The humble buttered-popcorn jelly bean, a love-it-or-hate-it candy concoction launched in 1989, serves as a potent symbol of the food industry's growing fascination with flavor manipulation. This seemingly bizarre creation wasn't just a quirky novelty; it was a turning point. By tricking our taste buds into believing a sugary candy could evoke savory popcorn notes, food scientists shattered a barrier. The question loomed large: if such a transformation was possible, what other boundaries could be broken? Were we entering an era where food could be entirely decoupled from its natural source, leaving taste a mere construct controlled by labs?
As it turns out, flavor technology has undergone rapid evolution in recent years. Gone are the days of candy that vaguely tastes like buttered popcorn; now, lab-grown meat is nearly identical to the real deal. However, while advancements in bioengineering have revolutionized products like veggie burgers, they've also unleashed a flood of so-called "health foods" that may not be as beneficial in the long term. The new documentary "Food, Inc. 2," currently screening in select theaters and available for streaming rental, contends that when a product's calorie or fat content seems too good to be true, both your brain and body may suffer the consequences of deception.
Released in 2008, "Food, Inc." utilized corporate farming as a springboard to delve into a myriad of unethical practices within the contemporary food industry. Despite criticisms from some industry insiders regarding its perceived bias, the Oscar-nominated documentary struck a chord with audiences, significantly impacting the careers of filmmakers Robert Kenner and Melissa Robledo. Instead of swiftly transitioning to a new project, the duo found themselves continuously participating in food panels, occupying seats of prominence in discussions surrounding food issues.
The firestorm of interest it ignited caught us completely off guard," admits Kenner. Fuelled by the film, a seismic shift rippled through the food landscape. The burgeoning Food Movement gained momentum, propelling concerns about environmental impact, nutrition, and labor practices to the forefront. Farmers markets mushroomed across the country, and grocery shelves saw an influx of healthier options. The term "ultra-processed foods" entered the lexicon, even as these very foods continued to dominate supermarket aisles. Picking up the mantle of its predecessor, Food, Inc. 2 adopts a similarly broad approach, tackling a range of critical issues. However, this time, it dedicates significant attention to the insidious nature of ultra-processed foods, exploring how the additives they contain manipulate our metabolisms."
As per the U.S. Department of Agriculture, standard processed foods undergo modifications such as heating, freezing, or juicing, among other alterations that aren't inherently detrimental to health. Conversely, ultra-processed foods, which have garnered significant negative attention, are so far removed from their original ingredients and laden with unrecognizable additives that consumers may struggle to identify their origins. A simpler way to differentiate, as highlighted in "Food, Inc. 2," is that fresh corn on the cob is unprocessed, canned corn is processed, and corn chips fall into the ultra-processed category.
Individually, indulging in the occasional hot dog, French fry, or Cheeto may not raise too many concerns for health-conscious individuals. However, Americans, on average, derive 58% of their total energy intake from ultra-processed foods, a stark comparison to Italy's 17%. That's a substantial amount of chips and Oreos being consumed! According to the filmmakers, the issue extends beyond obviously unhealthy ultra-processed foods. The real concern lies in those ultra-processed products that utilize additives to deceive the brain into perceiving flavors that aren't actually present, thereby interfering with its natural ability to detect nutrients.
Mark Schatzker, a food journalist involved in "Food, Inc. 2," emphasizes, "Historically, this was never an issue. Two hundred years ago, if something tasted sweet, it contained sugar, serving as a dependable indicator of simple carbohydrate calories. However, today, there's a plethora of additives—both artificial and so-called natural flavors, fat substitutes, and non-nutritive sweeteners—that the brain wasn't evolved to process. It's essentially food that deceives."
Schatzker's primary focus revolves around the sensory aspects of food, a topic he delves into extensively in his books, "The Dorito Effect" and "The End of Craving." During their research for the film, Kenner and Robledo crossed paths with the author and found his expertise invaluable. They enlisted his assistance, both behind the scenes and on screen, to simplify some of the denser scientific concepts featured in "Food, Inc. 2," making them more accessible to a broader audience. Schatzker's work caught their attention through Yale professor Dana Small, whose experiment involving artificial sweeteners, showcased in the film, provides a lucid demonstration of the intricate relationship between the brain and food.
Small has a background in researching how the brain interprets food reward. In 2001, she conducted what she considers to be the inaugural neuroimaging study of human feeding, examining the brain's response to chocolate in regions associated with the pleasure of eating. In the documentary, she mentions that Pepsi expressed interest in her research and approached her years later seeking methods to reduce calories in sugar-sweetened drinks without diminishing their rewarding properties. Small conducted experiments where volunteers consumed various beverages with equal sweetness but differing caloric content, observing how their brains responded to these stimuli.
Small's team initially anticipated that the beverage with the highest calorie content, delivering 150 calories despite tasting like 75, would be the preferred choice. Surprisingly, the favorite turned out to be the beverage with moderate sweetness and calorie content—tasting like 75 calories and delivering the same amount. Subsequent studies revealed that when sweetness aligned with calorie content, the body efficiently metabolized the energy. However, when the sweetness level didn't match the calorie count—either too sweet or not sweet enough—it hindered the body's natural metabolic processes. In cases of mismatch, the calories weren't efficiently converted into fuel but instead had the potential to be stored as fat.
Other researchers have conducted experiments using rodents to demonstrate that fat replacers have a comparable impact, disrupting signals that regulate the animals' food intake and leading to weight gain. However, there's been a shortage of human studies in this area. Schatzker suggests that this could be because the fat-replacer industry maintains a lower profile compared to artificial sweeteners, which are associated with well-known brands like Equal and Splenda. He advocates for more human studies on various additives to provide a comprehensive understanding of the health risks associated with ultra-processed foods.
In their film, directors Kenner and Robledo skillfully integrate the theme of ultra-processed foods into a larger narrative of corporate accountability. They illustrate how factory farms' excessive production drives down the prices of raw materials, which are then transformed into highly processed products, maximizing profits for the companies involved. However, it also paints a scathing picture of corporate apathy towards improving the nutritional value of these products, prioritizing profits over public health.
The film exposes the lengths companies go to in order to protect their bottom line, even when faced with science that contradicts their practices. For example, the documentary details how Pepsi dismissed data suggesting artificial sweeteners might be detrimental to health, questioning its validity and withdrawing funding from the research project altogether. This incident underscores the film's core message: corporations rarely prioritize health improvements proactively, especially if it cuts into profits. The directors argue that a more likely catalyst for change comes in the form of financial pressure, as evidenced by recent shareholder actions pushing Nestlé to prioritize healthier options.
The companies deflect responsibility by pointing to consumer choices," Robledo observes in the film. "They sell what people buy, creating a self-perpetuating cycle that prioritizes profit over health." This raises a crucial question: in the absence of stricter regulations, like the warning labels already implemented on ultra-processed foods in Latin America, how can consumers navigate this manipulative landscape? Schatzker offers a straightforward solution: prioritize real, unprocessed food. "Fruits, vegetables, whole grains – these offerings of nature don't require disclaimers," she argues. "Real food speaks for itself.