Back in 2009, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell, a collection of short stories about getting excessively drunk and ‘indulging every whim’ by law graduate and self-described arsehole Tucker Max spent months on the New York Times bestseller list (it was eventually adapted into an indie film). In 2024, after some time out of the spotlight, an older, slightly more gaunt Max reappeared on a podcast hosted by right-wing pundit Tucker Carlson with… a different worldview.
‘Virtually everything you find in a grocery store is at best unhealthy, at worst literal poison,’ a now-married Max tells an incredulous Carlson, in a chat on homesteading. ‘Canola oil was literally invented as a lubricant for machines… it’s so toxic, and horrible for the body.’
If this shift in priorities seems surprising, it probably shouldn’t. A generation of newly health-conscious influencers are waging info war on all the stuff you most commonly eat, from milk (there are claims that Bovaer, a feed additive designed to reduce methane emissions from dairy cows, is dangerous to humans) to coffee (there are claims that the machines, or grains themselves, can contain toxic mould). Seed oils, we’re told, are ‘bleached’, sugar is poison, artificial sweeteners cause cancer and even vegetables contain harmful ‘anti-nutrients’ that damage your gut (if you’re only going to read this far, let’s be clear: none of these foods have actually been proven harmful in moderation).
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Often, the men packaging up this information into neat little 30-second videos are the same ones preaching the gospel of Stoicism and self-reliance, telling men to lift heavy and toughen up at the same time as they terrify them with stories about the dangers of pastries. Some have their own competing brands, while others have nothing to push but their social media platforms. But, in the absence of any strong evidence for most of their claims, how many of them genuinely believe what they’re saying? And, even if we’re not in danger from our food, is the perception of risk damaging men’s relationship with what we eat?
‘The best way to get attention is to evoke an emotional response – and fear is the most powerful’
Fears about food, of course, are nothing new. In the 19th century, concerns about preservative sodium benzoate were instrumental in the formation of American chemist Harvey W Wiley’s ‘Poison Squad’, and the eventual founding of the US Food and Drug Administration (sodium benzoate is now classed ‘Generally Recognised As Safe’). In the 1960s, Rachel Carson’s groundbreaking book Silent Spring raised public awareness of pesticides, while the 1980s brought fears that genetically modified organisms might cause allergies, autoimmune disorders or cancer.
What seems to have changed is that a confluence of factors make it easier and more profitable than ever to spread your own narrative, at the same time as the complexity of modern supply chains and distrust in institutions are both on the rise. Now, it’s possible to reach millions of people in days, starting out with nothing more than an Instagram account. Monetisation options on many platforms mean that clicks can be currency. And those prepared to make the most outlandish claims are often those who stand out. Telling people to drink more water isn’t anything new – but telling them that every cup of tea they drink might be releasing billions of microplastic particles into their bodies, as ‘animal-based diet’ proponent Paul Saladino recently did, gets attention. Trying to eat fewer sweets and more veggies won’t get you a Netflix show – but living on ‘nutty pudding’, and calling cookies ‘death in a box’ might, if you’re longevity enthusiast Bryan Johnson.
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‘Fundamentally, it’s about eyeballs,’ says Layne Norton, a powerlifter and bodybuilder with a PhD in nutritional sciences who regularly fact-checks scaremongers on social media. ‘For anyone looking to get attention, the best way to do it is to evoke an emotional response from people, and one of the most powerful emotions is fear. Because when it comes to our health, you feel compelled to share, because you have people you care about, and underneath it all is the idea that, “Oh, if I’m doing this wrong, it could kill me or someone I love.”’
Prathan Chorruangsak
Fact or Fiction?
As is often the case with misinformation, these stories are often based on a kernel of truth. Canola oil has frequently been used as a lubricant for machinery and is ‘bleached’ during its transition into a cooking product (though the process actually uses clay, rather than anything that most people would recognise as bleach). Too much sugar can lead to weight gain, which is a risk factor for cancer. Some compounds in certain vegetables might aggravate the gut in already-sensitive people: but the benefits outweigh the risks for almost everyone.
Sometimes, creating fear can be as simple as using complex-sounding language for everyday chemicals and processes: ‘I could say to you, “Oh, be careful of dihydrogen monoxide – it’s a solvent used in nuclear power plants, it could dilute your electrolytes and cause your heart to shut down,”’ says Norton. ‘Oh, and by the way, it’s fucking water.’ In these cases, a quick search can be enough to allay fears – but in other places, the science can be tougher to unpick.
