here
was a time when children drank water or milk. That has gone as surely as
short trousers for schoolboys and the rag-and-bone man’s horse and cart.
Wherever today’s kidshang out—be it in fast-food restaurants, in
cinemas, at home or at school—they are swigging cola and cans of fruit-flavoured
fizz. Last year, more than 200 litres of the stuff bubbled down each of
their gullets. And they are getting alarmingly fat. Could these facts be
connected?
It is a suggestion that makes the soft drinks
industry
(U. K. sales £ 8.6 billion in 2001) incandescent with rage, but the
Geneva-based World Health Organisation (W. H. O.) has for the first time
nailed it to the agenda in a ground-breaking draft report on obesity and
nutrition. The report urges governments to clamp down on TV ads pushing
‘sugar-rich items’ to impressionable thirsty youngsters and consider
slapping heavier taxes on them. It suggests that school vending machines
should be turned into scrap metal.
This is all-out war. The W. H. O., concerned about
the rising tide of obesity that is killing and debilitating millions in
rich countries such as the U. K. and the U. S. A. and that is now edging
into poor countries to co-exist obscenely with malnutrition, means
business. The soft drinks industry, appalled at this interference with
its global dominance, disputes not only the scientific evidence but W.
H. O.’s right even to raise issues of taxes and advertising. For many
years, the food industry has fought a largely successful battle to have
us believe that couch potato culture is a bigger villain even than
high-fat chips, burgers and chocolate bars in the increasingly porcine
appearance of British youth. Children have been denied school playing
fields and corralled in front of the TV, they argue. They have exchanged
running in the streets for passive Internet roaming.
But the W. H. O. has now marched in where nanny once
feared to tread, insisting that slothfulness is not all, and asserting
that food and drink is an issue of public health—not just a matter of
consumer choice. In naming and slamming sugar as well as fat, it is
taking on corporations with more wealth, power and global reach than
many small nations. The industry has gone ballistic.
"We are going to see the most astonishing public
fight," says Tim Lang, Professor of Food Policy at City University. "It
is going to be a straightforward war." For years, he says, industry has
been successfully lobbying and operating behind the scenes to prevent
the sort of confrontation that is now taking place. But the
stratospheric surge in obesity, its first cousin, diabetes and other
nutrition-related diseases has spurred the W. H. O. to act. "If the W.
H. O. had not taken this on, it would have been derelict in its duties,"
says Professor Lang. "It is taking on people who have fought for 20-30
years denying evidence about the impact of diet on degenerative diseases
and food-related cancers. They have argued this is nonsense. They have
hired rent-a-professors and argued that it wasn’t true. They have gone
down the lobbying route. They have gone down, above all, an ideological
route, arguing that there are problems, but they are due to an
individual’s mis-consumption."
The first strike has come from the U. S. A. where big
business and the Bush Administration melt indistinguishably into one and
where, in 1997, Americans spent more than $ 54 billion on 14 billion
gallons of soft drinks. Babies are weaned on soda pop—a fifth of one-
and two-year-olds drink a cup a day. The average teenage boy quaffs 19
ounces daily—more than a can and a half. Some 12 per cent of boys and 11
per cent of girls are obese. In the past 20 years, obesity levels in
adolescents have tripled.
The U. S. Government registered a formal objection to
the W. H. O. draft report, arguing that it had not proved its case. It
said the report found "insufficient evidence to conclude that a causal
link between soft drinks consumption and weight gain exists" and
demanded that the offending words be "deleted or significantly revised."
This is curious, because—as Congressman Henry Waxman
pointed out—the review which led the W. H. O. to its conclusion was
co-authored by William Dietz, Director of the Division of Nutrition and
Physical Activity of the Centre For Disease Control and the U. S.
Government’s leading obesity expert. Both Dr. Dietz and the U. S.
Surgeon General have praised schools that ban soft drink machines—as has
happened across Los Angeles.
The U. S. Government’s response—and its lobbying of
EU governments to share its stance—is a powerful shot across the W. H.
O. bows. But what many campaigners fear is not so much the public fracas
as the subtler power-play of covert influence behind the scenes. The U.
N. agencies, which have to listen to opinion from every quarter, are
wide open to infiltration and manipulation. It happened when the W. H.
