Safe Food: The Politics of Food Safety (23 page)

Because regulatory approaches to food safety are endlessly obstructed, and educational approaches do not address underlying causes, the food industry and some health officials urge more immediate action: irradiate foods to kill pathogens. Here is how Dr. Michael Osterholm, a leading national expert on foodborne illness, explains the meaning of the Hudson ground beef recall discussed in
chapter 3
:

The current recall reinforces the impression that government can fully protect us against contamination of our food supply, and that when problems do occur, they’ll quickly be fixed. The truth is quite the opposite. . . . Routine testing of the product will not provide us with a reliable way to detect every single episode of contamination. . . . There is one major step we, as a society, can take toward producing safer food. The answer is irradiation.
¹⁷

Dr. Osterholm and many others fully agree that irradiation kills unwanted microbes. It uses the elements cobalt-60 and cesium-137 or electric current as sources of gamma rays, x-rays, or electron beams to bombard foods. These rays disrupt the genetic material (DNA) of cells in proportion to the intensity of the source element and the length of exposure. Lower or shorter bouts of radiation reduce the number of microbes on a food; higher and longer exposures can kill all of them.

Contrary to the belief of some critics, irradiation does not cause the foods themselves to become radioactive, and its physical effects on food are not so different from those induced by cooking (which also disrupts cell structures). High-intensity irradiation induces minor losses of nutrients as well as slight changes in color, flavor, and odor, particularly in fatty meats. Whether these changes matter depends on point of view. Proponents of irradiation view taste disadvantages as minor in comparison to the ravages of
E. coli
O157:H7. From the perspective of science-based risk assessment, the benefits of food irradiation far outweigh taste considerations.
¹⁸

The sterility induced by irradiation, however, is usually incomplete and temporary. The foods must be irradiated in intact packages; once the packages are opened or damaged, foods can become recontaminated. Thus, irradiated foods must be handled like fresh foods and may need to be refrigerated to retard bacterial growth. Even so, this process confers substantial advantages to food producers and processors. They no longer need to be concerned about
preventing
contamination, because irradiation takes care of whatever pathogens are present. It also extends
shelf life; irradiated strawberries, for example, can last 22 days on the shelf instead of the usual 3 to 5 days.
¹⁹

Despite such advantages, the process is highly controversial and has been slow to gain acceptance. The very idea of irradiation induces dread and outrage, not least because it involves radiation, a foreign and personally uncontrollable technology. It also cannot guarantee sterility, and it treats rather than prevents safety problems. At best, irradiation is an end-stage technological fix.

The controversy is best understood in historical context. During World War II, the U.S. Army discovered that irradiated ground beef stayed fresh longer. Companies developed methods for commercial use by the late 1950S, but a congressional act in 1958 classified irradiation as, of all things, a food additive. This meant that companies had to prove the safety of irradiated foods before the FDA would authorize their sale. Because the companies thought the public would not accept such foods, they did not bother to press for approval.

In the early 1960S, the FDA began to authorize irradiation for limited use, one food at a time: first wheat and wheat flour; then spices, dried vegetable seasonings, pork, and chicken products for the general public; and then steak and turkey for astronauts. In turn, the USDA authorized irradiation for pork, poultry, and beef. Both agencies work to expand this list. In 2002, for example, the USDA proposed to permit Hawaii to export irradiated peppers, eggplants, mangoes, pineapples, squash, and tomatoes to the mainland.
²⁰
Overall, more than 35 countries have approved irradiation as a means to preserve more than 50 different kinds of foods. Numerous national and international organizations have endorsed the process, among them health and food technology associations and—most enthusiastically—groups representing irradiation companies.

In the United States, the FDA requires irradiated foods to be labeled “treated with (or by) radiation” and to display the international symbol of irradiation—the radura—printed in green. As shown in
figure 9
, the radura symbol resembles the logo of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and is meant to reassure the public that irradiated foods are ecologically correct, or “green.” As we will see, supporters of irradiation say that any disclosure of the process is contrary to the public interest, and they consistently demand more favorable labeling requirements or—preferably—none at all.

Because fears of public disapproval inhibited development of the irradiation industry, the first multipurpose commercial food plant did not open until 1991. In 1994, Isomedix, a New Jersey company with 16 plants that irradiate medical devices and food packaging materials, petitioned the FDA to authorize irradiation of raw beef and lamb. Cattlemen strongly supported the petition and discussed the matter with their friends in Congress. Congress, in turn, pressured the USDA and FDA to come to a rapid decision. In 1997, during the period when USDA Secretary Dan Glickman was attempting to convince the Senate agriculture committee that his department should be allowed to issue mandatory recalls of contaminated meat, the senators “reacted skeptically, saying the plan would impose unnecessary new regulations when the focus should be on emerging technology like irradiation.”
²¹
that irradiate medical devices and food packaging materials, petitioned the FDA to authorize irradiation of raw beef and lamb. Cattlemen strongly supported the petition and discussed the matter with their friends in Congress. Congress, in turn, pressured the USDA and FDA to come to a rapid decision. In 1997, during the period when USDA Secretary Dan Glickman was attempting to convince the Senate agriculture committee that his department should be allowed to issue mandatory recalls of contaminated meat, the senators “reacted skeptically, saying the plan would impose unnecessary new regulations when the focus should be on emerging technology like irradiation.”
²¹

FIGURE 9
. The friendly radura symbol of irradiation used on food package labels is shown on the left. Perhaps by coincidence, its color (green) and design resemble the logo of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, shown at right.

