Wednesday, 27 February 2013

How sweet it is ... or is it?



As a perception that is universally positive, sweetness is unique. Moreover, sweetness is typically liked outside of its usual context of a food or drink. This is in contrast to all other sensory signals. Salt is great when attached to chips, red is terrific when painted onto a Ferrari, and Gb peerless when part of your favourite tune. But out of context, they loose much of their appeal. Not so, sweet taste. In an earlier discussion (see March, 2012: The genetics of cat food), I talked about the ability of sweet tastes to elicit smiles from human and animal newborns reflecting the adaptive priority given to our ability to sense carbohydrates. 

Even if preference is always shown for sweetness, it, like every other sensory quality, are liked to greater and lesser extents, in part depending on the type of food or beverage. The role of learning here is obvious – even if we have taken sugar in our tea or coffee for decades, we can quickly learn to like less or even no sugar through repeated exposure. Hence, given different histories of food consumption, we would expect individuals to vary in how sweet foods or beverages should ideally be.

But what is less considered is whether there might be consistent patterns of individual differences in sweetness preferences that either can’t easily be explained by, or may even precede, food choices. Such patterns in bitterness perception and preference have become familiar in recent years through research on the compound 6-n-propylthiouracil or PROP (see for example [1]). Moreover, the idea of subsets of consumers similarly showing reliable differences in their liking for sweet tastes isn’t new. In 1970 [2], Rose-Marie Pangborn described patterns of variations in both sweet and salty taste preferences. Many of us would identify with the idea of having a “sweet tooth” and research on ‘sweet liking’ has indicated that this is around two thirds of us. Meanwhile, the remaining 30% are known as ‘sweet dislikers’, but this is a misnomer, since it really reflects a preference for sweetness per se that peaks at a lower optimal than it does for the sweet likers – not an actual dislike.

One approach to quantifying the sweet liker/disliker dimension has been to simply obtain the preferred sucrose concentration using a forced-choice procedure. While this is useful and reliable as a measure, it will miss differences in patterns of liking that become evident across a range of sucrose concentrations. Distinct groups of sweet likers and dislikers can also be segregated by patterns of increasing or decreasing preferences for the sweetness of sucrose concentrations. Typically, sweet likers show a monotonic increase as sweetness increases, reaching an asymptote at or close to the highest concentration. Dislikers, on the other hand, often show a steep decline that begins at relatively low concentrations. But it is also clear that some individuals fail to be especially impressed by sweetness at any concentration, instead showing a moderate liking that is insensitive to variations in concentration. These patterns, and the proportions of consumers contained in each, are yet to be definitive, and what’s missing in all the research is estimates of how people vary obtained from large population samples.

The important issue arising from categorizing consumers as sweet likers, dislikers or ‘indifferents’ is whether or not classification into groups predicts anything useful. After all, within a culture, there is more or less general agreement about optimal sweetness levels: fruit should be sweet, but beer shouldn’t.  Such ‘agreement’ can be seen as the consequence of cumulative experience of the typical products that are on the market. Nevertheless, given the prevailing sweetness levels of foods and drinks, do some consumers reject some products because they are just too sweet? In other words, does classifying consumers into sweet liking groups predict which of the available foods will be chosen? And if it does, what are the implications for public health?

As we stand, none of these questions can be answered with any certainty. But increasingly, there are research findings that point to a tentative conclusion that sweet liking might a key determinant of food preferences. Julie Mennella and her team recently evaluated their method of assessing sweet liking in a large sample of adults, adolescents and children [3]. Amongst other findings, they noted a significant positive association between preferred concentrations sucrose in solution and the sugar content of their favourite breakfast cereal.

Since our foods likes (and dislikes) are learned, the importance of the sweet liking dimension is also illustrated by findings that it can influence preference development. In this study [4], a novel odour was repeatedly paired in solution with the sweet taste of saccharin. This ought to produce a liking for the odour, since the “positive feelings” for the sweetness are transferred to the odour, a process known as evaluative conditioning. And so it did – but only for the sweet likers. Consistent with their classification as individuals who do not find sweetness especially rewarding, the sweet dislikers failed to develop a liking for the novel odour. Since evaluative conditioning is thought to be a very common mechanism for food preference development, the implications of such a finding are critical in helping us understand how food preferences – and hence food choices - can vary within populations.

Just one of the obvious next questions, given the energy provided by carbohydrate sweeteners, is whether or not sweet liking is a risk factor for obesity. Again, we need much larger samples of consumers from which ask this question, but Mennella’s study, plus another one from her lab, failed to find a relationship between body weight (BMI) and preferred sucrose concentration.

Unlike the case with PROP sensitivity, for which variations in specific genes are implicated, there is little strong evidence one way or another that sweet liking is determined by early food experiences, or genetics, or a combination of both.  However, Mennella also provides interesting data that bear on the question of the origin of the sweet liker dimension.  Her sample was analysed in terms of demographic factors including race, education, income and sex. Her black participants preferred a significantly higher sucrose concentration, as did those with a lower income. Boys preferred a higher concentration than girls, and children higher sweetness than adults. None of these findings rule out a role for taste genetics, but it is important to note that variations in sweet liking reflects hedonics - and not sensitivity to - sweetness. In other words, sweetness of equal intensity is liked differently. Mennella herself notes that black mothers often feed sugar water during infancy and suggests that this is one plausible origin of the greater liking for higher sweetness levels in this group.

