Ultra-Processed People

Since childhood, I’ve had a peculiar habit—one I’d loosely call a kind of “text addiction.” Whenever I saw words, I felt compelled to read them. Especially when eating snacks, I couldn’t resist having something to read in my hands. Not just books or newspapers designed for reading, but even the flashy promotional phrases on snack packaging from the supermarket. I’d carefully read the ingredients list on the back, savoring every detail. I imagine it’s similar to how people today watch mukbang videos while eating alone—except in my case, the content had to be in writing.

Reading the back of the packaging often brought me face-to-face with strange terms that made me pause. From chemicals like sodium nitrite, sodium phosphate, and potassium sorbate—more at home on a lab shelf than in a kitchen—to ingredients like palm oil that, while familiar-sounding, weren’t part of my everyday food experience. Emulsifiers, leavening agents, and antioxidants made me wonder why such things were even added. I frequently encountered gums like guar gum, xanthan gum, and arabic gum and couldn’t help but think: “Wait… is there chewing gum in here?” What were these substances? Why were they in this food? I figured they must be safe to eat… but even as a child, chewing on snacks while reading the packaging, I was filled with curiosity.

That long-standing question was finally answered thanks to the book Ultra-Processed People: Why Do We All Eat Stuff That Isn’t Food… and Why Can’t We Stop? by Chris van Tulleken, a physician and scientist affiliated with University College London Hospitals (UCLH). The book delivers a stark message: “What we eat is no longer food—it’s a chemically engineered substance harming our bodies, brains, and even the planet.” Van Tulleken thoroughly examines the production process, additives, addictiveness, and the social and environmental impacts of ultra-processed foods (UPFs), offering a sharp critique of the modern industrial food system.

Early in the book, he urges readers not to stop eating UPFs just yet. Instead, he suggests continuing your usual consumption while reading, so the disgust (or more precisely, revulsion) that builds up will make you naturally want to quit by the end. It’s a strategy to maximize the book’s impact.

On a personal note, the fact that he works at UCLH struck a chord with me. Three years ago, while living in the UK, I regularly visited UCLH to monitor my PT INR levels while on warfarin. The contrast between the Victorian-era red brick Cruciform Building and the sleek modern UCLH tower next to it was striking—past and present in architectural harmony. People often say the British healthcare system is free but endlessly slow. I too had those concerns before moving. But over the course of a year, I received impeccable care in managing my heart condition and medication. Nothing beats direct experience.

Back to the book. Van Tulleken seems to agree that direct experience is most powerful. He used his own body as an experimental tool, eating a diet made up of 80% ultra-processed food for four weeks. He documented the physical and mental changes in vivid detail—weight gain, increased inflammation markers, and signs of addiction in the brain. This self-experiment adds emotional weight and credibility to the interviews he conducted with industry insiders and academics. He argues that the UPF issue isn’t just a health concern—it’s deeply rooted in socioeconomic structures. He criticizes how these foods are chemically engineered to maximize profit and manipulate consumer behavior.

The book builds on the 2021 BBC documentary What Are We Feeding Our Kids?, which stirred significant public attention. Van Tulleken later expanded that experience and research into this book. Together, the documentary and the book have played a key role in raising awareness of how harmful UPFs are to both personal and public health.

Reading this book reminded me of two influential works from my medical school days over 20 years ago: Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser and the documentary film Super Size Me by Morgan Spurlock. Though using different media, both explored the dark side of the fast food industry. Schlosser investigated as a journalist, while Spurlock turned himself into a human guinea pig. Van Tulleken blends the best of both approaches, offering a multi-dimensional look at the UPF problem.

The message of this book can be summarized in three main points. First, what we commonly refer to as “food” in the case of ultra-processed products is not really food. These substances are not created to nourish the body, but to extend shelf life, cut production costs, and encourage repeated consumption. Additives like vanillin, artificial sweeteners, and flavor enhancers are not neutral components—they are tools designed to deceive our senses, dull our sense of fullness, and ultimately make us eat more. In that sense, ultra-processed food is not something that satisfies hunger, but a system built to keep us eating.

Second, ultra-processed food disrupts the brain and our appetite-regulating mechanisms, leading to consumption that is no longer under our control. Van Tulleken explains that these foods hack the brain’s reward system, triggering addictive responses. He cites studies showing that people who consume ultra-processed diets eat over 500 kilocalories more per day than those who eat minimally processed foods, even when the nutritional profiles are otherwise matched. This difference, he argues, is not due to a lack of willpower or exercise, but because these foods are engineered from the ground up to override our natural biological controls.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, the real issue lies not with individuals but with the industrial and societal systems that surround them. Van Tulleken views the rise of obesity and chronic illness not as failures of personal choice, but as symptoms of a profit-driven system. The ultra-processed food industry uses aggressive marketing, low pricing, and environmental design to make unhealthy choices the default. He argues that expecting individuals to solve this problem alone is unrealistic. What’s needed is regulatory intervention and broader social awareness. The issue of ultra-processed food is not merely about nutrition—it is about how modern industry manipulates human desire at scale.

In short, Ultra-Processed People is a scathing exposé of the dangers of UPFs and the structural issues behind their rise. Through a mix of personal experimentation and research, the author makes a compelling case for how these foods disrupt our body’s natural appetite regulation. He argues that responsibility must shift from individuals to society—and that real change requires both public awareness and political will.

This book is a must-read for anyone interested in healthy eating habits or responsible for family meals. It also offers valuable insights for professionals in nutrition, public health, sociology, or food policy. Personally, after reading it, I’ll never look at a packet of Haribo—one of my daughter’s and my favorite treats—the same way again.

As I neared the end of the book, an idea struck me. Since the author repeatedly warns about the cozy ties between academia and the food industry, wouldn’t it be useful to create an online tool that makes these relationships transparent? Imagine entering the title of a research paper on UPFs and instantly seeing which companies the authors are affiliated with. Better yet, you could input a news article and get a list of corporate connections behind it. Just making such information public could act as a powerful defense against biased research and misinformation. After all, once a scholar accepts corporate funding, shouldn’t they forfeit some of their academic authority?

True to the author’s suggestion at the start, I maintained my usual UPF-heavy diet while reading. And just as he predicted, I began to feel increasingly uneasy about the food I was eating. Midway through the book, I even started asking ChatGPT whether certain items were ultra-processed. That shift in awareness—the lens through which I now view food—is the book’s most powerful effect. I hope you get to experience that shift, too.