Joe Wicks. Ultra-Processed Foods. And the Problem with Simplistic Health Narratives

So. They cut me out of the documentary. Which is no surprise, having watched it. The clip they wanted just didn’t fit the ending they clearly pivoted to at the last minute.

But naturally, that meant I watched the whole thing, and I have some thoughts. Mainly that I’m in no way surprised at the direction they went in, and the lack of actual important conversations.

So let's talk about them.

First, however, a bit of housekeeping. This isn’t a takedown of Joe, quite the opposite. It’s a discussion about the message, the method, and what we, as a public, deserve when it comes to nutrition education.

Second, this is a rewrite of a script I used for a video I posted on TikTok. If you want to see that, head on over to @robertmoir_bridges

Good Intentions, Misdirected Mission

On reflection, I actually have a bit of sympathy for Joe. It seems to me that he genuinely approached this project from a position of good faith. I truly believe he wants to do good. But, I feel like that desire has been co-opted by a team of people pushing the campaign in a direction that is more flashy marketing and less systemic overhaul.

The result of that is what can best be described as a docudrama, where I felt like Joe was out of his depth a lot of the time. And often didn’t seem like he wanted to be there. He appeared sincere and emotionally invested, likely drawing from his own experiences with food, family, and well-being. But as the documentary unfolded, it became clear that much of the narrative was being driven externally, particularly by co-presenter Dr. Chris van Tulleken, best known for the book Ultra-Processed People.

Joe’s discomfort was visible. The scenes of doubt and self-reflection framed as “feeling the weight of the mission” hinted at a larger issue: this wasnt truly his mission. It felt like a production team trying to graft a heroes journey, or scientific crusade, onto a fitness influencer’s brand.

Tone and Framing: Entertainment First, Education Second

Two minutes into what was billed as a serious investigation into food and health, Joe is eating crisps in the back of a taxi to sultry music. It set a weird tone, to be honest.

My wife even turned to me and asked, “Is this meant to be a mockumentary?”

What it told me was that this was not going to be a rigorous piece of scientific journalism. And instead was going to be a heavily scripted piece aimed at entertaining instead of informing.

There was just a significant lack of empirical foundation.

Throughout, there were repeated claims that ultra-processed foods are linked to cancer, obesity, and mental health issues, yet no direct citations or peer-reviewed evidence were provided. Viewers were told that “excessive consumption” leads to harm, but never how much, based on what study, or in what context.

What the Evidence Actually Says

The truth is, our current understanding of UPFs is based largely on observational studies, which can show correlation, not causation.

The NOVA classification system, which categorises foods by degree of processing, has been useful for public health discussions but has also been criticised for being too broad and inconsistent.

Research does suggest that high UPF consumption is associated with adverse outcomes such as higher body mass index, cardiovascular disease, and some cancers. But again — “associated” does not mean “caused by.”

These studies typically don’t isolate which ingredients or mechanisms are driving those outcomes. Is it emulsifiers? Lack of fibre? Caloric density? Lifestyle factors? We don’t yet know.

Even commonly cited villains, like aspartame, have been overstated in the media. The World Health Organisation classifies it as “possibly carcinogenic,” but at doses 80 times higher than typical human consumption.

Aspartame also sits in the same carcinogenic category as aloe-vera, the sun and night shifts.

If we think critically about that, we can infer that they're safe for human consumption. But that's not the narrative that the media ever chooses.

So while it’s reasonable to be cautious, it’s misleading to imply that eating a protein bar or drinking a Coke Zero occasionally is directly toxic or equivalent to smoking.

A Missed Opportunity for Public Health Literacy

If the aim was to educate the public, the documentary fell short. There were no references, no reading list, no mention of systemic drivers like:

Food affordability and access

UPFs dominate because they’re cheap, shelf-stable, and convenient.

Policy and supply chains

Manufacturers respond to economic incentives, not health outcomes.

Education and inequality

Those most affected by poor diet are often those with the least autonomy in food choice.

By ignoring these realities, the film inadvertently reinforces a “personal responsibility” narrative. This idea that poor diet is a matter of willpower, rather than environment. This framing is not only outdated, but it’s super counterproductive.

Irony on Display

There’s a particularly striking moment when the film critiques how UPFs are marketed to children: bright colours, cartoon mascots, and emotional hooks. The irony, of course, is that the documentary uses the same tactics.

It’s glossy, emotive, and theatrically packaged. The “Killer Bar” stunt, a fake UPF product designed to highlight marketing manipulation, mirrors the very strategies it condemns.

In short, the documentary warns us about seductive marketing while relying on it. And the message gets lost in the medium.

Where the Conversation Needs to Go

None of this is to say that UPFs are benign or that public health concerns are misplaced. We should be having serious conversations about food quality, diet diversity, and long-term health outcomes. But those conversations must also include:

Structural barriers. Access to affordable, fresh food. Lifestyle context. Exercise, sleep, stress, and community health. Education. Helping people interpret research and make informed decisions, and not just fear headlines.

People don’t eat UPFs out of ignorance or apathy; they do it because it’s what’s accessible, affordable, and often all they have time for. Framing them as villains in their own story is not only inaccurate, but it’s incredibly unhelpful if you're campaigning for change. You might get a lot of followers celebrating you going after 'big food', but you're still leaving those who are suffering because of it in dire straits.

Final Thoughts

Joe Wicks’ heart is in the right place. His message, to help families eat better, is admirable. But the delivery and this campaigning miss the mark. It ignores the fundamental challenges causing food inequality.

The documentary’s moral urgency wasn’t matched by substance, and in attempting to simplify science for the masses, it sacrificed nuance for narrative.

If we truly want to improve public health, we need less drama and more critical literacy.

More context.

More understanding.

More change where change will actually make a difference.