Carnivore Diet

THE INTREPID FOOD CRUSADER REFORMERS ARE A HARD-DYING LOT.  Among the most persistent of the species is the dietary zealot. The man who conceives it to be his sacred mission to improve the eating or drinking habits of his fellow-beings will not accept defeat. Beaten at one end of the line, he immediately returns to the assault at the other. 

A couple of years ago an experiment was conducted in New York City for the purpose of testing the effects of an all-meat diet on the human system under conditions as found in the temperate zone. The laboratory material was the explorers Stefansson and Andersen, who had lived in the Arctics for long periods on the food of the native Eskimos, which is practically nothing but meat, and thrived on it. After a year’s time, during which the twain were subjected to rigid scientific control, the most painstaking examination failed to reveal the faintest trace of injury, physical or mental. 

Naturally, this did not “set well” with our food faddists. A number of alibis were at once forthcoming: The two men were exceptional specimens, of extraordinary toughness, inured to hardships and all manner of dietary irregularities; the period of trial had not been nearly long enough; anyway, what apparently had proved harmless in their case would not do at all for the average individual; etc., etc. 

To this chorus of denunciation is now added a note that we have not heard before. In Glendale, near Los Angeles, is a sanitarium which publishes a little magazine called Glendale Sanitarium Health Exponent, “devoted to the interests of better and finer living,” as stated on the title-page. The “summer number” of this periodical contains an article from the pen of P. Martin Keller, M.D., entitled “Does an Exclusive Meat Diet Insure Health?” In this we read: 

Recently in Los Angeles there could be found on the various large bill-posting boards the following statement: “Meat is the only single food which will sustain life for an unlimited time.” This, I suppose, was placed on the boards by the meat interests as a result of recent experiments of Dr. Lieb’s. He took as subjects Stefansson and Andersen, who have had experiences in the Arctic region. 

But, says the author, the two gentlemen “did not live entirely on a meat diet—they lived chiefly on fat (!): One-half pound of tallow and a few ounces of meat was their daily ration.” Stefansson, who had been placed on “an exclusive meat diet,” was compelled to give it up after a while and mix it with fat, as the lean ‘meat created “digestive disturbances.” Consequently, argues the writer, the contention that “an exclusive meat diet” insures health was not proved. 

Furthermore, Dr. Keller goes on, examinations have shown that the “intestinal contents of animals that live almost exclusively upon raw meat” harbor “large quantities of putrefactive bacteria” which, injected into guinea-pigs, kill. Not only that, but “a purely meat diet increases the work upon the heart.” This has been demonstrated by experiments on—cats. After a meal of meat, there was a rise in the rate of feline heart-beats “above the fasting level.” 

Just what it is sought to prove by this sort of stuff is not clear. Is it the doctor’s thesis that man, in order to insure health and long life, must not forget to mix his fat with his lean? Or that lions and tigers could get rid of the obnoxious bacteria which inhabit their intestines by having their meat well cooked? Or that cats do not know what is good for them, and could reduce their pulse-rate to the “fasting level,” thus insuring their “better and finer living,” by turning vegetarians? 

Effusions such as these could be ignored, or laughed out of court, were it not for the fact that too many people, in matters of diet, are in the habit of listening to, and being influenced by, anything, no matter how absurd or easily refutable, put out by quasi-experts in the name of science—especially if these have an M.D. handle to their names. 

It should not need restatement that no sane person has ever recommended a diet for human beings consisting wholly of raw meat, lean meat, meat mixed with fat, or meat in any other shape or combination. To intimate that stockmen, or anybody else connected with the “meat interests,” hold an exclusive meat diet to be a guarantee of good health is too absurd for a moment’s consideration. To ordinary logic the food fanatic seems as impervious as he is devoid of a sense of fair play. Either he concocts his arguments out of thin air, or he attempts to twist a laboratory demonstration of an isolated phenomenon into a law of universal application. Having set up a dummy to shoot at, nothing is too grotesque to serve as pellets for his little popgun. 

