Next time you’re out shopping, pause and consider if the food’s cost is truly reflected at the checkout. Beyond what’s on the receipt, food production and consumption create additional, often invisible expenses: environmental damage, public health burdens and social inequalities linked to the way food is grown, processed and distributed. According to recent estimates, these hidden costs range from $12 trillion to $20 trillion annually [1]: more than double the total economic value of the global food system [2]. The financial health burdens of poor diets are more obvious contributors to these figures, but what about the environmental and social costs?
A central theme running through my book, Well Fed: How modern diets are failing us (and what we can do about it), is that our food choices should consider the broader impact of the food system, taking into account issues relating to our health, the environment and practices that affect the suffering of others [3]. However, a number of people who are keen to make better food choices are justifiably concerned that changing the way they eat – even just a little – might be too great a financial burden for them. Mindful of this, we should look more closely to see if making food choices that are both more healthful and sustainable are actually more expensive and where these costs are reflected.
The Financial Cost of a Healthy Diet
Amid the clutches of a cost-of-living crisis, it’s unsurprising that many of us stress about putting food on the table. One central barrier to healthy eating is the perceived high price of healthy food compared to less nutritious convenience food [4]. Yet, the concerns might actually be more about the perception of what healthy eating looks like. This issue is exacerbated by highly accessible nutrition misinformation doled out by social media content makers, with huge followings but no qualifications, using their platforms to promote their dietologies, such as shunning non-organic produce, glugging raw milk daily and the carnivore diet. Sympathisers may claim that, despite these pseudo-influencers getting some of the science wrong, they essentially have our best interests at heart, whereas the more cynical among us assert – possibly more correctly – that their intention is solely to create fearmoungering clickbait content in a quest to garner more views. The argument, however, is moot: the resulting damage is the same. We’re left with hordes of scrollers terrified to eat canned legumes, frozen veggies, seed oils, breakfast cereals and numerous other items linked to improved health, but without a hefty price tag.
A 2024 review compared the cost of 114 common foods consumed in the UK between 2013 and 2023 on a per 100 calories basis. The foods were categorised based on the UK EatWell Guide’s five food groups – i.e. fruits and vegetables, starchy carbohydrates, proteins including legumes, dairy and alternatives, and oil and spreads – and whether they are “less healthy” or “more healthy” as determined by a scoring system. The review found that overall food prices rose by 20 percent, most of which followed global pressures such as the COVID-19 pandemic and the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Referring to how they ranked across the whole period, there was no change. In 2023, fruits and vegetables remained the most expensive (£1.01/100 kcal), followed by proteins (£0.79/100 kcal), while the lowest was starchy carbs (£0.12/100 kcal). Perhaps unsurprisingly, “less healthy” foods were far cheaper than “more healthy” foods across the entire period, ending up at £0.33/100 kcal and £0.81/100 kcal, respectively [5]. It seems that it’s more costly to eat lots of calories from “more healthy” foods such as fruits, veggies and wholegrains than from “less healthy” foods like cakes and biscuits.
Although these findings align with the public’s perception of the cost of healthy eating, there are important caveats, such as differences in portion sizes, satiety effects, energy density, presentation and cultural beliefs. Foods in the “less healthy” category tend to be more energy-dense and come in larger portions, yet are less filling [6]. Consequently, consumers eat more calories and spend more money. A medium chocolate bar has about double the calories of an apple, but it’s easier to only eat one apple as it will likely elicit a stronger satiety response. Besides, many nutritious items are surprisingly more affordable (see below) and are often consumed in much smaller portions compared to similarly cheap but more calorific, less nutritious items. And despite the common belief that organic is better than non-organic produce, the former can be more than three times the price, yet there’s no scientific evidence affirming the merits of organic.
Examples of UK common foods, ranked cheapest to most expensive*:
UK consumers are well aware of the relatively high cost of red meat, yet many of us are chomping down between 82.2 and 86.3 g per day [8], mainly driven by a combination of inaccurate online nutrition information and the fact that people love eating meat. This level of intake well exceeds the UK EatWell Guide’s recommended 70 g per day, a figure born out of a substantial amount of evidence supporting switching out red meat for cheaper plant and fish sources for protein [9].
While the likes of red meat and organic products are expensive, the public needs to be reassured that consuming them is not a prerequisite for a healthy diet. Seasonal, non-organic produce, wholegrains and legumes are all affordable items that can form a key part of a healthy diet. Junk snacks and fast foods can lead to excess calorie intake and lighter wallets despite their apparent cheapness on face value. Moreover, there are other hidden costs, not just to our health and wallets but to the environment, too.
The Environmental Costs of a Healthy Diet
The climate crisis poses a substantial risk to the biodiversity and well-being of our planet long term, and a rapidly growing human population is dramatically accelerating these harmful shifts. It is now estimated that about a third of all greenhouse emissions (GHGs) are a result of the food system, 71 percent of which is secondary to agriculture and land use activities [10]. As a result and as part of their path to Net Zero, the UK Climate Change Committee (CCC) has recommended a 20 and 35 percent reduction in meat consumption by 2030 and 2050, respectively [11]. This tells us that individuals have the power to make healthier food choices for themselves and the planet.
