Hi, it's Phoebe. We're heading back out on tour this fall, bringing our 10th anniversary show to even more cities. Austin, Tucson, Boulder, Portland, Oregon, Detroit, Madison, Northampton, and Atlanta, we're coming your way. Come and hear seven brand new stories told live on stage by me and Criminal co-creator Lauren Spohr. We think it's the best live show we've ever done. Tickets are on sale now at thisiscriminal.com slash live. See you very soon.
Hey, I'm Sean Ely. For more than 70 years, people from all political backgrounds have been using the word Orwellian to mean whatever they want it to mean.
But what did George Orwell actually stand for? Orwell was not just an advocate for free speech, even though he was that. But he was an advocate for truth in speech. He's someone who argues that you should be able to say that 2 plus 2 equals 4. We'll meet the real George Orwell, a man who was prescient and flawed, this week on The Gray Area. In 1866, a 49-year-old French chemist entered a contest.
The contest was hosted by the French government under the leadership of Napoleon III, the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte. Napoleon III had started the contest because he was worried. He was worried that if France was attacked and had to go to war, they might run out of butter. They had a prize that was offered at the Paris World Exhibition to create an affordable butter substitute. Historian and food writer April White...
The chemist who entered the contest had already won another prize for improving a common syphilis drug. He then got interested in food and created a new baking technique that allowed you to get 14% more bread from your ingredients. And then he heard about Napoleon's butter competition. His creation included water and beef fat, and he won the prize.
The chemist decided to call his substance oleomargarine, a name he created by combining the Greek word for pearl with the Latin word for beef fat. Oleomargarine didn't have to be kept cold, and most importantly, it was cheap. Today, we just call it margarine. And while it solved problems in France, it created problems in the United States.
So in 1875, you start seeing the first margarine production in the United States. And then not that many years later, you start seeing the backlash, where you see dairy producers concerned about how oleomargarine could cut into their profits, cut into their business. Dairy producers said that choosing margarine over butter would deprive Americans of, quote, life-promoting vitamins.
without which human infants cannot continue to live. One margarine opponent said, "The ingenuity of depraved human genius has culminated in the production of oleomargarine." They called it, quote, "the demon spread." I'm Phoebe Judge. This is Criminal. Dairy producers were so upset about margarine that they started working together, essentially creating a new dairy lobby, asking the government to protect them.
In 1886, Congress passed the Oleo Margarine Act. It put a tax on margarine, and it required grocers to get a license if they wanted to sell it. And it was being enforced. A butter and cheese detective started sneaking into grocery stores to see what was going on. In 1911, brothers Joseph and Tony Wirth were sent to Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary in Kansas for illegal oleo margarine commerce.
Dairy producers were happy. People kept buying butter. Why did the dairy industry have this sway? I mean, forcing people to buy a product that was maybe more expensive.
Well, you really had the dairy industry being an important economic engine for a lot of states in the country. And I'm particularly thinking of Wisconsin. And Wisconsin at this point is sort of transitioning from being a state that was largely producing wheat to a state that has got lots and lots of cows.
We have a lot of rolling hills and rolling fields. Jenny Peek is a journalist and a lifelong Midwesterner. You know, I've always said that my favorite state in the country is Wisconsin. Why is that? I mean, I've just, I've always loved Wisconsin. I like northern Wisconsin. I even like the middle of Wisconsin.
Wisconsin is the number two nationwide milk producer, and we generate 2.44 billion pounds of milk per month. I'm trying to guess who number one is. Can I try to guess? Do you know? Ooh, you know what? I don't know. Who do you think it is? I think it's probably California. Oh, I was going to say Iowa. You think California? It turns out it is California.
They overtook Wisconsin as the country's biggest dairy producer in the 90s. I think it has to just do with how big California is. It's not fair to compete with that. I bet the quality's not that good. Back in the late 1800s, Wisconsin, along with 23 other states, passed laws that restricted the production and sale of margarine. There was a lot of focus on its color.
And the idea was you were trying to create fake butter if it was yellow. So you could not dye your oleo margin, which is white when it is produced, you could not dye it yellow. Now, the sort of ironic thing about that is that butter itself was dyed yellow so that it would be a consistent color over the course of the year. And dairy producers insisted that only butter could be yellow.
In some states, including Vermont and New Hampshire, margarine had to be dyed pink to be as unappealing as possible. In Wisconsin, margarine had to be white.
One of my favorite kind of references to it in an old historical paper is that it was a corpse-like white, which makes it sound very unappealing. And it was in an attempt to really encourage people to buy butter because nobody wanted that white substance. ♪
Did you have margarine or butter growing up on your table? As dairy farmers, we would not think about having margarine anywhere in the house. It was blasphemous to even talk about it. Jerry Apps was born in 1934 and worked for 30 years as a professor of agriculture at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. He grew up on a small farm in central Wisconsin. We had about 15 cows that we milked.
