Carbohydrates aren't the Problem, Our Food Environment Is.
Updated: Jul 21
Understanding the role of carbohydrates in how they relate to our health in our modern food environment
If you discovered that I eat a relatively low-carbohydrate diet, you might reasonably assume that I believe carbohydrates are the reason so many people struggle with their health. It would be an understandable conclusion to draw, particularly given how much of the conversation around nutrition has become divided into opposing camps. One side argues that carbohydrates are essential, the other insists they are the root of modern disease, and somewhere in the middle are millions of people who simply want to know what they should eat to be as healthy as possible.
The longer I have studied nutrition, the less interested I have become in taking sides. I don’t think carbohydrates are the main problem. I think the environment we have built around food is. Looking back, I understand why carbohydrates have become the centre of so many arguments. If you walk through any supermarket, the foods most people instinctively associate with overeating are often rich in carbohydrate: breakfast cereals, pastries, biscuits, sweets, soft drinks and countless snacks lining every aisle. It is easy to conclude that carbohydrate itself must be the culprit. But that conclusion asks the wrong question. A potato is not a doughnut. An apple is not a fizzy drink. Honey gathered seasonally is not the same as a bag of sweets available twenty-four hours a day. They all contain carbohydrate, but they exist in completely different contexts. By grouping them together under one nutrient, we often overlook the environment in which they are eaten and the way they interact with the rest of our diet and lifestyle.
For most of human history, food was not constantly available. Our ancestors lived within the limits of their surroundings. In some parts of the world, fruit would appear for only a few weeks each year. Honey was a rare and valuable source of energy. Tubers had to be found, dug up and prepared. Even when carbohydrate-rich foods were available, obtaining them required time and effort, and abundance was often temporary rather than permanent, this was true before the advent of agriculture, around 10,000-15,000 years ago, where we shifted from hunting animals and gathering what edible plant matter we could find, to growing our food said plant matter and herding animals.
Human beings are remarkably adaptable, which is one of the reasons we have been able to thrive in such different parts of the world. Anthropology (the scientific study of humanity) has shown us that throughout our evolutionary period, humans all over the world ate a diet consisting of predominantly the meat and associated fat of animals. Whether that was land animals like bison and deer or sea life like fish. But at times we also ate significant amounts of fruit, roots or seasonal starches when available to us. We ate what we could in order to survive, and sometimes not just survive but actually thrive. What humans couldn't do however was wander into a brightly lit shop at midnight and leave five minutes later carrying thousands of calories of food designed to be irresistible. Living like this was never part of our design, but it's where we've ended up nevertheless.
Today, we live in an environment where the foods most likely to drive overeating are also the easiest, cheapest and most aggressively marketed. Many are carefully engineered to combine refined starches, sugars, fats, salt and flavourings in ways that make them exceptionally rewarding to eat. Food scientists actually refer to this as "the bliss point," the exact point where food goes from being tasty, to being addictive. If you've ever used the term "more-ish," then you were eating something that was most likely developed to be addictive. Notice the word 'developed' there? Food is supposed to grow or be hunted, not developed.
They require almost no effort to obtain, they are available every day of the year, and they are often consumed while sitting, driving, working or watching a screen rather than around a table with family or friends. Our biology did not evolve expecting that environment.
That doesn’t mean the body is defective. Quite the opposite. The human brain is designed to value calorie-dense foods because, for most of history, they were difficult to find. The problem is that a survival mechanism that served us well in times of scarcity can become a liability when scarcity disappears.
One of the ideas that has fascinated me most over the last few years is how often we confuse personal failure with environmental influence. When somebody gains weight, develops type 2 diabetes or finds themselves constantly reaching for sugary snacks, our instinct is often to talk about discipline. We assume they simply need to eat less, exercise more or have greater self-control. While personal responsibility certainly matters, I think this explanation ignores something far more obvious. Human beings have always been shaped by the environments they live in. If you place almost anyone in an environment where nutritious food is difficult to find, movement is optional, stress is constant and highly rewarding foods are available every hour of every day, it shouldn’t surprise us that health begins to suffer. That isn’t because people have suddenly become weaker than previous generations. It’s because the conditions surrounding them have changed dramatically.
I sometimes wonder how many of us are trying to solve environmental problems with willpower alone. Imagine trying to save money while carrying your bank card in your hand every hour of the day, surrounded by people encouraging you to spend it. Eventually, even the most disciplined person would begin to struggle. We recognise that environments influence behaviour in almost every area of life, yet when it comes to food we often pretend that every decision is made in complete isolation. It isn’t.
Walk into almost any supermarket and you’ll notice that the foods requiring the least preparation are often the ones most heavily promoted. Entire industries invest billions of pounds each year trying to understand what makes us buy more, crave more and come back for more. That isn’t a criticism of business; it’s simply the reality of the world we live in. If companies are rewarded for selling more food, they will naturally try to make that food as desirable as possible.
The difficulty is that your brain has no idea you’re standing in a supermarket in 2026. The systems that regulate hunger and reward developed in a world where energy-dense foods were relatively scarce. Finding ripe fruit, discovering honey or successfully hunting an animal represented a valuable opportunity for survival. Those same biological systems are still with us today, but they are now interacting with shelves full of foods designed to maximise taste, convenience and repeat consumption and I don't think that makes us weak. I think it makes us human.
And perhaps that’s the point we have forgotten.
People often ask me why I still choose to eat a relatively low-carbohydrate diet if I don’t believe carbohydrates themselves are the problem. The answer is simply that, through years of experimenting, I’ve found it to be the way I feel and function best. My energy is more stable, my appetite is easier to regulate and I generally feel healthier living that way for much of the year. That doesn’t mean it is the only healthy way to eat. Human beings have always adapted their diets to the environments they lived in. Some populations naturally consumed more carbohydrate than others, particularly when fruit, honey or starchy plants were abundant. The common thread was never that everyone ate the same foods. It was that they ate within the natural limits of their environment.
I don’t think we should be afraid of eating a bowl of fruit in summer or enjoying root vegetables during certain times of the year. If anything, there is something beautifully human about eating foods when they naturally become available. Seasonality encourages variety, reminds us that food is connected to the world around us and prevents us from living as though every food should be available in unlimited quantities all year round.
The problem begins when seasonality disappears altogether.
Today, almost any food (if you can call it food) you could imagine can be delivered to your front door at the touch of a button. We are surrounded by abundance every hour of every day, and much of that abundance has been carefully engineered to keep us eating long after hunger has disappeared. When food becomes constant entertainment rather than nourishment, it is hardly surprising that so many people struggle to regulate their appetite. That is why I believe we spend too much time arguing about nutrients and not enough time thinking about the environment those nutrients exist within. A carbohydrate is not inherently good or bad. Like fat and protein, it is simply one part of the human diet. The more important question is whether the foods we are eating, and the environment we are eating them in, are helping us move towards better health or quietly pulling us away from it. For me, that is what functional nutrition is really about. It is not about finding the perfect diet or persuading everyone to eat exactly the same way. It is about understanding the human body well enough to create an environment where it can function as it was designed to.
Because once you begin asking that question, many of the nutrition debates become far less confusing. The goal is no longer to decide whether carbohydrates are “good” or “bad.” The goal is to build a way of eating that works with your biology instead of constantly fighting against it.
And perhaps that is the lesson I keep coming back to, whether I’m talking about carbohydrates, exercise, sleep or any other aspect of health. The human body is remarkably resilient when we give it the conditions it needs to thrive. Most of us don’t need another fad diet or another argument about individual nutrients. We need to step back, look at the bigger picture and ask a simpler question:
What kind of environment allows a human being to flourish?
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