Marion Nestle has long served as an invaluable resource on the United States’ food system, which comprises a staggering one trillion dollars annually. Her insights are also relevant in other countries, like the United Kingdom, where a rich food culture has been largely diminished by prevailing food systems. Notably, her major works include:
Having delved into each of these titles, I find them particularly rewarding as I now guide preclinical medical students on nutrition. I steer clear of the reductive “clinical nutritionism” [1] found in conventional medical education, focusing instead on the broader implications that the basic understanding of biochemistry and physiology often overlooks. While this biochemical knowledge is certainly significant to healthcare, it’s essential to consider its limitations. My first mentor was part of the groundbreaking team that identified lipoic acid and its role in multi-enzyme complexes, as well as carbon fixation, processes vital to life itself. The literature remains engaging, illustrating how science can thrive outside the constraints of the Bayh-Dole Act of 1980.
What is often overlooked in textbooks on “intermediary metabolism” and “nutrition” is precisely what Marion Nestle addresses. She skillfully elucidates the reasons our food system is so dysfunctional, inefficient, and ultimately detrimental to health. Her upcoming work, What to Eat Now, set to be released in November 2025, serves as an excellent follow-up to What to Eat. For those wanting up-to-date information, her FoodPolitics.com is an essential source for valuable news. A recent post from December 15, 2025, discussing the research paper titled Egg intake and cognitive function in healthy adults: A systematic review of the literature, exemplifies her approach:
“May” is equivalent to “may not,” making the positive interpretation an example of interpretation bias consistent with industry funding. The analysis indicates that there’s no substantial evidence that eggs impact cognitive function, raising the question of why further studies are necessary. They are unlikely to yield stronger results. This finding is particularly troubling, as it comes from a doctoral candidate whose mentors should have shielded them from industry influences (emphasis added here and below unless otherwise noted).
Absolutely. In the past, I would start by reading the abstract of a scholarly article. Nowadays, however, I check the acknowledgments section to see the funding sources. Any study on the incredible edible egg funded by entities like Australian Eggs Ltd is instantly disregarded. This same caution applies to research published in leading medical journals that may involve authors financially supported by Big Pharma. I emphasize these points to my medical students, but their reception remains uncertain.
What to Eat Now provides an engaging yet often frustrating examination of a typical American supermarket, starting from the periphery to the center aisles. The supermarket’s edges feature essentials such as: water, fresh produce (fruits and vegetables), various meats (beef, pork, chicken), fish, dairy products, and eggs. The center aisles, however, are dominated by marketing. This area is home to lightly processed food items like canned vegetables, frozen foods, and culinary staples such as fats, oils, salt, sugar, and spices. Ultra-processed foods also dominate this space, catering to consumers—including some health-conscious individuals—who are bombarded with marketing tactics.
Water. A memory surfaces from a time when people gravitated away from water fountains in favor of bottled water. I questioned the logic behind this trend. What emerged were products like Propel, which now comes in an immune support version. We find ourselves in an age where savvy marketers profit from selling “safe” water—either plain or carbonated—often flavored with chemicals or sweeteners. The tainted state of some public water sources, due to neglect from our political leaders (as exemplified by the crisis in Flint, Michigan), only plays into this narrative. The market’s ethos is clear: Bottled water is the most lucrative food product ever created.
Meat. The meat industry stands as a primary political and technical representation of the flaws inherent in industrial agriculture:
The meat sector’s concentrated power serves as a glaring reminder of the various issues linked to meat production. There is a pressing need for humane treatment of both animals and laborers. Though raising cattle can effectively transform grass into high-quality protein, industrial production demands vast amounts of corn and soybeans for feed, consuming enormous quantities of non-renewable energy and water. Moreover, beef production contributes more greenhouse gases than any other food item—a clear illustration of how consolidated power leads to externalized consequences and unchecked costs.
