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KuwaitCONFERENCE SPONSORSHIP WITHDRAWN

MORE than 60% of the people of Kuwait are overweight. From

being a sparsely inhabited piece of desert on the Arabian Gulfoccupied by nomadic Beduin, the discovery of oil rocketed thecountry into the 20th century. Now people of more than 120nationalities outnumber Kuwaitis by nearly 2 to 1, and

multinational corporations bid for the favours of fabulously wealthy yoil sheiks. ’Kentucky Fried Chicken’, ’Hungry Bunny’hamburgers, ’7-up’, and ’Coca-Cola’ are the staple diets.

Chevrolets, Cadillacs, and Mercedes Benz are the preferred mode oftransport. Cardiovascular disease is now the commonest cause of

death, followed closely by road traffic accidents and poisonings.Although the exact prevalence of diabetes is not known, theincidence appears to be increasing, and first estimates suggest that itis more common than in Europe and is predominantly non-insulin-dependent. Aware of these self-inflicted health problems, theDepartment of Food and Nutrition held a symposium on obesityduring the first Nutrition Week in Kuwait at the end of November.UK doctors and dietitians discussed with their Kuwait counterpartsthe hazards of obesity and diabetes at the Al-Mubarak Al-KabeerHospital. Unfortunately food manufacturers and distributors inKuwait saw Nutrition Week as an excuse to market their products.American food chains declared it "Yum Yum Week". Televisionadvertisements promoted one fast food after another, and ’Diet7-up’ ("all taste and less calories") was the obesity conference logo.Meanwhile, at the Hilton Hotel, Kellogg’s had organised a parallelconference on "dietary fibre-its role in healthy living" and hadflown out Denis Burkitt, whose work on dietary fibre has made

healthy eating respectable and bran almost edible. The Kuwait tripwas the start of a whistle-stop tour of the Middle East during whichMr Burkitt and co-worker Sheila Bingham exhorted their audiencesnot to abandon traditional foods such as chick-peas and beans forbreakfast. For one doctor in the audience the irony seemed toogreat-Denis Burkitt standing in front of a wall of cornflakes whichat 0 g of fibre per 100 g is probably rivalled only by’Rice Krispies’as having the lowest fibre content of any breakfast cereal. "Whywere they so prominently displayed at a conference on dietaryfibre?" he asked. Wilf Hamilton from the Kellogg’s food companyin the United Kingdom agreed that cornflakes were low in fibre(how could he deny it?) but suggested that above all a product mustbe "acceptable" to its customers-in their advertising materialKellogg’s always showed a bowl of cornflakes beside somewholemeal toast.

This curious answer failed to allay the suspicions of some of theaudience, who felt that the whole exercise was a promotion for thefamous flakes. These suspicions were confirmed when a few dayslater Kellogg’s withdrew their sponsorship of the obesityconference, having discovered that the awkward questioner in theaudience was a speaker at the obesity conference. Such behaviourfrom a multinational corporation as successful as Kellogg’s seemsextraordinary, but perhaps therein lies the answer-Kellogg’s agentin Kuwait admitted that sales had increased by 1200% this year, andcornflakes sold 20 times more than all the other Kellogg’s cereals. IfKuwait is to salvage the health of its people it will not be able to relyon responsible marketing by commercial food manufacturers, andunless it adopts a food policy backed up by legislation, NutritionWeek in the 21st century will still be lamenting the devastationcaused by Western-style living.

In England Now

"THAT will do, thank you", said the elderly academic after aboutten minutes-to conclude the oral examination. "I am satisfied", headded, "that you can speak French. But before you go, tell

me-what is all this about?" We walked out of the room into the

college garden and enjoyed the brilliant morning sunlight. I hadbeen expecting his question, for there I was-perhaps ten years hissenior-sitting my A-level French in my 81st year. "Simply", Ireplied, "to encourage my grandson-whose approach to modemlanguages fills me with despair. In a word, I hope he will see this as achallenge ..." The examiner nodded sympathetically, but hisexpression betrayed doubt about my approach to the problem.Our dialogue in French had covered a fair amount of ground: my

work before I retired, my family, holidays-and especially visits toFrance and North Africa. Finally, he asked me to say something ofmy daily routine. "I rise", I began, "between 5 and 5.30 am andmake a large jug of coffee ..." But I lapsed into English in myattempt to dispel his incredulity. "Yes", I explained, "after WorldWar II, I had become so painfully aware of the years that the locustshad eaten that I resolved to study intensively for three hours beforebreakfast every day. And this", I added, "has gone on for over thirtyyears..." "But surely", he broke in, "you don’t work all day from5 am?" "Oh no", I replied, "I enjoy my siesta for an hour or so afterlunch" (the deep siesta induced by an electric blanket, I might haveadded). A fortnight later I sat the written part of the examination,timed to begin at 2 pm. When the college clock impatiently chimedthe half-hour, I knew that disaster was imminent. The questionswere fair enough. My difficulty was that though my eyes remainedopen, my brain had reflexly lapsed into siesta. The simplestgrammatical rules were swathed in rolling mist, and at my elbow adrowsy Morpheus mumbled absurdities by way of advice. Theoutcome might have been worse: I scraped through, perhaps oncompassionate grounds.Meanwhile, my grandson, habitually combining breakfast with

luncheon, completed the examination that afternoon (mercifullyelsewhere) with commendable success.

This chastening experience generated a number of reflections onthe value of assessment through conventional examinations. At the

moment, the educational world is in turmoil. Much confidence is

placed on changing the administrative structure in schools and increating a competitive element among teachers. The results-if theycan be assessed-remain to be seen. But is enough attention paid tothe many factors that influence the performance of the individualpupil when he or she is under stress in the actual examination? Somefifty years ago Prof C. W. Valentine wrote a remarkable book onexaminations and examiners. Does anybody read it now? It

provides an invaluable corrective for those who make sweepinggeneralisations on the subject, and especially on the prognosticvalue of examination results.

A. J. P. Taylor, the distinguished historian, in his introduction toKenneth Morgan’s biography of David Lloyd George,! says"... count up all his [L1.G’s] faults, set against them what heachieved, and it is difficult to resist the feeling that Lloyd Georgewas the greatest ruler of England since Oliver Cromwell". ButKenneth Morgan has to record that Lloyd George passed his lawexamination "with only third-class honours". Such was the

examiners’ grading of this undoubted man of genius who, in his day,did"... bestride the narrow worldLike a Colossus..." "

These-for me-are what the divines call "comfortablewords"-at any rate, when it comes to A levels in the ninth decadeof life.

* * *

I TRIED to telephone my defence society the other day. I wasn’tworried about anything, you understand-not that I knew about,anyway. Just returning a call to give them a Lancet reference. Thefirst three times the number was engaged; then I got a ringing tonefor six minutes, but no reply. Three more tries, all engaged; then itrang for ten minutes until British Telecom’s automatic cut-offinformed me-rather unhelpfully-"I’m sorry, your call is not

being answered". Another call by myself and one by the operator:both engaged. The annual subscription-not that I pay it anymore-is set to go up to L 1350 pa. I suppose that if people couldactually get through, subscriptions would have to be even moreexpensive.

1. Morgan KO Lloyd George London Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1974