And of course, we milked those 15 cows by hand. My dad and I did the milking and twice a day for 365 days a year. We finally got electricity in 1947. And at that time, we got a milking machine and doubled the herd size and lessened the hand milking time.
Jerry's parents were firmly anti-margarine. I don't remember knowing anybody, except maybe some of our city relatives, bless their economic hearts, who would have margarine. I knew no farmer
Did you ever have to go and visit those relatives in the city? And would they try to serve you margarine? No, they knew better than that. It was sort of like in the same category as... You didn't discuss religion with your relatives much either. And sometimes if you knew where they stood on politics, you avoided that. And in the same way,
You avoided getting into a big argument about what's better, margarine or butter. We'll be right back. Hey, Sue Bird here. I'm Megan Rapinoe. Women's sports are reaching new heights these days, and there's so much to talk about. So Megan and I are launching a podcast where we're going to deep dive into all things sports and then some. We're calling it A Touch More.
Because women's sports is everything. Pop culture, economics, politics, you name it. And there's no better folks than us to talk about what happens on the court or on the field and everywhere else too. And we'll have a whole bunch of friends on the show to help us break things down. We're talking athletes, actors, comedians, maybe even our moms. That'll be a fun episode.
Whether it's breaking down the biggest games or discussing the latest headlines, we'll be bringing a touch more insight into the world of sports and beyond. Follow A Touch More wherever you get your podcasts. New episodes drop every Wednesday.
The Walt Disney Company is a sprawling business. It's got movies, studios, theme parks, cable networks, a streaming service. It's a lot. So it can be hard to find just the right person to lead it all. When you have a leader with the singularly creative mind and leadership that Walt Disney had, it like goes away and disappears. I mean, you can expect what will happen. The problem is Disney CEOs have trouble letting go.
After 15 years, Bob Iger finally handed off the reins in 2020. His retirement did not last long. He now has a big black mark on his legacy because after pushing back his retirement over and over again, when he finally did choose a successor, it didn't go well for anybody involved.
And of course, now there's a sort of a bake-off going on. Everybody watching, who could it be? I don't think there's anyone where it's like the obvious no-brainer. That's not the case. I'm Joe Adalian. Vulture and the Vox Media Podcast Network present Land of the Giants, The Disney Dilemma. Follow wherever you listen to hear new episodes every Wednesday.
While you couldn't buy and sell yellow margarine in Wisconsin, it had to be white, there was no rule that said you couldn't turn it yellow yourself once you got it home. Margarine producers started to include a pack of yellow dye. Sometimes they called it a color berry, which you squeezed and then kneaded into a chunk of white margarine inside a plastic bag. Journalist Jenny Peek says her father-in-law remembers mixing the dye.
And he said it took like 10 to 15 minutes and just made a big mess. And the first time he did it, it felt really fun. But the luxury of it quickly waned. It also, you know, the texture changed. It warmed up. Then you had to find a bowl to keep it in. Whereas butter just came in a stick. And it just sounds considerably more simple. ♪
The dairy lobby tried hard to discredit margarine. Some people called it a, quote, poor man's butter, low status, an artificial spread dyed in strange colors. But it was popular. And when World War II led to a national butter shortage, the demand for margarine went through the roof.
When we see rationing in World War II, we see an increased demand. Whenever margarine was cheaper or more readily available, you see an increased demand for margarine over butter. And so after World War II, by 1950, they've repealed the margarine taxes. Without the taxes, margarine was much cheaper than butter. And it wasn't just that it was cheap. Some people thought it tasted better.
People liked that it was softer and more spreadable than butter, even after it had been refrigerated. Here's Eleanor Roosevelt in a 1959 commercial for good luck margarine. Years ago, most people never dreamed of eating margarine. But times have changed. Nowadays, you can get a margarine like the new good luck, which really tastes delicious. That's what I've spread on my toast. Good luck. I thoroughly enjoy it.
Most states pulled back their color restrictions, letting manufacturers sell yellow margarine, but not Wisconsin. Their dairy lobby was holding firm, and a group of margarine lovers decided to fight back. The New York Times described their chairman as indomitable, and the group itself as a powerful lobby. They were called the Wisconsin Federation of Women's Clubs.
They did volunteer work, they raised money for a local pediatrics ward, and they helped out at blood banks and arranged art exhibitions. At one club meeting, one woman demonstrated how to make paper decorations. At another, a member presented her collection of dolls. The chairperson for the Federation was Fran Anderson. People usually referred to her in reference to her husband, Mrs. R.V. Anderson.
