In January, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., secretary of health and human services, issued a new “food pyramid,” the required five-year update entitled the “2025–2030 Dietary Guidelines for Americans.”

The new food pyramid is a significant change from previous federal nutritional guidance that was grounded on decades of evidence-based nutritional and metabolic research. The new pyramid is considered an “upside-down” version of previous models, including the more recent “MyPlate” adaptation. It prioritizes protein, healthy fats, vegetables, and fruits at the wide top and positions whole grains at the bottom narrow tip.

Kennedy developed the new guidance out of public view, using a panel appointed by him rather than utilizing traditional independent expert input. Kennedy has criticized previous recommendations as being influenced by the food industry; yet half of the members of his new panel have financial relationships with the food, beef, dairy, and supplement industries.

Consistent with Kennedy’s previous health recommendations (for example, the childhood vaccine schedule, COVID and influenza recommendations, and Tylenol use in pregnancy), portions of the new guidelines are confusing and conflictual, emphasizing research consistent with his views while ignoring or minimizing unsupportive research.

That said, there are many positive aspects to the new pyramid, and it adds detail never before included. Kennedy’s pyramid:

• Emphasizes whole, minimally processed foods and strongly discourages ultra-processed and packaged foods high in added salt and with chemical additives, including artificial flavorings, nitrites, petroleum-based dyes, and artificial preservatives.
• Encourages fruits and vegetables, which contain fiber, micronutrients, and anti-inflammatory components.
• Strongly discourages refined grains and other refined carbohydrates, sugary drinks, and other foods high in added sugar and “junk foods.”
• Promotes healthy fats from olives, avocados, nuts, and seeds.
• Supports cooking oils that contain essential fatty acids; examples include olive oil and canola oil.

However concerningly, the new pyramid:

• Recommends greater amounts of protein at every meal than previously recommended. This includes proteins from plant sources such as beans, legumes, and nuts, as well as animal proteins from poultry and seafood, but also from eggs and red meat. There is little evidence that higher protein intake provides health benefits other than in strength training. It can even lead to worsening of chronic kidney disease and conversion to visceral fat, which increases diabetes risk in some people.

My concern with eggs and red meat is that they contain high amounts of saturated fat, which can lead to cardiovascular and cerebrovascular atherosclerosis. Decades of research confirm this.

Kennedy states, nonetheless, that “We are ending the war on saturated fats.” Saturated fat from animal sources, including red meat, eggs, butter, and beef tallow, is emphasized and considered one of the healthy fats. But the new guidelines send mixed messaging by simultaneously advising that saturated fat remain below the previously recommended 10% of total calories.

• Emphasizes full-fat dairy such as whole milk and cheese. Again, my concern is with the amount of saturated fats in whole dairy products. However, concern over the consumption of whole-fat dairy in people without cholesterol problems is somewhat controversial.

These are more than just guidelines; they also form policy frameworks for nutritional programs accepting federal funding.

Endorsements by the American Medical Association, the American Academy of Pediatrics, and the American College of Cardiology carefully highlight only the positive aspects of the new nutritional guidelines as outlined above.

Although there are many positive aspects to the new nutritional guidelines, I remain uneasy, mostly about the new pyamid’s promotion of saturated fats.

Dr. Richard Feldman is an Indianapolis family physician and the former state health commissioner. Send comments to editorial@therepublic.com.

I can catch a plane, a ball, a cold and the flu, but the one thing I can’t catch is home improvement skills.

I recently painted a small bathroom cabinet. The project took three days, not including 11 trips to the big box hardware store.

Meanwhile, on six different cable channels, people with home improvement skills ripped out small half-baths and replaced them with master baths featuring double sinks, heated floors, lighted mirrors, saunas and walk-in showers large enough to wash a team of Clydesdales. What’s more, they did it all in under 60 minutes.

This week, my inner home-improvement self was prompted to redo the shelf paper in the kitchen cabinets. I upped my game thinking I could try peel-and-stick vinyl tile. I asked a clerk if it was hard to cut vinyl tile. He guffawed and said all I’d need is a knife.

The man in the blue vest lied. After leaving a small trail of blood from the kitchen to the bathroom medicine cabinet, I returned the vinyl squares and bought peel-and-stick shelf paper.

