Back Good Calories, Bad Calories
Chapters (40)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue A Brief History of Banting
  5. Part One
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Part Two
  11. Chapter 5
  12. Chapter 6
  13. Chapter 7
  14. Chapter 8
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Part Three
  21. Chapter 14
  22. Chapter 15
  23. Chapter 16
  24. Chapter 17
  25. Chapter 18
  26. Chapter 19
  27. Chapter 20
  28. Chapter 21
  29. Chapter 22
  30. Chapter 23
  31. Chapter 24
  32. Epilogue
  33. Notes
  34. Bibliography
  35. Acknowledgments
  36. Illustration Credits
  37. A Note About the Author
  38. Also by Gary Taubes
  39. Footnotes
  40. Copyright
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Had Atkins wanted to avoid professional excommunication, he might have published something other than a polemic couched as a diet book. But he was feeling “resentment,” he wrote, “that [he] had been duped so long by misinformation given me in the medical literature.” The Diet Revolution was not just advocating a way to lose weight, which Atkins credited, in any case, to Banting, Pennington, Kekwick, and Pawan, but overthrowing the current nutritional wisdom entirely. Unlike Irwin Stillman, whose 1967 mega–best-seller The Doctor’s Quick Weight Loss Diet was also based on carbohydrate restriction, Atkins wanted “a revolution, not just a diet.” “Martin Luther King had a dream,” Atkins wrote. “I, too, have one. I dream of a world where no one has to diet. A world where the fattening refined carbohydrates have been excluded from the diet.” Atkins deliberately portrayed his diet as diametrically opposed to the growing orthodoxy on the nature of a healthy diet. Whereas Keys had insisted that the solution to obesity was to convince fat people that overeating was a sin and overeating fat would kill them, Atkins said his patients lost “thirty, forty, 100 pounds” eating “lobster with butter sauce, steak with Bearnaise sauce…bacon cheeseburgers….” “As long as you don’t take in carbohydrates,” Atkins wrote, “you can eat any amount of this ‘fattening’ food and it won’t put a single ounce of fat on you.”

Diet Revolution may have been, as its publisher claimed, the fastest-selling book in history. Nonetheless, its “chief consequence,” as John Yudkin noted in 1974, may have been “to antagonize the medical and nutritional establishment.” In fact, Atkins had to antagonize only a very small and select group of men to have a profound and lasting effect on how we think about obesity and weight regulation. In obesity research, particularly in the United States in the 1970s, the established wisdom was determined not by any testing of hypotheses or even establishing of consensus but by the judgment of fewer than a dozen men who dominated the field: Jean Mayer, Fred Stare, Jules Hirsch, George Bray, Theodore Van Itallie, Albert Stunkard, George Cahill, Philip White, and perhaps a few others. (And when these men began to retire from the scene in the 1980s, their younger colleagues—Johanna Dwyer, who received her Ph.D. with Mayer; Francis Xavier Pi-Sunyer, who collaborated with Van Itallie; Kelly Brownell, who worked and studied with Stunkard—assumed the leadership and perpetuated their beliefs.)