"I'm just greedy"

Under all the other beliefs there's often a verdict. You eat too much because of what you are. Other people can leave half a sandwich. You've never left half of anything. You think about food more than seems normal, and you suspect you've a bigger appetite than other people and less character.

I'd like to take the verdict apart, because I think it's wrong, and because it makes the habit worse.

Start with appetite. Two American researchers, Michael Lowe and Meghan Butryn, drew a distinction that I find useful. There's hunger that comes from the body needing energy. And there's appetite that comes from good food being present, in someone who doesn't need energy at all. They called the second hedonic hunger. Their argument was that in a world where tasty food is everywhere, a large part of eating is driven by the second kind. That isn't a defect. It's the ordinary response of an ordinary person to being surrounded by things designed to be delicious. They also developed a questionnaire measuring how strongly people feel the pull of food that's nearby, and scores do vary. Some people feel it more than others, the way some feel the cold more.

So you may well be someone on whom food in the room has a stronger pull. That isn't greed. Greed is a moral word, about wanting more than your share at others' expense. Feeling a strong pull from a plate of roast potatoes is a fact about your wiring and your kitchen. It calls for some practical arrangements, and the evidence so far has been that arrangements work. Portions, plates, the reach of the dish and the pace of the meal all have more say than character, in everyone who's been tested.

Now the harm the verdict does. Shame is a poor tool for changing how you eat. Chapter 8 described the pattern. A person who feels they've failed decides they might as well carry on. The harsher the judgement, the bigger the sense of failure, and the more there is to eat away. Shame also pushes eating out of sight. People who feel judged for their appetite take small polite helpings in company and eat the rest standing at the fridge later. Hidden eating is fast and distracted, and you don't enjoy it. It breaks every condition this book has described for noticing enough.

You might worry that without the harsh verdict you'd lose all control. "If I stop being hard on myself, I'll eat everything." I understand the fear. But look at the record. You've been hard on yourself for years, and the extra is still there. The harshness hasn't been working as a brake.

The more accurate description of you is dull and kind. You like food, which is a good trait in a person. You live among large portions and full cupboards. You were taught to clear your plate. Your fullness signals run late, like everyone's. You've probably dieted, which taught you that food is about to be taken away. Put any human being in that position and they'd eat past enough most nights. The job now is to change the arrangements, and your character can be left as it is.