Empty Calories, Empty Minds
What appears as classroom chaos--from fidgeting to daydreaming to suspected ADHD--may actually be the body crying out for better nutrition.
With Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. poised to lead the Department of Health and Human Services, the next four years present a unique opportunity to reexamine the culture of eating in schools. This is not merely about improving federally-funded meals in low-income public schools but about a broader transformation that encompasses all educational institutions. Parents, as the first educators of their children, also have a crucial role to play in reshaping attitudes toward food. By prioritizing healthy choices and understanding which foods to avoid, we can help students become more attentive, less anxious, and less prone to depression. Fortunately, two recent bestselling books, Brain Energy: A Revolutionary Breakthrough in Understanding Mental Health—and Improving Treatment for Anxiety, Depression, OCD, PTSD, and More by Christopher M. Palmer and Good Energy: The Surprising Connection Between Metabolism and Limitless Health by Casey Means, offer valuable insights and recommendations for improving children’s health through better metabolic practices.
At the heart of this movement is the understanding that nutrition is deeply connected to mental and physical well-being. Palmer’s Brain Energy explores the intricate relationships between diet, metabolism, and brain function, providing evidence that poor metabolic health can contribute to conditions like anxiety, depression, and even ADHD. Meanwhile, Means’ Good Energy explores the broader implications of dietary choices, advocating for a lifestyle centered on whole, unprocessed foods and emphasizing the importance of reducing—or eliminating—sugar and artificial additives. Together, these works illuminate how dietary reform can serve as a cornerstone for improving children’s academic performance and emotional resilience.
But let not the rhetoric of reform absolve either the schools or the parents from the years of neglect and complicity in this nutritional debacle. Schools, with their convenient alliances to industrial food providers, have long abdicated responsibility for their students’ health, serving up processed, high-sugar, low-nutrient meals under the guise of budget constraints. The ubiquitous chicken nugget, masquerading as protein, and the cardboard-like pizza slice, passed off as a balanced meal, exemplify the bureaucratic indifference that underpins the school lunch system. And parents, far too many of whom show little regard for providing nutritious lunches or snacks, often default to the path of least resistance: sugary cereals, ultraprocessed snacks, and meals dictated by drive-thru convenience rather than thoughtful consideration of their children’s health.
Palmer, a professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, digs to the root of this crisis, exposing how metabolic dysfunction—driven by poor dietary choices—not only wreaks havoc on the body but also on the mind. In his research, he reveals how the routine consumption of refined carbohydrates, laden with glucose spikes and crashes, sets off a cascade of metabolic chaos that reverberates through the endocrine system. Insulin resistance, a condition once relegated to the realm of adult-onset diabetes, creeps insidiously into the lives of children, warping hormonal signaling that is vital to growth, energy regulation, and cognitive stability. Artificial preservatives, with their unpronounceable names, further exacerbate this toxic symphony, disrupting gut microbiota and, by extension, the gut-brain axis that governs emotional resilience and attentiveness.
The result is a physiological mutiny: Children, their bodies and minds still pliable and in desperate need of nourishment, are instead thrust into a biochemical battleground. Their mitochondria, the powerhouses of cellular energy, become sluggish, choking on a diet devoid of the nutrients needed to fuel proper neuronal function. Neuroinflammation ensues, a silent saboteur of memory and focus, while neurotransmitter production—critical for mood regulation and learning—falters under the weight of malnutrition.
The classroom, meant to be a haven of intellectual growth, becomes a theater of metabolic despair. Students, their brains fogged by systemic glucose dysregulation, fidget in their seats not from ADHD but from blood sugar crashes that mimic its symptoms. They daydream not from lack of interest but from a lack of the essential fatty acids and vitamins needed to maintain sharp neural connections. The irritability and inattentiveness teachers attribute to behavioral problems often have roots in something far more fundamental: a body betrayed by the dietary choices imposed upon it.
Palmer’s findings are damning not just for parents and schools but for a culture that normalizes these failings. The vending machine in the hallway, stocked with high-fructose corn syrup bombs masquerading as snacks; the cafeteria menu, a grim parade of ultraprocessed offerings engineered for palatability over nutrition; the after-school meal of fast food, designed for speed, not sustenance—all these reflect a systemic failure to prioritize children’s health. The implications, as Palmer stresses, are seismic. These aren’t merely issues of waistlines or cholesterol levels; they are crises of cognition, mood, and future potential.
