Drinking raw milk probably isn’t very healthy.
Worshippers at the milk shrine—to indulge in yet more hyperbole—stand before only one image of that perfect food. It’s golden, creamy, foamy, fresh from grass-fed, family-farm cows. It doesn’t cause but cures illness. Raw milk, with its legion of followers, has become a poster child of the food rights movement, giving emotional power to the idea that all of us deserve access to untainted, unprocessed, healthy food.
And it’s in this incarnation—the one that draws a cultlike following—that the raw-milk ideal becomes dangerous.
