Is candy evil or misunderstood?

The New York Times Health section featured the Candy Professor, Samira Kawash, a writer and professor who researches the history of candy, and how it is sometimes vilified. The Candy Professor contends that candy has always been honest about what it is: a processed food, a treat, something for pleasure not for nutrition. But some people have a knee-jerk reaction against eating candy, or feeding their children candy, despite reaching for foods such as fruit juices and granola bars that have just as much sugar. Candy is seen as something forbidden, while those granola bars have a veil of nutrition.

It is an interesting look at how we make decisions about food, perhaps not always rational ones. It is also about communication and the messages we hear about candy and how that influences the decisions we make.

What do you think?

If the result is the one you want, does it matter how you get there?

The New York Times Parenting blog points to an interesting new public service announcement running in New York. The PSA encourages moms to breastfeed. But the enticement is not the health benefits for the baby. The enticement to breastfeed is that many women who breastfeed lose weight.

So the question is whether it is appropriate to entice an audience to engage in a behavior for vanity? It's not unheard of. Anti-smoking campaigns have used the approach. And breastfeeding campaigns might also mention other reasons for breastfeeding that have nothing to do with the baby's health: such as monetary savings. If a health campaign is successful in getting an audience to engage in a health behavior, does the why matter?

Pink fatigue

The New York Times Well blog had an article today about the growing number of voices expressing "pink fatigue." October is breast cancer awareness month and pink is everywhere. but some fear that the emphasis on marketing and cutesy products misses the point. Others feels the money could be better spent on actual breast cancer research rather than "awareness."

I can appreciate that this can be a difficult balance to find. You do want to raise awareness of the disease, especially since early detection can be helpful in treatment. Creative fundraising can bring in a lot of money. And it's nice for people to feel like they are doing something, even if it is just saving yogurt lids. But are we missing the point? At least one group is suggesting we need more than pink, we need a deadline. The National Breast Cancer Coalition has taken the pink gloves off and set a deadline to find a cure: January 1, 2020.

Despite the frustration, it appears the sea of pink is here for now. But let's continue to highlight research efforts as much as we highlight baseball players with pink bats.

How we talk about food

Two stories from the last week have highlighted the complexities regarding communication about food. The Corn Refiners Association is looking a new word for high-fructose corn syrup, preferring the name corn sugar. But there are a lot of skeptics about the reason for the rebranding, as seen in the comments in the New York Times Health blog. While the Corn Refiners Association says they are looking for a more accurate name, some health advocates think the move is an effort to confuse consumers into thinking corn syrup is healthy.

The other story is about carrots. The baby carrot association is spending $25 million on a new advertising campaign to market the bite-sized carrots as a fun snack, even as fun as junk food. But it seems no matter how much health advocates push vegetables, it seems we are not eating them.

So why is communication about food so difficult? What strategies would you suggest to communicate about healthy food?

Communication through touch

The New York Times Well blog has an interesting discussion today about a recent JAMA essay. In the JAMA essay, a medical student contemplates even and when it is appropriate to hold a patient's hand. Some of the Well commenters were mystified that a medical student would even need to ask if it is appropriate to hold a patient's hand and show compassion. But in the current medical culture, students are taught to be very aware of how actions, even as simple an action as holding a hand, may be viewed.

It is the reality of physician-patient communication, that the physician may always have some level of concern about communication being misconstrued. And this fear has the real potential to limit high-quality communication between physician and patient. All communication involves some risk, the risk of being misunderstood. But a physician taking a risk and offering a hand to a patient at a difficult moment can mean the world to a patient.

Learning to talk the talk

Theresa Brown, a registered nurse and regular contributor to the New York Times wrote an article this week about nurses learning how to talk quickly in emergent patient settings. The style of speech values speed, with elements of persuasion, especially when trying to get a patient a needed bed in the ICU.

But the article does not explore the potential pitfalls of such rapid fire conversation. The possibility of mistakes was acknowledged, but more than mistakes, the rapid conversation can have long term implications for the health of communication between colleagues. Short, clipped conversation does not allow for collaboration or learning and working together to support and care for patients. Certainly there are time when this style may be very necessary, and it does fall on health care workers to learn how to communicate that way. But there is a time for longer, thought out conversations as well, even on a busy hospital floor. We are all better off if health care providers are able to develop multiple communication tools and styles and not just depend on one quick style to get all things done.

Teaching with patients, from the beginning

The New York Times had an article today about a medical school program that is turning the traditional medical student schedule on its head. New York University is now exposing students to patients from their very first day as medical students, rather than waiting until they are third year students as many traditional programs do.

NYU is not the first program to introduce a patient element in the first year of medical school. But such efforts point to medical schools' awareness that the process of medical education can be emotionally draining. Students who lose sight of why they are training to be doctors may find themselves experiencing "empathy erosion." Patient contact from the beginning helps these physicians in training remember they are learning not to treat diseases, but to treat patients.