There I was, washing my hands at the sink, my senses alive and my eyes enchanted by the almost fluorescent green of the liquid soap. My skin tingly with the germ killing aptitude of the silky smooth emollients. My mind boggled by the soap’s ability to moisturize while slaughtering icky bacteria and germs with reckless abandon. My nose enthralled by the scents of juicy melons (not sure which melons and how juicy, but, just go with me on this). My very soul energized and provoked by extracts of various fruits, berries, and trees from the farthest jungles all around the world. 
 
Then, I thought about this question, and it resonated with my own doubts/fears/neuroses: “What if soap didn’t work?”
 
Now, this may seem like a rather simplistic question, however, a logical extension of it undermines a major part of the Western consumption based economy. Consider this: “Why do we inherently trust labeling/advertising?”
 
If you are at all like me, you probably consider yourself a discerning customer. However, the only real verifiable means to substantiate the claims of package labeling or the advertising, is the package itself. We verify by reading the labels. How many of us know what Ethylenediaminetetraacetic acid (EDTA) is? Or 2,6-Di-t-butyl-p-cresol (BHT)? And how do we know what the correct proportion of Ammonium lauryl sulfate is for a successful soap? And why are we comforted to see things like aloe extract? Is the extract really natural? How much aloe extract is enough to ensure moist skin, and inhibit germs? And on that matter, mankind has survived for this long before germ killing soaps, how do we know they aren’t (germs) somewhat necessary in the grand scheme of things?
 
There is really no way to verify the claims of the packaging without your own scientific laboratory. So, how do we know whom to trust? How can we, when we have never even met the folks who produce these items? What if all these soaps do are perfume your hands and body, and remove a superficial layer of grime, only leaving behind an invisible layer of filth that is doubly dangerous because we can’t see and think our hands are clean.
 
Is this modern day snake oil? Should we go back to rendering our own fat, from the carcasses of our own free range animals, processing our own lie from the ashes of countless fires, and combining them in a time tested proportion that renders a completely natural product free of confusing packaging and misleading technical/quasi-scientific terms? Or, should we just use the soap.
 
Alarmingly though, soap is the least of our concerns. It is almost maddening when you consider products that we use every day. Fat free foods? Foods are supposed to have some fat. What do they use to replace the fat? And what do they do with the fat that they have mysteriously and mystically removed from my cookies? Energy drinks have super secret “proprietary blends.” How do we know which of the hundreds of ingredients gives us the jittery, fleeting, anxious energy needed to make it through a dreary cubicled existence? And just what is the ideal balance of electrolytes?
 
Should I trust a product that has a new ergonomic design if it was not designed specifically for me? Who’s ergonomics did they consider when drafting?  And when a product says something like: “40% more free,” is there a quick way to tell how much that is? I have never been speedy with percentages. I am faintly familiar with them. With enough time, a calculator, a pencil with a fresh eraser, some scrap paper, and maybe a willing tutor with a pocket protector and taped horn-rimmed glasses, I could figure out to the chip how much more 40% more rippled chips are. But, who has that kind of time in the blitzkrieg experience of shopping in today’s frenzied mega-marts? And you do not want to be embarrassed by being the only person who cannot complete the complicated algorithms of chip buying without a chalkboard at hand.
 
And why is 100 calories optimum for a snack now? What if I want to only eat 87 calories? Or, what if I want to splurge and eat 123.74 calories in my snack? Am I out of line for that? I did not get that memo if I am! And, for that matter, what if they are doing some pretty serious rounding on those packages? What if those packs actually contain 103.65 calories? If I was following a 2,100 calorie diet, and I ate only 21 of those snack packs a day just to be safe and get EXACTLY the right amount of calories, that would mean I’ve been eating 2,176.65 calories! That throws my whole diet off!
 
UGH!!!!
 
It is exasperating! In these trying times of outbreak scares, diet fads, Bernie Madoffs, economic instabilities, and general world unease, can we afford to trust the packaging? Or, should we just use the soap?