23 January 2014

Fishy

Students have noted my irreverent comments - or merely incredulity - about "wild krill oil" (alongside their suggestions that we start breeding docile and oh so domesticated non-wild krill on campus) and regulation in Australia of nutraceuticals.

The New York Times reports that a study of 30 top-selling fish oil supplements, identifying levels of omega-3 fatty acids, found that six of the products contained levels that were on average 30 percent less than stated on the label.

The Times indicates that fish oil products reportedly generate some U$1.2 billion in annual sales but "like most supplements" they are "largely unregulated", given that there is no requirement for registration with the Food and Drug Administration or provision of proof that the capsules and liquids "contain the ingredients on their labels and the doses advertised".

In Australia I trust that we'd invoke the Competition & Consumer Act 2010 (Cth) regarding misrepresentation and presume that products from local manufacturers are consistent with what's claimed in the advertising.

The Times  indicates -
In the current analysis, researchers carried out detailed tests to assess the supplements’ omega-3 content, their levels of mercury, and the extent to which they showed any signs of rancidity or deterioration. Samples of each product were either purchased online on sites like Amazon or bought off the shelves in stores and tested immediately. Then they were ranked according to quality and value. ... 
several of the products it tested compared favorably to Lovaza, the prescription fish oil marketed by GlaxoSmithKline that can cost hundreds of dollars for a one-month supply. Lovaza is a prescription drug held to strict regulations, so it is subjected to regular quality control tests. But some of the products analyzed by LabDoor contained similar or greater levels of omega-3s at a fraction of the cost. 
The analysis showed, however, that mislabeling was not uncommon, affecting at least a third of the supplements tested. One of the products had only half the amount of DHA advertised, for example, and another contained only two thirds, said Neil Thanedar, the chief executive of LabDoor. There were also several products that did not mention DHA content on their labels at all.
DHA is docosahexaenoic acid, one of the omega-3s especially promoted for "brain and heart health". The tests noted by the Times indicates showed that at least six products contained DHA levels that were, on average, 14 percent less than listed on their packaging. 

Over in Canada, more pseudolaw with the Court in R. v. Duncan 2013 ONCJ 160 stating 

Mr. Duncan was self-represented. Other than a mildly annoying disinclination on his part to stand when addressing the court (although he did stand when questioning witnesses), he was a rather pleasant young man. Unfortunately, he was a rather pleasant young man whose mind was filled with what my late father would have called “notions”. 
 
It has been said that, given enough time, ten thousand monkeys with typewriters would probably eventually replicate the collected works of William Shakespeare. Sadly, when human beings are let loose with computers and internet access, their work product does not necessarily compare favourably to the aforementioned monkeys with typewriters. 
 
Thus it was that the trial began with Mr. Duncan objecting to us proceeding on the basis that I had no jurisdiction over him. Mr. Duncan provided me with an “affidavit of truth”, a rather substantial volume that appeared to me to be the result of somebody doing a Google search for terms like “jurisdiction” and the like and then cobbling them together in such a way that it makes James Joyce’s Ulysses look like an easy read. This hodgepodge of irrelevancies relied upon by Mr. Duncan was one of the misbegotten fruits of the internet. Finding it was a waste of Mr. Duncan’s time; printing it was a waste of trees and my reading it was a waste of my time and public money. With that volume as his starting point, Mr. Duncan spent some time explaining to me that I had no jurisdiction to try him, that he was not a citizen of the province or the country, that he was not a person as defined by my definitions, that there was no contract between him and me to give me status to sit in judgment over him and so on. As I have said, Mr. Duncan struck me as a perfectly pleasant young man, but on this issue he seemed a bit obtuse. I suppose that if perfectly pleasant young men weren’t led astray from time to time by drugs, alcohol, broken hearts or rubbish on the internet, then the dockets of provincial court wouldn’t be quite as plump as they usually are. 
 
The Evidence 
 
After much to-ing and fro-ing about jurisdiction, either Mr. Duncan or Matthew or his administrator (I never was quite sure which, they were all talking through the same corporeal form) entered a plea of “not guilty” on Mr. Duncan’s behalf and we proceeded to the evidence. ... 
 
