Schaff: A different kind of energy debate

The time might come when an authoritarian nutritionist rules over America. The time might come when an authoritarian nutritionist rules over America. But as we await that “Coup de Broccoli,” university administrators cannot expect bans on unhealthy habits to realize their high-minded goals.

More directly, prohibiting the sale of drinks like Amp or Red Bull on campus is not sensible policy. If Pitt should learn anything from the unfolding debacle at the University of New Hampshire — whose president has suddenly reneged on publicized intentions to ban energy drinks after intense student backlash — it’s that such bans should be kept off the table, at least for now.

The recent energy drink talk stems from the ongoing healthy-living movement led by student affairs personnel across the country, and — it should be said — the guiding principles are good. What the administrators seem to be saying is that society should act to protect and enhance the well-being of its citizens, and that universities — whose influence on society cannot be overstated — can model such compassionate action. With these values in mind, campus policies aimed at discouraging risky behavior become appropriate.

But when it comes to health risks, there’s a line that should be respected: Universities should reserve prohibition, the crudest tool of discouragement, for health risks that are proven to threaten lives. Otherwise, they’re just treating students like babies and, more importantly, denying reality.

Pitt bans smoking indoors — and within 15 feet from campus buildings — because decades of scientific studies have causally linked tobacco with the development of life-threatening maladies. On the other hand, energy drinks, which don’t typically offer more of their primary active ingredient, caffeine, than an 8-ounce cup of coffee does, share no such reputation. Unless mixed with alcohol, energy drinks consumed in moderation have not been demonstrated to lead to severe health problems, at least according to available evidence.

That’s not to say energy drinks are innocuous substances. UNH’s ban-hungry administrators have a reason to target energy drinks: Put simply, they’re not part of a long-term healthy lifestyle. Sure, there’s the high calorie content, the distorted circadian rhythms and — in extreme cases — the risk of caffeine toxicity. But the real danger lies in how energy-drink reliance reinforces harmful imbalances elsewhere. If a student decides to use Amp to avoid the responsible task of balancing his schedule — so as, perhaps, to stay up all night partying but still get decent grades — is the soon-to-be unsustainable behavior the Amp’s fault?

If you’ve read my other columns, the previous statement might strike you as too laissez-faire for my taste — yes, I’ve written free-market heresy words like “safety net” before. You’d also note that unlike Ron Paul, I wouldn’t want the government to let people exercise their “right to die.” Instead, I think it’s appropriate for people to exercise some “right” to make manageable mistakes and then learn from them. Yanking energy drinks from college students’ grasps denies them this opportunity, in an unnecessary and frankly babying manner.

But all this is assuming a ban could even work — those of you who’d bet on it are probably too busy buying Greek bonds anyway. That is, if a university intends to reduce energy drink consumption among students, a campus-wide ban is destined to fall far short.

Consider the following scenario. A university ban might easily empty campus vendors of the hated juice, but producing real reductions in consumption would require somehow convincing off-campus vendors — who would face a huge profit opportunity — to toe the line. And even if the university captured the hearts of local storeowners by promising their children free degrees, students could always bring their debit cards to the Internet. But let’s take it to the extreme: Say the university’s ban garners so positive a public perception that it pushes the FDA to illegalize energy drinks in all 50 states; would students still be reaching for the sugar-caffeine concoctions? In my view, finding the answer isn’t too difficult — one look at the Pitt Police Blotter’s marijuana busts confirms that college students are already happy to purchase illicit consumables on black markets.

Administrators help no one by firing the prohibition cannon whenever a mildly unhealthy habit crosses their sights. They have better options to try. Granted, the real, lasting solution to our unhealthy nation lies in enhancing early childhood education and reducing socioeconomic inequality. But universities shouldn’t feel powerless.

If they truly care about healthier campuses, they can invest in health awareness programs like Pitt’s “Healthy U” initiative, as well as include health-related classes in general education requirements.

And if universities want to brand themselves as innovative, here’s another idea: subsidizing healthy food choices. If Pitt did this, students would bring their grocery receipts to an on-campus office and then get a certain percentage discount in Panther Funds on items deemed “healthy.” Such a policy would incentivize healthy eating while raising the relative cost of shoveling in junk food (which, depending on the views of the consulted nutritionists, could include energy drinks).

How would such a result-oriented incentive program be funded? This could be a problem for other universities, unable to find extraneous, dollar-burning programs to cut. Thankfully, Pitt has the OCC.

That being said, perhaps we have more reason to await the “Coup de Broccoli,” at least if it happens on our campus.

Email Matt Schaff at matthew.schaff@gmail.com.