Peel-and-stick lives up to its name. You peel and it sticks — to you, your clothes, your scissors, your hair, the sides of the cabinets, the tops of the cabinets and to every other inch of peel-and-stick in a 3-mile range.

My skill set deficiencies are not new. In seventh grade, girls took home economics and boys took industrial arts. Boys made projects with hammers and saws. Girls learned how to sew a shift. A shift is a dress resembling a pillowcase with an armhole on each side and a zipper in the back. Our teacher Miss Grove, the first person I ever knew to wear contact lenses, made me rip my zipper out and put it in again. Miss Grove blinked her eyes a lot.

The fourth time Miss Grove told me to rip out the zipper and try again, I had to buy a new zipper. Miss Grove’s eyes blinked faster and faster each time she checked my work. Eventually, the entire left side of her face began twitching wildly.

Being that our school was progressive, for one week the boys took home ec and the girls took shop. I was sure I would do well in shop. My dad knew how to build; my brother knew how to build. Surely, I could build, too.

We made letter holders — three pieces of wood, nailed and glued together. At some point in the process, we were to put the letter holder in a vice. I crushed it.

Literally.

The shop teacher had me try again with new pieces of wood. As he watched over my shoulder, he took the soon-to-be letter holder from my hands, finished it, put it in the vice and said I could watch the glue dry.

Those sorts of experiences might set a lot of people back, but not me.

I remain a home improvement visionary — albeit without the skills or tools.

Lori Borgman is a columnist, author and speaker. Send comments to editorial@therepublic.com.

I am looking for a little bit of peace and quiet. If you are away from home, it’s now a rare commodity. Screens and blaring speakers are everywhere. It almost doesn’t matter where you go—restaurants, airports, doctors’ offices, stores—we are inundated with screens and noise. You can’t even escape them in your car. I doubt you can buy a new car without an infotainment center larger than the first television I owned. Not to mention the little screens we carry in our pockets everywhere we go.

If you are thinking this can’t be good for us, you’re correct. Recent studies have concluded that scores on intelligence tests are on the decline in developed nations. For decades, IQs had been on the rise in the same nations. But after the proliferation of smart phones, intelligence scores have been on the decline. Scholars and scientists attribute this alarming trend to too much time spent on screens, leading to shorter attention spans and a weakening of our reading and writing skills.

I also don’t think this is good for our mental health. Human beings need peace and quiet. We also need to socialize. If there is an 8-foot big screen television 2 feet from our faces and speakers blasting away constantly, how are we supposed to have civil conversations?

When I go out, I usually don’t want to watch television unless there is a big game. When going to a restaurant or bar, I’m usually there to catch up with friends and family, maybe to listen to music. The worst is when a television set is left on one of the propaganda networks posing as news. I don’t need those nitwits on a constant loop reminding me of all the troubles we are facing in the world when I am trying to have a relaxing meal. Maybe you are thinking that I am just a cranky middle-aged curmudgeon who is out of step with the latest trends and technology. Well, you are completely right.

Thanks to the incompetence of an airline, I once spent the night on the floor of the Dallas airport. But don’t worry, they left every single television on to keep the passengers company. They were all tuned to the same insipid cable news feed which was on repeat every 30 minutes, interrupted only by advertisements for the latest and greatest drugs and reverse mortgages. And of course, the volume was turned up to 11. I had no sleep for our ridiculous flight to Indianapolis by way of Oklahoma City and Philadelphia. It’s enough that I always have ear plugs and a sleep mask whenever I travel now. Maybe I should just wear them all of the time.

I really can’t understand why there are so many televisions, flashing lights, and constant music at sporting events. At most professional and college games, it’s a constant barrage of videos, replays, ads, and clips of annoying music. Heaven forbid that I want to ask my neighbor if they want more popcorn or if that last foul call was legit. This may surprise you, but when I go to a game, I want to watch the game—not highlights and ads on a massive jumbotron.

It is a stimulus overload, an assault on our senses. It’s wrecking our nerves, making it impossible to connect socially and dumbing us down. When I wake up the next morning from an evening out, my ears are ringing, my head hurts, and my eyes are bloodshot. All of that without drinking a drop of booze.

Aaron Miller is a community columnist for The Republic. Send comments to editorial@therepublic.com.