I know it is a contentious position these days, but I have always been in favor of public schools. I went to a public school. I enjoyed myself there. I believe it taught me some things. I’ve also always been suspicious of privatization schemes. That’s because I tend to think that when a service is for profit rather than for the public’s benefit, all sorts of perverse incentives arise. If schools operated for profit, with education subsidized by vouchers, the companies running the schools would have an interest in spending as little as possible actually educating the students, because every dollar they could save would be a dollar they could keep. That strikes me as dangerous, and I can’t help but think that it will lead inexorably in the direction of giving children iPads rather than teachers.
Once, though, when I voiced my dubiousness about “voucherization,” a gentleman challenged me. Why, he said, did I think private schools with vouchers would be worse than public schools? We entrust other areas of life to the private sector and they work just fine. Consider, for example, grocery stores. We don’t have government-run grocery stores like we have government-run schools. And yet most people in the country seem pretty happy with their grocery stores. They can get whatever they want there, and if they can’t afford it, we subsidize it with a “voucher” (i.e. food stamps). The profit motive hasn’t led to a rapacious system of exploitation. In fact, it has given consumers the ability to get an astonishing variety of goods for incredibly low prices. Why are you uniquely suspicious of what the private sector would do to education, when it provides us so efficiently with our food?
The gentleman’s argument was a strong one. I will confess that I felt a bit stumped by it. He was right. Every week I go to the grocery store and I get relatively tasty things for relatively low prices. And so I found myself tempted by his idea that education could be provided by “learning stores” just like nutrition is provided by grocery stores.
Then I remembered that nutrition in America is a total disaster, that ⅔ of the country is obese or overweight, and that half of the country either has diabetes or is at high risk of having diabetes soon. If we start providing education like we provide nutrition, then God help the little children…
Food is actually the perfect example of a system in which the presence of a profit motive is having incredibly destructive human consequences. That’s because it introduces a terrible incentive: to sell people the products they’ll get addicted to rather than the products that are good for them. Americans live on junk food; they have terrible diets, with too much sodium, too many calories, too much sugar, and too few fruits and vegetables.
And as food companies seek to increase their revenue, the problem is spreading internationally. The New York Times recently reported that “multinational food companies like Nestlé, PepsiCo and General Mills have been aggressively expanding their presence in developing nations, unleashing a marketing juggernaut that is upending traditional diets from Brazil to Ghana to India.” Nestlé, for instance, hired legions of Brazilians to sell its products door to door, and regularly sent a barge down the Amazon river offering pudding, cookies, and candy. The result, according to the Times, has been “more obese Brazilians,” with “a new epidemic of diabetes and heart disease.” In places that “struggled with hunger and malnutrition just a generation ago” there are now “soaring rates of obesity,” with “the growing availability of high-calorie, nutrient-poor foods” causing more people to be “both overweight and undernourished.” In poor Brazilian towns, one can find 17-year-olds who weigh 250lbs and suffer from hypertension, problems once unknown in the developing world.
We know precisely why this happens. Bob Drane, the former Kraft Foods executive who invented Lunchables, described the logic of the industry:
“Discover what consumers want to buy and give it to them with both barrels. Sell more, keep your job! How do marketers often translate these ‘rules’ into action on food? Our limbic brains love sugar, fat, salt. . . . So formulate products to deliver these. Perhaps add low-cost ingredients to boost profit margins. Then ‘supersize’ to sell more. . . . And advertise/promote to lock in ‘heavy users.’”
Lunchables themselves were the result of this logic. They’re bad for kids, since they’re largely comprised of baloney and cheese, but Oscar Mayer realized that parents with little time would snap up something that eliminated the need to make lunch, and kids would crave them because it came with a big block of fatty cheese. (Experiments with healthier Lunchables were called off due to poor sales.)
Food and beverage executives are fairly open about how they think. “Half the world’s population has not had a Coke in the last 30 days,” said the president of Coca-Cola International. “There’s 600 million teenagers who have not had a Coke in the last week. So the opportunity for that is huge.” According to the Times, a former Coke vice president said that “the goal became much larger than merely beating the rival brands; Coca-Cola strove to outsell every other thing people drank, including milk and water. The marketing division’s efforts boiled down to one question… ‘How can we drive more ounces into more bodies more often?’” Coke has specifically targeted poor areas around the world. Coke’s former North American president, Jeffrey Dunn, was horrified by what he saw when he toured one of the impoverished districts the company was targeting: “A voice in my head says, ‘These people need a lot of things, but they don’t need a Coke.’ I almost threw up.” But when Dunn raised his concerns and tried to change the business, he encountered “very aggressive” resistance and was fired.
