SAMA HOOLE: The jaw is a bone. Bone grows to meet the load put on it, and chewing is the load. The window is roughly two to twelve, while the palate is still widening and the arch is still being laid out. By the teens the seam across the roof of the mouth has knitted shut.

A third of British twelve year olds now need a brace. Dig up a thousand skulls from before agriculture and you will struggle to find a crooked tooth in the lot of them.

Same species. Same genes. Straight arches, full sets, wisdom teeth sitting where they belong with room to… pic.twitter.com/hW06nB2Tcz

— Sama Hoole (@SamaHoole) August 15, 2026

A third of British twelve year olds now need a brace. Dig up a thousand skulls from before agriculture and you will struggle to find a crooked tooth in the lot of them. Same species. Same genes. Straight arches, full sets, wisdom teeth sitting where they belong with room to spare. Ours arrive sideways and get cut out in our twenties, because there is nowhere left for them to go. Weston Price chaired the research section of the American Dental Association for fourteen years. In the 1930s he stopped drilling and went looking for people who had never needed him. Fourteen isolated groups. The Swiss Alps, the Outer Hebrides, Kenya, Peru, the Torres Strait. Broad palates. Straight teeth. Faces that had room in them. Then he found their relatives further down the valley, living on white flour, sugar and tinned goods. Narrow faces. Crowded mouths. Jaws that had not come out the same shape. Same villages. Same bloodlines. One thing had changed, and it was the food. The jaw is a bone. Bone grows to meet the load put on it, and chewing is the load. The window is roughly two to twelve, while the palate is still widening and the arch is still being laid out. By the teens the seam across the roof of the mouth has knitted shut. Before that, an orthodontist widens a palate with a screw. After it, a surgeon does it with a saw. So the shape of a face for the next eighty years is settled in primary school, by whatever somebody puts on the plate. And that is exactly the age at which a parent is told to stop worrying about it. Let them be children. They will grow out of it. It is far too early to be thinking about their diet. So it is the beige tray, the yoghurt tube, the cereal bar, the smoothie. Around two thirds of what a British child now eats is ultra-processed. Nothing on that list requires a jaw. The hardest thing in the lunchbox is a crisp. The teeth still arrive on schedule. The room does not. And the palate is the floor of the nose, so when it narrows the airway narrows with it. The face that turns up in a paediatric sleep clinic is that exact face. High arched palate, narrow upper jaw, crowded teeth, mouth hanging open. Those children do not present as tired. They present as fidgety, distracted and behind, and plenty are assessed for ADHD before anybody thinks to look inside their mouth. Then the bill arrives in instalments. Extractions, braces, a retainer for life, a sleep referral if it went far enough. Not one parent in that queue did a single thing wrong. They followed the advice to the letter, from people with a product on the shelf and no interest in a jaw. Price published the lot in 1939 and the profession filed him under crank. Ninety years on we are still straightening the teeth and still refusing to ask why they stopped fitting.

A child gets one go at building a face, and nobody mentions it has a closing date.