There are moments in life that make you doubt the reality of natural selection. One of them arrives every weekday morning when I walk into a classroom heavy with the stench of industrial margarine and unwashed adolescent sweat. The source of the miasma is always the same: the wheezing zeppelins of rancid lard who anchor themselves to chairs with the solemn dignity of dying cattle. They breathe through their mouths. They blink slowly. They twitch in anticipation of the next golden syrup sandwich that some degenerate parent has shoved into their lunchbox along with four fizzy drinks and a note explaining their gluten intolerance.

The school nurse tells us it’s body positivity. The truth is, it’s bodily surrender.

It’s not just the smell. It’s the sound—the asthmatic rasp of the obese trying to oxygenate six stone of surplus tissue. It’s the look—the spongy limbs, the trousers that wheeze against the thighs, the persistent dampness that hints at fungal decay. They are slow. They are dim. They speak with crumbs in their mouths. They haven’t read a book since Year 7, and their only exercise is smacking buttons on a greasy Xbox controller while their pancreas begs for mercy.

I am not like them. And I will not be like them. Because I eat differently. I live differently.

The modern Western diet is a biochemical fraud. For half a century, public health officials—helped along by pharmaceutical conglomerates, and sugar-funded “scientists”—have told us that fat is bad and carbohydrates are essential. The result? A species that evolved to burn fat now runs on glucose. It’s like fuelling a Formula 1 car with melted lollipops.

The science is not complicated. Carbohydrates are broken down into glucose, which raises blood sugar. This triggers insulin, a storage hormone. When insulin is high, fat burning stops. You could be running a marathon and still not touch your fat stores—because your body is too busy processing the three slices of toast and the orange juice you had for breakfast.

The consequence is metabolic catastrophe: insulin resistance, systemic inflammation, weight gain, brain fog, and eventually type 2 diabetes. According to the National Institutes of Health:

Excessive consumption of carbohydrates, particularly refined carbohydrates and sugars, has been linked to the development of insulin resistance, obesity, and metabolic syndrome.

They knew this in the 1960s. They suppressed it. Ancel Keys and his “diet-heart hypothesis” blamed saturated fat for heart disease and used bad data to do it. The American Heart Association, generously funded by the sugar industry, ran with it. Britain followed suit. The result: an entire population fattened like foie gras geese on brown bread and government advice.

Contrary to the propaganda in GCSE Biology, your body does not “need” carbohydrates. There are essential amino acids. There are essential fatty acids. There are no essential carbohydrates. The body can make all the glucose it needs through gluconeogenesis. The rest is optional—often harmful.

On a low-carb diet, the body shifts from glycolysis (burning sugar) to lipolysis (burning fat). This metabolic state—called ketosis—is not a disease. It is our native setting. It’s how humans survived ice ages. It’s how our ancestors hunted, fought, and thrived for millennia. Modern science is just catching up.

A 2019 review in StatPearls notes:

Low-carbohydrate diets promote weight loss and improve metabolic parameters… They are associated with decreased insulin levels and increased fat oxidation.

This isn’t fringe science. It’s the rediscovery of what should never have been forgotten.

Athletic performance? The mainstream view still insists that athletes need carbohydrates for energy. But endurance athletes increasingly disagree. A 2022 review in Frontiers in Nutrition states:

Well-formulated low-carbohydrate diets can support fat-adaptation and sustained performance in endurance sports without carbohydrate refeeding.

And what of strength training? A 2021 review in Nutrition and Health concludes:

Low-carbohydrate diets do not impair strength or hypertrophy when protein intake is adequate.

In short: you don’t need sugar to build muscle. You need steak. You need eggs. You need butter. You do not need toast.

One of the most obvious benefits of avoiding carbohydrates is the mental clarity that follows. I don’t fall asleep in afternoon lessons. I don’t sit in class twitching with the hypoglycaemic rage of a person whose Weetabix has worn off. Insulin resistance doesn’t just make you fat. It makes you stupid. The brain is highly sensitive to blood sugar. Glucose spikes cause jitters and confusion. Crashes cause lethargy and fog. Over time, insulin resistance in the brain has been linked to cognitive decline, Alzheimer’s, and depression.

A 2019 review in Cureus confirms:

Ketogenic diets have neuroprotective properties and may improve cognitive performance in individuals with insulin resistance.

