JBP IN THE NEWS / GQ trys to right a wong, and fails again. 
Canadian psychology professor Jordan Peterson, a very serious thought leader who
believes that men would be less violent if only women were required to have sex with them, recently sat for a
lengthy interview with Helen Lewis and our across-the-pond colleagues at
British GQ. Most of their conversation focused on the pet peeves for which he is known best: feminism, political correctness, and so on. One notable digression, however, concerned the peculiar way that Peterson apparently fuels his brand of vapid pseudointellectualism: He claims to adhere to an all-beef diet.
"Really? Just beef? Can you have, like, ketchup on it?" Lewis asks, with the weary sigh of someone who has just been politely informed that the airline has no record of any reservation under their name. "No, nothing," he replies. "It isn't something I would lightly recommend." He goes on to characterize the regimen as "a little hard on your social life," as if his permanent dead-eyed stare and long-winded expositions on the hazards of "cultural Marxism" weren't already enough to make him North America's suckiest party guest.
Is this your intellectual?
Canadian psychology professor Jordan Peterson, a very serious thought leader who
believes that men would be less violent if only women were required to have sex with them, recently sat for a
lengthy interview with Helen Lewis and our across-the-pond colleagues at
British GQ. Most of their conversation focused on the pet peeves for which he is known best: feminism, political correctness, and so on. One notable digression, however, concerned the peculiar way that Peterson apparently fuels his brand of vapid pseudointellectualism: He claims to adhere to an all-beef diet.
"Really? Just beef? Can you have, like, ketchup on it?" Lewis asks, with the weary sigh of someone who has just been politely informed that the airline has no record of any reservation under their name. "No, nothing," he replies. "It isn't something I would lightly recommend." He goes on to characterize the regimen as "a little hard on your social life," as if his permanent dead-eyed stare and long-winded expositions on the hazards of "cultural Marxism" weren't already enough to make him North America's suckiest party guest.
It turns out that Peterson's inspiration is his 26-year-old daughter Mikhaila, who told
The Atlantic that she began experimenting with elimination diets a few years ago in an effort to address a laundry list of maladies. When only beef, salt, and water remained, her symptoms began disappearing. ("Strangely enough," she notes, her body can still "tolerate" bourbon and vodka.) Today, her father professes to have realized the same types of miraculous results: He told Lewis that he's lost 50 pounds in seven months, stopped snoring, shed unspecified autoimmune conditions, and stopped taking antidepressants altogether. He did not address whether this life choice has helped to curb his penchant for trafficking in boring sexism disguised as groundbreaking academic thought. Perhaps a few more months of hamburger patties will tell.
We asked a few experts for their opinions on the subject; they were, to put it delicately, skeptical. "A diet that is restricted to one food does not make any sense," says
Jody Dushay, an assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School. "It doesn't matter what the food is! Even if it's a 'perfect' food, it will still be imperfect." She points out that Peterson's diet leaves him without sources of crucial vitamins and minerals, not to mention carbohydrates. "It's not anything that can sustain human life," says nutritionist
Judy Simon, a clinical instructor at the University of Washington Medical Center. Kristina Secinario, a licensed dietician at Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston, adds that eating is not as simple as just eating; an all-beef diet would not address, for example, the vital emotional and stress-management components of food consumption. (She also wonders whether it is practical for those who travel regularly; after all, there is only so much beef jerky one can tolerate.)
Peterson's star has dimmed a bit of late. An anonymous GQ staffer reports going on a recent first date with a man who enthusiastically referred to his alleged favorite author as a "controversial professor" and "total genius," only to be unable to recall his actual name for most of the evening. (She reports responding to his request for a second date by emitting a "guttural squeak" and running away.)
Unfortunately for Jordan Peterson, it does not seem that hawking this insane gibberish fad diet will prove to be a viable alternative career path. Fortunately for Jordan Peterson, it is only, at best, the eleventh-most objectionable thing about him.
. Because Swedens foreign minister crawled from under a rock 
and said indirectly to Peterson, that he should "crawl under his rock he came from". Of course, this minister is a feminist.