‘A lot of the claims being spread by influencers and online experts tend to cherry-pick data or rely on poorly conducted studies, leading to confusion and unnecessary fear,’ says nutrition therapist Katherine Metzelaar. ‘For example, while mould and mycotoxins can occur in food, regulatory systems ensure levels are well below anything harmful for most people.’ The Sydney Diet Heart Study often cited by fearmongering X accounts is another example. Conducted in the 1960s, it seemed to show a correlation between seed oil consumption and heart disease, but, crucially, its subjects were typically ingesting those oils in the form of trans fats, a form of fat so harmful that many countries now ban it from being added to food products. Plenty of robust studies since have shown no correlation between seed oil consumption and heart disease – but for anyone distrustful of the mainstream media, one small study can be enough, with the fact that it’s old or obscure only serving as evidence of a ‘conspiracy’ to keep the public from the truth.
‘A lot of the claims spread by influencers cherry-pick data or rely on poorly conducted studies’
Despite community notes programmes and fact-checkers (at the time of writing, being phased out at Facebook), it’s easier for a catchy, plausible-sounding scare story to go viral than for another mundane story to earn its clicks. In a 2023 study from the University of Southern California, researchers found that the reward systems of social media platforms are encouraging users to spread misinformation. The most habitual users of Facebook, the study authors found, shared more headlines overall, including a nearly equal mix of true and false ones – encouraged by a system that offers positive reinforcement for sharing through likes and comments. Social media platforms have an incentive to be addictive: the more time users spend reading and reposting, the more ads they can sell.
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For people worried about what they eat, even one or two posts can be the start of a vicious spiral: ‘One particularly important mechanism we see is linked to the concept of “confirmation bias”,’ says Raffaello Antonino, a senior lecturer in counselling psychology at the University of Roehampton. ‘Someone might read that artificial sweeteners are not good for you, and then start following social media accounts that tend to post negative content about them. Each of these pieces of information, whether accurate or not, reinforces the initial fear, and creates an echo chamber that can transform what initially seemed like a reasonable concern into potentially overwhelming anxiety about consuming anything containing sweeteners.’
‘Most of these guys believe they’re doing the right thing. They like the idea of being the underdog’
For the originators of this misinformation, the incentives aren’t always clear-cut. ‘Five or 10 years ago, I would have said, “Oh, most of them know what they’re doing,”’ says Norton. ‘Now, though, I think most of these guys believe they’re doing the right thing. They convince themselves that they are right, and they think, “Oh, I’m really helping people.” The actual psychopaths who are just doing it for profit are, I think, pretty rare. I think a lot of people like this idea of being the underdog, where they’re up against governments or Big Food or whoever. And for the people reading this stuff, it’s nice to offload the responsibility for your diet to this bad guy behind the curtain.’
Fear and Loathing
So how much is this affecting men? It’s difficult to say with certainty. Eating disorders seem to be on the rise among males – data from the Royal College of Psychiatrists notes a 128% rise in eating disorder-related hospital admissions among boys and young men from 2015/16 to 2020/2021. ‘Obsessively scrutinising food choices, eliminating entire food groups and avoiding “dangerous” ingredients can lead to what many dietitians and psychologists describe as food anxiety,’ says dietitian Jennifer Scherer. ‘This condition is marked by an overwhelming fear of eating foods deemed “unhealthy” and constant worry about the long-term consequences of every meal. In some cases, this anxiety can develop into disordered eating behaviours, such as restrictive eating, orthorexia or even food-phobia.’ Incessant exposure to supposedly ‘expert’ opinions could also start to create a sense of inadequacy or guilt, she explains.
Though men can easily suffer from disorders such as anorexia or bulimia, orthorexia – an obsession with eating foods that one considers healthy or ‘clean’ – can be tougher to spot. ‘With so much conflicting advice available, individuals can experience decision fatigue, becoming so overwhelmed by making the “right” choices that they may feel paralysed and unable to make any decisions about food at all,’ says psychotherapist Amber Young.
On podcasts, male influencers and role models will happily chat about following meat-only, raw-only or sugar-free diets, avoiding supermarkets and restaurants, and sourcing all their food from local farms. Out in the real world, their followers are doing their best to keep up – often without the resources their millionaire role models have available. ‘I buy organic [Fairtrade] coffee beans and grind them myself at home and immediately put into a container in the fridge to help keep fresh,’ says one commenter on a subreddit dedicated to toxic mould exposure. ‘I’ve disliked vegetables my entire life… imagine how happy I was when I became carnivore and learned the truth,’ says a commenter on a YouTube video titled ‘We’ve been LIED to about vegetables.’
