The Eskimo Myth?


#56

To answer your question, read this and you can watch the movie, My Big Fat Diet

Note the first nation people prior to the intervention were all eating packaged food and had gotten sick

As usual the nutritionist has something negative to say


(Rob) #57

If anyone is a grand bandwagoneer, it’s Dr Oz. Rides whatever train will keep up ratings and then conveniently forgets what he’s said if it conflicts with the next bandwagon to get on.

If you get your nutritional advice off TV or magazines/newpapers, you get what you deserve :flushed:


(Adam Kirby) #58

That sounds genuinely awful.


(TJ Borden) #59

I can live without Oreos since I can eat meat.

A life with neither meat or Oreos doesn’t seem like a life worth living.


#60

Hi there JellyBelly. Wow, what a post!

I did not choose to follow the 2014 teaser article by Barnard and pay to read a “study”. I did choose to think about how people show up with a weak article and use it as a shield though.

Next I also thought about what the real issue might be. So, with the goal of trying to support you in your efforts to become fat adapted, enjoy spectacular health and above all, a great and supportive posture towards others, it appears that you might still be suffering from constipation. There may be some work for you to do on your journey, just a suggestion.

So, your posts - I think this provides the citations you may appreciate:
No weight loss 5-2017
Very hard stool 7-17
Am I eating too many vegetables 8-17
Constipation 9-2017
Zero carb nutrients 10-2017
Constipation and zero carb 12-2017
Is my diet sufficient? see: “if it turns into…no accusation there. Just a warning.” 8-17

You may still be constipated! As they say, it happens.

Have you tried meditation? Just a thought, I’ve no “studies” to cite for you.

It’s all N-1 JB. Good Luck, have a GREAT day!


(Bunny) #61

FROM THE OCTOBER 2004 ISSUE
The Inuit Paradox
How can people who gorge on fat and rarely see a vegetable be healthier than we are?

Excerpts:

Patricia Cochran, an Inupiat from Northwestern Alaska, is talking about the native foods of her childhood: “We pretty much had a subsistence way of life. Our food supply was right outside our front door. We did our hunting and foraging on the Seward Peninsula and along the Bering Sea.

“Our meat was seal and walrus, marine mammals that live in cold water and have lots of fat. We used seal oil for our cooking and as a dipping sauce for food. We had moose, caribou, and reindeer. We hunted ducks, geese, and little land birds like quail, called ptarmigan. We caught crab and lots of fish—salmon, whitefish, tomcod, pike, and char. Our fish were cooked, dried, smoked, or frozen. We ate frozen raw whitefish, sliced thin. The elders liked stinkfish, fish buried in seal bags or cans in the tundra and left to ferment. And fermented seal flipper, they liked that too.”

Cochran’s family also received shipments of whale meat from kin living farther north, near Barrow. Beluga was one she liked; raw muktuk, which is whale skin with its underlying blubber, she definitely did not. “To me it has a chew-on-a-tire consistency,” she says, “but to many people it’s a mainstay.” In the short subarctic summers, the family searched for roots and greens and, best of all from a child’s point of view, wild blueberries, crowberries, or salmonberries, which her aunts would mix with whipped fat to make a special treat called akutuq—in colloquial English, Eskimo ice cream.

Now Cochran directs the Alaska Native Science Commission, which promotes research on native cultures and the health and environmental issues that affect them. She sits at her keyboard in Anchorage, a bustling city offering fare from Taco Bell to French cuisine. But at home Cochran keeps a freezer filled with fish, seal, walrus, reindeer, and whale meat, sent by her family up north, and she and her husband fish and go berry picking—“sometimes a challenge in Anchorage,” she adds, laughing. “I eat fifty-fifty,” she explains, half traditional, half regular American.

