Last week, I delivered the Baccalaureate address at my alma mater North Central High School in Indianapolis. This is what I said to the graduates.
I guess the simple question is if we really need another activity tracker. And to that point, do we need one for kids?
We are vulnerable to invasion. Our enemies are not deterred by geopolitical boundaries or border walls, and that puts the entire world at risk—each and every one of us.
The volume of bad answers, bad questions, noise and nonsense conspiring to hide the simple, fundamental truths about diet and health seems to swell daily. The task of generating a signal to be heard over this din grows more challenging in tandem. Among the cries populating the cacophony of misinformation is the contention that we know nothing not directly demonstrated in a randomized controlled trial. Much as I like RCTs, having run and published the results of dozens over my career, I consider this view misguided surrender to the tyranny of trial design.
I have yet to see any installments of the long-running Fast and Furious movie franchise, although my son and I recently agreed we probably should. There is, however, a much longer franchise that I’ve been watching closely throughout my career: the fad and folly franchise, devoted not to fast cars, but fast weight loss and promises of high-octane health, achieved magically and without effort.
Eat your spinach. Go exercise. Take good care of yourself.
Once upon a time, people kept a job for 40 years and then retired with a defined benefit pension. They worked for corporations or rode up the promotion and tenure ladder at universities.