Berkeley, Saving Us from Ourselves.

• Author: Hinkle, A. Barton
• Position: FINAL WORD

Among the handful of consolations to emerge from the hellscape of 2020 is the immutability of certain verities: Fish gotta swim. Birds gotta fly. And Berkeley gotta be Berkeley.

In late September--in the midst of a pandemic that had by then claimed 200,000 lives, as protests over police brutality and racial injustice filled the streets, as smoke from massive California wildfires fouled the air, and as Donald Trump asserted he might not agree to a peaceful transfer of power-the political leadership of Berkeley, CA acted swiftly and decisively to confront the existential threat posed by ... candy and chips.

In a unanimous vote (dissent in Berkeley is largely confined to questions such as where to find the best kombucha) the city council passed a measure forbidding grocery stores bigger than 2,500 square feet to display chips, candy, and similar tools of Satan in or near the checkout aisles.

The rationale was that banning such unhealthy fare from the vicinity of the register would support public health through "good behavioral economics [that] facilitates better choices," in the words of Kate Harrison, a sponsor of the ordinance. People are more apt to buy such items on impulse "when willpower is weak at the end of a long shopping trip," she explained.

There was, too, the obligatory think-of-the-children gambit: A "healthy checkout" aisle "offers parents more opportunities to say 'yes' to their kids, and it also helps us to re-envision what treats are," according to Holly Scheider. She is a member of the city's Sugar-Sweetened Beverage Products Panel of Experts Commission. As Dave Barry would say, I'm not making this up.

Finally, supporters of the new rule trotted out the standard it's-good-for-business-too argument: "The council said the shift to selling more healthy products at checkouts will still be profitable for stores," CNN reported, "because data shows customers are looking for more low-sugar and low-sodium products anyway." Indeed, Harrison argued that "we think [businesses] might even make money, particularly because [the ordinance] aligns with consumer desires."

This invites a question: Why have companies that are, presumably, the very platonic ideal of amoral, insatiable greed been disregarding their own venal interest and selling unhealthy snacks when consumers would rather have the healthy kind? To that, Scheider has an answer: "Unhealthy products actually pay for that prime real estate to create brand recognition and addict our...