Once, though, when I voiced my dubiousness about “voucherization,” a gentleman challenged me. Why, he said, did I think private schools with vouchers would be worse than public schools? We entrust other areas of life to the private sector and they work just fine. Consider, for example, grocery stores. We don’t have government-run grocery stores like we have government-run schools. And yet most people in the country seem pretty happy with their grocery stores. They can get whatever they want there, and if they can’t afford it, we subsidize it with a “voucher” (i.e. food stamps). The profit motive hasn’t led to a rapacious system of exploitation. In fact, it has given consumers the ability to get an astonishing variety of goods for incredibly low prices. Why are you uniquely suspicious of what the private sector would do to education, when it provides us so efficiently with our food?
The gentleman’s argument was a strong one. I will confess that I felt a bit stumped by it. He was right. Every week I go to the grocery store and I get relatively tasty things for relatively low prices. And so I found myself tempted by his idea that education could be provided by “learning stores” just like nutrition is provided by grocery stores.
Then I remembered that nutrition in America is a total disaster, that ⅔ of the country is obese or overweight, and that half of the country either has diabetes or is at high risk of having diabetes soon. If we start providing education like we provide nutrition, then God help the little children…Food is actually the perfect example of a system in which the presence of a profit motive is having incredibly destructive human consequences. That’s because it introduces a terrible incentive: to sell people the products they’ll get addicted to rather than the products that are good for them. Americans live on junk food; they have terrible diets, with too much sodium, too many calories, too much sugar, and too few fruits and vegetables.
And as food companies seek to increase their revenue, the problem is spreading internationally. The New York Times recently reported that “multinational food companies like Nestlé, PepsiCo and General Mills have been aggressively expanding their presence in developing nations, unleashing a marketing juggernaut that is upending traditional diets from Brazil to Ghana to India.” Nestlé, for instance, hired legions of Brazilians to sell its products door to door, and regularly sent a barge down the Amazon river offering pudding, cookies, and candy. The result, according to the Times, has been “more obese Brazilians,” with “a new epidemic of diabetes and heart disease.” In places that “struggled with hunger and malnutrition just a generation ago” there are now “soaring rates of obesity,” with “the growing availability of high-calorie, nutrient-poor foods” causing more people to be “both overweight and undernourished.” In poor Brazilian towns, one can find 17-year-olds who weigh 250lbs and suffer from hypertension, problems once unknown in the developing world.
We know precisely why this happens. Bob Drane, the former Kraft Foods executive who invented Lunchables, described the logic of the industry:
“Discover what consumers want to buy and give it to them with both barrels. Sell more, keep your job! How do marketers often translate these ‘rules’ into action on food? Our limbic brains love sugar, fat, salt. . . . So formulate products to deliver these. Perhaps add low-cost ingredients to boost profit margins. Then ‘supersize’ to sell more. . . . And advertise/promote to lock in ‘heavy users.’”
Lunchables themselves were the result of this logic. They’re bad for kids, since they’re largely comprised of baloney and cheese, but Oscar Mayer realized that parents with little time would snap up something that eliminated the need to make lunch, and kids would crave them because it came with a big block of fatty cheese. (Experiments with healthier Lunchables were called off due to poor sales.)
Food and beverage executives are fairly open about how they think. “Half the world’s population has not had a Coke in the last 30 days,” said the president of Coca-Cola International. “There’s 600 million teenagers who have not had a Coke in the last week. So the opportunity for that is huge.” According to the Times, a former Coke vice president said that “the goal became much larger than merely beating the rival brands; Coca-Cola strove to outsell every other thing people drank, including milk and water. The marketing division’s efforts boiled down to one question… ‘How can we drive more ounces into more bodies more often?’” Coke has specifically targeted poor areas around the world. Coke’s former North American president, Jeffrey Dunn, was horrified by what he saw when he toured one of the impoverished districts the company was targeting: “A voice in my head says, ‘These people need a lot of things, but they don’t need a Coke.’ I almost threw up.” But when Dunn raised his concerns and tried to change the business, he encountered “very aggressive” resistance and was fired.
