Skip to main content

January Detox. No thanks.

January is an odd month. There's the anti-climax of a new year, which, after the build up of Christmas, can be rather depressing. There's also the cold; the harsh, dark weather can dampen your mood. You're left with the daunting prospect that there's still a few months to go of all this until spring.
It makes you want to hide under the duvet and hibernate for three months. With a dvd box-set of the X Files and an endless supply of tea. (I would slip out to watch a rugby match or two though...)

Themes that always seems to crop up in January however, are resolutions, and in particular detox. You hear it everywhere. 'I'll give up smoking'. 'I'll get fit'. 'I'll eat healthily'. 'I'll give up murder'. (Perhaps not the last one) But it's as if we eat so much in the name of Christmas, we try on the jeans on January 1st and freak out. It inspires us to realise this suddenly, something that we should have really twigged in July...when we tried to squidge into that bathing costume and instead resembled cottage cheese spilling out of bin liners. We need to lose weight. Or work out. Or whatever.

And then the dreaded D word crops up. (No, not Darlek) Detox. It's thrown about all year around of course, but particularly now. This is its special time of year. It can creep out of the shadows of organic food and health scares and take the centre stage. All the excess seems to make our bodies weary, all the Christmas sherry has seeped into our veins. All the mince pies have exploded onto our waistlines. We're tired and sluggish. So a detox is in order!

I didn't really care either way about the whole concept of detoxing until I stumbled upon the Bad Science column in The Guardian newspaper. I suggest a read of this Bad Science blog, or even better, buy his book. It was through reading Bad Science that I eventually stumbled upon this from Sense About Science, which basically debunks the detox myth. It states there is no scientific evidence to suggest 'detoxing' has any benefits whatsoever.

The author of Bad Science, Dr Ben Goldacre is a great champion of poorly portrayed science and how we are often being totally mislead by media perceptions of science reports and statistics. He writes concisely and well. I have also seen him speak at the Hay-On-Wye festival, and he is engaging and above all, makes sense. When you read his writings, you realise how scarily inaccurate a great deal of media reports are. You discover things like detox are a drop in the ocean in the entire schemes of things (scare mongering that should perhaps read). MMR, MRSA, Cancer 'cures', Cancer 'causes', mobile phone masts, fish oil trials on kids, health scares, homeopathy and herbal remedies, brain gyms....they've all been scarily (and in the case of MMR, dangerously) mis-reported. The list continues and it is large.

But Bad Science and Sense About Science write about these topics in depth and better than I could ever even begin. I recommend anyone take a look. It is seriously eye-opening.

Bad Science
Sense About Science

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Rufus Wainwright and the Es Muss Sein

Last week I saw Rufus Wainwright on his Songs for Lulu tour, the new album released last month, just a few weeks after the sad death of his mother Anna McGarrigle of cancer, in January. The album itself is the most stripped bare of Rufus' works - it is simply Rufus at his piano. And yet the whole record is arguably his most complicated, intricate and emotionally textured of anything he has ever produced before. The performance was exquisite. Criticised by some as being pretentious, Rufus played the entire album in full, clapping in between songs forbidden. The usual Rufus banter was absent. No little quips of welcomes. Or face pulling. Just Rufus, his piano, and the heart-wrenching musical tale of losing his mother. Typically, the audience illustrated the amazing wide spectrum of fan-base Rufus attracts. From grannies to teens, to trendies to punks, from men wearing skirts to straight-laced middle-aged tweeds; it matters not, and everyone has a wonderful time. If solemn on this oc...

A Day in the Life of Cardiff

The light is bright, the essence is full of promise, if but a slightly seedy one. On the busy train into Cardiff, two white-haired old ladies sit on the battered seats, their Dot Cotton house coats visible underneath their rain-macs. Tightly pursed lips, arms folded cross their robust darlek-shaped bodies, clutching their handbags as if their lives depended on it. There is a slight smell of odor de cooking-oil. "No discipline" utters one critically to the other, whilst staring directly ahead with a glare of a Terminator. "Dave says he needs to go back to the doctors for his pills". Replies the other, frowning. "They don't listen." "That'll be another bus trip." "We were brought up to listen." "John Lewis is nice." The mouths fasten shut and the two masses of old cotton-wooled hair bob up and down in complete un-agreement with each other. The train chugs along, a DJ tracked monotonous soundtrack. The light is yellow and...

Confirmed - I Like Trash

The other day, I took a photograph. On reflection of it, I have come to the conclusion that I am a little odd. Well, I've known that for a while, but was in denial. (And people who know me will wonder why it's taken me this long to realise...) When out and about, I often seem to find things that amuse me. These could be odd objects left behind or abandoned, silly graffiti that just makes me laugh, or just something bizarre and random. I like to photograph them. I was out walking and spotted this discarded shopping list...as soon as I saw it, I realised there was something about it that really tickled me. I wasn't exactly sure why, but I just knew it did. So I had to photograph it, even just on my camera phone, to preserve it's quirkiness before it disappeared off into the wind, or disintegrated by rain and other elements, never to be seen by human eyes again. The idea of that almost upsets me. Which is why I realise I am rather odd. What is it about an unwanted shopping...