Some estimates suggest that it requires over 200 gallons of fuel oil to raise a 1200-pound steer in a feedlot. While costs for feed, fertilizers, equipment, and fuel are accounted for, the hidden costs—such as waste cleanup, impacts of agricultural runoff on drinking water, and the creation of dead zones in places like Lake Erie and the Gulf of Mexico—are not. These expenses are borne by taxpayers instead of being reflected in grocery prices. Furthermore, Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations (CAFOs) typically operate in low-income rural communities, where residents possess little political influence.
Indeed, that is the case. Once the issue fades from public consciousness, it is often forgotten. Likewise, the Meat Racket (a highly recommended read) exemplifies monopolistic behaviors. The underlying issue in this discussion is that industrial agriculture is fundamentally flawed. Cattle can efficiently convert sunlight into quality meat protein while simultaneously rejuvenating the land producing that grass. We could redirect subsidies toward grass-fed beef instead of permitting the inhumane conditions of feedlots, which rely heavily on industrial products like corn and soybeans. Furthermore:
Grass-feeding not only improves meat safety and nutritional quality but also promotes animal health. Why is this the case? Unlike humans, ruminant digestive systems are designed to process grass. Their rumens, functioning like fermentation tanks, host trillions of bacteria that convert chewed grass and hay into essential nutrients for muscle development. Ruminants struggle with grain digestion, which may lead to health issues. Feeding cattle with corn and soybeans accelerates growth but alters their rumen microbiomes, leading to digestive disturbances. This diet may encourage harmful bacterial growth which can pose health risks to humans. Grass-fed cattle, in contrast, harbor fewer pathogens, get sick less frequently, and require fewer antibiotics.
The nutritional composition of the meat produced also reflects this difference. The saying “You are what you eat” holds true for cattle as well. Feedlots are designed to quickly fatten animals, while grazing allows cattle to consume lower-calorie grass, promoting exercise and range movement. Meat from grass-fed cattle tends to be leaner and lower in calories, with a different fat profile—though still rich in saturated fatty acids, it also contains beneficial omega-3s abundant in grass. Additionally, grass-fed beef boasts higher levels of conjugated linoleic acids (CLAs).
CLAs have been associated with protective effects against cardiovascular disease, obesity, and type-2 diabetes. While it is prudent to remain skeptical of these studies—often “nutritionistic” in nature as they scrutinize isolated components rather than whole foods—the evidence increasingly supports the benefits of grass-fed meats (as well as naturally raised poultry and pork) in combating antibiotic resistance. Pathogenic strains of Escherichia coli found in meat and poultry often exhibit resistance to commonly used antibiotics. Grass-fed beef, conversely, relies on solar energy and utilizes local water resources, coming from ponds or wells during rainy seasons.
Ultra-processed Foods. What to Eat Now offers insightful commentary on ultra-processed foods (UPFs), a topic previously explored here through Chris Van Tulleken’s book, Ultra-Processed People. In brief, UPFs can be seen as high-calorie, industrial offerings that are enticing, affordable, and easy to prepare. They cater to the fast-paced lifestyles we lead but come at the cost of nutrition.
These products are also immensely profitable. Supermarkets’ central aisles are filled with them, available in room-temperature and frozen varieties. Breakfast cereals and cookies represent the former, while frozen dinners fall under the latter. Marketing these items to children has been commonplace since my own childhood, and such practices remain problematic today, now executed with even greater proficiency. One major challenge with UPFs is their prevalence in large food deserts across the United States, leaving residents with scant options. Undoubtedly, UPFs play a significant role in the obesity crisis, as marketers often attribute weight gain to “personal choice” while shielding their own children from these products.
What Not to Eat includes a crucial discussion of Kevin D. Hall’s research, formerly of the National Institutes of Health, known for critical studies on UPFs. Take, for instance, the paper From dearth to excess: the rise of obesity in an ultra-processed food system (pdf). Regrettably, Kevin Hall retired abruptly earlier this year when his findings did not align with the approval of the current Secretary of Health and Human Services. His studies reveal that while UPFs are designed to be incredibly habit-forming, they don’t meet the strictest definition of “addictive.” This contradiction didn’t mesh well with the current administration’s “policy-directed science,” leading to Hall’s departure. His earlier, groundbreaking research on UPFs has been discussed here before. Quality research in human nutrition, as distinct from nutritionism, is rare, and one can only hope he finds a new avenue to continue his impactful work.