No one, not even residents of the northernmost villages on Earth, eats an entirely traditional northern diet anymore. Even the groups we came to know as Eskimo—which include the Inupiat and the Yupiks of Alaska, the Canadian Inuit and Inuvialuit, Inuit Greenlanders, and the Siberian Yupiks—have probably seen more changes in their diet in a lifetime than their ancestors did over thousands of years. The closer people live to towns and the more access they have to stores and cash-paying jobs, the more likely they are to have westernized their eating. And with westernization, at least on the North American continent, comes processed foods and cheap carbohydrates—Crisco, Tang, soda, cookies, chips, pizza, fries. “The young and urbanized,” says Harriet Kuhnlein, director of the Centre for Indigenous Peoples’ Nutrition and Environment at McGill University in Montreal, “are increasingly into fast food.” So much so that type 2 diabetes, obesity, and other diseases of Western civilization are becoming causes for concern there too.

Four years ago, Cordain reviewed the macronutrient content (protein, carbohydrates, fat) in the diets of 229 hunter-gatherer groups listed in a series of journal articles collectively known as the Ethnographic Atlas. These are some of the oldest surviving human diets. In general, hunter-gatherers tend to eat more animal protein than we do in our standard Western diet, with its reliance on agriculture and carbohydrates derived from grains and starchy plants. Lowest of all in carbohydrate, and highest in combined fat and protein, are the diets of peoples living in the Far North, where they make up for fewer plant foods with extra fish. What’s equally striking, though, says Cordain, is that these meat-and-fish diets also exhibit a natural “protein ceiling.” Protein accounts for no more than 35 to 40 percent of their total calories, which suggests to him that’s all the protein humans can comfortably handle.

This ceiling, Cordain thinks, could be imposed by the way we process protein for energy. The simplest, fastest way to make energy is to convert carbohydrates into glucose, our body’s primary fuel. But if the body is out of carbs, it can burn fat, or if necessary, break down protein. The name given to the convoluted business of making glucose from protein is gluconeogenesis. It takes place in the liver, uses a dizzying slew of enzymes, and creates nitrogen waste that has to be converted into urea and disposed of through the kidneys. On a truly traditional diet, says Draper, recalling his studies in the 1970s, Arctic people had plenty of protein but little carbohydrate, so they often relied on gluconeogenesis. Not only did they have bigger livers to handle the additional work but their urine volumes were also typically larger to get rid of the extra urea. Nonetheless, there appears to be a limit on how much protein the human liver can safely cope with: Too much overwhelms the liver’s waste-disposal system, leading to protein poisoning—nausea, diarrhea, wasting, and death.

Whatever the metabolic reason for this syndrome, says John Speth, an archaeologist at the University of Michigan’s Museum of Anthropology, plenty of evidence shows that hunters through the ages avoided protein excesses, discarding fat-depleted animals even when food was scarce. Early pioneers and trappers in North America encountered what looks like a similar affliction, sometimes referred to as rabbit starvation because rabbit meat is notoriously lean. Forced to subsist on fat-deficient meat, the men would gorge themselves, yet wither away. Protein can’t be the sole source of energy for humans, concludes Cordain. Anyone eating a meaty diet that is low in carbohydrates must have fat as well.

Fats have been demonized in the United States, says Eric Dewailly, a professor of preventive medicine at Laval University in Quebec. But all fats are not created equal. This lies at the heart of a paradox—the Inuit paradox, if you will. In the Nunavik villages in northern Quebec, adults over 40 get almost half their calories from native foods, says Dewailly, and they don’t die of heart attacks at nearly the same rates as other Canadians or Americans. Their cardiac death rate is about half of ours, he says. As someone who looks for links between diet and cardiovascular health, he’s intrigued by that reduced risk. **Because the traditional Inuit diet is “so restricted,”**k he says, it’s easier to study than the famously heart-healthy Mediterranean diet, with its cornucopia of vegetables, fruits, grains, herbs, spices, olive oil, and red wine.

