"Give the baby an extra dollop of pesticide-sprayed carrots"

So, I was reading the other day about how “the health benefits” of organic foods are being called into question. It was written by a guy called Harry Wallop and was a curious piece, strangely triumphal. The writer joyfully admitted that he would lie to his wife about there being no organic milk left at the shop so he could score the small victory of buying non-organic.  His ‘little protest’ as he put it against the ‘tyranny’ of expensive organic food, sounding just like an obnoxious little boy scoring one over on a parent.

He went on to trumpet about how the ‘latest research’ has ‘concluded’ that there is no clear evidence of any added health benefit to organic food.  But, reading the actual report, that’s not entirely true. 

Yes, organic and non-organic apples, for example, will contain exactly the same phytonutrients.  Some say the organic apple will taste better – I’ve never been quite convinced about that.  It’s what the organic apple doesn’t have that interest me. And it’s what the growing of the organic apple isn’t doing to the environment that interests me.  It's the pesticide bit that interests me. And the writers of the report themselves admit that ‘consumption of organic foods can reduce the risk of pesticide exposure.’

If you can't go all organic...

Organic food, they go on to say, has a 30 percent lower risk of pesticide contamination than conventional fruits and vegetables.  A third less?  Given that ‘Laboratory studies show that pesticides can cause health problems, such as birth defects, nerve damage, cancer and other effects that might occur over a long period of time’ (US Environmental Protection Agency, my italics) then, hell yeah, I’d like to ingest a third less of them. 

And, talking about those italics, what the papers have also neglected to mention is that the meta-analysis was not exactly dealing with long-term research. The research team admit: ‘There were no long-term studies of health outcomes of people consuming organic versus conventionally produced food: the duration of the studies involving human subjects ranged from two days (!!!) to two years.’ (exclamation points my addition). 

If you weed out (sorry) the long-term studies, the picture is less clear-cut. Just to take one example, a long-term study from the Netherlands found that children who consumed organic dairy products had a 36 percent lower risk of eczema by the time they turned two.  But, hey, we all know you can skew statistics any which way you want, right?

You could argue it's better than it was.  Farmers now use one third less chemicals than they did thirty years ago.  Some are now banned throughout the EU but they are still used in some countries around the world – and, of course, few of us buy totally locally, do we?  Let’s have a quick look (by the way, this info isn’t coming from some militant green site, but from the UK Environmental Agency and the Health and Safety Executive in the UK).

*  Lindane – banned throughout the EU because of links to breast and other cancers and fertility problems.

       * Vinclozalin – used in the UK and worldwide - concerns that it may disrupt hormone systems and affect reproduction.

·       *  Carbendazim – most commonly used fungicide in the UK, known to disrupt hormone systems – and has been shown to damage the development of mammals in the womb.

·         * DDT – banned in the UK and worldwide since 2001 but still used in some developing countries. Linked to cancer and male infertility. High levels can develop in fatty foods such as meat and dairy products.

·         * Organophosphates – don’t let the organo bit throw you off – these are a large group of chemicals that form the basis of many insecticides and herbicides and which can pass into the body via food. They irreversibly block an enzyme that is essential to correct nerve function. Even at low levels, they can affect the brain development of fetuses and young children.  Also linked to excessive tiredness, headaches, limb pains, disturbed sleep, poor concentration, mood changes and suicidal thoughts.  Nice huh? The EPA banned most residential uses of these in 2001 but they’re still used in agriculture on fruit and vegetable crops. 

Some scientists believe pesticide exposure while in the womb may be to blame for the huge increase in behavioral disorders amongst children, but the evidence is hard to find as researchers admit that subtle harm done to the brain early in life may not become evident until much later.  What is pretty clear is that pesticides can weaken the immune system and that exposure while in the womb could make people more vulnerable to their effects as adults.  As the BBC reported, ‘The main health fear associated with pesticides is not that someone will eat a sprayed apple and get cancer, but that residues will build up over the years and cause disease to develop slowly.’

And yup, that is my concern.  It seems to be the concern of many parents too.  Wallop's piece in the paper went on to say that, while sales of organic food generally are sliding (presumably because of cost – it’s tough enough to buy normal food nowadays), the one area of the market that is booming is in baby food (up seven percent last year).  

He concluded his piece by saying. ‘I for one feel rather resentful that I should fork out for organic just because it might be a ‘lower risk’. Tomorrow the baby is going to get an extra dollop of pesticide-sprayed carrots.’

Nice, real nice, Wallop. Save that clipping for your child’s scrapbook.