O. took on the tobacco industry. An unpublished report obtained by The
Guardian suggests it has been happening with the food industry too.
The report was compiled by a retired American public
health academic named Norbert Hirschhorn who has written tomes on the
secrets of the tobacco industry after delving into the archives set up
during the litigation in the U. S. A. Those archives provided
comprehensive evidence for a report to W. H. O. Director-General Gro
Harlem Brundtland in July 2000 that the tobacco companies had succeeded
in infiltrating the W. H. O. and were exerting "undue influence" over
its policies on cigarettes. Professor Hirschhorn sought to discover
whether similar tactics had been employed by sectors of the food
industry owned by or linked to tobacco. His unpublished report, dated
June 19, 2002, finds "that "undue influence" has indeed been exerted by
the tobacco industry, its food subsidiaries and allies on food and
nutrition policies. The tactics, he says, were to position the
industry’s own toxicologists and other experts on W. H. O. and F. A. O.
(Food and Agricultural Organisation) committees and to fund and support
non-governmental organisations (NGOs) which would put forward their
views. Funds were channelled through food companies to research and
policy groups sympathetic to the industry. Libertarian think-tanks and
writers who would denounce over-regulation and champion individual
choice were given financial support. Hirschhorn pays particular
attention to an organisation called the International Life Sciences
Institute (ILSI) which was founded in 1978 by Coca-Cola, Pepsi Cola,
General Foods, Kraft (owned by Philip Morris Tobacco) and Proctor &
Gamble. Until 1991, it was led by Coca-Cola Vice-President Alex
Malaspina, who negotiated for ILSI a position as an NGO "in official
relations" with the W. H. O. and a specialised consultative status with
the F. A. O. The environmental sciences division of ILSI worked closely
with the tobacco industry. The report states that after the F. A. O./W.
H. O. issued guidelines on nutrition in 1992, ILSI members congratulated
themselves on steering the U. N. organisations away from any curbs on
sugar consumption, in line with the position of the food industry. From
the conference rooms of Geneva to the corridors of a British school,
games of power and influence are being played out over what we eat and
drink. Commercial interests are trying to influence both policy makers
and pupils, with varying degrees of subtlety. Vending machines sell Coke
and Tango, crisps and sweets in schools—a quick sugar fix for hungry
kids and cash for the head to buy more books. Food companies sponsor
educational worksheets and information booklets. Walker’s salt and
fat-heavy crisps offer "books for schools" vouchers and Nestlé promises
money for schools that collect packet tops from sugar-loaded cereals.
The Food Commission, which campaigns against these
promotions, says the majority of British children consume more fat,
sugar and salt than is recommended for an adult, and around nine per
cent of boys and 13.5 per cent of girls in England are overweight. In 10
years, from 1984 to 1994, obesity in primary schoolchildren went up by
140 per cent.
Look where consumer choice has taken the U. S. A.,
says the public health lobby. Every day, 5.7 million children tune in to
Channel 1 in school to watch a 12-minute educational programme that
contains two minutes of advertising for soda pop, sweets and snack food.
The deal is that the school gets a loaned TV. The advertisers get
sitting ducks. The 30-second ad slots are so sought after, according to
Gary Ruskin of the Ralph Nader organisation, Commercial Alert, that a
couple of years ago they were selling for $ 195,000. "From the public
health perspective, the battle is to kick Channel 1 and Coke and Pepsi
out of the schools," he says. "Even if you grant that Channel 1 does an
occasional good spot, it is not worth turning schools into hustlers for
junk food. Some things should not be for sale. Parents here are
increasingly alarmed over the rise of marketing-related diseases. "These
include, he says, obesity, diabetes, alcoholism, anorexia, bulimia and
smoking-related illnesses. We are not there yet in the U. K. Nor do we
have teachers who are paid to "wrap" their car in an advert for junk
food and drive it to school every day. But where the U. S. A. leads we
are never far behind. Our obesity trends tell that story. And the
invitations to your child to consume more and more fat and sugar are all
around—witness the free toys with each burger meal and commercial
tie-ups such as the Coca-Cola/Harry Potter deal. The plastic siren
voices are calling to your children in the street, in food outlets and
on TV."