The strangest thing in the carnivore community has nothing to do with weight, and nobody official will touch it.
People stop burning.
It starts as a throwaway line in a post about something else. Out all day, forgot the cream, nothing happened.
Then it is a man who used to catch it walking to the car, standing in the sun for two hours and coming in brown.
Then it is fair skinned northerners in Spain with no factor 50 and no aloe vera evening afterwards.
Then it is the gingers.
Actual gingers. People who have spent their entire lives being told they have no business outdoors after ten in the morning, reporting that they now tan.
That is the point where you stop filing it under wishful thinking.
They were not looking for it. They went carnivore for their gut or their weight, and the sun thing turned up on its own, uninvited, which is not how placebo tends to work.
The explanations offered so far have been generous.
It is the calorie deficit. Sunlight, famously, respects a deficit.
It is placebo. Thousands of people are imagining that their skin is not blistering.
They are secretly staying indoors. All of them. In summer. While posting photographs of themselves outdoors.
Or your skin is built out of the fat you eat.
Cell membranes are made of fatty acids, and they are made of whichever ones you supplied. Fill them with sunflower and rapeseed oil, the least stable fats on the shelf, the ones that go rancid in a cupboard, then aim ultraviolet light at them. Fill them with butter, tallow and ruminant fat, which sit in a jar on the counter quite happily, and see whether the same thing happens.
We changed the building material in the seventies. Sun exposure has fallen since. Skin cancer has not.
Nobody in dermatology wants that sentence within a mile of them.
I burned every summer as a child. Six years here, no sunscreen, not once, and I am not unusual in this crowd.
Take a year off the seed oils, then go and sit in your own garden in July and find out for yourself. Nobody can stop you running that experiment.