The usual response here is to blame the consumers: if people get fat and die from eating garbage and drinking poison, perhaps they shouldn’t be buying it. If companies are selling products loaded with sugar and fat, it’s because people really like sugar and fat. This is is always the way the industry responds. At a meeting of food executives in which a Kraft vice president tried to convince his peers to step up on nutrition, discussion came to a close when the CEO of General Mills vigorously defended existing practice. As the Times summarized:
“[Consumers were fickle.] Sometimes they worried about sugar, other times fat. General Mills, he said, acted responsibly to both the public and shareholders by offering products to satisfy dieters and other concerned shoppers, from low sugar to added whole grains. But most often, he said, people bought what they liked, and they liked what tasted good. “Don’t talk to me about nutrition,” he reportedly said, taking on the voice of the typical consumer. “Talk to me about taste, and if this stuff tastes better, don’t run around trying to sell stuff that doesn’t taste good.” To react to the critics, Sanger said, would jeopardize the sanctity of the recipes that had made his products so successful. General Mills would not pull back. He would push his people onward, and he urged his peers to do the same.”
The former CEO of Philip Morris (now Altria), which owns Kraft, affirmed this, adding that it partially arises from the pressure of a highly competitive market:
“People could point to these things and say, ‘They’ve got too much sugar, they’ve got too much salt… Well, that’s what the consumer wants, and we’re not putting a gun to their head to eat it. That’s what they want. If we give them less, they’ll buy less, and the competitor will get our market. So you’re sort of trapped.”
This has been the consensus view. Those within the industry who have pushed for reform have gotten nowhere, and it’s obvious why: as the Philip Morris CEO points out, a company that unilaterally decided to make its products healthier would not actually make the world healthier. It would just watch its market share plummet. So long as a company is concerned primarily with revenue and profit, asking it to care about nutrition is asking it to stop caring about its entire institutional purpose. It is like asking a drug pusher to sign on to an initiative to make heroin less addictive. Good luck.
It’s long past time to discard the idea that companies just give people “what they want,” and that blame for the popularity of inferior products rests with consumers. First, it’s easy to understand why there needs to be a conceptual difference between “what people buy” and “what people want.” That’s because people don’t want to die of heart disease, and yet they buy things that make them more likely to die of heart disease. And it’s not enough to say that they must simply prefer “eating badly” to “not dying”: if you ask them, they’ll tell you they’d much rather not have diabetes. But they do. And part of the reason they do is that an entire multibillion dollar industry is dedicated to finding ways to make sure they keep eating poorly. (...)
The harms of a corporate food system do not affect everyone equally. Instead, they fall disproportionately on the poor, who have less time for food preparation and information gathering, and thus default to fast food for its convenience. Disparities in health consequences reflect that fact: less well-off people have worse diets and suffer obesity, heart disease, and diabetes in greater numbers. A privatized system of nutrition delivery, predictably, delivers the worst outcomes to those with the least money.
Examining the food system in detail is instructive because it reveals a lot about how free markets work and don’t work. We can imagine how things would play out if the same system were relied upon to deliver education: a few big companies would end up running most of the schools. Individuals could go to whichever school they could pay for. But since school companies would be competing with each other, and trying to maximize profits, they would be incentivized to spend as little as possible educating students, while deceiving parents into thinking their children were learning more than they actually were. Just as food companies do better not when they offer health but when they offer the appearance of health, school companies would adopt branding techniques that made them appear high-quality (use of the word “academy,” fancy seal, uniforms, etc.) while trying to spend as little money as possible on actually educating the child. For-profit education will be as “educational” as for-profit products like Coca-Cola are “nutritional.”
My friend Sarah likes to describe capitalism by comparing it to the “paperclip maximizer.” The paperclip maximizer is a thought experiment used to warn about the potentially deadly effects of artificial intelligence. It’s about how a machine given the wrong instructions will produce the wrong results. You have an intelligent robot, and you’d like him to collect paperclips. So you program the robot with the following instruction: “Maximize the number of paperclips in your possession.” Then you set it loose. The robot first goes around the world collecting all the existing paperclips. But once it has them all, it still isn’t finished. After all, it must maximize the number of paperclips it has. So it begins turning everything it finds into paperclips. Soon, the entire planet is nothing but a wasteland of paperclips. Eventually, the universe itself will be a vast cosmic heap of paperclips. A seemingly benign instruction, carried out with precision and efficiency, destroyed the world. [ed. Parable of the paperclip maximizer.]