What live-stock men do stress is that meat, in the cold and temperate zones, is a natural, wholesome, and necessary food for man; that for the average healthy, active, human being, meat in even liberal quantities is an indispensable part of the daily diet, if full efficiency is to be maintained; that, under normal conditions, an ideal menu is one in which dairy products, vegetables, and fruits, in the right proportions (which everybody must determine for himself accord- ing to his individual needs) are grouped around meat as the central item; that, as an appetizing, tissue- building, strength-imparting food, meat has no equal; that the meat-eating nations throughout the centuries have been the nations of achievement; that among men noted for their accomplishments in war and peace, in art and science, in literature and music, the great majority in all ages have been meat-eaters; that in sanatoria for those of depleted systems—for those, for example, suffering from tuberculosis, diabetes, anemia, and other insidious diseases—chief reliance is placed in meat, meat and gland extracts, and other foods of high protein content, as an aid in building up the patient’s strength; that physicians, with few exceptions, testify to the faith that is in them by being generous partakers of meat themselves. 

These are facts, easily verifiable. But if further proof is needed of the effect of a meat diet, as compared with one of nothing but fruit and vegetables, visit a convention of vegetarians, or go to one of their restaurants, and then attend a meeting of stockmen, or sit down with a bunch of cow-punchers around the chuck-wagon, and notice the difference! 

Dr. Keller ends his discourse by painting a blood-curdling picture of the procession of innocent animals marching to the shambles to satisfy man’s cannibal appetite for flesh. The answer to this is that the sacrifice of lower forms in the interest of higher has always been, and always will be, a concomitant of organic life. As long as the destruction is not wanton, purposeless, unnecessarily painful, or likely to exterminate beneficial species, it is justifiable. Would the doctor extend his protecting hand of fellowship to the fly that drags its filthy legs over his Shredded Wheat biscuit, to the cockroach that devours his cracker, or to the mosquito that sucks his bacterium-free vegetarian blood? In his opinion, would it be less reprehensible to turn our herds of cattle out to die of cold or starvation, or to permit them to propagate their kind without check, until their numbers multiplied to such an extent as to spell wreck and ruin for every grain-and truck-farmer in the land? In that case, where would our vegetarians be?

by J. B. Orr and J. L. Gilks

 - IV.-SUMMARY OF RESULTS. Preliminary observations and a review of existing information suggested that disease is more prevalent amongst native races than is generally supposed, and indicated that the incidence of certain diseases might be correlated with diet. A survey of two tribes, the Masai and Akikuyu, showed that the diet of the former consisted to a large extent of milk, meat and raw blood, and that of the latter mainly of cereals, roots and fruits, the bulk of the diet being cereals. The outstanding points of difference in chemical composition of the two diets were that the Masai have a relatively very high intake of protein, fat and calcium, while the Kikuyu have a high intake of carbohydrate and a low one of calcium. Differences were found in the dietary customs between men and women in both tribes, the diets of the females approaching in each case to the mean between the diets of the males. Physical measurements showed that the full-grown Masai male is on an average, 5 inches taller and 23 lb. heavier than the full- grown male Kikuyu, and his muscular strength, as determined by the dynamometer, is 50 per cent. greater. Marked differences were found in the incidence of disease in the two tribes, bony deformities, dental caries and anaemia, pulmonary conditions and tropical ulcer being much more prevalent amongst the Akikuyu. On the other hand, intestinal stasis and rheumatoid arthritis were more common amongst the Masai. Analyses showed that routine Hospital and Prison diets are markedly deficient in calcium, the average daily intake being only about 0.3 gm. Ca, as compared with the assessed requirement of about 1 gm. Examination of the blood of Kikuyu and other natives on a similar dietary showed that the concentration of calcium was lower than the European standard, the average of 90 cases, prisoners and farm labourers (not pathological) being 9.4 mg. per 100 c.c. serum, as compared with 10-0 to 10.5 mg. in Europeans at home, and 11.4 mg. in 13 Europeans in Kenya. The range of variation in blood calcium was wide, from 7.3 mg. to 11.2 mg., the highest figure being below the mean for Europeans in Kenya. -