Techno Foods. The rise of UPFs has given way to “techno foods.” One standout example mentioned in What to Eat Now caught my attention: a concoction called Soylent. Yes, it’s a real product, and Marion Nestle elaborates:
In my view, ultra-processed foods or ingredient concoctions prompt skepticism… I refer to them as “techno foods,” a term coined by Greg Drescher from the Culinary Institute of America, who used it in jest.
These items are infiltrating every section of supermarkets and are quite attractive to venture capitalists hopeful to demonstrate their capacity to sustainably feed the world while generating significant returns on investment. Supermarkets offer Soylent, touted as “simplify food, make it sustainable,” a ready-to-drink meal replacement developed by software engineers from Silicon Valley. I cannot fathom why anyone would name a product, meant for consumption, after Soylent Green, a satirical horror film released in 1973 set in a dystopian future—2022. It depicts an overpopulated world where real food is a luxury reserved for the affluent, while others survive on wafers made from human remains. Its notorious tagline: “Soylent Green is people.”
My experience watching Soylent Green at a midnight screening during my college years remains clear. It likely screened alongside The Groove Tube (not advisable). Both films drew laughter, and Soylent Green was notable as Edward G. Robinson’s final role. Perhaps the naming of Soylent is a form of ironic humor. Regardless, these techno foods offer no real solutions, save perhaps for the realm of space travel. For detailed insights on techno foods, refer to George Monbiot’s Regenesis, criticized as “science-adjacent scientism.” [4] Ultimately, techno foods amount to a trend and consume excessive energy with little promise for the future. [5]
Lastly, What to Eat Now concludes with brief sections on grocery store prepared foods, various types of bread, dietary supplements, and cannabis edibles. Prepared foods, relatively new to supermarkets, have gained popularity, and their safety in most stores is commendable. Partially baked bread (“par-baked”) appears superior to standard industrial bread as it tends to mold—whereas the latter merely stales over time. Caution is advised regarding dietary supplements; the industry often prioritizes profits. Although supplements can be beneficial, the contents of powders, pills, or capsules can be opaque. This concern has been validated in studies highlighting here and more recent findings on melatonin, marketed for sleep. The product in the bottle may not align with what its label claims, escalating the need for consumer vigilance.
As for cannabis edibles, the landscape remains enigmatic. I know individuals, predominantly golfers of a certain age, who praise cannabidiol (CBD) from hemp as an effective remedy for pain and inflammation. However, CBD products vary greatly, making it challenging to ascertain which component provides therapeutic effects. The placebo effect also plays a substantive role, particularly among true believers in any supplement. This tendency resonates strongly among many in my generation! Recently, legislation that concluded the federal government shutdown included a poison pill from Senator Mitch McConnell (R-Kentucky), complicating the situation for hemp producers—leaving many in Kentucky quite displeased.
What to Eat Now stands as The Indispensable Guide to Good Food, How to Find It, and Why It Matters. [6] It vividly narrates how our food dilemmas arose and serves as an unmatched handbook filled with potential solutions, even if they are not always overtly articulated. This makes What to Eat Now an invaluable resource for prompting further actions. The challenge posed by industrial agriculture remains a recurring theme, as seen in the discussion on industrial meat production above.
It’s essential to acknowledge that change is imperative. Technology itself is not the culprit; rather, the prevailing “science-adjacent scientism” characterizing chemical inputs and commodity outputs, coupled with the conventional economic frameworks that overlook external costs, presents significant hurdles. Food should not be treated as a mere commodity. This transformation will face substantial challenges within current political environments, yet it is achievable if the will emerges. The first step requires regionalizing agriculture—the production of food and fibers for people. Perhaps we can advocate for MARA: Make Agriculture Regional Again. [7]
Accomplishing this necessitates revamping the Farm Bill in the United States (indeed, this is a heavy undertaking but not nearly as far-fetched as the enduring existence of Impossible Foods). Instead of allocating land to industrial commodity crops like corn and soybeans, it could support food production intended for human consumption, using the same subsidies. This shift would facilitate a transition toward pasture-raised meat instead of cattle grown in feedlots, which often involves extensive transportation. The absence of external cost accounting has enabled such trends. Butcher professionals could return as skilled trades in a more localized economic landscape.
