A simple Google search for “meat is bad for you” provides over a billion results in .66 seconds.
Type in “vegetables are bad for you,” however, and you’ll get about 700 million results in approximately the same time frame.
How about grains?
117 million data points in half a second.
And legumes?
Almost 12 million articles.
One can run this experiment with every food group under the sun and get similar results—which allows for justification of just about any extreme diet proselytized as the “one and true” way of eating for all of humanity.
For instance, advocates of the Carnivore diet can tell us all about the digestive stress that eating large quantities of vegetables can have on our system; the futility of carbohydrates in the human diet; and the poor assimilation of both plant protein and plant-based omega-3 fats by the human body.
Disciples of the Paleo movement will sermonize about the anti-nutrients in both grains and legumes and how most of the former are genetically modified, as well as how they promote both inflammation and fat accumulation in humans.
Vegetarians and Vegans will preach about the links between high-animal-protein diets and cancer, along with the artery-clogging repercussions of dietary cholesterol, saturated fat, and dairy consumption—not to mention the evils of factory farming and the environmental degradation surrounding meat production in general.
And because of the technological age in which we currently live, each of these aforementioned camps can cherry pick from a plethora of data “proving” their assertions.
Unfortunately for most of the members of these dietary religions, however, the result of their ideological tunnel vision will, in the long run, most likely be the inverse of what they ostensibly seek: a diminution of their health, wellbeing, and longevity.
This is because perhaps, maybe, people who argue all day about what the “best” diet is, don’t, in fact, hold wellness as their ultimate goal.
Maybe—just maybe—this comes second to wanting to be right.
And wanting to be right, no matter the costs, is usually a sure-fire way to not just end up wrong about a lot, but also ensure that the willful ignorance that accompanies this type of mindset eats away at other aspects of one’s health beyond the reach of even the most pristine and “scientifically sound” nutritional regimen.
If one is to truly master the art of living—freeing themselves from the spiritual and material slavery in which most of us in the industrialized world are unwittingly subjugated—one has to learn to rise above the partial truths scattered about at eyeline and soar above the orthodoxy, connecting the puzzle pieces only visible from 330 thousand feet above sea level, in order to form a complete portrait of reality (or as close to complete as we mere mortals are capable).
This heterodox approach to life is, in my humble opinion, the first step towards spiritual mastery: what the ancients referred to as “enlightenment” or “awakening,” and what our modern society has so atrociously distorted and reinterpreted as “wokeness” (a subject for another essay perhaps).
In regard to the topic of nutrition, however, the argonaut of the spirit (as Friedrich Nietzsche termed the free-spirited truth seeker) looks for commonalities across disciplines, keeping only what is useful and discarding the rest, ultimately formulating their own unique approach, unchained from the narrow-minded groupthink of the unconscious masses and their nutritional oracles.
While it may seem like I am disparaging the aforementioned diets, this couldn’t, in fact, be further from the truth.
As a matter of fact, years ago, when I first got started as a physical trainer, I considered myself part of the Paleo camp, and I even worked with one of its biggest modern crusaders in effort to help those around me get healthier and stronger: an experience in which I am still grateful for having had the opportunity to participate.
Far from any kind of contempt, I actually feel indebted to every one of these movements, for they have each granted me at least one, and sometimes many, variables to consider—which, in turn, have allowed me to recalibrate my approach to nutrition with each new bit of information gleaned and get closer to some semblance of truth.
What I have learned throughout my many years of study is that all of these philosophies—from Veganism to Carnivorism—were spawned as a direct response to at least one of the many extreme pathologies within our modern dietary and agricultural landscape, and so, each contains at least one nugget of truth.
As the 20th century dawned, and quite particularly after the second World War, Western civilization had just one goal in regard to food: feed as many people as possible, as quickly and cheaply as possible.
While this tunnel-vision allowed humanity to make remarkable strides in assuring that people the world over were saved from the ravages of malnutrition and starvation, this came at the expense of food quality as well as the integrity of our air, soil, and waterways.
