Gluten Part 2: The Gluten Problem from a Historical Context
It's a Jungle Out There
The Jungle
When Upton Sinclair wrote The Jungle in the first few years of the 20th century, his intention was to promote Socialism by showing just how dysfunctional and dangerous Capitalism was for those placing, or misplacing, their trust in the American Dream. But, as he later stated, “I aimed at the public’s heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach.”
As in any tragedy, the story’s protagonist, a young Lithuanian immigrant, loses it all. On a mission to create his own Great American Novel, Sinclair began his project by going undercover in the Chicago meat packing plants. He wanted to include real details about the filthy working conditions endured by workers, or as he called them, “the wage slaves of the Beef Trust.” While these details were just one part of a long story, they shocked and outraged the public so much that the discussion around The Jungle quickly pivoted into a discussion about meat processing regulations and food safety.
There had been growing concern among Americans about the safety of their food, but with those in government receiving generous handouts from industries such as the so-called “Beef Trust,” the concerned citizens had been unable to hold their legislators accountable. The uproar caused by Sinclair’s depictions of the meat packing industry changed that. Not only were Americans outraged, but several European trading partners banned the purchase of American meat as well. This financial blow shook the industry and gave the proponents of a food safety bill enough momentum and support to finally pass food safety legislation, signed by President Roosevelt in 1906. [1]
A Few Excerpts
Just so you can see what all the fuss was about, here are a few of my favorite excerpts from The Jungle:
“It seemed that he was working in the room where the men prepared the beef for canning, and the beef had lain in vats full of chemicals, and men with great forks speared it out and dumped it into trucks, to be taken to the cooking room. When they had speared out all they could reach, they emptied the vat on the floor, and then with shovels scraped up the balance and dumped it into the truck. This floor was filthy, yet they set Antanas with his mop slopping the “pickle” into a hole that connected with a sink, where it was caught and used over again forever; and if that were not enough, there was a trap in the pipe, where all the scraps of meat and odds and ends of refuse were caught, and every few days it was the old man’s task to clean these out, and shovel their contents into one of the trucks with the rest of the meat!”
“There would be meat stored in great piles in rooms; and the water from leaky roofs would drip over it, and thousands of rats would race about on it. It was too dark in these storage places to see well, but a man could run his hand over these piles of meat and sweep off handfuls of the dried dung of rats. These rats were nuisances, and the packers would put poisoned bread out for them; they would die, and then rats, bread, and meat would go into the hoppers together. This is no fairy story and no joke; the meat would be shoveled into carts, and the man who did the shoveling would not trouble to lift out a rat even when he saw one—there were things that went into the sausage in comparison with which a poisoned rat was a tidbit. There was no place for the men to wash their hands before they ate their dinner, and so they made a practice of washing them in the water that was to be ladled into the sausage.”
“One day a man slipped and hurt his leg; and that afternoon, when the last of the cattle had been disposed of, and the men were leaving, Jurgis was ordered to remain and do some special work which this injured man had usually done. It was late, almost dark, and the government inspectors had all gone, and there were only a dozen or two of men on the floor. That day they had killed about four thousand cattle, and these cattle had come in freight trains from far states, and some of them had got hurt. There were some with broken legs, and some with gored sides; there were some that had died, from what cause no one could say; and they were all to be disposed of, here in darkness and silence. “Downers,” the men called them; and the packing house had a special elevator upon which they were raised to the killing beds, where the gang proceeded to handle them, with an air of businesslike nonchalance which said plainer than any words that it was a matter of everyday routine. It took a couple of hours to get them out of the way, and in the end Jurgis saw them go into the chilling rooms with the rest of the meat, being carefully scattered here and there so that they could not be identified. When he came home that night he was in a very somber mood, having begun to see at last how those might be right who had laughed at him for his faith in America.” [2]
You can read the entire book here.
