Aspartame is now as cancerous as drinking beer and wine. It’s big news, especially in natural health circles. Of course, alcohol is terribly unhealthy even in moderation – a lot of the people who defend drinking alcohol are a lot like those who defend eating dark chocolate and bacon. All good things, but be honest they are not healthy and should be considered an unhealthy treat only engaged in very sparingly.
Americans have long had this fear of science and technology. Some of it is justified – the history books are full of stories about advances like DDT, asbestos, leaded products whose uses seemed like a good idea at the time but ended up with tragic long term consequences. But those are mostly unknown risks.
People have been suspicious of artificial sweeteners since the 1960s. Cyclamate was banned in 1970 in the United States based on dubious science and lobbying by the sugar beets growing farmers in the Midwest which didn’t like the competition, despite the rest of the world viewing it as largely safe. Aspartame has been viewed with suspicion ever since. A lot of money and time has gone into studying the safety of aspartame and the results are mixed at best though it seems that in general the risks of aspartame consumption are relatively low.
A bigger concern with artificial sweeteners and food additives like MSG isn’t their health concerns but what they are masking underneath. Artificial sweeteners and food additives are often added to junk food loaded with calories, salt, sugar and fat – and have very little nutrient value or stomach filling protein and fiber which encourages overeating. There is this desire by Americans to blame the chemicals they are eating and not the underlying crappy food that the chemicals are masking.
If you mix aspartame at home with non fat unflavored Greek yogurt and frozen strawberries, what you are still eating is quite healthy. If you put MSG on kale and brown rice, you are eating good healthy food. But the same aspartame used in sugar free ice cream or MSG used on Dorritos is junk food. Chemistry can be good or bad depending on how it’s used – to enhance flavor or mask flavors of junk foods.
There is a loud, persistent voice in the modern financial world—often echoing from the frugal corners of the internet—that insists on the “25-year-old Honda Civic” lifestyle. It’s a philosophy that treats vehicles strictly as liabilities and views any significant automotive expenditure as a self-inflicted financial wound. Recently, I ignored that voice and spent $59,725 on a new Ford SuperDuty. Now, I find myself caught in the quiet tension between the practical joy the truck brings and the cringing reality of its cost.
On paper, the timing was jarring. Between the truck purchase and a market dip fueled by geopolitical tensions in the Middle East, my net worth saw a 10% decline in just over a month. While market fluctuations are temporary “paper losses,” the truck is a definitive consumption expense. The cash is gone, replaced by a vehicle that, despite its utility, is ultimately a collection of steel and cheap plastic destined to eventually become scrap. When I added the increased insurance premiums and commercial plates, the “financial hole” felt deeper than I anticipated.
Yet, when I move past the initial sticker shock, a different narrative emerges. I didn’t buy a luxury toy; I bought a 15-year tool. By choosing a heavy-duty work truck and equipping it with a cap, I’ve invested in a platform for a decade and a half of adventures and practical service. There is a specific kind of freedom that comes with a vehicle that truly serves your needs, and that utility provides a level of daily satisfaction that a budget sedan never could.
To maintain my sanity, I’ve had to put the cost into perspective. The total price tag represents roughly the market gains I saw in the final quarter of last year. In the grand sweep of a lifetime of investing, it is a “drop in the bucket.” I don’t have a monthly car payment draining my cash flow, and the truck retains significant residual value for the foreseeable future.
Ultimately, I am grappling with the fact that life requires “things” to be lived fully. We are often told to optimize every penny for the future, but the future is built on the experiences we have today. The SuperDuty was an expensive choice, and the “frugal” version of myself may always cringe at that $60,000 figure. However, as I look forward to the next 15 years of reliability and recreation, I’m learning to accept that sometimes, the best use of capital is to fund the life you actually want to lead.