Means, a Stanford-educated surgeon whose pivot from the operating room to the trenches of preventive health marks her as both apostate and visionary, brings a precision honed by years in traditional medicine to dissect the chronic illness epidemic. Her manifesto of hope brims with urgency, yet it is grounded in rigorous science and actionable solutions. Means unflinchingly maps the metabolic sinkholes into which entire generations have stumbled, drawn in by the ease of convenience foods and sugary indulgences. She pulls back the curtain on the insidious interplay of high-fructose corn syrup, refined flours, and synthetic emulsifiers—ingredients engineered not for sustenance but for addiction—showing how they conspire to destabilize insulin levels, inflame the gut, and exhaust the endocrine system.
Her remedy begins with a return to fundamentals. Fresh vegetables, lean proteins, and healthy fats form the cornerstone of a dietary revolution she champions, but Means doesn’t stop at mere substitution. It’s not enough, she warns, to replace neon-colored fruit snacks with organic versions or swap sugary sodas for “natural” alternatives brimming with agave syrup. Such half-measures, while superficially appealing, perpetuate the same metabolic dysfunctions beneath a veneer of health-conscious branding. Means’ prescription calls for a tectonic cultural shift, one that uproots the convenience-driven habits entrenched in modern life.
Central to her vision is the reclamation of the kitchen as a space not just for sustenance but for education and connection. Families, she insists, must rediscover the act of cooking—not as an obligation, but as an opportunity to instill lifelong habits, pass down cultural traditions, and foster genuine intimacy. Means emphasizes the importance of involving children in meal preparation, teaching them the rudiments of knife skills, flavor balancing, and food science. These are lessons, she argues, as vital to their development as arithmetic or reading, because they equip the next generation with tools to resist the allure of ultraprocessed junk and make informed choices in a world teeming with dietary pitfalls.
Schools, meanwhile, must confront their complicity in the current crisis. Means doesn’t mince words when addressing the abysmal state of cafeteria offerings, which she likens to a conveyor belt of edible mediocrity. She advocates for a complete overhaul of the National School Lunch Program, calling for partnerships with local farms, the integration of nutrition education into curricula, and the installation of scratch kitchens capable of producing real food. These aren’t lofty ideals, she insists, but practical necessities if schools are to fulfill their mandate of nurturing the whole child.
On the broader stage, Means takes aim at policymakers and the corporate interests that tether them to the status quo. She lays bare the conflicts of interest that allow food manufacturers to dictate dietary guidelines, flooding grocery shelves with products designed to maximize shelf life and profit margins rather than health. Her critique is incisive: the same companies funding anti-obesity campaigns are profiting from the very foods that drive the epidemic. Breaking these entrenched relationships, Means argues, requires not just regulation but a public groundswell of demand for transparency and accountability.
What makes Means’ approach compelling is its dual nature: it is both deeply personal and profoundly systemic. She challenges individuals to take ownership of their choices while simultaneously demanding structural change. In doing so, she bridges the gap between the micro and the macro, showing that the fight for healthier lives is not merely a battle against bad food but a reclamation of autonomy, dignity, and hope.
Kennedy’s appointment could mark a turning point, but only if accompanied by a collective willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. Parents must acknowledge their roles as gatekeepers and stop outsourcing their children’s nutrition to schools and fast-food chains. Schools must go beyond silly token gestures like “Meatless Mondays”; they must overhaul their procurement processes, invest in culinary education for staff, and incorporate food literacy into the curriculum. Policymakers must resist lobbying pressures and enforce stringent nutritional standards, ensuring that public funds are used to nourish rather than harm.
And yet, as Palmer and Means remind us, change starts at the individual level. Parents must model the behaviors they wish to see in their children, choosing home-cooked meals over convenience foods and teaching their kids the joy of preparation and the science of sustenance. Schools must cultivate environments where the act of eating is not an afterthought but a vital component of the educational experience—a daily opportunity to reinforce lessons about biology, culture, and responsibility.
As Kennedy takes the helm of HHS, his controversial reputation may paradoxically enable bold, unorthodox initiatives. Let this be one of them: a national campaign to transform the culture of eating, to replace the hollow calories of modern life with the sustenance that fuels not just the body, but the mind and spirit. The next four years could redefine what it means to nourish a child, and in doing so, redefine the very future of education and health in America.
Michael S. Rose, a leader in the classical education movement, is author of the New York Times bestseller Goodbye, Goodmen (Regnery), Ugly As Sin (Sophia Institute), The Art of Being Human (Angelico), Benedict XVI: The Man Who Was Ratzinger (Spence), and other books. His articles and op/eds have appeared in dozens of publications including The Wall Street Journal, Epoch Times, New York Newsday, and The Dallas Morning News.