Recently, the collective lead poisoning incident at a kindergarten in Tianshui has sparked widespread public outrage. Issues ranging from food supervision and industrial materials to medical testing, groundwater pollution, and the local government’s baffling response have all contributed to a surge of anger. This is a good opportunity to discuss why ensuring food safety is such a daunting challenge.

The Bizarre Aspects of the Tianshui Incident

One of the biggest questions online is: Why would a kindergarten use industrial dye instead of cheap, edible food coloring?

This touches on a deeper “philosophy of life” issue—whenever we encounter seemingly incomprehensible outcomes in real life, we often find a series of equally incomprehensible processes behind them.

As the saying goes, when you spot one cockroach in your home, there are probably a hundred more hiding in the shadows.

In this case, once a cook comes up with the idea of using industrial dye to color food, we shouldn’t expect them to understand the dye’s composition or realize that food coloring is actually cheaper.

Many people online analyze problems using logical reasoning, but real life often defies logic. Maybe the cook stumbled upon a video about dyes online or saw a randomly recommended dye product on an e-commerce platform and got the idea from there.

How Should the Tianshui Incident Be Classified?

Was It Intentional Poisoning?

As a father of two, I understand the public’s outrage and calls for severe punishment. However, based on the current information, it’s unlikely that those responsible will face the death penalty.

A key debate is whether this was intentional poisoning.

Common sense suggests it’s hard to prove intent. Why would a cook, kitchen staff, and the kindergarten director conspire to poison children for months? That defies human comprehension.

Could the Death Penalty Apply?

At this stage, the charge of “producing and selling toxic or harmful food” seems indisputable. Other charges like intentional homicide, intentional injury, or endangering public safety are less likely to stick.

While the maximum penalty for producing and selling toxic food is death, similar cases—like the melamine scandal—show that the death penalty is typically reserved for incidents causing fatalities. Without deaths, it’s harder to justify.

That said, sentencing ultimately depends on the specifics. Even without fatalities, the severity of this case could still warrant the death penalty.

Additionally, the crime of producing and selling toxic food doesn’t require intent to harm—only the deliberate addition of toxic substances to food. Based on the facts, this condition is clearly met.

Do Cooks Understand Food Safety?

My belief that the Tianshui incident stemmed from ignorance rather than malice is partly due to my low expectations of chefs’ knowledge levels.

I have several relatives who work as chefs—some in rural banquets, others in factory or school cafeterias. Most have only elementary or middle school education. If you ask them about food coloring, their response is usually, “I never use it.”

For them, “never using it” is the extent of their understanding of food safety.

Reliance on Experience

Their grasp of food safety is purely experiential: spoiled food is bad, smelly food is bad, rotten food is bad. As for ingredients, that’s beyond their comprehension.

Ask them what “food safety” means, and their answer will likely be that “natural” equals best.

For example, they view commercially sold meat, eggs, fish, and poultry as “inferior” due to being “factory-farmed.” But if you point out that free-range chickens might be exposed to soil contaminants like heavy metals, pesticides, or parasites—making them less safe than factory-farmed poultry—the conversation quickly turns hostile.

This issue is glaringly obvious in so-called “food safety certification exams.”

Chef Certification Exams

I’ve helped relatives prepare for these exams multiple times. The tests are usually taken on smartphones, with 50 questions to answer in 20 minutes. A score of 80% or higher is passing.

The exams categorize test-takers into roles like food safety managers, food handlers, and food technicians, each with different questions.

But the questions are surprisingly complex. Realistically, few chefs could pass without help.

After all, how many chefs have a solid grasp of chemistry, medicine, biology, or law?

Here are some sample questions:

1. Single-choice: Which of the following seafood products is prohibited from being soaked with alum during processing?
   A. Jellyfish B. Horseshoe crab meat C. Pufferfish liver D. Mud snail

2. Single-choice: When portioning dishes for group meals, the hot-holding temperature must not fall below:
   A. 50°C B. 60°C C. 70°C D. 80°C

3. Single-choice: When making vitamin C-rich juice, which additive should not be used?
   A. Potassium sorbate B. Sodium benzoate C. Nisin D. Natamycin

4. Single-choice: A restaurant uses expired curry powder in meals, earning 2,000 yuan in profit. The penalty should be:
   A. 50,000–100,000 yuan fine B. 100,000–200,000 yuan fine C. License revocation D. Warning only

5. Single-choice: Which wild mushroom can be processed but must carry a warning label?
   A. Termitomyces B. Boletus C. Matsutake D. Morel

6. Multiple-choice: Which deep-sea fish must have their guts removed before freezing?
   A. Yellowtail B. Mackerel C. Saxidomus D. Sablefish

7. Multiple-choice: Which ingredient pairs cannot be prepped in the same container?
   A. Soybean sprouts and pig blood B. Crab and persimmon C. Raw oysters and lemon juice D. Spinach and tofu

8. True/False: Sodium bisulfite (INS 222), a leavening agent, can be used in raw meat curing.

9. True/False: Vacuum-packed soft-boiled eggs must reach a core temperature below 8°C within 4 hours.

10. True/False: A chef without a health permit handling ready-to-eat food can result in a fine of up to 5,000 yuan for the restaurant.

This also explains why school cafeterias and rural banquets stick to the same limited menus—it’s the safest, most foolproof approach. Complex ingredients, processing, or storage methods would invite chaos.

Can Oversight Keep Up?

The Tianshui incident highlights a broader issue: we’re caught in a turbulent transition between millennia of small-scale farming traditions and rapid industrialization and digitization. The result is a food safety system full of holes.

Consider how much of our daily food comes from scattered small producers—backyard chickens, homegrown vegetables, small-batch oils, or pickles. These products are like capillaries: decentralized, hidden, and impossible to regulate thoroughly.

Many even fly under the radar under banners like “rural revitalization” or “poverty alleviation,” making food safety concerns politically inconvenient to address.

The vast catering industry and endless stream of takeout-only food products make it even harder to know what’s really inside.

Given the current capabilities of market regulators, comprehensive oversight is likely impossible. Most problems are only addressed after the fact, through spot checks or post-incident penalties.

The Tianshui kindergarten is a microcosm of this “small-scale chaos”—small operations, arbitrary procurement, and food preparation relying entirely on the cook’s experience and “conscience.”

In such a system, “food safety” often means nothing more than a few posted rules and health certificates stuffed in a drawer.

For owners and managers, the top priorities are cost-cutting and avoiding obvious issues like spoiled food. Whether ingredients contain lead or additives exceed legal limits simply isn’t within their knowledge base.

Where Are the “Experts”?

The Tianshui incident is, frankly, a rare case. Overall, I still have some confidence in food safety—at least such incidents aren’t frequent or widespread.

But I’m pessimistic about whether similar problems will recur.

Maybe this incident will temporarily raise awareness about lead-containing dyes, preventing future tragedies. But once the uproar fades, how many will remember the lesson years later?

We can’t expect every person handling food to have professional food safety knowledge. Nor can we rely on current “exams” or “training” to elevate the skills of tens of millions of low-education food workers.

The current farcical “certification” system—forcing chefs with minimal education to master chemistry, microbiology, and food safety laws—is utterly unrealistic.

The real solution is to bring more true “experts” into the industry—people who understand risks, follow protocols, and can identify hazards in ingredients and processes. These gatekeepers shouldn’t just be figureheads or paper-qualified imposters.

But this circles back to the broader issue of credentialism. Perhaps only relentless competition will eventually push capable people into kitchens.

At the very least, working in food safety should be better than emigrating to wash dishes abroad.