Mayor Bloomberg vs. Big Gulp
New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg has been on a yearslong crusade against obesity, or at least against the cultural and commercial forces that promote it. In his latest step, he’s proposing to ban the sale of super- size sugary drinks by restaurants, cinemas, street vendors and stadium concessionaires. The move exemplifies the tension between individual liberty and societal responsibility that’s particularly acute in the field of public health. Americans cherish their freedom to live as they choose, without “nanny state” dictates from the government. But, because they’re not willing to deny medical care to people who urgently need it, society has to pick up the tab for those who make heedless choices. Striking the right balance between the two will be one of government’s central challenges, as rising health care costs put an increasing strain on budgets.
Almost everything government does restricts the freedom of the governed in some way. Spending programs have to be paid for with taxes that leave people less money to use as they see fit. Laws limit what people can do without risking fines, lawsuits or incarceration. People tend to accept these limits without complaint when there’s a clear connection to public safety and civil order, or a clear benefit from the spending that’s proportionate to the cost.
The support weakens when the connection to public safety isn’t so clear or benefits are more abstract. For example, seat belt laws are widely supported: They save lives and reduce injuries. But when the federal government lowered the speed limit on all interstate highways to 55 miles per hour in 1974, numerous states insisted that there was no public safety reason for such a low limit in rural areas.
Similarly, the public accepts some governmental intrusion into what people eat and drink. There is an assortment of restrictions on alcoholic beverages, including a minimum drinking age, drunk- driving laws and regulations governing when and where liquor may be advertised. There are food safety standards and nutritional mandates on school lunch programs. Manufacturers have to list the ingredients, calorie and fat content of packaged foods. Local governments increasingly demand the same kinds of disclosures from restaurants.
But telling the average person that he has to eat X or cannot eat Y intrudes on decisions that consumers make with their own dollars that affect just their own bodies. That’s what makes even a relatively tame proposal such as Bloomberg’s big- cup ban so controversial. Bloomberg’s proposal would outlaw the sale of sweetened drinks larger than 16 ounces. But somewhat arbitrarily, it wouldn’t apply to groceries or convenience stores, to calorieladen lattes or fruit juices, or even to restaurants that offered two 16- ounce sodas for the price of one.
The mayor’s initiative also rests on a shaky scientific foundation. Researchers have found that people who regularly drink soda are more likely to be overweight, and that those who increase their soda intake have a greater chance of becoming obese and diabetic. But there’s little data to support the idea that a ban on large cups and bottles of sugary beverages would make a real difference in obesity, especially a ban as porous as this one.
With no precedents to show the effectiveness of Bloomberg’s approach, a better way to balance the competing interests of public health and personal choice would be to require more effective disclosure about the calories in soda and a more aggressive effort to educate the public about the associated risks and costs.