The result is a modern diet, especially in materially prosperous societies, that, while calorically dense, has become extremely poor in nutrition.
Not just this, but in order to keep costs down, profit margins high, and continue producing in abundance, we have lost touch with traditional and holistic agricultural practices and transitioned to methods that not only degrade the ecosystems from which we derive our sustenance, but also treat the animals we consume with appalling cruelty, a deeply immoral stain on our civilization that also leads to suboptimal health in those who consume these poor creatures.
It was this precise climate that led to the backlash which manifested itself across the years in several of the dietary ideologies that are so popular today.
Vegans and Vegetarians are right when they point out the ethical failures of factory farming, as well as the toll this method of meat production takes on our environment.
Paleo enthusiasts are correct when they call out the abundance of processed carbohydrates in the modern diet, and how this way of eating is misaligned with our evolutionary roots, leading to deleterious effects on our overall health.
Carnivores are accurate to respond to the blind spots of the Vegan and Vegetarian movements, pointing out that animal foods were, and still remain, an essential component of humanity’s physiological development; and furthermore, that there are alternative, more humane ways, to raise meat which are not only better for the animals as well as those consuming them, but also more aligned with environmental health than the industrial monocropping utilized to produce many plant-based alternatives.
It was only by taking each one of these varying philosophies seriously, listening to their respective arguments with an open mind and heart—then researching the topics on my own, comparing my findings with my own interdisciplinary knowledge and applying what I learned on myself—that I have been able to separate the wheat from the chaff, so to speak, and formulate a more holistic approach to the way I consume food.
My method tries to balance what I feel are the four integral aspects one should consider when deciding what goes on their plate: (1) Personal Health; (2) Environmental Sustainability; (3) Ethical Treatment of Animals; and (4) Practicality.
When it comes to personal health, this is where I have tried to find the underlying commonalities in each of the various diets.
What has become absolutely clear, from my perspective, is that the main culprit of our society’s abysmal and unacceptable health outcomes is the overconsumption of processed foods—namely refined carbohydrates and industrial seed oils.
The human diet remained fairly consistent for thousands upon thousands of years.
It wasn’t until the last half century or so that we witnessed the surge of lifestyle related diseases like heart disease, obesity, and diabetes that continue to wreak havoc on our population today.
And we know from anthropological data, as well as our current research into both modern hunter-gather societies and traditional communities, that these diseases of affluence were (and are) extremely rare among humans that consumed (and continue to consume) unrefined foods, both plant- and animal-based.
If one seeks the common thread in which all these respective diets agree upon, this is it.
Ridding the diet of processed foodstuffs (especially refined carbohydrates and industrial seed oils) will, without question, get individuals ninety percent of the way towards a supremely healthy diet.
Once having done so, where should one pivot in terms of nutrient ratios and choosing between plant and animal products?
As far as I have been able to surmise, the safest bet to superior wellbeing and longevity is ensuring that the bulk of what goes into one’s mouth on a daily basis be comprised of non-starchy vegetables from across the color spectrum, as well as various herbs and spices.
Not only are these foods extremely low in calories and high in both soluble and insoluble fiber, but they also contain loads of vitamins, minerals, and phytonutrients, especially when sourced organically.
While I have listened to the arguments against vegetable consumption, particularly pertaining to antinutrients and digestive stress, I feel that the benefits of including them in one’s diet, for most people, far outweigh any negatives; furthermore, these effects can be mitigated substantially through cooking, as well as by not consuming unnaturally high amounts, as those who juice on a daily basis or solely eat plant foods may tend to do.
Moreover, these antinutrients, when consumed in small doses, may, in fact, actually contribute to one’s health and longevity through a process known as hormesis—which basically states that, for all biological organisms, what doesn’t kill makes stronger (to borrow from Nietzsche, yet again).
The second aspect to focus on, in terms of personal health, is protein consumption.
From their hunger-satiating effects to their muscle- and bone-building capabilities, as well as their metabolically stimulatory effects and ability to help the body repair tissue, oxygenate blood cells, digest food, and regulate hormones—proteins, broken down by the body into amino acids, are rightfully referred to as the “building blocks of life.”
