The first human farmers put their hands to the earth in approximately 9,500
B.C.E. And, according to the Paleolithic Diet, this was the human’s undoing, in a way. The agriculture age set the stage for grain intake, for more unnecessary carbohydrates and—many years later—just a ton of processed sugar. In fact, sugar by the spoonful.
The Paleolithic Era, based from 2,600,000 to 10,000 B.C.E., brought about the first realm of Homosapiens—which is the scientific term for modern-day people. And it also brought about the first stone tools, utilized for furthering the Homosapien culture with the aforementioned hunter-gathering methods.
Because this was the first known period of the modern day human, the Paleolithic Diet reasons that the human digestive system and general make up have not changed, evolutionarily speaking. It reasons that what the human body needed during this Paleolithic Era—when humans came to be—is not different. And the fact that humans were able to evolve and become stronger during this era meditates that perhaps this diet delivered much more to our evolutionary benefit than we realize.
The diets proffered to humans today—generally targeted toward both women and men struggling in this fast-paced world to just lose five, ten pounds before the big summer vacation—indicate that low fat diets are the absolute, scientifically proven ways to shed. And our way of thinking has absolutely absolved to this theory. We gravitate toward processed, “low-fat” crackers on the shelf; we cut the fat off our cuts of meat. The less fat we intake, naturally, the less fat we’ll allow to round up on our hips and thighs.
Dr. Walter L. Voegtlin was the first man to publicly question this “no-fat” or “low-fat” mentality, looking instead to our early human ancestors for proof that the Homosapien diet should be rich in fat, in protein. He published a book called The Stone Age Diet in 1975 proclaiming that human beings are a carnivorous species; he looks to the way we, as creatures, evolved for proof. We have canine teeth and incisors—made for abrupt vertical action just like a wolf or
lion. We cannot digest cellulose—the premier component in many plant-based and grain-based food items. And our digestive tract is relatively short—similar to other, well-known carnivorous animals. Our digestive system in no way, for example, resembles a goat or a sheep. The bacteria in a sheep’s digestivetract are perfectly calibrated to withstand constant intake of grains and vegetables. A sheep contains none of the aforementioned canine teeth or incisors; we, as humans, resemble a wolf much more than a sheep in ways in which we can digest as well as rip and tear at our food. And this seems natural. After all, we didn’t rise to the top of the world’s “food chain” by remaining herbivores; we hunted and killed our prey.
Much of this hunting occurred in the Paleolithic Era; our Homosapien brethren knew to kill the most fatty animals first: mammoth and bison, mountain sheep and beavers. It’s clear that the Homosapiens actually contributed to the mammoth extinction because of unfortunate, wasteful killings: in search for the good stuff—the fat on the mammoth’s tongue for example—they would kill the animal and only consume the tongue. They would leave the rest of the carcass to rot. This is certainly a sign that our early ancestors, the Homosapiens in constant search for pivotal energy—found what they were searching for in the form of fat on the mammoth’s tongue. They were certainly not worried about their weight, and they lived the thousands of years via that diet to form our current population today. If it weren’t for fat and protein, we wouldn’t be the sad fat-free cracker-eating culture we are now. We would have died from disease and lack of protein a long time ago.