Corporations can operate similarly. The Coca-Cola company follows a mandate: “raise revenue by selling drinks.” It sounds innocent. But the result is perverse: the company simply tries to get “as many ounces as possible into as many bodies as possible.” Every additional Coca-Cola sold is an additional dollar of revenue. There is no upper limit, then. “Growth potential” is all that matters, regardless of other consequences. And the lives of people only matter to the extent that keeping them alive longer will allow them to drink more Coke. I’m not exaggerating here. Those are the words of the Coca-Cola executives. And they flow perfectly rationally from the structure of the institution.
Capitalism is very effective at increasing production. Even Karl Marx was impressed with its achievements. But it also only works to the extent that the institutional incentives will, when followed, produce good results. People who defend capitalism do think it produces good results, because the incentive is to sell as many goods as possible, and that means selling the products that people want to buy. But, like the paperclip maximizer, “sell the goods that people will buy” is a benign rule that leads to a perverse result. A company that takes a poll of the things people want in a snack, and sells a snack with those qualities, will probably do well. But a company that researches ways to trigger biological cravings, and use subtle branding cues to trick people into thinking the product is better than it is, will do even better. The theory of a free market works at the “lemonade stand” level. Yet the paperclip robot, too, works at first: it’s what happens when the imperatives are carried to their endpoint that is so destructive. Capitalism, carried to its endpoint, will devour the earth, because that’s what its programming requires.
So it would be best if the school system did not operate like the food system. But perhaps we should be thinking about the opposite as well: what if the food system operated more like the public school system? What if there was a “public option” for food?
Public schools are an “option” because they already exist within a market for schools. If you’d like to, you can opt out of the public school system and send your children to a private school. Even Britain’s single-payer health service, the NHS, is a public “option” of a kind, because people can still pay for private health insurance and private hospitals if they choose. (Because most people are satisfied with the NHS, however, only a fraction of people do this.) A public option is useful because it doesn’t have to think about profit, it can just think about providing the public with what they need.
Let us imagine a public option for food. It is a state-funded restaurant called the American Free Diner. At the American Free Diner, anyone can show up and eat, and the food is free. It’s designed to be as healthy as possible while still being pretty tasty. It’s not going to be tastier than McDonalds fries, but the aim of the American Free Diner is not to get you to hooked on having as many meals as possible, it’s designed to get you to have a satisfying and nutritionally complete meal. And there are options. For breakfast you can have eggs and (veggie?) bacon with fruit, oatmeal, avocado on toast, or a smoothie. Lunch is soups, salads, and sandwiches. Oh, and you can also always stop by and grab free fruit or other snacks. Now, you have to eat your meal during the time you’re in the restaurant, so there’s no smuggling food away and selling it. Anyone can have up to three meals a day there; you sign up with an ID and then you get a card. If you ate at the American Free Diner for every meal, you’d be meeting every possible recommended nutritional guideline. Every town has an American Free Diner in it. The music is great and there’s a buzzing neon sign. but it’s nothing too fancy.
Our “public option” for food does not mean people can’t go elsewhere, just as our public school system doesn’t mean that people can’t enroll in private schools. But it does ensure that anyone who wants to can turn up and get a high-quality meal for free, without having to have much information on their own, without having to have any money, and without having to do very much. Now, the question is: what would happen? I think you’d see a lot of people taking their meals at the American Free Diner. That’s because the food is free. And that would be a very good thing indeed, because every meal eaten there is a healthy meal. Who wouldn’t eat at the American Free Diner? Well, rich people wouldn’t eat there, because they can afford even nicer food. But rich people also enroll their children in private schools. They’re not the target population here. What we’re trying to do is make sure that everyone has access to a baseline level of nutrition, just like everyone should have access to a baseline level of education.
