It’s The Elephant in the Room

Yesterday was a rather enlightening day on X (formerly Twitter).

I happened to come across an email about Andreas Eenfeldt, a Swedish doctor I’ve known in real life for over a decade. We first met at the Ancestral Health Symposium at UCLA in 2011.

We’re not best buds. We remember each-other notably. He used to be a low-carb guru, “stealing” the spotlight from Jimmy Moore’s market share, it seemed. Andreas is a clinician, not some ivory tower academic; he actually sees patients.

But here’s the thing:

Like many clinicians, he probably sees the same shit daily: people who sit on their asses, can’t handle hunger, looking for the magic dietary bullet so they can eat whatever, whenever, and still look like Adonis or Venus.

I get it:

If you’re one of those people, low carb is maybe your best bet if you can’t change. Not because it’s magical, but because when you cut the junkie carbs and load up on whole foods, especially animal foods, you get full. You eat less. Less often. This helps manage weight or diabetes.

The problem?

This approach seduces people into thinking they can eat freely without discipline. They fall into the trap:

“I can just eat these magic foods, as much as I want, whenever I want, and I’ll be fine.”

Wrong.

Then you see them in forums and shit, whining:

“I’ve got my carbs to zero, but I’m not losing weight. WTF?”

Those of us who deal with people in the real world, rather than pontificating from high towers, know this shit doesn’t work for everyone.

Now, the twist:

A few months back, I was surprised to learn that Andreas and Dr. Ted Naiman from the US had teamed up. They created this app called Hava.

What’s Hava?

It ranks foods by satiety, regardless of what they are. You know, like how a big steak can fill you up? That’s the low-carb angle. But what if you’re not into that?

Here’s a wild example:

Studies have shown that if you feed people plain boiled potatoes—nothing added but salt, pepper, maybe malt vinegar—they get full fast. So full, they can’t even eat enough to maintain their weight. And guess what? It’s 95% carbohydrate, yet they go into deep ketosis within days.

Irony alert:

On the satiety spectrum, french fries and potato chips are at the fucking bottom. Same plant, different preparation, and you get a completely different result.

Anecdote:

About 10 years ago I sponsored a potato hack, where you eat nothing but plain boiled potatoes. Many long-time low-carb readers were sporting enough to try. After a few days, they had the deepest levels of ketosis they had ever measured. On 95% carbohydrate.

It righteously fucked with their heads and that’s what I’m all about. Falsification. True science.

… Here’s what Andreas reported in email, carbohydrate agnostic. Satiety rules.

This graph is boring—but its story isn’t

When we introduced the satiety score, not everyone believed in it. Critics questioned whether this approach could really make a difference.

Now, nearly a year later, we’ve analyzed data from 67,000 days logged by thousands of Hava app users—and the results are undeniable.

As this graph shows, there’s a clear relationship: when satiety scores go up, calorie intake goes down. No gimmicks, no guesswork—just real-world data proving that smarter choices lead to better results.

Want to dive deeper into the findings? Dr. Andreas Eenfeldt broke it all down in our latest blog post.

You can read the post.

An aside about CICO

Here’s the deal. The so-called CICO, or “Calories In, Calories Out,” has always been the big sticking point. On one side, you have the CICO advocates, the ones who say, “Just track your calories and you’ll be fine.” On the other, you’ve got the naysayers, the ones who argue, “People aren’t going to do that,” and they come up with other, supposedly easier, methods. Fine. Let them.

But here’s the kicker: Every. Single. One. Of the top money-making bodybuilders and figure competitors in the world, forever, have used CICO. Calories In. Calories Out.

Think of it like a tape measure. Sure, it might vary even a lot from person to person. Your macronutrient ratios might change the scale. But the point remains. They use it. You can use it as a tool to sculpt the physiques that grace competition stages.

Don’t believe me? Google it. Look up the pictures. Stop your fucking nonsense about calories in, calories out meaning nothing.

Now, if you’re saying, “But people, it’s not the best way for them,” then I fully agree. For the average Joe or Jane, maybe it’s not the go-to method. But for those who are serious, who are in the game to win, CICO is the gold standard for now. It’s the ultimate tool. Unyielding.

Stop looking stupid by dissing its competent use among people who look a fuck-ton better than you do.