Recent research compared the carbon footprint of six dietary patterns when consumed at 2,000 kcal per day: Standard American (Western), Mediterranean, vegan, paleo, ketogenic and climatarian. The results showed a significantly greater carbon footprint from dietary patterns low in seasonal plant produce and high in red meat, i.e. the Western (8.14 kg CO2e per day), paleo (5.91 kg CO2e) and ketogenic diets (9.72 kg CO2e) [12]. If everyone in the UK reduced their daily carbon emissions by 0.5 kg CO2e, we could cut national emissions by more than 12 million tonnes annually – that’s the equivalent to taking seven million cars off the road**.
In fact, these findings might even be an underrepresentation of the Western diet’s contribution to GHG emissions, given that the average calorie intake in North America and Europe is nearly double this, at 3,782 kcal and 3,456 kcal per day, respectively [14]. More food equals more carbon, especially when red meat is involved.
The well-documented impact of the global food system on our planet has led to the development of the climatarian diet. Not just another fat diet, this way of eating considers food choices based on how they’re sourced, produced and transported to minimise GHG emissions in as practical a way as possible. Primarily, this means limiting red meat and enjoying locally sourced non-red meat animal products and plant-based food. It also involves minimising food packaging, given that this contributes more than five percent of food-related emissions globally [15]. Where we spend more by purchasing local and sustainable produce, there are huge savings to be had from purchasing less meat, eating seasonally and, of course, being mindful of how much food is wasted. But the real cost saving, one could argue, is to our health. Research consistently demonstrates that plant-rich diets such as the Mediterranean and climatarian diets reduce the risk of chronic disease and improve quality of life [16].
The estimated carbon footprint values for US diets, standardised to 2,000 calories a day [17]:
Our Impact
Despite the overwhelming evidence that supports the benefits of diets rich in plants, both to our health and planet, current food environmental policies are a barrier to achieving this. But, on an individual level, we can do something about it; supply is driven by demand, after all. As I outline in Well Fed, our personal actions contribute to a more sustainable food system. We can all make positive changes helping us to live happier, healthier – and maybe longer – lives.
Postscript
This article was co-written by Tom Price. Tom is a Registered Dietitian with additional training in sports nutrition and functional gut disorders. He is passionate about delivering actionable, evidence-based nutrition information to those seeking better health. The theme was Tom’s idea, and he pulled most of the research together.
* These were calculated based on various supermarket prices to give context to Briazu, et al (2024) [7]
** Calculated based on the UK population and emissions produced by cars [13], with the assistance of ChatGPT.
References:
1. Hendriks, S. et al. (2021) The True Cost and True Price of Food. Available at: https://sc-fss2021.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/UNFSS_true_cost_of_food.pdf (Accessed: 18 March 2025).
2. Boyd, D. R. (2021) ‘Human Rights Could Address the Health and Environmental Costs of Food Production’, UBC Sustainability, 23 September. Available at: https://sustain.ubc.ca/stories/human-rights-could-address-health-and-environmental-costs-food-production (Accessed: 18 March 2025).
3. Collier, J. (2025) Well Fed: How Modern Diets Are Failing Us (and What We Can Do About It). London: Thorsons.
4. Briazu, R. A. et al. (2024) ‘Barriers and Facilitators to Healthy Eating in Disadvantaged Adults Living in the UK: A Scoping Review’, BMC Public Health, 24, 1770.
5. Hoenink, J. C. et al. (2024) ‘Changes in UK Price Disparities Between Healthy and Less Healthy Foods over 10 Years: An Updated Analysis with Insights in the Context of Inflationary Increases in the Cost-of-Living from 2021’, Appetite, 197, 107290.
6. ibid (4).
7. ibid (4).
8. (a) Stewart, C. et al. (2021) ‘Trends in UK Meat Consumption: Analysis of Data from Years 1–11 (2008–09 to 2018–19) of the National Diet and Nutrition Survey Rolling Programme’, The Lancet Planetary Health, 5(10), E699-708; (b) Vonderschmidt, A. et al. (2024) ‘Smaller Meat Portions Contribute the Most to Reducing Meat Consumption in the United Kingdom’, Nature Food, 5, 982-7.
9. NHS (2024) Meat in Your Diet. Available at: https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/eat-well/food-types/meat-nutrition/ (Accessed: 18 March 2025).
10. Crippa, M. et al. (2021) ‘Food Systems Are Responsible for a Third of Global Anthropogenic GHG Emissions’, Nature Food, 2, 198-209.
11. Committee on Climate Change (2020) The Sixth Carbon Budget: The UK’s Path to Net Zero. Available at: https://www.theccc.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/The-Sixth-Carbon-Budget-The-UKs-path-to-Net-Zero.pdf (Accessed: 18 March 2025).
12. Dixon, K. A. et al. (2023) ‘Modern Diets and the Health of Our Planet: An Investigation into the Environmental Impacts of Food Choices’, Nutrients, 15(3), 692.
13. Statista (2025) Greenhouse Gas Emissions from Passenger Cars in the United Kingdom (UK) from 1990 to 2023. Available at: https://www.statista.com/statistics/509066/greenhouse-gas-emissionspassenger-cars-in-the-united-kingdom-uk/ (Accessed: 18 March 2025).
14. Roser, M. et al. (2023) Food Supply. Available at: https://ourworldindata.org/food-supply (Accessed: 18 March 2025).
15. ibid (10).
16. (a) Guasch-Ferré, M. and Willett, W. C. (2021) ‘The Mediterranean Diet and Health: A Comprehensive Overview’, Journal of Internal Medicine, 290(3), 549-66; (b) ibid (12).
17. ibid (12).