It would be an interesting study to correlate diet and stature in different countries, to ascertain whether any correlation exists between the quality of the diet and mean adult stature. There are differences in the incidence of disease in the two tribes, and one of the tribes, the Akikuyu, show abnormalities in the composition of the blood. The diet of this tribe is very rich in carbohydrate, relatively rich in phosphorus, but deficient in calcium. Experimental data have been brought forward to lend support to the suggestion that deficiencies in the diet, abnormal composition of the blood and reduced susceptibility to certain diseases which have been noted in this tribe, may be correlated. The possibility that diet may influence the susceptibility to certain infectious diseases raises one of the most important problems in nutritional research. With regard to the bearing of the results of the investigation on conditions in Kenya, we are probably justified in concluding that the diet commonly in use amongst the Akikuyu and other tribes of similar customs is badly balanced, being too rich in carbohydrate and deficient in calcium. It is probably deficient also in other substances required as constructive material for growth, and in certain of the vitamins. On the other hand, the Masai, with a diet at the opposite extreme, possibly have too little vegetable food rich in carbohydrate and cellulose. Improvement might be brought about by increasing the use of green vegetables by both tribes, and of milk by the Akikuyu. The problem is therefore one which concerns not only medical and public health, but also agricultural authorities. A general improvement of agriculture and animal husbandry amongst the Akikuyu will almost certainly be accompanied by an improvement in the health and working capacity of the natives themselves. This problem is not confined to Kenya. It appears to exist in many different areas in our tropical dependencies. It may be judged from the introductory statements in the early part of this report that the loss of health and efficiency attributable to deficient diet is, therefore, of considerable economic importance.

Sixty-five years ago I sold my thriving lawyer's practice in Norway and made for the Canadian wilderness of the Northwest Territories. For four years (1926—30) I lived as a trapper in the isolated region north-east of Great Slave Lake. I had decided to realize a dream that had always been with me: a primitive life in northern, practically uncharted wilds, in a region where the lives of the natives still largely followed their ancient traditions. 

The wilderness north-east of Great Slave Lake proved to be what' I had been looking for. After a long voyage by canoe, my partner Hjalmar Dale and I lit upon an enormous stretch of land with forests and tundras, extending to the Arctic Ocean in the north. A few groups of Indians, of Chipewyan stock, had their hunting grounds here. They were known as the Caribou-Eaters, a name they had received because their lives were utterly dependent on the caribou. At that time there were still great numbers - probably several hundred thousands — of caribou in the Northwest Territories. But the migrations of the caribou herds are mysterious. The Indians have a saying: "They are like ghosts; they come from nowhere, fill up all the land, then disappear." When thousands of these animals poured over the land, the Indians and the few white trappers there were filled with joy; when the animals disappeared, hunger and famine followed in their wake — at times, people starved to death. 

These were years of many long dog-sled journeys through forests and over the Barrens — they took me to the upper Thelon River and to other uncharted regions. The trappers were convinced that there were more wolves, more white foxes, in the far-off distances on the blue horizon, that it was there that the greatest riches were to be found. 

We lived off the land. Practically all of the caribou was eaten: meat, fat, marrow, brain, liver, kidneys, blood - sometimes we ate the contents of the stomach as well. I did well on this entirely meat diet and never missed bread, potatoes, salt, or sugar. I was never ill during the long winters, and my teeth were perfect. 

For a year I lived with a group of Indians ("CaribouEaters") in the inland forests, and I was the only white man there. I often think of these people with whom I shared everything for so long, and who became my good friends. It felt strange to become part of the world of the Indians, where so much ancient tradition was still alive. I imagine that most of these Indian friends of mine are dead by now, but I shall always remember them. The year I lived with them was not quite an easy year — but even though there were few caribou, we managed quite well, thanks to the Indians' skills and their principle of the hunt: the catch was shared by all. But the fate of three men who spent the year north of us was tragic — they all starved to death. 

Forty years later a Canadian friend visited me at home in Norway. He showed me a Canadian map, and to my great surprise I saw that a small river south-east of the southern part of Artillery Lake had been named after me. I had lived alone with my dogs in these parts by the very edge of the Barrens for a year, hunting and trapping wolves. From my tent I only needed to walk up a hill to see the endless Barrens. This was a good year, with plenty of caribou. And I had music almost every evening — on the hills around the wolves used to howl, and they were soon joined by the howling of my dogs. Quite an orchestra ... 

Today, the foreboding which I describe on the last page of this book has come true: civilization has invaded the Northwest Territories. When I was there, air traffic was only just starting. During all the years I was there, I saw only two small planes — today there are planes everywhere, there are oil wells, there are mines, there is commercial fishing and much else connected with modern life. At Snowdrift, that beautiful place by Great Slave Lake where the Hudson's Bay Company had a small trading post and where we trappers raised our tents together with the Indians, enjoying the light summer after the hardships of a long and cold winter, there are many houses now and alcohol is a danger. The polar dogs are largely being replaced by noisy snowmobiles. I am glad to have been born at a time when silence reigned in the wilderness, when dog teams and canoes were the only means of transport.

