One recent post over on Hyperlipid analyzes fasting insulin and — get this — accidental weight loss among the obese. Here are some excerpts that may be mind-blowing to the nutritionally uninitiated:

[O]ut of only five subjects, one obese person became a food refusenick. Various studies have had similar compliance problems, with obese participants refusing food. … What is more interesting is the trend in accidental weight loss.

My take home message is that the lower the carbohydrate intake (and it is reasonable to assume the lower the fasting insulin) the harder it is to consume enough calories to maintain the obese state. It’s possible, but not easy.

I think this decrease in hunger probably only occurs in obesity. For those of us who have adopted a LC [low-carb] eating pattern without the need for weight loss (and still have little excess fat) there are clearly other factors coming in to play, as there will be when a previously overweight person approaches target/ideal weight, what ever that might be.

The experience is actually quite familiar to those of us who have managed to lose serious weight by controlling our carb intake and thus our insulin production. Once you’re able to burn your own body fat for fuel, the uncomfortable hunger pangs of a lifetime of diets fade into memory. It’s remarkable.

What’s being suggested above is that this is a normalization process, back to some baseline of health and body weight. You know how the diet industry insists that you shouldn’t think of them as diets but rather lifestyle changes? It’s the right idea, but — if you’re doing low-fat and “chronic cardio” — the wrong lifestyle.

Gary Taubes relays Bob Kaplan‘s downright poetic way of thinking about this in a recent post:

A restricted-carbohydrate diet doesn’t make you lose weight; it corrects your weight.

A restricted-carbohydrate diet doesn’t make you lose water weight; it corrects your water weight.

A restricted-carbohydrate diet doesn’t improve serum lipids; it corrects serum lipids.

A restricted-carbohydrate diet doesn’t improve health; it corrects unhealthiness.

I think we’re entering into a kind of Paleo 2.0 phase, where many of us are discovering that our “target/ideal” limits are something short of our personal wishlist due to accumulated damage over time. I’ve been trying for several years now to “get the last 20 pounds off” without success, and I’m not alone. (I do feel that I’m asymptotically approaching better health, and I’m strongly motivated by the idea of delaying the effects of aging by avoiding AGEs!) The good news is that the evidence is also starting to accumulate, and people are cottoning on to it earlier in life. Oh, to be able to do things all over again…

Taubes is obviously a man on a mission, nearly bursting with frustration at the anti-scientific and near-religious wishful thinking that has been passing for diet, nutrition, and public health advice for the last few decades. Near-religious? Yes — really. Why else would we be told this by “experts” for so long, even though their theories can readily be falsified?

If we’re fat and we can prove that we eat in moderation — we don’t eat any more, say, than do our lean friends or siblings — the experts will confidently assume that we must be physically inactive. If we’re carrying excess fat but obviously get plenty of exercise, then the experts will assume with equal confidence that we eat too much. If we’re not gluttons, then we must be guilty of sloth. If we’re not slothful, then gluttony is our sin. [WWGF, p. 29]

But Taubes keeps his vexation in check, using his energy instead to boil down the evidence in his magnum opus Good Calories, Bad Calories to its essence for easier reading. (You may recall that I once called GCBC “a 50/50 split between ‘gripping’ and ‘a hard slog’”.)

Most of all, he uses plain logic and helpful metaphors, along with tinctures of hard science and hard data, to show how diet experts’ arguments and advice — like “Just eat less and exercise more” and “Low-carb is dangerous because our brains need glucose to function” — amount to little more than “Who are you gonna believe, me or your lying eyes?” The logic and the data are useful for applying appropriate skepticism when you face the latest scientific paper that goes awry in its very first sentence by asserting that access to “unlimited calories” and an “increasing sedentary lifestyle” are the problem. Here’s something useful to know (and not all that surprising to learn): we’re exercising harder than ever.

