It doesn’t look edible, or smell appetising, and isn’t even especially harmful to ingest in most circumstances. Chances are that if I ever did want to eat silica gel, I’d probably have a damn good reason, and a lifetime of being told to not eat it is an obstacle to that.
People can be stupid. Shockingly stupid. Much like the infamous McDonald’s coffee case (which turns out to be much more sensible and fair a verdict when you read the details), I would not be surprised if there were a reason for the warning.
Or do you read the Darwin Awards and think they must ‘have a damn good reason’ for what they did?
I would not be surprised if there were a reason for the warning.
Silica gel packets look a lot like the sugar packets people use to sweeten coffee. Sugar packets are mostly handled by tired people. If silica gel wasn’t clearly labelled, a misplaced packet could be mistaken for sugar and poured into a drink. And since most people don’t know what the words “silica gel” mean, a direct description could be mistaken for branding.
In addition, they awarded her $2.7 million in punitive damages. The jurors apparently arrived at this figure from [the burn victim’s lawyer’s] suggestion to penalize McDonald’s for one or two days’ worth of coffee revenues, which were about $1.35 million per day.
So, yeah, I made the mistake of leaving a shoebox lying around where my ferrets could get in it, without first checking for silica packets. I don’t know whether one packet will do much to a human, but it’s definitely enough to give a small mammal a bad case of diahrrea (apologies for the image).
You were lucky. My family once left a sandal around and a ferret chewed on it, blocked her intestines up, and out of sentimentality we wound up paying the veterinarian like $1300 for the surgery.
The Darwin Awards are (when not apocryphal) extreme outliers, not case studies of common events.
I don’t doubt the warning is there for a reason, as desiccant packaging is presumably not acausal in nature. My point was that, actually, you can ingest silica gel, especially in small quantities, without suffering any ill effects, but the warning is so consistent and prevalent that it would lead you to believe otherwise, and if I ever did have good reason to eat silica gel, the warning is a needless obstacle.
Not that I foresee ever wanting to eat silica gel, but it does raise the question of how many similar events have assumed catastrophic outcomes that aren’t warranted.
People can also have pica. I think someone who felt inclined to eat things labeled “DO NOT EAT” would be more likely to seek medical attention than someone who felt inclined to eat unlabeled things.
As a teenager, sure. But there are lots of little critters that can both read warnings and which won’t be taken to the shrinks if they eat odd things.
(Who among us can truthfully claim to have never eaten a single inedible or socially disapproved substance in their lifetime? If someone does, they probably ought to go ask their parents what they think about such claims of incredible oral continence.)
People can be stupid. Shockingly stupid. Much like the infamous McDonald’s coffee case (which turns out to be much more sensible and fair a verdict when you read the details), I would not be surprised if there were a reason for the warning.
Or do you read the Darwin Awards and think they must ‘have a damn good reason’ for what they did?
Silica gel packets look a lot like the sugar packets people use to sweeten coffee. Sugar packets are mostly handled by tired people. If silica gel wasn’t clearly labelled, a misplaced packet could be mistaken for sugar and poured into a drink. And since most people don’t know what the words “silica gel” mean, a direct description could be mistaken for branding.
From the linked McDonald’s coffee case article:
Talk about a brilliant use of anchoring...
And if you think people are stupid...
So, yeah, I made the mistake of leaving a shoebox lying around where my ferrets could get in it, without first checking for silica packets. I don’t know whether one packet will do much to a human, but it’s definitely enough to give a small mammal a bad case of diahrrea (apologies for the image).
You were lucky. My family once left a sandal around and a ferret chewed on it, blocked her intestines up, and out of sentimentality we wound up paying the veterinarian like $1300 for the surgery.
The Darwin Awards are (when not apocryphal) extreme outliers, not case studies of common events.
I don’t doubt the warning is there for a reason, as desiccant packaging is presumably not acausal in nature. My point was that, actually, you can ingest silica gel, especially in small quantities, without suffering any ill effects, but the warning is so consistent and prevalent that it would lead you to believe otherwise, and if I ever did have good reason to eat silica gel, the warning is a needless obstacle.
Not that I foresee ever wanting to eat silica gel, but it does raise the question of how many similar events have assumed catastrophic outcomes that aren’t warranted.
People can also have pica. I think someone who felt inclined to eat things labeled “DO NOT EAT” would be more likely to seek medical attention than someone who felt inclined to eat unlabeled things.
You would? What would your base rate for such people be?
Whatever it is, I think it’s probably swamped by all the kids of various ages that eat random things.
I don’t know what the base rate is. I’m pretty sure I’d have gotten help if I’d been eating something labeled inedible, as opposed to ice.
As a teenager, sure. But there are lots of little critters that can both read warnings and which won’t be taken to the shrinks if they eat odd things.
(Who among us can truthfully claim to have never eaten a single inedible or socially disapproved substance in their lifetime? If someone does, they probably ought to go ask their parents what they think about such claims of incredible oral continence.)