The Myth of the Planetary Diet
In recent years, the global debate on food systems has intensified, with radical proposals promising a “planetary diet” that can save the environment, improve health, and ensure social equity. But what really lies behind these visions of sweeping transformation? At the heart of these utopias is often an approach that seeks to change things from the top down, without listening to those who actually live the reality, and ignoring the complexity of food systems: the production and consumption of food are not just matters of nutrients or calories, but are intertwined with ecological, cultural, economic, and symbolic factors. Making decisions without considering the real context, without understanding historical and local dynamics, has almost always led to unforeseen and sometimes disastrous outcomes, from famines to economic collapses.
Decontructing the “planetary health diet”
In a recent study published in Meat and Muscle Biology™, scientists Frédéric Leroy, Peer Ederer, Michael R. F. Lee, and Giuseppe Pulina deconstruct the main myths of the so-called “planetary health diet”, analysing the risks and contradictions of the proposals put forward by the so-called prophets of the great transformation, to show why simple solutions are not enough to solve such complex problems.
New and influential international coalitions, such as the EAT-Lancet Commission, are advocating for a “Great Food Transformation”. Their proposal is based on this “planetary health diet”, which drastically reduces the role of animal-source foods, particularly red meat, replacing them with grains, legumes, and new food technologies: lab-grown meat, precision fermentation, and plant-based products that mimic meat and dairy. However, these solutions are still experimental, difficult to implement on a large scale, and, most importantly, poorly accepted by consumers. Moreover, their proponents are often driven by ideological visions, which ultimately promote simplistic frameworks and high-risk policies.
The idea of a “rational” and “morally superior” diet, in opposition to traditional habits, is not new. As early as the late 19th and early 20th centuries in the United States, movements such as the Seventh-day Adventists condemned meat as an impure food, profoundly influencing modern dietary practices. In the 1970s, the Rockefeller Commission even proposed a centralised agriculture that would replace animal products with plant-based and synthetic foods. Today, in the name of planetary health, these ideas are resurfacing strongly, supported by NGOs, global networks, and vegan-tech industries, with the addition of new concerns such as animal rights. Even in Europe, documents linked to the Green Deal outline future scenarios that commonly involve a marked reduction of animal-based foods, often through taxation and restrictions.
Meat is not just nourishment
Yet, meat is not just nourishment; the food traditions in which it is rooted constitute an essential element of social stability and identity. Even the promotion of alternatives, such as artificial meat, indirectly confirms its symbolic and nutritional value. The very history of major dietary transitions demonstrates how decisive animal-based foods have been: from Homo erectus as a hunter and user of fire, to the Neolithic revolution with the use of milk and animal traction, up to industrialisation, which improved health through richer and more varied diets. Today, we find ourselves in a post-industrial phase characterised by the proliferation of ultra-processed foods, marked by the paradox of “triple malnutrition”: caloric excess, nutrient deficiencies, and widespread obesity.
This new attempt to standardise global nutrition, reducing meat consumption to 16 kilogrammes per person per year, compared to the 60–80 kilogrammes typical of Western diets, would mean imposing a choice that affects traditions, economies, and identities from the top. It is therefore not surprising that such proposals have drawn criticism: they are not only based on controversial scientific assumptions but also part of a project that risks undermining individual freedom, the resilience of food systems, and nutritional security, with potential deficiencies in iron, zinc, vitamin B12, and high-quality protein.
What Science really says
This is why alternative voices from industry experts, grounded in scientific data and established research, are emerging. The Dublin Declaration of Scientists reaffirmed in 2022 the irreplaceable role of livestock in maintaining global food security, ecosystem services, and cultural heritage. Over a thousand scientists have chosen to highlight that livestock, when managed responsibly, performs roles far beyond mere calorie production. According to the declaration, farmed animals provide nutrients that are difficult to replace, enhance marginal lands, contribute to soil fertility and the recycling of agricultural waste, and are integral to cultural practices and rural livelihoods. For this reason, the Dublin Declaration warns against simplistic or ideological solutions that imagine eliminating livestock on a massive scale without first demonstrating, across multiple dimensions, how to replace these services and functions.
In the same vein, the Denver Call for Action, launched by a group of leading scientists, highlights the need for local policies based on robust evidence, focusing on effective and context-specific nutrition, rather than symbolic punishments against certain foods or universal mandates imposed “for the good of the planet.” Policies that recognise the complexity of food systems, which are capable of simultaneously ensuring nutrition, sustainability, and agricultural prosperity, avoiding one-dimensional portrayals of livestock as “just a problem”.
Following these calls from scientists, the concept of the Nourishment Table was developed, with a balanced approach integrating nutritional, environmental, economic, and cultural aspects without imposing rigid, one-size-fits-all dietary models. It provides an alternative conceptual framework to food pyramids and universal dietary guidelines: at its centre is sufficiency and nutritional quality within a specific cultural and territorial context. In practice, it values nutrient-dense foods, such as those from animal sources and limits ultra-processed products. It allows room for personal choice and local knowledge to create meals that truly nourish, satisfy, and enable people to thrive. This approach requires that any rule or policy be based on solid evidence and account for differences between regions, cultures, and population nutritional states.
Food systems are complex, unpredictable, and constantly evolving
The underlying message from these scientists is clear: food systems are complex, unpredictable, and constantly evolving. Trying to govern them through centralised schemes and radical transformations risks repeating past mistakes. Rather than pursuing top-down utopias, it is wiser to focus on gradual, experimental solutions that respect local diversity: supporting and improving sustainable livestock practices, investing in innovations rooted in local territories and farmers, implementing targeted nutritional improvement programmes instead of blanket bans, reducing waste and improving food quality along the food chain, and strengthening monitoring and transparency measures, all while preserving dietary freedom and protecting public health. At the same time, “factory-made” technologies, such as cultured meat, should be considered with caution and promoted only when proven to be environmentally, nutritionally, and socially safe.
Furthermore, success should not be measured simply by reducing consumption of a particular food, but by achieving real nourishment: fewer deficiencies, greater satiety, better health outcomes, while respecting equity and rural livelihoods. In this sense, true transformation does not lie in imposing standardised diets, but in recognising the centrality of human prosperity, freedom of choice, and the richness of food traditions that have accompanied our evolution for thousands of years.