But seriously, what do you do?  What can you do?  Can we, on a macro level, stop our planet and our food being contaminated by chemicals? It’s like the argument I had on FB the other day about GM food.  Which went along the lines of ‘it’s all very well and good for people in developed countries who have the luxury of nibbling namby pampy organics and biodynamics but that’s stuffing it to the developing world.’ Is it? Isn’t it really about a radical shift in the way we eat, about what we eat and don’t eat? 

On a micro level, I guess I would say (and you might find this ironic) probably the best thing to do is not to  stress too much.  I figure it’s as toxic to panic about every potential pollutant you put in your mouth as it is to mainline pesticides. Though if you're planning a baby or are pregnant, I reckon I'd err on the side of caution. And (just saying) my son ate solely organic food up until he went to school.

Just before I posted this, I thought I'd check and see what the general advice is...and found this from the BBC.

What can you do?

If you are worried about possible exposure of you or your family to pesticides, you may want to:

• Only choose foods that have been grown under organic or pesticide–free conditions. Look for the labels in your supermarket such as those from the Soil Association or talk to your local supplier.
• Grow your own vegetables (presumably without chemicals - my aside).
• Check products in your household and garden - the websites of the UK Environment Agency and the Health and Safety Executive are a good source of information.

Near death experiences, cancer and drinking champagne

‘You should read this,’ said Hilary.  We were sitting on the beach (yeah, yeah, in Greece) watching the waves.  I looked at the book.  Dying to be Me by Anita Moorjani.  My first thought was that I didn’t like the cover (yeah, I’m shallow like that but really - it IS foul, isn't it?).  Then I read the subtitle: ‘My Journey from Cancer, to Near Death to True Healing’ and my second thought was ‘Eeek, no way.’

I have a pathological dislike of cancer. Not because I dwell on getting it myself particularly.  It’s probably a hangover from my father dying of it…maybe more of a habit now than anything else.  But still. 

And then, on the day I was leaving, I talked to Hilary again.  One of those conversations where, for every word spoken, another fifty were unspoken but the meaning caught.  It was a good talk/nottalk and, at the end, she said it again.  ‘You should read this.’  I sighed.   

Anita Moorjani was diagnosed with cancer in April 2002.  In 2006, she was rushed to hospital as an emergency, as a terminal case. Her organs were on the verge of shutting down and, to cut a long story short, she went into a coma and did all the usual NDE stuff – watching what was going on; going off to the place of unconditional Love; realising being dead would be totally cool; being given the choice and deciding to come back to life.  But she didn’t just come back – she came back healed, to the total stunned amazement of all the medics.

I checked her out with my sceptical cap firmly on but her story is pretty watertight and firmly backed by oncologists.  It was a spontaneous and downright miraculous recovery.  Which is great, of course, for her and her family…

But…for the rest of us?  What did she discover, what did she discover?  This is what I found really interesting – as often it goes directly against a lot of the perceived wisdom in handling cancer – and other diseases.

She felt that illness is often caused by suppression (and I have long had a suspicion about that link with cancer in particular):  “When we judge some of our emotions as being negative and try to deny them, we’re suppressing part of who we are.  This creates a blockage within us and prevents us from expressing the fullness of our magnificence. It’s about not being afraid to feel anxiety, sadness or fear, rather than suppressing everything until those emotions pass. It’s about allowing myself to be true to who I am.’

She says that she used to be terrified of negative emotions because she feared they would attract negativity into her life. “It’s about allowing what I’m actually feeling, rather than fighting against it. The very act of permitting without judgment is an act of self-love. This act of kindness towards myself goes much further in creating a joyful life than falsely pretending to feel optimistic.”

She felt that her cancer was her own unexpressed power and energy, turning inwards against her body, rather than outward.  “I knew it wasn’t a punishment or anything like that. It was just my own life force expressing it as cancer because I didn’t allow it to manifest as the magnificent powerful force of Anita.’

She discovered that there is no condemnation in the ‘other realm’ because there is nothing to condemn – we are all pure consciousness.  “I believe that people who hurt others only do so out of their own pain and their feelings of limitation and separation.  In fact they need the most compassion – not judgment and further suffering in the afterlife… I realized in the NDE state that it was myself I hadn’t forgiven, not other people.’

She realized that there really is no time.  “In the NDE state, I realized that every moment in all our lives, past, present, future, known, unknown, and unknowable – exist simultaneously.’ And that we can effectively alter our past by the moment-to-moment choices we make…  “I feel that the present moment is the only point in time we have to create our reality.” 

She learned that religion is immaterial.  “It doesn’t matter whether you believe in Jesus, Buddha, Shiva, Allah, or none of the above. What matters is how you feel about yourself, right here and right now.”