Personally, I think the Free Diner is our best way of solving our national nutrition crisis. Currently, we try to provide nutrition to the poor with a “voucher” system. That has a couple of problems. First, people don’t know what to buy, so they are highly susceptible to being manipulated. Second, buying groceries and making meals at home is incredibly time-consuming, which is one reason people tend toward fast food. The Diner solves these problems. It doesn’t restrict your choices, you can still buy whatever you want on the free market. But it does offer you one more choice: eat free, healthy meals at the Free Diner.
by Nathan J. Robinson, Current Affairs | Read more:
Image: uncredited
“[Consumers were fickle.] Sometimes they worried about sugar, other times fat. General Mills, he said, acted responsibly to both the public and shareholders by offering products to satisfy dieters and other concerned shoppers, from low sugar to added whole grains. But most often, he said, people bought what they liked, and they liked what tasted good. “Don’t talk to me about nutrition,” he reportedly said, taking on the voice of the typical consumer. “Talk to me about taste, and if this stuff tastes better, don’t run around trying to sell stuff that doesn’t taste good.” To react to the critics, Sanger said, would jeopardize the sanctity of the recipes that had made his products so successful. General Mills would not pull back. He would push his people onward, and he urged his peers to do the same.”
The former CEO of Philip Morris (now Altria), which owns Kraft, affirmed this, adding that it partially arises from the pressure of a highly competitive market:
“People could point to these things and say, ‘They’ve got too much sugar, they’ve got too much salt… Well, that’s what the consumer wants, and we’re not putting a gun to their head to eat it. That’s what they want. If we give them less, they’ll buy less, and the competitor will get our market. So you’re sort of trapped.”
This has been the consensus view. Those within the industry who have pushed for reform have gotten nowhere, and it’s obvious why: as the Philip Morris CEO points out, a company that unilaterally decided to make its products healthier would not actually make the world healthier. It would just watch its market share plummet. So long as a company is concerned primarily with revenue and profit, asking it to care about nutrition is asking it to stop caring about its entire institutional purpose. It is like asking a drug pusher to sign on to an initiative to make heroin less addictive. Good luck.
It’s long past time to discard the idea that companies just give people “what they want,” and that blame for the popularity of inferior products rests with consumers. First, it’s easy to understand why there needs to be a conceptual difference between “what people buy” and “what people want.” That’s because people don’t want to die of heart disease, and yet they buy things that make them more likely to die of heart disease. And it’s not enough to say that they must simply prefer “eating badly” to “not dying”: if you ask them, they’ll tell you they’d much rather not have diabetes. But they do. And part of the reason they do is that an entire multibillion dollar industry is dedicated to finding ways to make sure they keep eating poorly. (...)
The harms of a corporate food system do not affect everyone equally. Instead, they fall disproportionately on the poor, who have less time for food preparation and information gathering, and thus default to fast food for its convenience. Disparities in health consequences reflect that fact: less well-off people have worse diets and suffer obesity, heart disease, and diabetes in greater numbers. A privatized system of nutrition delivery, predictably, delivers the worst outcomes to those with the least money.
Examining the food system in detail is instructive because it reveals a lot about how free markets work and don’t work. We can imagine how things would play out if the same system were relied upon to deliver education: a few big companies would end up running most of the schools. Individuals could go to whichever school they could pay for. But since school companies would be competing with each other, and trying to maximize profits, they would be incentivized to spend as little as possible educating students, while deceiving parents into thinking their children were learning more than they actually were. Just as food companies do better not when they offer health but when they offer the appearance of health, school companies would adopt branding techniques that made them appear high-quality (use of the word “academy,” fancy seal, uniforms, etc.) while trying to spend as little money as possible on actually educating the child. For-profit education will be as “educational” as for-profit products like Coca-Cola are “nutritional.”
My friend Sarah likes to describe capitalism by comparing it to the “paperclip maximizer.” The paperclip maximizer is a thought experiment used to warn about the potentially deadly effects of artificial intelligence. It’s about how a machine given the wrong instructions will produce the wrong results. You have an intelligent robot, and you’d like him to collect paperclips. So you program the robot with the following instruction: “Maximize the number of paperclips in your possession.” Then you set it loose. The robot first goes around the world collecting all the existing paperclips. But once it has them all, it still isn’t finished. After all, it must maximize the number of paperclips it has. So it begins turning everything it finds into paperclips. Soon, the entire planet is nothing but a wasteland of paperclips. Eventually, the universe itself will be a vast cosmic heap of paperclips. A seemingly benign instruction, carried out with precision and efficiency, destroyed the world. [ed. Parable of the paperclip maximizer.]
