarity in our generation.
During this time we began to live by the values that would culminate,
in 1987, with the publication of my book Diet for a New America.
I was learning to perceive the immense toll exacted by the standard
North American diet-and the benefits that might be gained by a shift
in a healthier direction. I was learning that the same food choices
that do so much to prevent disease-that give you the most vitality,
the strongest immune system, and the greatest life expectancy-were
also the ones that took the least toll on the environment, conserved
our precious natural resources, and were the most compassionate
toward our fellow creatures.
In Diet for a New America I described what it was that pulled
me away from the path my father had envisioned and prepared for
me, and set me instead on the one I took:
"It's a dream of a success in which all beings share because
it's founded on reverence for life. A dream of a society at peace
with its conscience because it respects and lives in harmony with
all life forms. A dream of a people living in accord with the natural
laws of Creation, cherishing and caring for the environment, conserving
nature instead of destroying it. A dream of a society that is truly
healthy, practicing a wise and compassionate stewardship of a balanced
ecosystem.
"This is not my dream alone. It is really the dream of all
human beings who feel the plight of the Earth as their own, and
sense our obligation to respect and protect the world in which we
live. To some degree, all of us share in this dream. Yet few of
us are satisfied that we are doing all that is needed to make it
happen. Almost none of us are aware of just how powerfully our eating
habits affect the possibility of this dream becoming a reality.
We do not realize that one way or the other, how we eat has a tremendous
impact."
In Diet for a New America, I attempted to show in full detail
the nature of this impact on our health, and in addition on the
vigor of our society, on the health of our world, and on the well-being
of its creatures. I had no idea, while writing that book, that it
would become a bestseller. I never suspected that I would receive
75,000 letters from people who read the book or who heard me speak
about its message. And even if I had known how widely the book would
be read, and how deeply it would impact the course of many people's
lives, I don't think I could ever have imagined that it might help
to impact choices on a larger scale. In the five years immediately
following the book's publication, beef consumption in the United
States dropped nearly 20 percent.
But in the last few years there's been a backlash. Fad diet books
have sold millions of copies telling people they can lose weight
and obtain optimum health while eating all the bacon and sausage
they want. The U.S. meat industry has managed to divert attention
away from the fact that the animals raised in modern factory farms
are forced to endure conditions of almost unimaginable cruelty and
deprivation. The USDA is proposing to irradiate increasing numbers
of foods to combat the deadly food-borne diseases such as E. coli
0157:H7 that increasingly breed in today's factory farms and slaughterhouses.
Rather than clean up the conditions that produce these pathogens
in the first place, the U.S. meat industry has strongly supported
food disparagement laws that make it illegal to criticize perishable
food products, and then has used such legislation to sue those who
challenge their control over your wallet. They even sued Oprah Winfrey
for saying that, based on what she'd learned about meat production
in the United States, she was never going to eat another burger.
Meanwhile, the chemical industry has mounted an aggressive campaign
to discredit organic food. And without the knowledge or consent
of most Americans, two-thirds of the products on our supermarket
shelves now contain genetically engineered ingredients.
The debate about animal products and genetically engineered foods,
and about their impact on our health and our world, is not going
to go away. It will be fought in courtrooms and the media, but it
will also be fought in people's minds, hearts, and kitchens. In
the process, those seeking a more humane and sustainable way of
life-for themselves and for our society-will be criticized and attacked
by the industries that profit from activities that are harming people
and the planet.
As the discussion intensifies, so will the amount of information
floating around. Some of it will be valid and rigorously accurate.
And some of it will be the product of the public relations machinery
of the industries that are selling unhealthy food and exploiting
our world. I have written The Food Revolution because I believe
that, given a chance, most people can tell the difference between
the propaganda of industries whose entire intention is to promote
and sell products, and data from researchers and scientists whose
focus is the public interest.
I have written The Food Revolution to provide solid, reliable
information for the struggle to achieve a world where the health
of people and the Earth community is more important than the profit
margins of any industry, where basic human needs take precedence
over corporate greed. I have written this book so that you might
have clear information on which to base your food choices. It will
show you how to attain greater health and respond more deeply from
your connection to all of life.
There is still strong in our society the belief that animals and
the natural world have value only insofar as they can be converted
into revenue. That nature is a commodity. And that the American
dream is one of unlimited consumption.
There are many of us, on the other hand, who believe that animals
and the natural world have value by virtue of being alive. That
Nature is a community to which we belong and to which we owe our
lives. And that the deeper American dream is one of unlimited compassion.