I personally recommend an average of .7 grams per pound of lean body mass (bodyweight minus fat mass) spread out across two to three meals per day; this number is based on research indicating the optimal amount of protein required to sustain metabolic health as well as maintain and build muscle mass.
If you perform the calculation using your personal stats, you’ll find that this recommendation is quite easy to achieve—without supplements—when eating a varied diet consisting of both plant and animal foods.
Adequate protein consumption is another area, by the way, in which all of the respective dietary camps seem to agree upon, in terms relating to increases in overall health and longevity.
In terms of sourcing, however, this is where the disagreement lies, with Vegans and Vegetarians preferring all or most of their protein coming from plant foods, and Carnivore and Paleo advocates relying on only or mostly animal products.
This is a topic in which I tend to side with the latter camps, as it is quite undeniable based on our anthropological data that humans evolved eating meat (which some hypothesize directly resulted in our smaller stomachs and larger brains, compared to other primates); furthermore, modern science has demonstrated that the type of proteins found in animal products are more easily broken down and assimilated by the human body than plant proteins.
Additionally, when it comes to nutrient density, the Carnivores and Paleo enthusiasts are correct to point out that meat in general, and organ meats in particular, are perhaps the most nutrient dense foods on the planet.
Knowing all this, however, has led me to believe that most folks in the industrialized world should eat less meat, not more.
Allow me to explain.
While not all of the plant protein ingested by the human body can be assimilated completely, and even though most plant foods only contain a partial spectrum of essential amino acids, this doesn’t mean that one can’t still derive a substantial amount of useful protein from these foods, especially when combining different plant proteins together, which does create a full amino acid spectrum.
Taking this into consideration, I get most of my daily protein requirements from animal foods (approximately 70% of my total) and fill in the rest with plant foods such as sprouted grains, nuts, seeds, and legumes, which contain enough protein within them (not to mention vitamins, minerals, and gut nourishing fibers) to supplement the animal foods I consume, allowing me to reach my goal.
I utilize this method for a few reasons.
First, while I concur with meat-eating advocates about the essential nature of animal products in the human diet, I disagree about eating them with reckless abandon.
The Rousseauian vision that many in the Carnivore and Paleo camps have of pre-civilized man eating two pounds of meat every day on the African savannah is just plain incorrect.
The human being is a social creature, and even before civilization we evolved in nomadic groups, eating whatever we could get our hands on, plant and animal alike.
For much of our history, humans utilized what is now referred to as “persistence hunting,” meaning that a band of hunter-gatherers would track a wild animal for miles, forcing it to collapse from heat exhaustion before the alpha males of the pack could get close enough for a kill.
Once this was accomplished, the group had to quickly take what they could before other predators homed in on the scent and forced them to abandon their prey; then, after finding a safe place to settle down, they were able to cook what supply they managed to haul off and distribute it amongst the entire tribe.
Furthermore, there were many days in which they failed to kill anything at all, forcing them to either fast or subsist on whatever vegetation they gathered along the way.
While there are examples of human groups that survive solely on animal foods, such as the Inuit of Alaska and the Maasai of Kenya, these are exceptions to the rule, and I question whether these diets of necessity, while definitely preferred over the Standard American Diet, would be conducive to human flourishing or environmental integrity if we all adopted them.
This brings me to my second point, in which I agree with meat-eating proponents on a central claim but disagree on the conclusions derived thereafter.
The central claim is that animal husbandry—particularly that of ruminants such as cattle, bison, sheep, goats, and deer—combined with polyculture farming are much better for the planet than our current industrialized methods, including plant-based monoculture.
This is correct.
Our current conventional methods (including industrial organic)—which take control away from small independently-owned enterprises and centralizes it among a few large corporations—depletes the soil through extractive processes, tilling, chemical fertilizers, and pest controls. These methods not only harm wildlife and destroy natural habitats, but they produce nutrient deficient GMO crops as well.
