Free A Big Fat Crisis by Deborah Cohen Page B

unaffordable, and it would have also defeatedthe purpose of moving to a rural area, which was to avoid a lot of asphalt and cement.
    Not only are there multiple permits, but the specialists checking all the details of the building process also seem to have obsessive-compulsive disorder. We have had to go back and forth multiple times with multiple departments to specify everything on the plans. We have to state the location of all the valves and pipes and indicate each pipe’s diameter. We have to locate a hydrant not less than a hundred feet from the house. We have to specify the depth of the foundation and the height of the electric panel. And the land around the house has to have at least a 2 percent slope away from the house for proper drainage.
    What is the public health impact of such rigid, extensive, and meticulously specified building code regulations? A poor-quality house would pose a danger to relatively few people—just my husband, any guests we might have, and me. So much attention to such a small project hardly seems worthwhile (except that it appears that our permit fees are the way government bureaucrats get paid).
    Although there are some quirky requirements that appear not to make sense and the extra cost of the permits and inspections is quite burdensome, the truth is that I very much appreciate that the county is checking to make sure my new home will be sound. I have no expertise and would otherwise have to rely on the builder. Having someone else’s eyes on the plans increases my confidence that I am making a good investment in a house that will be able to withstand earthquakes, floods, and other problems that may arise.
    Compare the massive amount of regulation I face to build a small bungalow with minimal impact to the minimal regulation of food outlets like restaurants and grocery stores and their massive impact on dietary intake. The typical fast food outlet may serve more than 1,500 people every day. 3 A supermarket might serve a few thousand customers every day. As we have seen, the design of restaurants and markets and how they present and promote food strongly influence what people eat. We already have a huge infrastructure of “food police,” but they currently focus only on food safety and the prevention of infectious diseases like E. coli and salmonella. These “food police” inspect factories, supermarkets, and restaurants and make sure that the food servedis prepared and stored hygienically, and that appropriate equipment is available and functioning.
    If there is any lapse and anyone gets sick, the public screams, “Why isn’t the government doing even more to protect the food supply?” No one is clamoring to eliminate food policing. We do not tolerate leniency when an outlet sells food that threatens the lives of its customers with deadly viruses or bacteria. We demand that the business be shut down immediately.
    Our system works fairly well: outbreaks of deadly food-borne diseases are uncommon, and infectious diseases from unclean food are no longer in the top ten causes of death in the United States. In 1900 enteritis and diarrhea were grouped as the third major cause of death, after pneumonia and tuberculosis. Today, an estimated three thousand Americans die annually from a food-borne disease—but that is a drop in the bucket compared to the estimated four hundred thousand who die annually from poor diets and lack of physical activity. 4
    One argument for protecting people from food-borne infectious disease rather than from chronic diseases is that people cannot easily tell whether food is contaminated with viruses and bacteria. Customers may have no way to protect themselves from bacteria, but in theory they should be able to avoid unhealthy foods.
    Yet under the current conditions, most people cannot make their short-term choices conform to their long-term goals. Regulating food outlets would make achieving one’s optimal weight within reach for the average person. Many