The day the media circus came to town

Posted by Jean Adams

Is it more scary when Monty Don slags off your research on Twitter, or when a professor who you respect a lot asks you nicely to be a bit more careful with your not-quite-what-it-was-designed-for use of his carefully developed tool (also on Twitter)? How about both on one day?

What seems like a long time ago now, an MSc student emailed to ask if I’d be interested in chatting about an idea he had for a dissertation project.

His idea was simple: compare the nutritional quality of ready meals to celebrity chef meals. I don’t think the student (now graduate) in question would mind me saying that he’s not unfamiliar with a ready meal, or currently maintaining his weight within the recommended BMI range. Slightly fed up with being told his ready meal habit was bad for him, he was interested in finding out just how bad and whether it was any worse than the alternative that seemed to be in his face whenever he was eating his ready meals – something served up by Nigella, Jamie or Hugh.

In contrast, I and my co-supervisor were backing the celeb chefs. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a ready meal, and it is possible that I have an affinity for glossy recipe books that has resulted in a collection that outgrew the kitchen bookcase some time ago. Scientists are neutral (not). We might be able to collect and analyse the data objectively, but it was clear what results each member of the research team was hoping to find.

The project was perfect for an MSc dissertation: clear research question, data collection primarily via the web, fairly straightforward analysis, no ethics permission required. We joked in supervision that the BMJ would love it.

And so it came to pass that the student collected and analysed his data, perhaps stretched the use of front of pack labelling for a good gimmicky visual a bit too far, got a good mark, and toddled off back to his real job promising to send us a draft of a paper sometime. Often those manuscripts never materialise. But lo! This one did. I wasn’t absolutely convinced that the BMJ really would love it, but we’d said they would and it seemed a shame not to try. They say ‘no’ pretty quickly.

I was mildly offended when the BMJ’s response to our rather serious and important piece of work was that it was “quirky” enough for their Christmas edition. Sure it was fun and sure I wasn’t quite convinced that it was good enough piece of work to be considered normal BMJ material. But there is a serious point here: lots of public health advice suggests that people should cook from scratch and implies this is better for you than eating ready meals. If you don’t know how to cook from scratch, then it isn’t a wild assumption to suggest that you might learn from the most prominent cooks around – celebrity TV chefs. A nutritional comparison of the two doesn’t seem outrageous.

Presumably you know what our findings were? We found that, on a number of nutritional metrics, ready meals did better than celebrity chef meals, but neither of them did very well. The ready meals were less unhealthy than the celeb chef meals, but it would probably not be right to say the ready meals were healthier than the celeb chef meals.

I knew what was going to happen. I didn’t have any idea how to stop it happening. Perhaps there was none.

The BMJ went to town promoting our paper. The media loved it. We got on the Today programme headlines, the paper was covered by loads of newspapers and not just in the UK, all three of us spent most of publication day doing interviews with just about everyone and their dog. But however much we tried, it was very difficult to get the message across that neither group of meals were particularly good for you – we were definitely not saying that ready meals are the way to go. But that’s the message that everyone seemed to hear.

Ho hum. What can you do? The media circus would move on. No-one would remember. And presumably any colleagues who would, might take the time to read the paper (or at least the abstract), and not just go on what was in the newspapers?

I can understand why people went for the “ready meals healthier than celeb chefs” headline and why that then prompted all the various responses it did. But I was most bothered by Monty Don’s response. And not just because I’ve always thought he seemed like a nice, and thoughtful, guy.

Do lots of people think scientists should only do, and publish, studies that come up with the ‘right’ results? That we should make sure the measures we use are designed to come up with those ‘right’ results? What about Ben Goldacre and the All Trials campaign for open data and publication of all trial results – not just positive ones? How does that match with this attitude? Or maybe I’m assuming that Monty is more representative of ‘the public’ than he really is.

What happens when you put fresh fruit & veg in local corner shops?

Posted by Jean Adams

This post is about a research paper that is published on-line today. Writing about research findings is a new venture for the Fuse Blog. Let us know if you want to see more results write-ups like this by leaving a comment below, or tweeting me @jeanmadams

In 2008, the Department of Health in England decided that one way to get people to eat more fruit and veg was to make it more readily available in local, corner shops.

The rationale was fairly simple – corner shops are less likely to sell fruit and veg; people who live in poorer neighbourhoods are less likely to have cars; thus they probably shop more at local corner shops and so probably have less opportunities for buying fruit and veg than people who have a car and use it to shop at a big supermarket.

Simple, but perhaps flawed. But let’s not talk about that for now. 

The corner store initiative was part of the all-singing-all-dancing Change4Life campaign. In our region, the North East, 17 stores were selected for an intensive intervention that involved part funding for a brand new chiller cabinet, a partial store re-fit to allow fruit and veg to be displayed more prominently, a funky little fruit and veg stand on wheels, and lots of Change4Life branded ‘merch’ – posters, stickers, shelf strips, you name it. A further 70 stores got just the stand and the merch. All stores were given various written materials to help them make more of fruit and veg.

Launch of a new Change4Life store in Portsmouth

There was a lot of publicity around the intervention and lots of shops got in their local papers. Which was great. But the point was to encourage people to eat more fruit and veg. Did it?

We spent a lot of time and effort trying to get funding to do a full-on outcome evaluation of this intervention. Sadly, although we did initially get awarded funding, it was withdrawn at the last moment (a story for a different post). Instead we did a small, process evaluation. Around two years after initial implementation, we looked at whether the stores were still using the intervention materials. We also asked 10 people who had been involved in the intervention in different capacities how it had gone.

What we found was that less than half of the stores were still using the campaign materials – apart from the funded chillers, which were all still in place. Shopkeepers told us that the merch just didn’t last very long and they didn’t know how to get replacements. They also thought that the campaign had been intended as a short-term initiative and were a bit surprised that we were still interested two years on.

Lots of shopkeepers and managers complained about a lack of communication with the intervention team. They didn’t have a clear idea what the intervention was aiming to do, or how to keep it going after the initial fanfare of its launch. DH was aware of this, and they tried to maintain the momentum by linking shops to local health workers and primary schools in the hope that schools and other community organisations might choose to buy their fruit and veg from Change4Life stores. Unfortunately, this never really worked and there were some tensions between the ultimate commercial aims of shops and health promotion aims of health workers.

As we weren’t able to collect any information on the impact of the intervention on consumption of fruit and veg amongst local people, we can’t ever say for sure whether or not the campaign was effective. But our results do suggest that it was unlikely to have had any sustained impact.

Sadly, lots of enthusiasm and funding seems to have got bogged down by poor communication and a focus on style over substance. The lessons are wide reaching, but perhaps not new.

You can read the full results here.