In 1962, Rachel Carson dedicated Silent Spring to the "host
of people" who are "even now fighting the thousands of
small battles that in the end will bring victory for sanity and
common sense." I have written The Food Revolution because I
believe that virtually every one of us, if given a chance, would
choose to be one of those people and would make our lives, if we
knew how, into statements of caring and compassion.
I believe there is within every human being a desire to make choices
that help create a healthier future for ourselves, for our children,
and for our beleaguered planet and all the life it holds. This desire
may be buried, it may be twisted, bent, and broken, it may seem
all but destroyed, but it still remains, driving each of us even
if from afar, hungering for an opportunity to be seen and heard
and felt.
Judging by what appears in the mass media, it would be easy to
think that people are only interested in the most shallow and trivial
of concerns, that all we want is to eat our burgers, that we couldn't
care less about how our food is produced and what the consequences
will be to our health and to the wider Earth community. But that's
a grievous lie, and it dishonors who we are. The truth is, most
people care about world hunger, they are deeply concerned about
global warming, they abhor cruelty to animals, they know the planet
is in crisis, they sense much of the food we eat in this society
is unhealthy, they are alarmed about the uncertainties of genetic
engineering, and they are looking for ways to express their caring
and concern.
I don't care whether you call yourself a vegetarian, a vegan,
or an asparagus. I care whether you live in accord with your values,
whether your life has integrity and purpose, whether you act with
compassion for yourself and for all of life.
I don't care whether your diet is politically correct. I care
whether your food choices are consistent with your love. I care
whether they bring you health, uphold your spirit, and help you
to fulfill your true nature and reason for being alive.
The truth, as has been said countless times, will set you free.
But what is said far less often is that sometimes it first will
make you confront habits of behavior and thought that might be limiting
you, so that you might attain the awareness to use your freedom
for the benefit of your greater self and all of life.
Not that long ago, the average American mother would have been
more concerned to learn that her son or daughter was becoming a
vegetarian than to learn that he or she was taking up smoking. Not
that long ago, organic food products could only be found in specialty
stores. Blood cholesterol levels of 300 milligrams per deciliter
were considered normal, and patients in hospital coronary care units
were fed bacon and eggs, and white toast with margarine and jam
for breakfast. Not that long ago, people who ate food that was healthy,
environmentally friendly, and caused no animals to suffer were considered
health nuts, while those who ate food that caused disease, took
a staggering toll on the resource base, and depended on immense
animal suffering were considered normal. But all this is changing.
The revolution sweeping our relationship to our food and our world,
I believe, is part of an historical imperative. This is what happens
when the human spirit is activated. One hundred and fifty years
ago, slavery was legal in the United States. One hundred years ago,
women could not vote in most states. Eighty years ago, there were
no laws in the United States against any form of child abuse. Fifty
years ago, we had no Civil Rights Act, no Clean Air or Clean Water
legislation, no Endangered Species Act. Today, millions of people
are refusing to buy clothes and shoes made in sweatshops and are
seeking to live healthier and more Earth-friendly lifestyles. In
the last fifteen years alone, as people in the United States have
realized how cruelly veal calves are treated, veal consumption has
dropped 62 percent.
I don't believe we are isolated consumers, alienated from what
gives life, and condemned to make a terrible mess of things on this
planet. I believe we are human beings, flawed but learning, stumbling
but somehow making our way toward wisdom, sometimes ignorant but
learning through it all to live with respect for ourselves, for
each other, and for the whole Earth community.
I have written The Food Revolution in the belief that-wounded
and human as we are-we can still create a thriving and sustainable
way of life for all. The restorative powers of both the human body
and the Earth are immense.
When I walked away from Baskin-Robbins and the money it represented,
I did so because I knew there was a deeper dream. I did it because
I knew that with all the reasons that each of us has to despair
and become cynical, there still beats in our common heart our deepest
prayers for a better life and a more loving world.
When I look out into the world, I see the forces that would bring
us disaster. I see the deep night of unthinkable cruelty and blindness.
But I also look within the human heart and find something of love
there, something that cares and shines out into the dark universe
like a bright beacon. And in the shining of that light, I feel the
dreams and prayers of all beings. In the shining of that beacon
I feel all of our hopes for a better future, and the strength to
do what we are here to do.
May all be fed. May all be healed. May all be loved.
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