Iron Age Mediterranean men ate more meat than women. A necropolis study confirms it using bone chemistry to read what bodies stored during their years of life.
Skeletal isotope ratios don't lie. The researchers documented the disparity and closed the file, waving at "social hierarchy" and "cultural practice" as possible causes before treating the question as settled.
But this gap wasn't a cosmetic preference. Lower meat consumption means lower bioavailable iron during the years a woman's body needed it most. Childbearing age — when pregnancy and lactation compound the demand.
A woman eating primarily grain and legume protein while losing blood monthly, then losing more through pregnancy, enters a metabolic state the body addresses by shutting down non-essential processes. Bone density drops. Hemoglobin falls. The necropolis has skeletal markers for anemia and bone porosity data. These bodies are records of nutritional stress at the cellular level.
Yet the research stops at "men ate better," as if documenting inequality were the same as understanding its consequences.
Yet the research stops at "men ate better," as if documenting inequality were the same as understanding its consequences. It isn't. The real question hidden in those bones is what happened to women's health across their lifespans. And what maternal and infant mortality rates were baked into a system where female nutrition was rationed. This is what happens when we mistake diagnosis for explanation. We see the symptom, name it, publish it, and move on without following the chain to what it actually cost. The pattern repeats in modern workplace nutrition research, where we document that women in certain industries eat fewer calories at lunch than men, then congratulate ourselves for measuring the gap instead of asking what happens to their afternoon cognition, their energy levels two hours before they leave, their cumulative fatigue across a career.
The necropolis demands we do better.