She found that there is no one right diet, one right way to eat, drink, live, be.  “I used to be paranoid about what I ate. I thought everything caused cancer.  I used to eat very healthfully, but I did so out of fear. Now I eat what I’m drawn to. I enjoy chocolate and a good wine or champagne from time to time.  I think that’s it more important to be happy than anything else.  It’s no fun eating all the so-called right foods out of fear of getting sick and being miserable about it.”  

Above all, she says, we should try to be kind – to ourselves.  “We always attract the perfect results, and like calls to like. So the kinder I am to myself, the more outward events will reflect that. The harder and more judgmental I am toward myself, the more my situation will match it. The universe always proves me right in my opinion of myself.”

Bottom line?  “Don’t take yourself or life too seriously. If I ever had to create a set of tenets for a spiritual path to healing, number one on my list would be to make sure to laugh as often as possible throughout every single day – and preferably laugh at myself. This would be hands down over and above any form of meditation, prayer, chanting, or diet reform.”

snob boy

December 2006


God I love Exmoor! Sometimes you get so used to a place you forget to look around you. But this morning, taking James to the bus, everything seemed very lovely somehow. The ponies were chomping at the side of the road on the moor, and the Barle was high and racing in choppy waves. Even the pheasants didn’t get on my nerves today. Watching them run, head-down, across the road, it’s an easy jump to see how birds were descended from dinosaurs.

And, OK, this sounds a bit goody two-shoes (not my usual state of play) but I did feel grateful for all we’ve got. OK, so we can’t sell our house. OK, so we’re slipping further towards penury with every day. OK, we can’t afford fancy holidays or smart clothes. But, by heck, we’re alive and (relatively) healthy and living in a truly stunning part of the world.

I visited my neighbour (half a mile down the road) yesterday and that helped me put life in perspective too. Her mother is in hospital, having her second round of surgery for cancer. She’s got three children, all of whom have been off school for various health reasons this term. And her husband isn’t that great either. They’re broke and have the in-laws from hell but is she moaning? No way. She’s as bright as a button and welcomed me in for a cup of a tea and a chat.

Mind you, I find being hard up very tough. Particularly when it comes to sartorial matters. Last year Adrian (being the archetypal skinflint) bought the most truly disgusting Christmas cards ever – you know the kind of thing – thin paper with foul illustrations of poinsettias. They were relegated to the bottom of the Christmas box but this year I thought, waste not, want not – and gave them to James for his school friends. He looked a bit doubtful but put a brave face on it and wrote out his notes.
Then disaster struck. ‘Tina doesn’t like her card. I’ve got to do her a new one.’
What? Ungrateful little wretch. Much harrumphing and tutting and James shrugged and said it didn’t matter.
Yesterday he got in the car and sighed deeply. ‘She’s crying about it now.’ What? Over a single rotten Christmas card? But I did feel a twinge of guilt – I was the mother who gave her son such lousy cards that they made eight-year old girls cry. Heck, what next?

Well, I’m ashamed to say it does get worse. We took James bowling with some friends. This was the first time we were to meet his ‘best friend’ from school and there were high expectations. Well, we’d barely got going when we heard from the back: ‘We’ve got a really huge house you know. And a heated swimming pool. And a tennis court. And …and ….and ‘
Adrian and I exchanged looks. OK, it was petty, but I couldn’t help myself.
‘Gosh, that’s nice,’ I replied. ‘We’re really really really poor. We don’t live in a house actually; we live in a large box. Well, not that big a box really. But we call it home.’
‘No you don’t…’ muttered nice friend, ‘You live in a really nice house.’
I turned round and shot him a surreptitious wink.
‘But you’ve got a car,’ said snob boy triumphantly.
‘Oh no,’ I replied airily, ‘We just borrowed this. We’ve got a bicycle though – we take it in turns to ride it.’
Snob boy looked puzzled and frowned. He knew something was going on but wasn’t quite sure what.

Looking back I felt a bit bad. ‘You didn’t like him, did you?’ said James. Heck, was it that obvious?
‘No, James, that’s not quite true. I’m sure he's a very nice boy but I didn’t like the way he boasted. I thought that was very rude.’
James nodded. ‘He does boast a lot.’

But then, of course, it’s not his fault – it’s the parents. Out here you meet people of all sorts – the filthy rich and the dirt poor (and every variation inbetween). We’ve always slammed it into James that you don’t ever judge anyone on where they live or what they do or how big their car is. That’s the way the countryside works. It’s interesting really, as you get to meet a much broader slice of society than you’d ever meet in the city. But some people just don’t get it. They still have to do the horrible one-upmanship bit. Yuk.