In 2003, Morgan Spurlock set out to eat nothing but McDonald’s food for thirty days, and he brought along a film crew to document the effects. He ate three square a day, each and every one at a McDonald’s restaurant. He ate every item on the chain’s menu at least once, and, if they asked him if he wanted to “supersize” the meal (upgrade the fries and drinks to the largest possible). He always said yes.
Over the course of each day, he consumed an average 5,000 kcal per day during the experiment, which is about double what a healthy adult of his size and age should eat. As a result, the then-32-year-old Spurlock gained 11.1 kilograms (24 lb) in 30 days. Other effects included a 13 percent body mass increase, his cholesterol climbed, and he experienced mood swings, sexual dysfunction, and fat accumulation in his liver. It took Spurlock fourteen months to lose all the weight gained from his experiment.
Eating three meals a day at McDonald’s had a drastic effect on Spurlock’s physical and psychological health and well-being.
And if you’d seen that film, you’d be left with a fairly strong indication that Fast Food is bad, and that only eating fat food will make you fat. Seems a logical, factual, even scientific based argument, backed up with numbers about how much Spurlock gained and how his cholesterol spiked to 230 mg/dL (6.0 mmol/L).
And that’s the takeaway most people took away. (Get it? Take away? Because you can get take away at McDonald’s…you know what? Never mind.)
Most, but not all.
One of those people who thought that Spurlock’s doc was a little one sided was a fellow named Tom Naughton.
He had issues with a whole bunch of the ideas presented in Supersize Me. For instance, Spurlock argues that Fast Food is addicting, yet, the day after the documentary aired, Spurlock was able to drop everything and go to a vegan diet.
So Naughton set out with a different premise. That it is not fast food itself, but excessive calories that cause weight gain. Like Spurlock, Naughton goes on an all-fast-food diet, mainly eating food from McDonald’s.
But instead of eating willy nilly, he ate a calorie and carbohydrate restricted diet, keeping calories to 2000 and carbs to around 100 grams a day. Notably, he did not limit the amount of fat he ingests, which was one of Spurlock’s issues with McDonald’s.
And, unlike Spurlock, he decides to walk six nights a week, up from his normal three.
Also unlike Spurlock, he lost 12 pounds.
Even the basic premise of Spurlock’s “5000 calories a day” is questionable, argues Naughton in his film, as a large Big Mac meal weighs in at 1450 calories, and was one of the most calorically rich foods McDonald’s offered at the time Spurlock made the documentary.
Even if Spurlock ate a Big Mac with large fries and a Coke for every meal, he’d still fall about 550 calories per day short of the 5000 calories per day he said he ate. He’d have to toss in a hot apple pie at every meal to make up those calories. Meanwhile, according to Supersize Me, Spurlock only supersized his meals nine times out of all the times he ate at McDonald’s.
Naughton attempted to contact Spurlock to obtain his food log, but Spurlock (who makes a huge deal in his documentary about McDonald’s never calling him back) never called him back.
Over in Sweden, researchers at the University of Linkoping offered to feed college students 6000 calories a day for a month so that they could observe what happened to them. After a month, nobody had liver or cholesterol troubles. Most of the students felt tired, but none of them reported having mood swings or sexual dysfunction issues that Spurlock said he suffered from.
The trouble is, we interpret the world in much the same way as Spurlock did. We have a sample size of one, which we spin out to everyone. Have you heard any of these arguments recently: “I didn’t get the vaccine, and I haven’t got Covid.” “I got the vaccine and I haven’t got Covid.” “I got Covid, and I survived. I don’t see what the fuss is about.” “I drive 120 kph to Dawson five days a week and I’ve never had an accident.” “I smoke a pack a day and never have had any health problems.” “I’ve never smoked a cigarette, and never had lung cancer.” “It’s -35 out today, global warming is a hoax.” “ROUSes? I don’t think they exist.”
We are wired to interpret the world through our eyes. It’s kinda hard to see it any other way.
Take for instance, an example I used earlier. “It’s -35 out today, global warming is a hoax.”
Someone posted a similar sentiment on Facebook two years ago.
You may remember that, after months of average, or above average temperatures, the mercury plunged, with highs barely climbing above -30 for a good week in January.
But despite the fact that the winter up until that point had been average or above average temperatures, someone felt the need to point out that this meant that climate change was a hoax, that global warming was a lie.
At the same time, an entire continent was burning. Down in Australia, fires—which had started in August and burned through to March 2020—were raging, consuming an estimated 18.6 million hectares or 186,000 square kilometres. 5,900 buildings, including 2,779 homes were destroyed and 34 people died. But here, people were taking their localized experiences and spinning it out to global comments. This is what is called availability bias. We judge ourselves—and others—through these filters of our own perception and reach faulty conclusions.
We have a limited set of facts at hand, then make universal assumptions about the way the world works, sweeping proclamations on the rightness of our beliefs and judge others’ actions, attitudes and beliefs based on a sample size of one.
Trent is the publisher of Tumbler RidgeLines.