If it seems premature to conclude that sweet liking will be an important predictor of food choices, the research to date nevertheless supports a view that this variable is worth further consideration. As with variations in PROP sensitivity and the recently reported thermal tasting, we don’t yet know what ultimate benefits measurement of sweet liking will bring, but understanding the impact of person-to-person differences in consumers’ patterns of sensory and hedonic responses is unlikely to be wasted effort. Sweet liking could be the factor that mediates the tortuous path between responses to products in consumer evaluations and what products consumers actually choose to eat.
                                                                                                                       


Tuesday, 15 January 2013

The smell of ageing


Another year older.  And, according to the bulk of research on aging and our senses of taste and smell, another year closer to permanent decline. Studies on this topic are more or less unanimous, particular with respect to our sense of smell. Across the range of different “scratch and sniff” odours evaluated by 1.5 million people in the National Geographic Smell Survey [1], both odour detection and identification ability declined noticeably after the age of 70. This finding is supported now by very many studies showing that the ability to detect, discriminate, or identify smells progressively declines once we enter our eighth decade. Those odours or flavours that we can detect or identify are, unfortunately, weaker than they once were.


This is a modern malady for a variety of reasons. Enjoyment of food is increasingly an important part of our lives. And in affluent countries, we have started to take it for granted that – barring especially unfortunate genes, particularly foolhardy behavior, or rogue buses – we will of course live well into our 70s and perhaps 80s. Moreover, those staring with most interest (and most denial) at these decades, namely the baby-boomers, expect that a life of good food and wine will continue unabated until the moment that their life-support is switched off. What none of us really anticipate is that our diets will increasingly become blander and foods less distinctive as we ‘mature’.

The food industry has, from time to time, toyed with the notion of producing particular products for elderly consumers. No doubt that this is in recognition of the importance that our sense of smell plays in food appreciation. While this might be a technologically achievable, the marketing issues would be formidable. However, attempts have been made to improve food palatability for elderly in institutionalized care such as nursing homes. Such groups are highly vulnerable to malnutrition, at least partly because as our sense of smell declines, food flavours tend to become less appetizing, and eating less enjoyable. While for many of us, weight gain is the key dietary issue, institutionalized elderly risk serious health problems from under-eating. Because declining health takes a strong psychological as well as physical toll, loss of enjoyment from food can undermine motivations to eat and lead to even poorer health [2]. Attempts to overcome this problem have focused on boosting the taste profile of food, since taste is more robust in the face of increasing age than smell. Flavour ‘amplification’ of food using enhancers such as nucleotides or glutamate has been found to improve both the enjoyment of food and nutritional status in elderly patients [3].

Attempts to understand the causes of age-related olfactory loss have had to deal with the complexity of aging. While age-related changes at all levels of the olfactory system, and indeed the brain itself, have been demonstrated, it is not clear what the causes of these changes might be. Neurological changes to the olfactory system may occur as part of the normal aging process in the same way as changes to the elasticity of our skin. In addition, however, accumulated exposure to industrial chemical or pollutants or tobacco smoke over the adult lifespan might also be a specific factor in smell loss. To further complicate matters, very many diseases are much more common as we age. As a consequence, our intake of medications – some of which are known to have an impact on the sense of smell – increases considerably. Finally, let’s consider the fact that, even in the absence of dementia, cognitive abilities such as attention and memory are also concurrently declining. This means that any test of olfactory identification, for example, must take account of a general reduction in our ability to identify anything at all.

This depressing scenario is relieved a little if you are a woman by the fact that you will not only tend to live longer, but that the decline in the sense of smell will on average be less severe. However, even for men, there’s hope. While the average decline in sense of smell after age 70 looks bad, the variability around this average starts to increase dramatically at this point (see, for example [4]). In other words, the average value itself increasingly becomes unrepresentative of any single individual. So, perhaps because of a history of exposure to something that is very detrimental to smelling, you could be very unlucky and have little ability to smell any longer. On the other hand, the amount of olfactory decline you experience might actually be quite modest.

The key issue then becomes tracking down those factors that protect or harm our sense of smell during our lifetime.  Importantly, the sense of smell is not isolated from other physical and cognitive functions. Variability in smelling mirrors more general variation in functioning in aging. We have all encountered, personally or via media, examples of individuals in their 80s or 90s who seem remarkably healthy, cognitively intact and physically or intellectually productive for their age (see, for example an articulate Bertrand Russell being interviewed at the age of 87; www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bZv3pSaLtY). These individuals are often identified as having “successfully aged”. In contrast, while examples of 90-year-old smokers or heavy drinkers can always be found, it is well established that such behaviours diminish our chances of living to a ripe, or at least healthy, old age.

Recent research by Nordin and colleagues [5] raise the possibility that general health may also be crucial in maintaining a functioning olfactory system. They addressed the question of whether aging per se is responsible for olfactory loss by recruiting a group in their 70s and 80s that were medication-free, cognitively intact and absent serious health problems, industrial chemical exposure or family history of dementia. Compared with a group of university students in their 20s, the elderly group performed equivalently in a threshold task in which they were required to detect the odour of pyridine. This suggests that odour sensitivity reflects overall general physical and cognitive health.

This study does not, of course, rule out other types of olfactory deficits in similarly healthy elderly. But it does suggest the possibility that declining smell might prove to be a manifestation of those same risk factors that are important in overall health as we age. Some fortunate (probably non-smoking) baby boomers might still be enjoying their last sip of Chardonnay as they expire after all.