Nobody loves a science project more than a big corporation.
Start with a hypothesis. Then spend millions of dollars convincing consumers that it’s true.
Last week, Chicago-based Wrigley Co., which controls 63 percent of the chewing-gum market, unveiled the multimillion-dollar Wrigley Science Institute.
The institute does not aim to cure cancer or even address bird flu, the over- reported story that has everyone so needlessly terrified.
Wrigley says it “is committed to advancing and sharing scientific knowledge about the benefits of chewing gum.”
“Studies have shown that the act of chewing gum increases blood flow to the brain by at least 25 percent,” the company said in a news release. “In addition, research has shown that chewing gum appears to improve people’s ability to retain and retrieve information. Teachers, intrigued by this, have in some cases reversed traditional policies against chewing gum in class.”
Anything to get kids through state-mandated testing. But wait! There’s more!
Wrigley claims chewing gum will help people lose weight and reduce stress. It has hired Gilbert Leveille, “one of the world’s most respected nutrition and food science professionals,” to prove it.
“We rarely think about (gum’s) potential benefits,” Leveille said in the press release. “Not long ago, the same could have been said about drinking water, but today we know how important and beneficial it is to overall well-being.”
I don’t recall reading about the health benefits of water until companies began selling it for $1 a bottle. And what’s really better for athletes? Water or Gatorade?
“Having athletes follow an individualized hydration program, which includes the consumption of a properly formulated sports drink, is one of the most effective ways … to help keep athletes safe and performing at their best,” concludes research touted on Gatorade’s website.
In 1993, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration began allowing consumer-product companies to make health claims, provided they are backed by extensive research studies reviewed by experts (who are often paid by large corporations).
In 1997, this led to a claim by Quaker Oats that oatmeal is good for the heart.
Now, I do not wish to suggest that any company named after Quakers would stretch the truth. But, to be precise, Quaker’s claim states, “Soluble fiber from oatmeal as part of a low-saturated fat, low- cholesterol diet may reduce the risk of heart disease.”
“May?”
Might the same be said of sand or sawdust if it too is part of a “low-saturated fat, low-cholesterol diet”? Isn’t the real problem staying on the diet?
And then there’s Big Tobacco. In 1954, tobacco companies created the Council for Tobacco Research with the stated mission of finding out whether smoking was dangerous. An internal memo that surfaced years later said the real mission was to promote smoking, “creating doubt about the health charge without actually denying it, and advocating the public’s right to smoke, without actually urging them to take up the practice.”
A 1993 Wall Street Journal article dubbed it “the longest-running misinformation campaign in U.S. business history.” But it wasn’t closed down until 1999 amid a flurry of anti-tobacco litigation.
Smoking, of course, is far more habit- forming and obnoxious than chewing gum. But consumers like to feel good about what they are consuming, and now the Wrigley Science Institute is here to help.
“People are looking for rational support to justify their emotional and psychological desires,” said John Baker, chief executive of DZP Marketing Communications in New York City. “Perceived scientific validity is a powerful marketing tool. For example, no one in America has the slightest clue what Retsyn is, but everyone knows it makes Certs more effective.”
Greg Gorman, a former brand manager for Budweiser who now runs Commotion LLC in Golden, thinks Wrigley is wasting valuable advertising dollars.
“A company with 63 percent of the gum market should be smarter than that,” Gorman said. “Gum might have some good effects, but nobody buys gum because it’s good for you.”
Al Lewis’ column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Friday. Respond to Lewis at , 303-820-1967, or alewis@denverpost.com.
