In all likelihood, the mere reading of those two words conjures up an intense visceral reaction.
For some, the harvest-themed candy is the quintessential representation of all that makes autumn awesome, a glorious, nostalgia-inducing treat that is evidence of a divine power. But those who savor these seasonal delights must do so in secrecy, as every year in lockstep with the first falling leaf, large vocal swaths of Candy Corn Critics unite in a mission to drive the pyramid-shaped kernels into extinction.
Why, though?
Is it because candy corn was originally marketed under the objectively-unsavory name of “Chicken Feed”? Is it because its confectioner’s glaze is thought to be made from bug secretion? Is it because the culture willfully forgets the existence of Circus Peanuts?
Whatever it is, we believe those trying to cancel Halloween’s “most contentious sweet” need only a simple reframing to see candy corn in all its splendor. Forever the optimists, we know.
Here goes.
Every fall morning, candy corn could wake up, refresh its timeline, and scroll through endless comments likening it to “crusty frosting” or “candle wax” or a “lightly sweetened earplug.”
Instead, candy corn chooses to generate momentum by focusing on what’s good in life—like the fact that 35 million pounds, or 9 billion pieces, will be sold this Halloween season or that it is one of Michael Scott’s favorite candies from The Office.
Sometimes optimism means solving the problem by not participating in it.
What does a zipper, vacuum cleaner, and the theory of relativity all have in common?
They were all invented AFTER candy corn, which made its debut in 1888 by Wunderle Candy Company employee, George Renninger.
Recent studies have linked being an optimist to a longer life, with some finding that those with the highest levels of optimism enjoy a life span between 11 and 15 percent longer than their pessimistic counterparts.
With candy corn approaching its 134th birthday and still maintaining its youthful glow, its longevity has gotta be attributed to more than just exercise and kale smoothies.
In its century-plus history, candy corn has never deviated from its original recipe.
Other iconic candies like Butterfingers, which in 2019 incorporated bigger peanuts in its bars, have reworked their recipes to stoke business. But not candy corn. No, candy corn was never intimidated by lofty sales goals or seduced by the bright lights of fame—remaining the same mix of sugar, corn syrup, gelatin, and um, bug secretion since before the moon landing.
In a world where it feels like everyone wants candy corn to be something else, it chose to be true to itself. If authenticity is one of our Superpowers, then by extension, candy corn is a Superhero.
Hopefully, this Very Scientific analysis has allowed some of you to look at Halloween’s most controversial candy with a more optimistic eye. And maybe this year, you’ll think twice before trading it for literally anything else.
Happy Halloween to all, Candy Corn Critics included.
Your stories of optimism have shaped and steered Life is Good from day one. THANK YOU and write on!
Share a Story