If one takes seriously the future health of not only our species but that of the planet as well, it becomes quite clear that current conventional farming practices—and even “sustainable” ones—no longer suffice.
Regenerative agriculture is the answer to this problem: a method of farming that builds soil health while sequestering carbon and resisting drought, creating a net positive effect on our environment.
This holistic approach requires no tilling, pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, chemicals, or synthetic fertilizers, and instead relies on herd animals and crop diversity to support healthy ecosystems, as it works with nature to conserve our natural resources and produce nutrient dense food for future generations.
What’s more, this method of farming also exercises extreme care for the animals necessary to both nourish our soil and eventually feed our families.
Vegans and Vegetarians are absolutely right in their stance against the plague that is factory farming, or Concentrated Animal Feedlot Operations (CAFOs). When future generations look back at our era, this will undoubtedly be one of the great moral failures on which they judge us for perpetuating.
This is why I believe that we should rid both our civilization and our collective conscience of this nightmarish, Orwellian practice as fast as possible and transition to a regenerative system, which respects the cycles of life and grants the animals a natural and peaceful existence as well as a pain free death (far better than what they would experience in the wild).
This transition will not be possible, however, if we maintain our current levels of meat consumption; and this is where I disagree with many in the meat-based community as far as the conclusions they draw from their central claim promoting these agricultural methods, which basically justify an unlimited consumption of meat and animal foods, as long as they are sourced in this manner.
Because regenerative farming is a holistic process, it is also a much slower one compared to both the industrial monocropping and CAFOs that currently sustain the majority of our food production.
Even if we utilized all of the available land necessary to completely transition, this would not change the fact that our overall yields of both plant and animal foods would probably drop below our current levels.
The only way to ensure that we have enough food to sustain our entire population would be for us to collectively diversify our diet, eating omnivorously in a manner that is lighter in calories but denser nutritionally—the antithesis of our current lifestyle.
This is the reason why my level of meat consumption has dropped in the last few years.
Not because I think it is bad for me—quite the contrary.
It’s because I know how nutrient dense it is.
And the more nutrient dense the food, the less one needs to consume in order to acquire the full spectrum of micro- and macronutrients embedded within.
This is where the logic of many in the meat-based camp breaks down, in my opinion.
There is a point of diminishing returns in regard to the nutrients derived from our food, and just because something may be good for you, and you enjoy consuming it, doesn’t mean you should eat unlimited quantities—especially when considering that those calories come from living, sentient creatures who deserve our respect and gratitude, and acknowledging the production limitations surrounding regenerative agriculture.
My approach also considers the practicalities of life for most people: since meat sourced humanely and holistically is also more expensive, the only way a person of modest means (such as myself) would be able to afford it regularly would be to limit the amount consumed and fill in the rest with inexpensive plant foods (for example: 4 oz. of grass-fed ground bison combined with half a cup of organic black beans provides a whopping dose of 30 grams of protein for less than 4 dollars).
The aspect of affordability is a major blind spot for many of these utopian and elitist diets—especially at the extremes.
In order to follow them and actually facilitate sustained health improvements throughout a lifetime, one must have the means necessary to not only purchase large quantities of expensive food, but also a considerable number of supplements in order to make up for nutritional gaps—not to mention the regular blood panels necessary to keep track of any long-term deficiencies.
While the meat-eating advocates ignore the high costs of their dietary recommendations, Vegans do the same while also neglecting the toll that relying on plant-based food alternatives and large quantities of supplements takes on our environment (just one example: a breakfast of 2 locally sourced, pasture-raised eggs, half a cup of beans sauteed with vegetables, a slice of sprouted whole grain bread, 1 orange, and a cup of raw goat milk kefir is undoubtedly more environmentally friendly than a protein shake made with factory produced almond milk, refined hemp protein, algae-derived Omega-3, a plant-based multi-vitamin, and “superfruit” sourced from thousands of miles away).
It is only when considering all of these many variables that one realizes that balance and moderation are ultimately the keys to a healthy, sustainable lifestyle—and that one should not have to depend on man-made pills, powders, or real food “alternatives” to achieve and sustain an optimal level of health.
