The Avocado, The Cereal and The Agency That Failed to Stick

 

Did you happen to notice the headline on the May 11 Wall Street Journal video clip about Food and Drug Administration plans to update its definition of “healthy” used in evaluating foods?

The agency is pushing significant reforms to the definition and its nutrition facts label for the first time since they were conceived two decades ago, and reflected the outdated eating habits and data of the 1970s and 1980s. In its reporting of the move to “modernize” the definition, the video exposed a flaw with the current rules which say that the quantity—and not the type—of fat determines whether foods are unhealthy. Sugar content also isn’t considered. The headline read, “FDA: Frosted Flakes Healthier Than an Avocado.”

The clip, along with its headline, was picked up by dozens of websites, including national media outlets, regional newspapers, wellness advocates, and bloggers.

It clearly struck a nerve, eliciting comments like, “The FDA is a joke,” “What do we have a bunch of morons working there?” and “How could we ever trust these people?” Other comments were laced with expletives, condemned the stupidity of “Big Food’s mafia-style business,” and accused the agency of being under the spell of biotech giant Monsanto.

Meanwhile, the FDA was preparing an announcement of its own, heralding upgrades to its nutrition label that included a requirement to disclose “added sugars.” In its May 20 news release, it opted for the considerably more sterile, “FDA modernizes Nutrition Facts label for packaged foods.” That was followed by, “Refreshed design and relevant information will help consumers make healthy food choices,” falling flat against the pithy WSJ banner and its sardonic tone. Unsurprisingly, it did not resonate in the same way. A scripted quote from the commissioner buried in the release, “We’ve reached an important milestone,” seemed to fizzle in the wake of the angry comments.

Bureaucrats have a predilection for the anemic, often crafting text in the punishing jargon of their trade. It is, perhaps, sometimes human nature to gravitate toward the comfort of the mundane, settling on a risk-free whimper instead of seizing a lush idea in all its biting, vivid glory.

But the WSJ headline had all the trappings of an enduring message—visual imagery, revelation, clarity and boldness. It also had something else: conflict. It was a story that got people engaged.

It’s what Made to Stick authors Chip and Dan Heath call…stickiness. That’s the state of being memorable, and capable of compelling someone to change behavior permanently, such as deciding to never trust the FDA again. Their six principles of sticky ideas are based on simplicity, unexpectedness, concreteness, credibility, emotions, and stories.

One of their oft-quoted anecdotes involves Art Silverman, who was tasked with communicating to moviegoers that their bag of popcorn was appallingly unhealthy as part of his work with the Center for Science in the Public Interest. He had learned that the typical bag had 37 grams of saturated fat—far exceeding the government recommendation of 20 grams or less a day. He surmised that a decent-sized bucket could be in the triple digits.

But knowing that most people don’t know how to contextualize “37 grams of saturated fat,” he felt challenged. It was then that he crafted his message.

It went like this: “A medium-sized ‘butter’ popcorn at a typical neighborhood movie theater contains more artery-clogging fat than a bacon-and-eggs breakfast, a Big Mac and fries for lunch, and a steak dinner with all the trimmings — combined!”

With the help of some visuals, the message resonated broadly, featured on the major networks and carried on the front pages of major newspapers. Moviegoers shunned the popcorn and sales dwindled. Theater chains announced they would stop using the coconut oil responsible for driving up the fat content.

The idea, needless to say, stuck.

It’s possible the FDA fell victim to what the authors call “the Curse of Knowledge,” when possessing knowledge makes it difficult to understand what it’s like not to possess it— impeding the ability to understand what’s in an audience’s mind. Sometimes, a message needs to acknowledge mistrust an audience has with the message bearer.

It’s possible WSJ viewers were more upset about the current rules than they were optimistic about any changes. It’s possible they won’t even remember what the changes are. For some, the only surviving idea may be that our government once believed that a bowl of children’s sugar cereal was healthier than an avocado.