Corporations can operate similarly. The Coca-Cola company follows a mandate: “raise revenue by selling drinks.” It sounds innocent. But the result is perverse: the company simply tries to get “as many ounces as possible into as many bodies as possible.” Every additional Coca-Cola sold is an additional dollar of revenue. There is no upper limit, then. “Growth potential” is all that matters, regardless of other consequences. And the lives of people only matter to the extent that keeping them alive longer will allow them to drink more Coke. I’m not exaggerating here. Those are the words of the Coca-Cola executives. And they flow perfectly rationally from the structure of the institution.
Capitalism is very effective at increasing production. Even Karl Marx was impressed with its achievements. But it also only works to the extent that the institutional incentives will, when followed, produce good results. People who defend capitalism do think it produces good results, because the incentive is to sell as many goods as possible, and that means selling the products that people want to buy. But, like the paperclip maximizer, “sell the goods that people will buy” is a benign rule that leads to a perverse result. A company that takes a poll of the things people want in a snack, and sells a snack with those qualities, will probably do well. But a company that researches ways to trigger biological cravings, and use subtle branding cues to trick people into thinking the product is better than it is, will do even better. The theory of a free market works at the “lemonade stand” level. Yet the paperclip robot, too, works at first: it’s what happens when the imperatives are carried to their endpoint that is so destructive. Capitalism, carried to its endpoint, will devour the earth, because that’s what its programming requires.
So it would be best if the school system did not operate like the food system. But perhaps we should be thinking about the opposite as well: what if the food system operated more like the public school system? What if there was a “public option” for food?
Public schools are an “option” because they already exist within a market for schools. If you’d like to, you can opt out of the public school system and send your children to a private school. Even Britain’s single-payer health service, the NHS, is a public “option” of a kind, because people can still pay for private health insurance and private hospitals if they choose. (Because most people are satisfied with the NHS, however, only a fraction of people do this.) A public option is useful because it doesn’t have to think about profit, it can just think about providing the public with what they need.
Let us imagine a public option for food. It is a state-funded restaurant called the American Free Diner. At the American Free Diner, anyone can show up and eat, and the food is free. It’s designed to be as healthy as possible while still being pretty tasty. It’s not going to be tastier than McDonalds fries, but the aim of the American Free Diner is not to get you to hooked on having as many meals as possible, it’s designed to get you to have a satisfying and nutritionally complete meal. And there are options. For breakfast you can have eggs and (veggie?) bacon with fruit, oatmeal, avocado on toast, or a smoothie. Lunch is soups, salads, and sandwiches. Oh, and you can also always stop by and grab free fruit or other snacks. Now, you have to eat your meal during the time you’re in the restaurant, so there’s no smuggling food away and selling it. Anyone can have up to three meals a day there; you sign up with an ID and then you get a card. If you ate at the American Free Diner for every meal, you’d be meeting every possible recommended nutritional guideline. Every town has an American Free Diner in it. The music is great and there’s a buzzing neon sign. but it’s nothing too fancy.
Our “public option” for food does not mean people can’t go elsewhere, just as our public school system doesn’t mean that people can’t enroll in private schools. But it does ensure that anyone who wants to can turn up and get a high-quality meal for free, without having to have much information on their own, without having to have any money, and without having to do very much. Now, the question is: what would happen? I think you’d see a lot of people taking their meals at the American Free Diner. That’s because the food is free. And that would be a very good thing indeed, because every meal eaten there is a healthy meal. Who wouldn’t eat at the American Free Diner? Well, rich people wouldn’t eat there, because they can afford even nicer food. But rich people also enroll their children in private schools. They’re not the target population here. What we’re trying to do is make sure that everyone has access to a baseline level of nutrition, just like everyone should have access to a baseline level of education.
Personally, I think the Free Diner is our best way of solving our national nutrition crisis. Currently, we try to provide nutrition to the poor with a “voucher” system. That has a couple of problems. First, people don’t know what to buy, so they are highly susceptible to being manipulated. Second, buying groceries and making meals at home is incredibly time-consuming, which is one reason people tend toward fast food. The Diner solves these problems. It doesn’t restrict your choices, you can still buy whatever you want on the free market. But it does offer you one more choice: eat free, healthy meals at the Free Diner.
by Nathan J. Robinson, Current Affairs | Read more:
Image: uncredited