A Modern Context
What strikes me most about The Jungle’s impact on food safety regulations is how it took a work of fiction to tip the scale. The meat packing industry was just too wealthy for the government to be motivated to pass any laws the industry did not want passed. Only when their own financials suffered was there a chance for discussion. To me, it says a lot that a discussion was even required. Because of the immense conflict of interest caused when many politicians accepted industry bribes, the lobbyists themselves needed to believe government regulation was in their best interest. Only a financial blow and the hope of renewed sales under a regulated system could do that. It’s funny how the arts can create change where our institutions fall short.
Nowadays, food safety is still a hot topic, and there is continued questioning about if our government does enough to protect us as consumers. For example, Red 3 was finally banned after research raised concerns about its cancer-causing effects. This research was done 35 years ago. It took a generation for the ban to be passed, and it won’t even go into effect until 2027. [3]
The cycle of development and redevelopment is a natural one. I’m sure when the Chicago meat packing plants Upton Sinclair wrote about didn’t begin with the purpose of selling rotten, chemical-laced meat. I’m sure there was excitement about assembly lines speeding up production and the savings that could be passed on to customers. Then, over time, the issues Sinclair depicted arose, and without government regulations in place, the workplace conditions became worse, the quality of the meat suffered, and the consumers got sick.
The 1906 Meat Inspection Act and other similar legislation required the industry to redevelop and reestablish itself. Did that fix all the problems once and for all? Of course not. Did it help? Yes.
So much of the food we eat is grown, harvested, shipped, produced, packaged, and shipped again, all out of our sight. In many ways, this is a net benefit for us. It allows us to live in cities, to go out for dinner, and to focus on our own jobs. But it also raises questions about what exactly it is we’re eating. While individual Americans in the 1900s certainly had bad experiences from eating rotten meat, any real concerns they had were reduced to baseless chatter. Without seeing every step of the process for themselves, and without any government oversight, how were they to know if there really was a large-scale problem?
The Gluten Problem
The protein that fed many of our ancestors for millennia is now being called into question by many Americans. It’s clear that some people are having issues digesting gluten, and it’s also clear that there are many problems with our food system. Almost all of the steps needed to get flour from the fields and into our mouths is done without the public seeing. This leaves many questions, ranging from the effects of herbicides like glyphosate on our digestive tracts to the damage done by overprocessing the flour itself. Government oversight helps, but the government is often slow to act or refuses to act at all when substantial money is involved, either because of lobbying or due to fear of disrupting a large industry.
As fellow full-inclusion flour proponent Adam Leonti wrote in his excellent book entitled Flour Lab, “Industrial flour is rife with compounds that could affect digestion and health. Meanwhile, the absence of bran and germ, the very substances that aid digestion and make flour “whole,” can turn the flour into an allergen of sorts.” [4]
As a grain and flour enthusiast, I’m curious to watch the developments in our understanding of gluten, modern food processing, and the intersection of both. But regardless of what specifics are discovered, it’s pretty clear that our ancestors had healthy relationships with grain, and we do not. Just as some Americans chose to buy their meat from local farms even before The Jungle exposed exactly what was wrong with industrialized meat, we can choose to buy our grain from local farms without needing to know exactly what’s wrong with commercial wheat products.
Our ancient ancestors were doing something right that we’re doing very wrong. We can change that by going back to the source and being present for every step of the process. Yes, it’s more work. But to protect our bodies, our communities, and our planet, I believe it’s worth it.
This week’s recipe is for Mexican Wedding Sablés. These lovely little cookies can be made with any grain or pseudo-grain, meaning they’re adaptable for people with gluten sensitivities. At our bakery, we make them with barley (yes, barley does contain gluten, albeit a different strain from wheat) which gives them a delightfully nutty and complex flavor. Let’s get baking!
Sources
1 https://www.history.com/news/upton-sinclair-the-jungle-us-food-safety-reforms
2 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/140/140-h/140-h.htm