 

The Mortality from Cancer Throughout the World, a work I have cited frequently, was issued during 1915 by the Prudential; it is an 826-page volume by Dr. Frederick L. Hoffman, head of the company's statistical department as well as chairman of the Committee on Statistics of the American Society for the Control of Cancer. As implied above, it runs through Hoffman's work that uncivilized people seldom if ever have cancer. Throughout it is implied, and now and then stated, that this is a common and orthodox belief.

But in later works it appears that Hoffman, though still himself of the same view, realized that there were many skeptics. This is especially apparent in the second of his huge volumes, Cancer and Diet (1937). Here, page 90, is the passage I shall use to introduce Cope:

“An exceedingly important work on Cancer: Civilization and Degeneration by John Cope, was published in London in 1932. Cope discusses the early eating habits of the English and the rarity of cancer at the time, the disease increasing as the consumption of meat decreased. He deplores certain civilized customs ...”

One of the first RCMP officers to make repeated visits to the trading posts and Inuit camps on Victoria Island was Corporal G. M. Wall. In February 1932, Wall left Coppermine with two guides and traveled to Rymer Point, Read Island, Prince Albert Sound, Minto Inlet, and Walker Bay. In his report, written upon his return to Coppermine, Wall made a number of interesting observations regarding the conditions of the Inuit groups he encountered. On islands off the north shore of Minto Inlet, Wall met a large group of Inuit and reported:

This was the largest encampment visited in the country patrolled through, comprising 21 families. Some of the houses were joined together and others had passages leading off a main one to their own igloo. One native here had put up a 10 x 12 foot tent and built a snowhouse over it (RCMP Patrol Report 1932:4).

Wall's observations indicate that the large snowhouse settlements that had always been a feature of traditional Copper Inuit life that were still in use even after traders had entered the region and encouraged people to take up trapping rather than seal hunting. Wall encountered the same group the following year, this time finding fourteen families camped on the ice in the middle of Minto Inlet (RCMP Patrol Report 1933:2).

Wall offers an interesting comparison between the Prince Albert Sound people and the Copper Inuit living around Read Island and Rymer Point:

The natives on the southwest coast of Victoria Land had all done well trapping and in all the camps there was ample evidence of this. They were all well supplied with tea, sugar, biscuits, jam, etc. These natives are also getting away from the use of the seal oil lamps and although they had them they would use the primus lamps they had bought this winter, this may only be for a year as long as they can buy coal oil from the traders. The continual use of primus stoves does not tend towards cleanliness, and the houses are very dirty as was the clothing which had been purchased from the traders. The calico artigues and the men's trousers have been covered in grease and are dirty…. There was a remarkable difference in the Prince Albert Sound natives. These peoples did not have the white man's food and clothing, depending on the country for food. The houses were all clean and tidy and they were all well clothed with deer skins, only using a very little white men's clothing. All the sleds, harpoons and equipment was all of the best and in good repair, also all the dogs were in fine condition. The people themselves were all a fine healthy looking bunch and there was only one case of sickness; this was a very old woman. These natives only go into Read Island once a [year] to trade, usually at the end of April and stay on the south coast of Victoria Land three or four weeks visiting the other relatives and then return again (RCMP Patrol Report 1933:7).

Wall's comments are echoed in later reports. By and large, those Copper Inuit who were in less direct contact with white traders seemed to be healthier and better clothed than those living closer to trading posts. Wall believed that the people of Minto Inlet ranked somewhere in between the people of Prince Albert Sound and the Inuit of southwest Victoria Island, possibly due to the influence of both the westerners and the two trading posts at Walker Bay.

"The influence of the missionaries is very noticeable and at all the camps visited the natives would show me their hymn books. The Minto Inlet natives held a service while I was there which consisted of singing six hymns. They observe Sunday very closely and will not do a thing, spending most of the day singing hymns even if the camp is out of meat" (RCMP Patrol Report 1933:7).

Another observation made by Wall during his 1932 patrol is fascinating. In assessing game conditions for the regions visited, Wall notes that caribou are very scarce, and that the people subsist primarily on seal, fish, and small game. To the north of Prince Albert Sound, he notes, "the natives hunt in the summertime and get a few caribou, but live chiefly on fish." Wall continues:

The Minto Inlet natives spend the summer around the post at Walker Bay and last summer they killed about 60 caribou roughly 20 miles north of the post.