These observations and reflections have manifested themselves in my own diet in a variety of ways throughout the last couple of years.
As previously stated, I have cut my animal flesh consumption in half, down to just 8 ounces per day; about 4-5 ounces of this usually comes from highly nutritious grass-fed ruminants (sometimes pasture-raised chicken), and another 3-4 ounces from fatty, low toxin fish like wild salmon, sardines, mackerel, white anchovies, and herring. The rest of the animal protein in my diet is derived from locally sourced, free-range eggs and (mostly) raw dairy, such as yogurt, kefir, and all varieties of cheeses.
This gets me about 70 grams of protein per day, and, since I need around 100 grams to reach .7 of my lean body mass, I get another 30 grams or so from the many plant foods I consume which also contain modest amounts.
These include legumes, of which I eat about a cup per day (approx. 12-15 grams of protein); sprouted or sourdough whole grain bread, organic rice, and quinoa (another 10-15 grams); and a few nuts and seeds (about 5-10 grams).
The rest of my diet is filled with at least 5 servings of vegetables per day, 1-2 servings of fruit, various herbs and spices, different varieties of mushrooms, dark chocolate, and raw honey.
For cooking, I use avocado oil, olive oil, butter or ghee, lard, beef tallow, or duck fat, and cold-pressed coconut oil.
The only liquids I consume are water, coffee, tea, wine, and beer.
And the only supplement I currently take is Vitamin D3 (5,000 IUs per day).
The only substances I avoid at all costs are processed foods and industrial seed oils.
I also eat out much less than I used to, mostly because I truly enjoy my own cooking, but also because I save money by doing so, which allows me to invest in my dietary practices.
This is working out phenomenally for me, and, at 37 years of age, I am the leanest I have ever been in my life; and I have the strength, endurance, and energy to lead an extremely active lifestyle.
Everyone is different, however, and it is up to the reader to take the same approach I did when it comes to analyzing both the contents of this essay, as well as the many diets mentioned within, and figure out the right balance for their own unique needs and lifestyle.
The main point is to think for oneself, especially when it comes to deciding what goes into one’s body and the systemic ramifications that individual choices have on the economy and environment.
People all around the world, especially in the so-called “Blue Zones,” achieve optimal levels of health well into old age using a variety of dietary customs: some populations rely mostly on vegetarian foods, such as the Seventh Day Adventists of Loma Linda, California; and others, like those living on the island of Sardinia, incorporate healthy amounts of animal products, such as dairy, fish, and meat.
Where modern society seems to have strayed is in its various production methods, and so, those arguing solely in the realm of macronutrients or plant versus animal foods miss the mark completely, as far as I’m concerned.
It’s important to keep this in mind before ridding your diet of an entire food group.
For instance, for the last 12,000 years, humans consumed fermented bread that was made using sprouted whole grains, so that the tough-to-digest wheat and the nutrients locked within could be more easily assimilated by the human body.
Throughout that same time span, dairy was consumed raw and fermented as well, making it a living, nutrient-rich food that was much more easily tolerated by our systems than our current pasteurized and mass-produced milk products.
The acquisition of animal flesh was not only exhausting physically but also spiritually, as it required a direct relationship with the animal being slaughtered, which grounded a whole community in the sacredness of the life cycle; furthermore, the animals were usually wild, or at least raised slowly, on a natural diet—definitely not on a feedlot with the use of hormones and antibiotics—and the meat provided much higher levels of protein, vitamins, minerals, and essential fatty acids per ounce, allowing one to reach their daily fill on lesser amounts.
Instead of viewing food through the lens of “good” and “bad,” I recommend the categories “natural” and “unnatural.”
This disposition steers one away from reducing food down to its component parts and toward analyzing one’s sustenance holistically, based on how long it has been in the human diet and how it has been traditionally prepared and eaten.
For example, instead of weighing the merits of an expensive “health” bar versus an affordable apple based solely on calories, proteins, and carbohydrates, an individual using this approach would choose the apple simply based on it being a natural food with minimal processing.