… Now I introduce the Elephant in the Room.

The “Revolutionary” Diet Paradigms

So, this satiety thing that Andreas and Ted have come up with is not so much revolutionary as it is a recognition of reality from a paradigm and an older paradigm. Here’s the deal:

The Old Paradigms

You had the plain calories parody: Eat whatever you want, but measure the kcals and tough it out. Perhaps in that, you understand why some people measuring calories had better success than others. Different foods, different outcomes in terms of ease or hardship. Competitive bodybuilders and figure models make millions using CICO to exacting success. They simply figure out how to use it as a tool—a tape measure—and stick to it.

Then came low carbohydrate diets. Now, these have many iterations—from plain old Atkins to variations that are Keto (The Epileptic Diet) and carnivore diets. The bottom line? Carbohydrates are the evil thing. Eliminate or greatly reduce carbs, and you’re more likely to eat the magic foods.

Magic Foods?

What are these magic foods? They’re what you can eat as much of as often as you like, and either lose or maintain your weight. Fantastic. But hunger or perceived hunger will always win out.

How do you control hunger if you don’t have the wherewithal to tough it out? You can do something that synthetically limits your hunger, like fasting. Whether it’s an all-day fast or within a specific period where you eat for two hours, three hours, up to about six or eight hours, and then consume no calories for the other 16 to 18 to 20 hours. Effective. Control things. Doesn’t matter as much what you eat or how much within that window, but that you’re strict about that window.

It’s the too often part of my “equation.”

You figure out your window where you can eat anything you want, as much as you want. Within those few hours.

The New Stupid

Now, one of the newer things. It’s always been there, but because nothing else worked, the very stupidest people are now onto this. Let me repeat that: the very stupidest people. The standard-bearer? A guy named Tucker Goodrich. It’s bullshit. It’s all bullshit. So much so, I won’t even comment on it. (Seed Oils!!!)

Tucker might not know this, but palm oil is still the most widely used cooking oil in the world and has been for a very, very long time. There are obese people now, where there weren’t before. People never got fat because of it until they got—not rich—but had means enough to eat as much as they want whenever they want.

Live and Learn

I have lived in Thailand for five years, a visitor for 38. There are actually two diets in this land: Isaan food and Thai food. Isaan food distinguishes the northeast region of Thailand. Zero cooking fat. Zero added fat in their diet. Yet, obesity is on the rise there. You’re fucking falsified, seed-oil morons. You idiots don’t look out the window much, do you?

… Back in 1986, I visited Thailand for the first time. 38 years ago. I cannot remember ever seeing a single fat person. Not one.

Why? Here’s what I connect those dots with: In 1986, Thailand was a land where 80% to 90 of the population was below the World-Bank delineated poverty line. I came here a number of times between ’86 and ’91. Not much changed.

Then, I was gone for about 29 years, not a single visit. I came back in early 2020, just in time for the global scare over a bad cold or mild flu. I didn’t leave the country for four years. Another story.

Far more notable than the world cowering in dark corners like little scared kids, was that now…I. See. Fat. People.

Now

I’m American. I’m no stranger to seeing fat people. Born in 1961, what I saw here upon returning to Thailand reminded me of that era. Oh, now there’s some fat people, mostly women. Very few men because they still had to work every day and don’t get to eat all the time. Women, doing their more traditional roles, can take care of those roles, sit around, watch TV (now unlimited phone data and they love the Korean, Japanese, and Thai soap operas nothing fucking changes…as an aside, Thai gals also love Korean “rape porn”) and eat whenever they want because they’re at home.

I asked our resident Grok AI to compare the financial burden of food.

In 1900, the financial burden of food as a percentage of a person’s salary was significantly higher than in 2020. According to historical data and contemporary discussions on social platforms, in 1900, Americans spent approximately 40% of their income on food. This figure reflects the era’s economic conditions where food production was less efficient, and the average income was lower, making food a substantial part of household expenses.

By contrast, in 2020, the percentage of income spent on food had dramatically decreased to about 6.5%. This shift represents an evolution in food production, distribution, and economic prosperity. Factors like agricultural advancements, globalization of food supply, and increases in real wages have contributed to this reduction in the proportion of income dedicated to food.

This juxtaposition highlights a significant change in the financial burden of sustenance over the century, illustrating how improvements in productivity and economic conditions have altered the cost of living in relation to food expenses.