‘With so much conflicting advice, people may feel paralysed and unable to make decisions about food’
Many people report feeling more energised and less sluggish on carnivore or keto diets, but perhaps this isn’t surprising: cutting down on sugar and eating more protein are beneficial to most people. What’s less well understood is the long-term effects of banishing veggies: carnivores are essentially cutting out carotenoids and polyphenols, substances with antioxidant properties that have been linked to lower risk of type 2 diabetes and cancer. For Joe Rogan, eating freshly shot deer that’s grown up on an all-natural diet of grass, fruits and berries might mitigate this effect. For someone eating factory-farmed meat fattened up on grain in overcrowded conditions, the prognosis is less positive.
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So how can you circumnavigate food-based fearmongering? Well, the simplest approach is to avoid anyone who sounds too overconfident. ‘What I’ll tell people is, listen to the way these “experts” talk,’ says Norton. ‘People who know their stuff don’t typically use words like “best”, “worst”, “always” or “never” – they don’t really use superlatives because they understand that better or worse often is contextually dependent based on the individual. I’d also say, look for those who are willing to say “I don’t know” – anyone out there who seems like they have answers to every single question about nutrition is probably talking nonsense. Oh, and if someone has a diet’s name in their profile, it’s probably best to avoid them – they’ve made it part of their identity and they’ll perform a lot of mental gymnastics to keep on believing what they believe.’
For those who prefer to do their own research, sites like examine.com and consensus.app (Norton is affiliated with the latter) analyse and summarise the research on different interventions, helping users to see where the evidence is strongest on benefits and harms.
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As for convincing your friends and family – that can be tougher. In one famous study from 2010, researchers concluded that the so-called ‘backfire effect’ meant that subjects actually clung to their beliefs about scientific or political issues more strongly when challenged or corrected with fresh evidence (more recently, the same researchers reported that ‘cognitive and memory limitations, motivations to defend or support some group identity or existing belief, and messages from other people… all play critical roles’).
Head-on argument and even evidence can be counter-productive, and actually entrench positions more. ‘When I’m trying to convince other people, my usual approach now is to ask questions,’ Norton explains. ‘“Oh, well, why do you think that? Oh, how does that work?” Even if someone doesn’t change their mind immediately, they’ll go away and think about things a little bit.’
As for the scaremongers: they’ll probably always exist. As long as there’s attention and money to be had by making controversial claims, there will be people willing to chase both. Some internet commentators – like Saladino, who abandoned his carnivore diet after reporting a drop in testosterone, muscle cramps and palpitations – will shift to new things. Follow the evidence rather than the influencers, though, and you’ll be healthy either way.
The Actual Evidence Behind the Most Common Scare Stories Seed oils
The claim: dangerous because they’re high in omega-6 fatty acids, which supposedly contribute to inflammation – or because they’re heated during processing.
The science: inflammation is part of the body’s healing processes, and one large review of studies concluded that ‘canola oil significantly improved different cardiometabolic risk factors compared with other edible oils’. It’s true that if we repeatedly reheat oils at high temperatures, toxic compounds can build up – but that’s a reason to avoid dodgy takeaways, not to avoid frying a salmon fillet at home.
Coffee
The claim: coffee grains are a breeding ground for ‘toxic mould’ (specifically aflatoxin), which is associated with an increased risk of liver cancer.
The science: ‘While it’s true that some coffee beans can contain trace amounts of aflatoxin, the levels found in coffee are far below those considered harmful by regulatory bodies such as the FDA and WHO,’ says Scherer. You still shouldn’t slam it in the afternoon, though.
Sugar
The claim: sugar is linked to a range of health conditions and makes cancer cells grow faster.
The science: ‘While excessive sugar intake can contribute to obesity, type 2 diabetes and other chronic conditions, the obsession with sugar-free everything can create unnecessary anxiety,’ says Scherer. ‘Moderate sugar intake – particularly from whole foods like fruits – is not inherently harmful for most people.’ Like all cells in the body, cancer cells use glucose for energy, but there’s no evidence that extra sugar causes, or directly speeds up, the disease.
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