We did not finish Mr. Duncan’s trial on the first day. As I left court that day and contemplated returning in the autumn to finish the trial, it occurred to me that I would have to write rather a lot to address the various procedural issues raised by Mr. Duncan in his tome and his verbal arguments. Now, don’t get me wrong about this; I’d be happy to write until the cows came home about matters of substance relating to the guilt or innocence of the defendant and the liberty interests of a citizen vis a vis the constabulary, but the idea of having to disentangle all of the palaver, nonsense and gobbledygook in the document Mr. Duncan presented to me was not particularly appealing. 
 
The Gods Are Kind 
 
There is an ancient proverb to the effect that “those whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad”. The prospect of disentangling Mr. Duncan’s adopted argument and his volume of internet-derived gibberish made me wonder if, for some reason, the gods had me in their cross-hairs. This concern, however, was dissipated in mid-September, 2012 when the gods made their benevolent nature clear. 
 
If December 7, 1941 is a day that will live in infamy, for anyone faced with “freemen on the land” or similar litigants, 18 September, 2012 is a day that will shine in virtue. On that day, Mr. Justice J.D. Rooke, the Associate Chief Justice of the Alberta Court of Queen’s Bench, delivered a judgment in the matrimonial case of Meads v. Meads 2012 ABQB 571. Given that the judgment weighs in at a mammoth 736 paragraphs, I wonder if these litigants are perhaps more prevalent in wild rose country than they are in Ontario. Be that as it may, Justice Rooke’s comprehensive judgment on what he labels “Organized Pseudolegal Commercial Argument Litigants” (of various iterations), wonderfully frees me from having to address any more effort to the jurisdictional arguments raised by Mr. Duncan. As I have said, there is a lot of patent rubbish on the internet; if Mr. Duncan wishes to while away a few hours more productively on something that actually makes sense, I commend Justice Rooke’s judgment on CanLII.org to him. 
 
There is no merit to Mr. Duncan’s jurisdictional argument. Such arguments are a waste of the court’s time and resources, a selfish and/or unthinking act of disrespect to other litigants and deserving of no further attention, energy or comment.

Notes by O'Donnell J include  

For readers under the age of thirty or so, the “typewriter” was a mechanical device used for creating documents that pre-dated the computer and lacked some of the computer’s more annoying characteristics, in particular the computer’s facilitation of “cutting and pasting”, which is undoubtedly one of the four horsemen of the modern apocalypse and which has cost many trees their lives and many lawyers and judges their eyesight. 
 
“William Shakespeare” was a sixteenth century English poet and playwright of some skill. He is remarkable insofar as he and Joseph Conrad are among the very few English-language authors of particular merit who were not either Irish or Scottish. 
 
The “internet”, also known as the “world-wide web” is a bi-polar electronic Leviathan that has erupted on the world scene in the past two decades. In its benevolent manifestations, it has enormously increased and expedited access to useful information of all sorts, increased global awareness of myriad events, facilitated family and commercial communication across national boundaries in the blink of an eye and helped topple dictators; it is probably fair to say that its advent is of no less significance than the invention of the printing press. However, just as the printing press has been put to odious use from time to time, the internet has its own Jekyll and Hyde nature: it is a near certainty that future generations will look back at these decades, obsessed as we are with the twin behemoths of “reality” television and the “ooh, look at me, I must tell the world what I had for breakfast” narcissism of social media and at the billions of hours thus lost to a near psychotropic electronic escape from any useful pursuit and wonder if Aldous Huxley only got a few details wrong in Brave New World. For the purposes of this case, the relevance of the internet is its un-policed “garbage in/garbage out” potential and its free-market-of-ideas potential to lure in otherwise pleasant and unsuspecting folk with all manner of absurdity and silliness. 
 
Lest anyone misunderstand me, this is by no means intended to compare Mr. Duncan to a monkey. As I have noted, Mr. Duncan seemed a decent fellow who expressed himself well (other than when rambling a bit too long about jurisdiction, as noted herein) and whose principal shortcomings appeared to be too much free time with internet access and too little discernment in whose example he followed. The reference to monkeys with typewriters is intended solely to point out that technological “advances” are sometimes used to such ends that one wonders if perhaps the Luddites didn’t have a point.