A character on TV’s “The Odd Couple” once explained his philosophy: “Find out what you like in life and drink it.” If a ban on serving large sodas in Cambridge restaurants that was proposed by Mayor Henrietta Davis is approved, this might become (though, my guess is, not appreciably) harder to do. Regardless, soda bans of this sort are misguided, paternalistic, and ultimately a little defeatist.

To start, it seems all too clear that they can’t be effective. Had it not been struck down, New York City’s 16-ounce maximum on sugary beverages might have induced buyers to opt for big Mountain Dews instead of really, really big ones. But policymakers had overlooked a relevant economic phenomenon—the refill. I can’t help but think of the Seinfeld episode in which a waitress tells Elaine that, while the restaurant can’t make her characteristic “big salad” (“We don’t have any big bowls”), she can bring her two small ones.

If Prohibition and The Wire taught us anything, it’s that the substance-dependent will go underground for a fix. But don’t expect a showdown between a modern Al Capone and Eliot Ness. The NYC regulation, which a judge ruled was “fraught with arbitrary and capricious consequences,” would have exempted supermarkets and convenience stores. Ironically, that means the 7-Eleven Big Gulp in Sarah Palin’s defiant hand at CPAC would have been kosher. In other words, the proposed Cambridge ban would only force the particularly thirsty to go to supermarkets to buy their soda in bulk.

The soda ban is, of course, couched in the language of health promotion. While it’d be tempting to write off the health effects of soda as no different from those of bacon, Fritos, and Seinfeld reruns (mercifully, last I checked, still legal), evidence suggests that high fructose corn syrup may be particularly harmful, leading to more weight gain than the calorically equivalent amount of table sugar. Given that the monetary cost of the obesity epidemic means that even rail-thin folks pay for it in the form of higher taxes and premiums, a theoretical, robust ban—not the toothless kind discussed by the Cambridge City Council—could be defended on the grounds that it addresses a negative externality.

But even this simple chain of logic may be worth questioning. A recent review published in the Journal of the American Medical Association found that being slightly overweight was linked to a lower risk of death, suggesting that the negative impact of extra weight on health outcomes may be overstated.

Soda’s quantifiable ills aside, there may be more fundamental reasons for its vilification. I suspect that, with religion and traditional morality passé for a certain segment of society, almost arbitrary rules have arisen to assuage our anxiety over whether we’re leading righteous lives. Maybe skipping soda and eating locally sourced, non-GMO soy nuts are the new signs of justification in our city upon a hill.

Admittedly, puritanical discipline may improve health—but is a longer life really better if it’s gained through excessive asceticism?

Anti-soda crusaders seem to think so. Earlier this year, Coca-Cola unveiled its first “obesity aware” advertisement, acknowledging that sugary drinks are a major driver of obesity in America. Mark Bittman at the New York Times wrote: “It’s good that Coke…is beginning to apologize.” Jezebel, for its part, was scandalized: “Coca-Cola is attempting to appear caring and responsible. When all the corporation really cares about is cash.”

It’s true—Coke probably likes you for your money and not your sparkling personality. But Coke isn’t the problem. We don’t blame Chevrolet or Budweiser when there’s a drunken car accident or unplanned pregnancy. We kick ourselves for not putting on sunscreen when we get sunburns; we don’t demand that the sun resign. Asking others (people, companies, balls of hot plasma) to apologize for their existence illustrates a worrisome lack of confidence in personal responsibility and lack of respect for individual choice.

It may well be “bad” to drink soda. But a critical part of freedom is the freedom to make bad choices. A useful feature of reason is that it allows us not to. Given that Cambridge’s proposed soda ban will not be effective, it won’t constitute a major infringement on personal liberty. But it nonetheless does citizens a disservice, suggesting that they are incapable of exercising dominion over their lives.

Though Professor Nicholas A. Christakis might disagree, fat is not like the flu. It’s not contagious. The headaches caused by paternalism—now that’s another story.

Lisa J. Mogilanski ’15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an economics concentrator in Cabot House.