(FORTUNE Magazine) – The first thing we noticed about the recent round of regulations by the Food and Drug Administration is that everybody except us seems to be in favor of them. From eaters and drinkers alike, the FDA is winning plaudits galore for its campaign against deceptive advertising of any and all products targeted for the gullet. ''What the FDA did is great,'' said Jodie Silverman, director of communications for the advocacy group Public Voice. (Yes, friends, the Naderites now have directors of communications.) Also praising the agency was Bruce A. Silverglade, director of legal affairs at the Center for Science in the Public Interest, which is presumably against ptomaine poisoning, or else why would the New York Times identify it as a ''health advocacy organization'' ? Over in the less spiritual sector, Robert M. Harris, president of Great Foods of America, professed to be ''delighted'' with the FDA's regulatory moves, and his opinion carries a certain weight in that Great Foods was one of the companies attacked (for the labeling of its canola cooking oil). Procter & Gamble also went to an accommodationist posture, instantly agreeing to drop the ''no cholesterol'' claim for Crisco. Two weeks earlier, P&G had caved in on another front when the diatribe was about word No. 3 in Citrus Hill Fresh Choice orange juice. Why is your servant going against the flow here? Is it because Crisco does in fact contain no cholesterol? Is it because The Random House Dictionary of the English Language offers 21 definitions of ''fresh,'' and the first one that could possibly be applicable to orange juice is ''retaining the original properties unimpaired; not stale or spoiled,'' which, based on knowledge and belief, we would readily apply to virtually all Citrus Hill cartons? Is it because of a feeling that newly installed FDA Commissioner David Kessler is a publicity hound? Or because the Washington Post solemnly says his zeal for law enforcement has earned him the nickname ''Eliot Knessler,'' after the hero of The Untouchables? The answers to all the above questions are of course affirmative, but they do not exhaust the case. A more serious objection would be that in scoring PR points in the name of health, the FDA is leaving thousands of companies suddenly uncertain about the rules of advertising. Some of its comments seem to imply that sponsors must mention the bad news (Crisco contains fat) along with the good (no cholesterol), a regulatory principle that is doubtless appropriate to a junk-bond prospectus but seems heavy-handed in the shortening game. The FDA also has an odd objection to the ''no cholesterol'' label: Most Americans, lacking any serious understanding of biochemistry, will fail to realize that only animal products contain cholesterol. So what? Should the FDA protect us not only against false claims but also against ignorant misunderstandings of truthful claims? Last year, Congress passed a law calling on the FDA to write detailed specifications for the nutritional information that will henceforth be required on most processed foods. Finding it easier to showboat than to write regs, the agency is a long way from completing this task, which itself makes no sense. As we shall explain in the next issue.