Food intolerance: the new epidemic? - Telegraph

Food intolerance: the new epidemic? - Telegraph

Food intolerance: the new epidemic?
Finger on the pulse? One in five Britons is now labouring under the misapprehension that they are suffering from a food allergy.



The nation is in the grip of an epidemic, but one very different from those usually written about, such as obesity, diabetes and binge-drinking. What makes this epidemic unusual is that it is not an illness or condition in itself, but the false belief that something is wrong with you. This mass delusion affects millions of people in this country, and it’s getting worse. It’s food intolerance.

I should say from the outset that there are, of course, people who suffer from genuine food allergies, but what has come to light this month is how many people are labouring under the misapprehension that they are among the sufferers. One in five Britons now claims to have a food allergy or intolerance, with most stating wheat as the problem. That is an increase of 400 per cent in the past 20 years.

Years ago, sufferers of food allergies had to go to specialist shops and forgo meals out, but most supermarkets now have aisles dedicated to restricted diets, and packaging is carefully labelled. Restaurant menus detail hidden potential allergens and invite people to inform the chef of any special dietary requirements. For those with genuine allergies, this can be a lifesaver, but the pervasiveness shows how much food allergy has entered into the collective consciousness.

Now research conducted by Portsmouth University has shown that of those people claiming to have an allergy or intolerance, only 2 per cent actually did. That means millions of people wrongly think they have a food allergy. Their condition is not an allergy itself, but the belief that they have an allergy. Of course, some people use food intolerance as a socially acceptable way to say they just don’t like something. It’s posh-sounding pickiness. To some extent I also think, it’s the result of fad-diets and the pseudo‑science that surrounds nutrition, and which has conventionally trained dietitians pulling their hair out in despair.

This food faddism encourages people to restrict aspects of their diet and gives weight to the notion that in so doing they can counteract the perceived toxic effects of modern life. A multi-million pound industry has sprung up around this, riddled with inaccurate and competing theories, and ignoring the fact that eating sensibly and in moderation, with plenty of fruit and vegetables, is all that’s needed for most people.

Why diet attracts so much mumbo-jumbo is an interesting question. Why do people restrict their intake unnecessarily by falsely claiming to have a medical condition? Eating is a potent ritual, rich in symbolism. The anthropologist Mary Douglas wrote extensively on the cultural importance of consumption and argued that what we eat not only defines us as people but also helps us to feel control and mastery over an otherwise chaotic and random world. She argued that by ordering foods into those we can consume and those that we can’t, we create meaning, and the boundaries provide order in our lives.

Traditionally this was done through religious laws governing what could and could not be eaten. In recent years, the idea of pollution and purity in food has taken on a biomedical slant. I also wonder if it isn’t an artefact of our social climate. Everybody likes to feel special. As children, it is impressed on us that our achievements set us apart from the masses and mark us out for great things to come, whether it’s winning Young Musician of the Year or the egg and spoon race.

The realisation that most people aren’t that special can be avoided by adopting a quasi-medical condition that sets one apart. It demands attention and consideration. It forces other people to think about them and make special arrangements for them. Only last week, a friend with recently self-diagnosed lactose intolerance came round for a cup of tea. “Do you have any soya milk?” she asked as the kettle boiled. I confessed I hadn’t and felt awful. It was then that I realised she was on her third chocolate biscuit. “Oh, milk’s OK in chocolate biscuits,” she said hastily. How convenient, I thought.