Stefansson had arrived at this conclusion, too, while living among the Copper Eskimo. He recalled how he and his Eskimo companions had become quite ill after weeks of eating “caribou so skinny that there was no appreciable fat behind the eyes or in the marrow.” Later he agreed to repeat the miserable experience at Bellevue Hospital, for science’s sake, and for a while ate nothing but defatted meat. “The symptoms brought on at Bellevue by an incomplete meat diet [lean without fat] were exactly the same as in the Arctic . . . diarrhea and a feeling of general baffling discomfort,” he wrote. He was restored with a fat fix but “had lost considerable weight.” For the remainder of his year on meat, Stefansson tucked into his rations of chops and steaks with fat intact. “A normal meat diet is not a high-protein diet,” he pronounced. “We were really getting three-quarters of our calories from fat.” (Fat is more than twice as calorie dense as protein or carbohydrate, but even so, that’s a lot of lard. A typical U.S diet provides about 35 percent of its calories from fat.)

Stefansson dropped 10 pounds on his meat-and-fat regimen and remarked on its “slenderizing” aspect, so perhaps it’s no surprise he’s been co-opted as a posthumous poster boy for Atkins-type diets. No discussion about diet these days can avoid Atkins. Even some researchers interviewed for this article couldn’t resist referring to the Inuit way of eating as the “original Atkins.” “Superficially, at a macronutrient level, the two diets certainly look similar,” allows Samuel Klein, a nutrition researcher at Washington University in St. Louis, who’s attempting to study how Atkins stacks up against conventional weight-loss diets. Like the Inuit diet, Atkins is low in carbohydrates and very high in fat. But numerous researchers, including Klein, point out that there are profound differences between the two diets, beginning with the type of meat and fat eaten.

Wild-animal fats are different from both farm-animal fats and processed fats, says Dewailly. Farm animals, cooped up and stuffed with agricultural grains (carbohydrates) typically have lots of solid, highly saturated fat. Much of our processed food is also riddled with solid fats, or so-called trans fats, such as the reengineered vegetable oils and shortenings cached in baked goods and snacks. “A lot of the packaged food on supermarket shelves contains them. So do commercial french fries,” Dewailly adds.

Wild animals that range freely and eat what nature intended, says Dewailly, have fat that is far more healthful. Less of their fat is saturated, and more of it is in the monounsaturated form (like olive oil). What’s more, cold-water fishes and sea mammals are particularly rich in polyunsaturated fats called n-3 fatty acids or omega-3 fatty acids. These fats appear to benefit the heart and vascular system. But the polyunsaturated fats in most Americans’ diets are the omega-6 fatty acids supplied by vegetable oils. By contrast, whale blubber consists of 70 percent monounsaturated fat and close to 30 percent omega-3s, says Dewailly.

Omega-3s evidently help raise HDL cholesterol, lower triglycerides, and are known for anticlotting effects. (Ethnographers have remarked on an Eskimo propensity for nosebleeds.) These fatty acids are believed to protect the heart from life-threatening arrhythmias that can lead to sudden cardiac death. And like a “natural aspirin,” adds Dewailly, omega-3 polyunsaturated fats help put a damper on runaway inflammatory processes, which play a part in atherosclerosis, arthritis, diabetes, and other so-called diseases of civilization.

You can be sure, however, that Atkins devotees aren’t routinely eating seal and whale blubber. Besides the acquired taste problem, their commerce is extremely restricted in the United States by the Marine Mammal Protection Act, says Bruce Holub, a nutritional biochemist in the department of human biology and nutritional sciences at the University of Guelph in Ontario.

“In heartland America it’s probable they’re not eating in an Eskimo-like way,” says Gary Foster, clinical director of the Weight and Eating Disorders Program at the Pennsylvania School of Medicine. Foster, who describes himself as open-minded about Atkins, says he’d nonetheless worry if people saw the diet as a green light to eat all the butter and bacon—saturated fats—they want. Just before rumors surfaced that Robert Atkins had heart and weight problems when he died, Atkins officials themselves were stressing saturated fat should account for no more than 20 percent of dieters’ calories. This seems to be a clear retreat from the diet’s original don’t-count-the-calories approach to bacon and butter and its happy exhortations to “plow into those prime ribs.”