I will translate for the fat and semi-conscious: if your brain is a balloon, carbs are the needle.

The fatboys always object. “But fibre!” they cry, clutching their stomachs and quoting food pyramid posters from 2003. “Don’t you need fibre?”

Not really. The idea that human beings need insoluble plant residue to scrape the insides of their intestines is one of the great marketing triumphs of the modern food industry. There is no evidence that fibre prevents cancer. There is limited evidence that it prevents constipation—and even that evidence vanishes once you remove the seed oils and ultra-processed carbohydrates that caused the constipation in the first place.

On a low-carb diet, bowel movements become smaller, cleaner, and less frequent. That’s not a problem. That’s a blessing.

Here is what I have eaten since I began doing my own research when I was ten: beef, eggs, oily fish, butter, Greek yoghurt, tofu, spinach, kale, and the occasional blueberry. I don’t eat bread. I don’t eat pasta. I don’t eat chips. I don’t drink fruit juice, or milkshakes, or fizzy drinks. I do not eat sugar, except when eat an occasional piece of fruit. My skin is clear. My abs are visible. My brain works. My life is better.

The contrast is painful to observe. I sit next to boys who snack on iced buns before 10am. Their arms are soft. Their legs chafe. Their stomachs heave over belt buckles designed for men twice their age. I watch them try to focus in lessons, interrupted every ten minutes by yawns or snack-based self-medication. They are failing to thrive. And they know it. But they lack the discipline, the information, or the intelligence to do anything about it.

That’s why they hate me. Not because I’m arrogant (I am), or because I’m clever (I am), or because I look like the models in an underwear advert (I do), but because I am the embodiment of everything they could be but aren’t. And that is unbearable.

This is not just about looking good naked—though that, I assure you, is a pleasant side effect. It is about freedom. The modern high-carb diet is a trap. It creates dependency—on snacks, on drugs, on state advice. The more glucose you need, the more often you eat. The more often you eat, the more you spike insulin. The more you spike insulin, the less fat you burn. Eventually, you become a captive—a doughy, sweating client of the NHS and pharmaceutical industry, and of the processed food cartel.

Low-carb eating is the nutritional equivalent of libertarianism. You burn your own fuel. You do not beg. You do not crash. You do not depend. You stand alone—lean, efficient, and free.

Yes, some people feel terrible when they cut carbs. That’s called withdrawal. Your body is throwing a tantrum because it misses its fix. Wait a week. Drink salt water. Eat more steak. It passes. You’ll never want to go back.

Yes, some people need carbs—sprinters, for instance. They can have their sweet potatoes. Most of you aren’t sprinters. Most of you can barely sprint for the bus. You don’t need glucose. You need willpower.

The real problem is that people want results without discipline. They want to be thin without changing what they eat. They want to be clever without reading books. They want freedom without responsibility. And so they are fat, stupid, and controlled.

But there is another way. Cut the carbs. Reclaim your metabolism. Burn fat. Think clearly. Reject the advice of nutritionists who still believe in the food pyramid. Reject your parents’ shopping habits. Reject the guidance of schools, governments, and NHS dietitians. Instead, eat like a human being.

Or don’t. Stay fat. Stay foggy. Keep twitching your way toward a diabetic coma in a cloud of pastry fumes. You will not be missed.

Bibliography

• Feinman, Richard D., et al. “Dietary carbohydrate restriction as the first approach in diabetes management.” Nutrition 31.1 (2015): 1–13. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0899900714003323
• Naude, Celeste E., et al. “Low carbohydrate versus isoenergetic balanced diets for reducing weight and cardiovascular risk: a systematic review and meta-analysis.” PLOS One 9.7 (2014): e100652.
• Volek, Jeff S., and Stephen D. Phinney. The Art and Science of Low Carbohydrate Performance. Beyond Obesity LLC, 2012.
• Zinn, Caryn, et al. “Ketogenic diet benefits body composition and well-being but not performance in a pilot case study of New Zealand endurance athletes.” Journal of the International Society of Sports Nutrition 14.1 (2017): 22.
• National Institutes of Health. StatPearls. “Low Carbohydrate Diet.” https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK537084/
• ScienceDirect. “Low Carbohydrate Diets and Health Outcomes.” https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2768276524005042
• ResearchGate. “Effects of a low carbohydrate diet on sports performance: Review Article.” https://www.researchgate.net/publication/357604853