Instead of a single White Oak Pastures in Georgia, imagine fifty similar establishments dotted across the country, producing beef, pork, and chicken directly for retail customers at reasonable prices, rather than catering exclusively to affluent diners. This could be replicated nationwide with dairy, eggs, fruits, and vegetables. The variety of heirloom apple species once found in North Georgia remains largely undocumented, although not entirely lost. The fact that the apples I purchase come from distant locales like Washington State (2,700 miles away) and New Zealand (8,000 miles away) is ridiculous. While the necessary changes are straightforward in theory, implementing them would undoubtedly disrupt many entrenched interests in Congress and among their well-heeled supporters.
The shortcomings of industrial agriculture outlined in What to Eat Now delve deeper, revealing a more profound challenge posed by Late Capitalism within the Neoliberal Dispensation (apologies to thinkers like Werner Sombart, Joseph Schumpeter, Ernest Mandel, Karl Polanyi, Quinn Slobodian, Corey Robin, Herman Daly, and countless others). The overarching issue is the social reproduction of human life—its culture, society, and polity. Capitalism cannot perpetually “grow” within our limited ecosystem. Marx’s critique of Simple Reproduction in Capital, Volume 1, Chapters 21 and beyond holds true today. The future we’ll face will differ significantly from the past. To ensure that our children and grandchildren eat well, and thereby live well, we must absorb the lessons from What to Eat Now and act as locally as feasible.
Notes
[1] Nutritionism refers to the ideology that emphasizes individual “nutrients” as the keys to a healthy diet, rather than considering the food itself. Although this perspective was useful during the early discovery of essential nutrients in the first half of the 20th century, it has since obscured more than it has illuminated. People consume food, not mere nutrients, underscoring the need for a focus on food culture within nutrition science.
[2] One of the standout qualities of What to Eat Now is that Marion Nestle approaches her topics without preaching. Treats are acknowledged as just that—treats. A healthy diet can incorporate indulgences like a plain Oreo cookie, soft drink, or a Klondike bar in moderation.
[3] This refers to the Professional Managerial Class, which has been explored here and in various other venues.
[4] The excerpt states: “Can this work? As a technical proposition, yes. As a solution to our unsustainable food system, probably not. The energy demands of such a massive initiative are often overlooked, which is standard in scientistic discourse. In an approaching reality characterized by severe ecological limits, these demands may prove impractical.”
[5] A fascinating narrative surrounds the journey of Impossible Foods, founded by Pat Brown, who initially garnered acclaim in cancer research for his work on microarrays. However, due to reproducibility issues, he pivoted toward techno foods.
[6] This extensive book spans 703 pages, including an exceptional bibliography and index! It does summarize some dietary science but doesn’t always get every detail accurate. For instance, Ancel Keys is presented as a cardiologist—however, he was primarily a physiologist central to the Diet-Heart Hypothesis (DHH) that disparaged dietary fat and cholesterol. This eventually led to the preference for processed carbohydrates. Keys later conceded that he may have overstated his findings, which appear to correlate with the acute rise in obesity linked to UPF consumption beginning in the 1960s. While Time magazine sensationalized the dangers of cholesterol, its 2015 acknowledgment that there would no longer be dietary restrictions on cholesterol went unnoticed.
[7] Initially, I thought of MALA: Make Agriculture Local Again, but the term “mal” would undoubtedly cause confusion; hence, MARA feels more appropriate as regionalization offers a tangible subset within a broader context.
[8] For those interested, this recent translation provides enlightening insights.
