There’s been a lot of ink spilled about the Food and Drug Administration (FDA). Is it keeping American eaters safe? Is Obama right to propose an increase in funding? Should food regulation be more decentralized, or just reduced across the board? Recent outbreaks of food borne illnesses—and figures like those below—have put the issue of food regulation on the front burner.

But the FDA isn’t just responsible for ensuring the safety of our food supply—they are also largely responsible for helping us figure out what’s healthy. It’s no wonder then, that food regulation is such a complex issue fraught with a literal smorgasbord of clashing perspectives and politics.

Rather than jump into that fray, though, this post attempts to re-frame the debate by considering the question at its crux: who’s responsible for what we eat?

For most Americans, this is a strange question. It’s nearly impossible to “know your food.” Ours is perhaps the most decentralized food system in history, and as a result, it’s awfully difficult to know who produced what ends up on our plates. Having a regulatory agency that can ensure our food is fit to eat seems to make sense. With this in mind, it’s no wonder we’re now asking: how much funding and authority should we give the organization that holds food producers accountable?

Joel Salatin

But a growing subculture of eaters—from progressive Slow Food adherents to fans of the libertarian farmer, writer, and celebrity, Joel Salatin—argue that it’s ultimately each eater’s own responsibility to judge what is and is not fit to eat. They view a large bureaucracy as simply getting in the way. After all, we are a culture built on basic, individual, unalienable freedoms—and the responsibilities those freedoms entail.

A lot more ink could be spilled debating the finer philosophical points on each side. But, again, it may be more helpful to pick a concrete example of how this debate plays out by looking at one, seemingly simple question: how do we know if the foods we’re eating are good for us?

We’ve all probably picked up an item at the supermarket and wondered, “is this good for me?” Some of us have probably looked at back of package (BOP) Nutrition Facts and Ingredients labels. Many of us have probably glanced at front of package (FOP) health claims like “Low in Sodium,” “Builds strong bones,” “Aids in digestion,” etc.

Both the front and back of food packages are regulated by the FDA. BOP info is pretty orderly and standardized—with clean lines and uniform black type. By contrast, FOP info can make you feel like you’re walking through a carnival—with vendors hawking just about any idea they think you’ll buy. In fact, a few commentators have described FOP labeling as a Wild West, where there are some laws but no emphasis on enforcing them.

In reality, there are laws regulating FOP labeling, with the FDA monitoring three different types of claims:

• Health claims. These refer to a direct connection between an ingredient/food and a reduced risk of disease or certain health conditions. These claims carry the most stringent regulation and are the hardest for companies to use because they must be pre-approved by the FDA.
• Nutrition claims. These refer to specific nutrient amounts in food and whether they are above or below FDA guidelines. These guidelines are fairly straightforward, i.e. you can only claim a product is “low in sodium” if it has below 140 mg per serving.
• Structure/Function claims. These are what people are referring to when they call FOP labeling the Wild West. Structure/function claims describe the role a nutrient or ingredient plays in the maintenance of your body’s structures or functions. For example: “calcium builds strong bones” or “[fill in the blank] helps promote cell integrity.” (What cell integrity actually means, I have no idea…). The FDA stipulates: “The manufacturer is responsible for ensuring the accuracy and truthfulness of these claims; they are not pre-approved by FDA but must be truthful and not misleading.”

Yes, you read that correctly: the food manufacturer is responsible for monitoring structure/function claims that will directly impact their products’ sales. Nutrition and Food Industry expert, Marion Nestle, has done a great job calling attention to this conflict of interest in her books, blogs, and articles.

It’s no wonder, then, that the non-partisan Government Accountability Office (GAO) issued a report back in January identifying the need for a better way to regulate health claims. Specifically, they called on the FDA to better regulate structure/function claims by improving their rules, guidelines, and monitoring efforts. The report also supported giving the FDA the power to require hard evidence from companies that are making structure/function claims, and suggested the FDA needed more funding in order to make this happen.

The GAO released another report in early March calling on the federal government to simplify our system of food regulation. Specifically, they cited the need to consolidate the more than 15 different governmental bodies—and streamline the 30 or so laws—that have a role to play in both keeping our food safe and ensuring that products are what they advertise.

Both reports address slightly different issues emanating from the same root problem: the food industry is a $1.6 trillion dollar behemoth, with 310 million consumers and a dizzying array of distribution channels, transportation/storage systems, and point-of-sale formats. We haven’t yet figured out how to efficiently and effectively regulate something so immense.

Which brings us full circle back to that fundamental question: are we ultimately responsible for what we put in our bodies? Or is it some (or all) of those 15 underfunded, understaffed, under-mandated governmental bodies? As you think about the answer to that question, consider this: the USDA has one staffer for every 41,135 meat eaters in the US. That means they’re each responsible for inspecting 8,227,000 pounds of edible meat a year.

Is there an alternative to our Byzantine system of food regulation? In short: yes. But only if we change the way our country approaches food. And not simply if we throw more money at the problem. Here’s an anecdote that illustrates the point:

A friend of mine has spent a lot of time reading up on the links between diet and disease—he recently learned that a relative was diagnosed with cancer and wanted to read up on ways to help her fight it. He mentioned that a lot of the advice he’s coming across—eat more vegetables, less meat, more whole grains—is advice he’d heard from his mother when he was still a kid. He grew up well before the USDA released its Food Pyramid, before the IOM released its recommendations on saturated fat and cholesterol, and before dieting became a fad. But the advice he got when he was young sounds a lot like what the latest anti-cancer research seems to be promoting: eat balanced meals, not too many sweets, and lots and lots of vegetables.

For him and millions of others, advice from family and friends carries a special weight. And it’s not simply because the advice is being validated by the latest scientific research. Rather, it’s because there’s a clear connection between the individual and his or her community—and a clear sense of accountability—which does not exist between a food product and the bureaucracy.

In other words: my friend eats the local farmer’s blueberries because his mother told him to. But the blueberry-infused tea that claims to fight cancer? He’ll pass.

In many ways, our current system of food regulation is an attempt to revive the connection between food, individual and community. But is it worth the billions of dollars, the loss of competition, and the stifling of innovation at the grassroots level that results from a regulatory system that favors big interests?

We may not have the time (or money) to find out.

The above anecdote shows, however, that our friends, family, and the food producers around us can reduce the need for complex regulatory infrastructure. Our community really can help us eat more healthfully by restoring the connection between us and our food. Those closest to use—and not those furthest away—can play a crucial role in helping us eat better. Together.

Max Haines-Stiles is the Founder & CEO of Foodia.com, a startup building web and mobile apps to help people navigate the big world of food.