Furthermore, 20 percent of calories from saturated fats is double what most nutritionists advise. Before plowing into those prime ribs, readers of a recent edition of the Dr. Atkins’ New Diet Revolution are urged to take omega-3 pills to help protect their hearts. “If you watch carefully,” says Holub wryly, “you’ll see many popular U.S. diets have quietly added omega-3 pills, in the form of fish oil or flaxseed capsules, as supplements.” …More


Inuit (Eskimo) population not as healthy as we thought?
(Chris) #62

pegan

peegan

pee-gan

hehehehehe


(Jay Patten) #63

Ask yourself, is the alternative diet working better? Or is it worse?


(Steve Stephenson) #64

After a little more than half a year on my zero carb (ZC: no foods from plant sources) my oncologist declared that I was in remission; “remarkable” given that it was “high volume” metastatic prostate cancer. He said “keep doing what you’re doing”.


(Richard Morris) #65

Have you seen the diet the Inuit eat now? You need to look instead at studies of remnant hunter gatherer populations before they introduced refined flour and sugar into their diets to replace traditional calorie sources with “convenience” sources. A little extra w3 oil and their adapted genetic armementarium is not going to protect them against that onslaught.

I just have to stand and applaud @LindsaySue’s response which nicely unpacked the available evidence to show a common tactic among Vegan activists to use papers with titles that suit their purpose that are protected from further scrutiny by paywalls … but that when exposed tell an entirely different story.

One of the cool things about being a Uni student this year is that I now have access to a world class science faculty and I can if I want read almost any journal published in the past 200 years.

Eskimo and Heart Disease.pdf (333.5 KB)

This study shows that the assertion that “Greenland Inuit eating a diet rich in omega 3 polyunsaturated oil from fish are more protected from cardiovascular disease than Danes eating less omega 3 polyunsaturated oil” is not a robust statement. They don’t assert that they didn’t have low rates, just that reporting constraints of the time could have resulted in actual rates being under reported. Their summation …

To date, more than 5000 articles have been published on the alleged beneficial properties of U-3 fatty acids, and the billion dollar industry producing and selling fish oil capsules, based on a hypothesis that was questionable from the beginning.

Of course Barnard used that title to infer that this new study showed their traditional diet was not healthy … that was not what the study found. It found that the assertion that Inuit could eat a diet variously from 40 to 60% of energy from carbohydrate AND fish oils and then receive protection from cardiovascular disease … could not be supported by the science.

Barnard also wanted to deploy the term “Blubber” as often as he could … have a guess why he might want to do that!

Here is the Dietary intake for Inuit from the other study @LindsaySue referred to, anyone think that 40-60% of carbohydrate is representative of a paleolithic arctic diet?

“Concern trolling” much?

I find @jellybelly’s trolling (let’s call that for what it is) as a teachable opportunity that only barely nets a justification to permit him to inhabit the forum. It also tickles me that leveraging his industry for our own benefit must really irritate him. I’m impressed he continues to repeat the trek to this well, only to return yet again unslaked.

But if he starts acting out too much … I’ll give him a holiday.


(Brian) #66

Thank you, Richard!!


#67

You realise the article’s references are listed.


(Adam Kirby) #68

You’re still having great trouble understanding the concept of vegan cherrypicking. But no worries, Richard’s post has clarified the contents of the study in question, something Barnard didn’t do, so I’d recommend giving it a good read.


(TJ Borden) #69

Hmmm… joined may 2017…

Is there such a thing as a sleeper troll?


#70

I noticed that too!


(Chris) #71

Well, at least he/she has been constipated since then.


(TJ Borden) #72

That would make anyone grumpy


(Todd Allen) #73

I suggest combining Pa-leo and Ve-gan we should be calling them Pagans.


(Chris) #74

How about we just launch them into space instead?


#75

Thank you

To clarify one point: i have not sourced anything from buzzfeed