She was a housewife from East Troy, Wisconsin, and a passionate, aggressive, and unpaid lobbyist. She had made sure Wisconsin passed restrictions so raw sewage couldn't be dumped in inappropriate places. And she'd fought to ban a specific type of detergent, which was polluting local streams, filling them with foam. People had nicknamed her Foamy Fran or Cesspool Annie. ♪
One newspaper described her as the symbol of power, a lobbyist in petticoats. And she wanted yellow margarine. It was what the people wanted, she argued. And she knew that for a fact, because she herself was illegally smuggling it into the state, along with her friends. So they'd go, they'd go across the border. Yeah, yeah.
The women would travel to Illinois. You'd go across the border and you would pack your trunk. And the pictures from this time are showing middle-aged women, likely homemakers, you know, with their hair set in their little hats and their nice coats, loading the trunks of their cars with cases of oleomargarine. Salespeople would set up near the border to make things easier.
The way you do for firework shops or liquor stores today. I mean, you have to picture this. On the border, you would have a shop that had a big sign above it that said Oleo. People all over Wisconsin were doing it. The New York Times reported in 1966, there's a little old lady from Sheboygan who's a bootlegger.
The Sheboygan lady and all her fellow oleo smugglers could be fined up to $500 and sent to prison for a year. Jenny Peek.
My father-in-law himself, they would ask their neighbors when they were heading down to Waukegan or into the Illinois area if anyone needed any oleo or if anyone needed any margarine. And oftentimes a neighbor or a friend would say, oh, yeah, sure, pick me up a case. And so they would head back with a trunk full of margarine, yellow margarine. But not everyone got away with it.
So, for instance, this is in 1954. There's actually a county sheriff who is charged with serving Olio at an Appleton jail in Wisconsin. The sheriff reportedly got the margarine by making a prisoner smuggle it in.
And there's actually an arrest warrant put out for him. He eventually surrenders. He doesn't get arrested. But an arrest warrant put out for him for having two cases of oleo margarine in the Appleton jail.
Some people were smuggling margarine as protest. You see members of the Wisconsin Federation of Women's Clubs actually trying to get arrested smuggling oleo margarine so that they can make a point about the absurdity of this law. In 1964, Fran Anderson explained to a newspaper reporter why Wisconsin should repeal its ban on yellow margarine. She said, quote, "...who wants to squeeze the bag?"
One of her supporters wrote in an editorial, Wisconsin dairymen insist on making it unfairly bothersome and unfairly expensive for housewives to buy margarine if they want it. Fran started attending hearings and got a new nickname, Mrs. Olio. She attended one hearing wearing a green dress. One of the speakers, who is anti-yellow margarine, said that maybe margarine should be, quote, the color of Mrs. Anderson's dress,
After that, Fran got a yellow dress. So you see this fight throughout the 1960s. You see the Wisconsin Federation of Women's Clubs advocating when they testify, the representative is usually dressed in butter yellow. Oh, wow. They took this seriously.
And, you know, as we're talking about overturning these Wisconsin laws, which is the only place where you still have these real strict laws against oleo margarine, there is a fight in the statehouse over overturning this law. And one senator who wants to overturn the law sets up a taste test in the legislature. This is in June of 1965.
And he invites some of his Senate colleagues to come and taste margarine and butter while they are blindfolded. Senator Gordon Roselip accepted the invitation. He was a strong opponent of oleomargarine and wanted to uphold the ban. The test took place during lunch hour in the Senate chambers.
Blindfolded, Roselip stood in front of a table with plates lined up in front of him. One plate had several pieces of bread, each covered with a different spread. Another senator fed him a piece of bread. He took a bite. That's oleo, he said. It was butter.
It hit the newspapers. I mean, it was the story of the year. Jerry Epps. This guy can't tell the difference between butter and margarine. Everybody laughed about poor old Gordon Roselup not knowing the difference between butter and margarine. Now, there's a really interesting coda to this.
After this legislator died, a family member of his revealed that he was actually at a disadvantage in this taste test. And it's because his wife had long ago subbed out margarine for butter in their home because she was afraid of health concerns for him. In May 1967, a group of women showed up at the state capitol in Madison, most of them dressed in yellow.
The governor was expected to repeal the oleoban. Fran Anderson was there, right next to the governor. He called her the mother of the effort. When it was time to sign, she handed the governor a yellow pen with yellow ink. What were people saying when the ban was lifted? Hooray, the urban people said.
The rural people said, oh, good Lord, what next? Or something similar. And the language was far less polite than the language I just used. Fran Anderson moved on to other fights. She told one newspaper reporter who asked her what she was going to focus on next. First and foremost, there's pornography. We'll be right back.