The Shift

Look at the figures now for poverty in Thailand: it’s a 180° shift. Now only about 10% to 15% are below the poverty line. Add to that food production and distribution becoming more widespread and efficient. People have much less of their earning power at stake in being able to eat as much as they want whenever they want.

Paradigm Shift — The Atkins Diet and Its Progeny: A Low-Carb Odyssey

The Atkins diet. Robert Atkins. He’s the one who popularized it. But let’s not get it twisted: low-carb diets weren’t a new thing. Various folks had been looking at obesity, zeroing in on carbohydrates in the diet, dismissing the fact that humans and our primate ancestors have been eating carbs for centuries. No, hundreds of thousands of years.

Atkins popped up in the early 1970s. Here we are, 50 years later, and that parody has run its course. Understand this: nobody ever stuck with Atkins. They always needed something new and improved. “Oh, now it’s keto.” But that’s an epileptic diet, not gonna work for everyone. So, “Okay, now we’re gonna go to carnivore.”

All these iterations of the low-carb diet. They’ve swung the pendulum so far that now people are socially ostracized. Who wants a friend who only eats meat all the time? You can’t invite him over for an afternoon event. Maybe he won’t even come. Or when he does, he just munches on all the meat you have.

Humans are omnivores. We’ve always been. So there’s something else at play here.

Yes, low-carb or keto or carnivore diets can be interventions. They’re great for the lazy, fat glutton who can’t go three seconds being hungry. These diets let you eat as much of certain foods as often as you want. I don’t dispute it; these diets are great interventions for lazy-ass fat people who refuse to fix the real problem: they eat too much and too often.

I’m talking from clinicians here. Doctors, certified folks dealing with patients daily, hearing all the bullshit stories. They’ve come to realize something crucial: low-carb is not a lifestyle. Paradigm shift.

It’s an intervention, a quick fix. But here’s the kicker: once you’ve used it to get your head straight, you’ve got to move on. You’ve got to find a balance, embrace the omnivorous nature of our species, and stop looking for the next diet fad to cling to.

Live. Eat. Love. Enjoy. But for fuck’s sake, take responsibility for your own dietary choices.

Connecting Dots — The Convergence of Dietary Wisdom

You should know by now that I’m not in the business of taking sides. I have friends and acquaintances spanning the entire spectrum of dietary debate, and I watch closely. I listen. Over the last few months, I’ve observed my friend Dr. Michael Eades increasingly focusing on ultra-processed foods, which aligns nicely, I believe, with what Robert F. Kennedy Jr. aims to address in his vision for health policy in the United States.

I’m not one to throw out the baby with the bathwater. If I have quibbles with RFK Jr.’s plans, I’m more inclined to say, “Let’s see what he does.” But what has grabbed my attention recently is the trajectory of Michael Eades. Yes, Dr. Michael Eades, the author of Protein Power along with his wife Mary Dan Eades, both of whom I’ve known IRL personally for years.

Watching Mike dive deeper into the discussion about processed foods, and then, a few months ago, seeing Dr. Andreas Eenfeldt from Sweden, along with American Dr. Ted Naiman, launch Hava—an app where people can explore the satiation levels of foods—has been enlightening. Their data indicates that when people shift towards more satiating foods, their caloric intake tends to spontaneously adjust downward.

They eat less, less often.

Here’s the dot. Circle back to the beginning. Dot.

Remember the Atkins and low-carb diet era? If you were smart, inquisitive, and perceptive, you’d realize that going low-carb meant less processed or ultra-processed junk, pushing you towards more satiating foods like meat and vegetables. Even a pack of jerky from a convenience store beats a bag of chips any day. Over time, this shift has an effect. A profound effect. You’re not indulging in the ultra-processed crap in favor of the more real, nourishing foods, and if you’re patient, you see results.

So, in the end, my hope is that Dr. Eades integrates his insights on processed foods with Dr. Eenfeldt’s work on satiation.

Let’s go, gentlemen. The future of dietary health might just hinge on this integration.

Be complete.

Be accurate.

Be truthful.

Be honest.

Take no prisoners.

That’s all in this episode of iconoclasm and dot connecting. I have a membership sale going on, until New Year’s Day.