…[I]n the United States … the obesity epidemic has coincided with what we might call an epidemic of leisure-time physical activity, of health clubs and innovative means of expending energy (in-line skating, mountain biking, step and elliptical machines, spinning and aerobics, Brazilian martial-arts classes — the list goes on), virtually all of which we were invented or radically redesigned since the obesity epidemic began.

There are many ways to quantify this epidemic of physical activity. Health-club industry revenues, for example, increased from an estimated $200 million in 1972 to $16 billion in 2005 — a seventeen-fold increase when adjusted for inflation. The first year that the Boston Marathon had more than 300 entrants was 1964; in 2009, more than 26,000 men and women ran. [WWGF, p. 42]

I suppose I’m no longer truly in the target audience for this book, since I can already recite many of the arguments in my sleep. And logic may have very little power over those with a vested interest in believing the opposite. But if you’ve struggled with weight (or — neologism alert — “diabesity”) and have been following along here but haven’t yet read GCBC, I recommend WWGF to you, either as a standalone work or as a gateway drug to the hard stuff.

The thing is, I want my family and friends and colleagues (and myself) to be as healthy and happy as possible. And over the last five years I’ve learned, and confirmed to my own satisfaction, some information about health and nutrition that I very much want to share towards that end. But while the science is pretty much settled (no, not that science), public-health stances and conventional wisdom are another matter.

In a nutshell, the science I’m referring to is:

carbohydrate intake (not dietary fat) drives insulin response, which drives fat accumulation and potentially other serious health issues

or, in a smaller nutshell:

carbs drive fat

By now, lots of ordinary people and big-time news outlets have become aware of this Atkins diet/Gary Taubes/low-carb stuff and taken it seriously, so it’s not exactly news. But I finished reading Taubes’s book Good Calories, Bad Calories a few months ago, and it left such a strong impression on me that I thought I might have something to add to the discussion.

My original intent was to do a humongous book review/analysis here and get it out of my system, but I realized that wouldn’t work — there’s too much to say. Then it occurred to me: Blogs allow for these things called entries, which can be written over time… My next thought was to start a new blog to hold all this stuff, and in fact I got as far as securing carbgrrl.com for that purpose. But then some friends convinced me that integrating my interests in one place is best, and after all, this is already a hybrid blog that has seen lots of evolution. (If you want to see just the stuff in my new carbgrrl category, carbgrrl.com will take you straight there.)

If you’re curious, or skeptical but interested, or have struggled as I have with a lifelong weight problem and associated health issues, I hope I’ll succeed in enticing you to check out Good Calories, Bad Calories (hereinafter GCBC, and now available in paperback). One review on the dust jacket of my hardcover edition describes it as having “engaging narrative”; I’d say it’s more like a 50/50 split between “gripping” and “a hard slog”. For me it was an important slog, but if you want the easy-breezy route, you could do worse than read Dr. Atkins’ New Diet Revolution, which, to the first couple of approximations, turns out to be…correct.

My original book review was shaping up to have several themes, so keep an eye out for ruminations along these lines:

• The mechanisms at work
• Diet studies and stats
• Now they tell us (otherwise known as “Duh”)
• Correlation is not causation
• The public-health establishment

If you’ve stuck with me this far, by now you’re probably wondering: What’s with the monkey chow? Here’s some food (ahem) for thought to get things started.

Monkeys in captivity, by the way, will also get obese and diabetic on high-carbohydrate chow diets. One of the first reports of this phenomenon was in 1965, by John Brobeck of Yale, whose rhesus monkeys got fat and mildly diabetic on Purina Monkey Chow — 15 percent protein, 6 percent fat, and 59 percent digestible carbohydrates. According to Barbara Hansen, who studies diabetes and obesity and runs a primate-research laboratory at the University of Maryland, perhaps 60 percent of middle-aged monkeys in captivity are obese by monkey standards. “This is on the kind of diet recommended by the American Heart Association,” she says, “high-fiber, low-fat, no-cholesterol chow.” [GCBC Ch. 14, p. 249]

Stay tuned for more.