Other groups also advocated approval of irradiation, charging that opposition to it was antiscientific. For example, Elizabeth Whelan of the industry-supported American Council on Science and Health (ACSH), proposed a much friendlier euphemism for the process in an article in the
Wall Street Journal:

Pasteurization through irradiation is safe and effective and is used in other countries and in the U.S. for pork, poultry, and other foods. . . . Antitechnology advocates . . . are circulating unfounded claims that irradiation poses a health hazard. . . . It is time for all of us to stop responding to the scaremongers. We must listen, instead, to scientists, who are unanimous in their conclusion that food irradiation—not more government regulation—will make America’s food supply even safer.
²²

The Produce Marketing Association, an industry trade group, also supported irradiation for reasons of both science
and
values, in this case the value of “consumer choice”: “Sound science must be the basis for decisions about all food issues. . . . Irradiation has been deemed to be a safe and viable
technology . . . providing consumers the choice in the marketplace.” Such statements, as we have seen, mistakenly equate safety (a scientific concept) with acceptability (a social concept). Meat industry officials, while lobbying for approval of irradiation, wanted to make sure that using it would not increase their accountability for foodborne illness: “Irradiation . . . is particularly important for ground beef . . . but the ultimate responsibility for food safety still rests with the food handler and preparer.”
²³

The FDA delayed approval of irradiation for beef and lamb, not only because its approval processes are always slow, but also because its staff still needed to evaluate the effects of the process on meat from sheep as well as cattle and on fresh cuts as well as those that had been refrigerated and frozen. While the FDA was plugging along on its proposals for these rules, Congress passed the Food and Drug Administration Modernization Act of 1997 which, among other things, restricted the agency’s ability to regulate irradiated foods: “No provision . . . shall be construed to require on the label or labeling of a food a separate radiation disclosure statement that is more prominent than the declaration of ingredients,” and “FDA must act on petition within 60 days of enactment or provide to House and Senate an explanation of the process followed . . . and the reasons action on the petition was delayed.”
²⁴
Congress, therefore, insisted that the FDA allow food labels to disclose irradiation in very small type and approve irradiation requests within months rather than years.

Under that kind of pressure, the FDA immediately authorized irradiation of beef and lamb, explaining that the process “will not present a toxicological hazard, will not present a microbiological hazard, and will not adversely affect the nutritional adequacy of such products.” The American Meat Institute hailed the approval as “a victory for consumers and the red meat industry.”
²⁵
Rodney Leonard of the Community Nutrition Institute (CNI) offered a different opinion. Although he firmly opposed HACCP (as noted in
chapter 3
), he also opposed irradiation:

In addition to blaming the victim, government and industry are proposing a quick fix—food irradiation—to a problem of official neglect and industry abuse. . . . Bombarding contaminated foods with gamma rays will not improve public health, however, because it does not remove the feces of cattle and poultry. . . . The treatment is the only measure which government and industry can adopt which will not require the food supply to be cleaned up.
²⁶

Food safety advocate Carol Tucker Foreman succinctly reinforced this last point in a comment to
Consumer Reports:
“After all, sterilized poop is still poop.”
²⁶

Despite such opposition, pressures to hide irradiation from consumers continued. In 2002, Congress passed the Farm Security and Rural Investment Act, mostly to authorize $190 billion in price supports for basic farm commodities, but also to equate irradiation (a radiation process) with pasteurization (usually understood as a heat process). The act requires the FDA to allow food labels to use
pasteurized
for any process that reduces pathogens in meat and poultry and to substitute this term for irradiation. This creative idea originated with Tom Harkin (Dem-IA), chair of the Senate agriculture committee, and a representative of the state housing the nation’s largest irradiation plant for ground beef.
²⁷
Even with such legislation, it is not clear whether the public will accept irradiated foods. Some experts believe that people will simply refuse to buy irradiated products; this possibility makes food producers so nervous that they all “want to be second to try it.”
²⁸
Some companies deliberately appeal to distrust of irradiation by advertising their products as nonirradiated. Fears of consumer resistance easily explain why the industry and its supporters pressed so forcefully for more attractive euphemisms such as “ionizing pasteurization” or “cold pasteurization.” Will euphemisms convince people to buy irradiated products? Surveys reveal that at least half of consumers do not like
any
term for irradiation.
²⁹

Other surveys, however, report the public to be relatively unconcerned about this process, leading its proponents to reassure the food industry that consumers will readily accept irradiated foods. One report to industry (costing $75 a copy) promises readers that most consumers think irradiation will prevent foodborne illness and reduce disease risk (85–90%) and that most would buy irradiated products even if they were labeled as such (80%). The report quotes the president of the Food Marketing Institute: “Food irradiation is one safety tool whose time has come! . . . As an industry, we must also have the courage to support irradiated food products in the marketplace. . . . We must not let those who are afraid to let consumers make their own judgments use misinformation and scare tactics to win arguments they would lose on the scientific merits of the issues.”
³⁰

Cost considerations, however, are likely to influence levels of outrage about this method, as may euphemistic labels so small as to be unnoticeable. Food technologists believe that when informed of the benefits of irradiation, the public will buy treated foods even if they cost more, as they most certainly will. Irradiation is expensive because of the equipment, the labels, and the transport from centralized facilities; the higher costs will be passed along to consumers. In 1997, USDA economists estimated
that the cost to the beef industry alone could range from $28 million to $89 million annually, or from about 1.6 cents to 5 cents a pound. Although the costs to society of foodborne illness greatly exceed such amounts, and the additional price seems too small to make any difference to individual consumers, market comparisons suggest that a 10% premium for irradiated products would cause the proportion of people who might choose them to drop from 43% to 19%.
³¹