Hi, everyone. This is Kara Swisher, host of On with Kara Swisher from New York Magazine and Vox Media. We've had some great guests on the pod this summer, and we are not slowing down. Last month, we had MSNBC's Rachel Maddow on, then two separate expert panels to talk about everything going on in the presidential race, and there's a lot going on, and Ron Klain, President Biden's former chief of staff. And it keeps on getting better. This week, we have the one and only former Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi. And
After the drama of the last two weeks and President Biden's decision to step out of the race, a lot of people think the speaker has some explaining to do. And I definitely went there with her, although she's a tough nut, as you'll find. The full episode is out now, and you can listen wherever you get your podcasts. Starting in 1967, people in Wisconsin were now able to buy yellow margarine. But some parts of the old laws remained, and they last even today.
The piece of this that stays in place is a ban on serving oleo margarine in place of butter in...
Jails, schools, and restaurants. I can actually read the regulation for you because it's current law. It says, the serving of colored oleo margarine or margarine at a public eating place as a substitute for table butter is prohibited unless it is ordered by the customer. So if I were to go to Wisconsin into a restaurant in the whole state of Wisconsin, unless I specifically asked for margarine, I would be served butter.
According to the letter of the law. Yes, hello. My name is Phoebe Judge, and I'm the host of a podcast. And I just wondered, do you serve margarine at the diner? Um, no. We decided we would call some restaurants in Wisconsin to see how they deal with this butter law. I just had a question. And we're doing a story about butter in Wisconsin, and I was just wondering... I'm not a farmer, though.
No, I know. I was just wondering, can you get margarine in the restaurant there or just butter? We use butter. All of the restaurants we called were in compliance with Wisconsin law. Margarine served only if asked for. Like if they are allergic to butter or something? Wouldn't that be sad if you were allergic to butter? It would be very sad because I love butter. Ha ha ha ha!
But you've been working in restaurants for like over a decade? Yeah. And never one asked for margarine? Never once have I been asked for margarine, no. Always butter. What do you like better, butter or margarine?
Are you from Wisconsin? That must be kind of rare because, like, it's such a dairy state. You're the one person in Wisconsin who cannot help me talk about butter because you don't eat it. That's okay.
What's the most popular item on the menu there? Country fried steak. And what would you guys like to drink? Just one second. And for you, hon? Okay. Diet Pepsi, fine? Okay. Yep, go ahead. Now I can talk again. So those people who are sitting down at the table, they're probably not going to be asking for margarine. They would like butter, too. Yes. Did you always have butter growing up? Yep, we didn't believe in that soft stuff. We always believed in the hardcore butter. Have you always eaten? Yeah, margarine is bad.
Today, you could still technically get a $500 fine and be sentenced to three months in county jail for breaking Wisconsin's oleo laws. In 2011, a state representative told a reporter, I literally googled stupid Wisconsin laws, and this one came up as number one. He tried to get it repealed, but it didn't work.
But these days, there's a new fight brewing in Wisconsin. I mean, there are huge conversations happening in both the nation but Wisconsin for sure about plant-based milks, oat milk, almond milk, soy milk, and whether or not they should be able to be called milk. And not surprisingly, the Wisconsin dairy industry thinks they should not be called milk.
But last year, the FDA issued a recommendation and said plant-based milks can continue to use the word milk. And it has milk folks, the dairy industry, and even our U.S. Senator Tammy Baldwin pretty upset. Tammy Baldwin has introduced a bill called the Dairy Pride Act. It says that, quote, a food is a dairy product only if it is derived from lactyl secretion.
and is, quote, obtained by the complete milking of one or more hooved mammals. Anyone else calling their products milk would be forced to remove those terms from their packaging. Senator Baldwin says she wants, quote, "imitations and impostors to stop using dairy's good name." Criminal is created by Lauren Spohr and me. Nadia Wilson is our senior producer. Katie Bishop is our supervising producer.
Our producers are Susanna Robertson, Jackie Sachiko, Lily Clark, Lena Sillison, and Megan Kinane. Our show is mixed and engineered by Veronica Simonetti. Julian Alexander makes original illustrations for each episode of Criminal. You can see them at thisiscriminal.com. And you can sign up for our newsletter at thisiscriminal.com slash newsletter. Special thanks to Sam Kim and Rochelle Wilson and to the GFWC Women's Club of East Troy.
We hope you'll join our new membership program, Criminal Plus. Once you sign up, you can listen to criminal episodes without any ads. And you'll get bonus episodes with me and criminal co-creator Laurence Ford, too. To learn more, go to thisiscriminal.com slash plus. We're on Facebook and Twitter at Criminal Show and Instagram at criminal underscore podcast. We're also on YouTube at youtube.com slash criminal podcast.
Criminal is part of the Vox Media Podcast Network. Discover more great shows at podcast.voxmedia.com. I'm Phoebe Judge. This is Criminal. ♪