This approach calibrates one’s mind to hold a healthy skepticism toward new foods in the human diet, regardless of how “healthy” the so-called “experts” tout them to be.
It also allows for the healthy and regular enjoyment of many of the foods that are currently banned by many in the “health and fitness” community.
For instance, if you enjoy eating bread regularly (as I do), just invest in either sprouted and/or sourdough varieties, which I’m sure you can find at a nearby grocery store or local artisanal bakery.
If you enjoy dairy foods (as I do), try your best to consume organic, non-homogenized sources that are either fermented or cultured, such as yogurt, kefir, and aged cheeses—and, whenever possible, consume them raw (stores like Whole Foods have a variety of raw cheeses available; and for milks, yogurts, and cream, I recommend searching for a local farm in your area that carries these products).
If you enjoy not just the taste of meat but how you look, feel, and perform when it’s a part of your diet (as I do); but you are also concerned about how it’s produced across our society (as I am): invest your money in companies sourcing it responsibly, using regenerative methods, and adjust your portion size according to both your budget and the minimum amount your body needs to thrive.
I’ve been obsessed with health and nutrition since I was a 12-year-old boy who decided he needed to lose weight in order to feel better about himself and improve his athletic abilities.
In the last twenty-plus years, I have spent a considerable amount of time studying and experimenting with various philosophies and dietary habits.
I’ve realized that much of what is promoted as “healthy” in our culture, is not, in fact, very healthy at all.
Extreme dieting, an over-reliance on supplementation, and a desire to make everything as convenient as possible has led us down a terrible path, one that is making us all not just unhealthier by every single metric—mentally, physically, and spiritually—but also ceding control of our food systems to giant corporations, harming our ecosystems and individual sovereignty in the process.
My studies—across all subjects—have led me to value simplicity in all things.
A simple, natural diet is the one thing that healthy populations all around the world share in common, regardless of the ratio of plant to animal foods.
There are no “bad” foods because, as it turns out, all the “bad” foods aren’t really foods at all, but food-like substances engineered by scientists in the last half century to yield a long shelf life and an abundance of calories.
High-fructose corn syrup is not food.
Seed oils are not food.
Refined GMO wheat, corn, and soy are not food.
Factory farmed meat from tortured, sickly, and drugged-up animals is not food.
Supplements are not food.
Food “alternatives” are not food.
There are a lot of things degrading our health in modern society.
However, food—real food—is not one of them.
Notes:
About once per week, my wife and I will treat ourselves and share a 10- to 12-ounce grass-fed steak for dinner, which I usually purchase at my local Whole Foods. The rest of the week we subsist on different ground blends of elk, venison, wild boar, and bison, which I purchase online from Force of Nature, a company committed to regenerative farming and ethically raised meat.
For more information on regenerative farming, I recommend the documentary Sacred Cow: The Nutritional, Environmental and Ethical Case for Better Meat, available for rent on Amazon Prime and YouTube.
For tinned low-toxin fish, I recommend the white anchovies and mackerel fillets from Wild Planet; the petite sardines and kipper fillets from Bar Harbor Foods; and the sockeye salmon from Whole Foods’ 365.
For healthy bread consumption, any sprouted variety will suffice (such as the brand Ezekiel, which can be found the frozen aisle of most grocery stores), and if you live near a Whole Foods, they make their own artisanal bread daily using unbromated whole grain flour and no artificial ingredients or seed oils.
If you are in the Miami area and looking to source some organic raw dairy products, check out Marando Farms and Ranch, in Davie, Fl.
Lastly, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention a few books that, in one way or another, inspired the thoughts expressed in this essay: The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals, by Michael Pollan; Antifragile: Things That Gain From Disorder, by Nassim Nicholas Taleb; Born To Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen, by Christopher McDougall; A Hunter Gatherer’s Guide to the 21st Century: Evolution and the Challenges of Modern Life, by Heather Heying and Bret Weinstein; and The Unsettling of America: Culture and Agriculture, by Wendell Berry.