How Food Misinformation Spreads: Vague Claims, Social Media Algorithms, and the Battle for Trust
Consumers across Europe are confronted daily with an overwhelming stream of food and health claims, from supermarket packaging bearing ambiguous labels like “natural” to viral videos insisting that everyday ingredients are secretly toxic or that a single “miracle food” can transform health. These messages have the power to shape what people believe is healthy, safe, and trustworthy, often before any fact-checking has occurred. To understand this increasingly crowded and confusing landscape, the EU-funded INFOODMATION project has carried out extensive research, analysing 322 potentially misleading examples of food communication collected across 13 European countries alongside more than 540,000 social media posts from popular influencers in 16 European countries. The project examines how misinformation is generated and spread, how it influences food choices, and what different stakeholders can do to combat it. Pablo Hernández Escayola, head of academic research at the Spanish fact-checking organisation Maldita.es in Madrid, draws an important distinction between two related concepts: disinformation is false content shared by someone who knows it is untrue and intends to manipulate the audience, while misinformation is inaccurate material passed on by someone who genuinely believes it. However, once a claim has gone viral, proving the intention of every person who shared it is virtually impossible. That is why the researchers prefer not to point fingers at senders but rather to help recipients determine whether a message is true, false, or requires more context to interpret correctly. The project therefore also examines “potentially misleading content,” a much broader category that food producers need to understand, even when a statement does not clearly break the law.
The most common problem in food communication is not the blatant fabrication that many people associate with misinformation. Instead, questionable claims frequently occupy an awkward space between accurate and inaccurate, according to Rocío Benavente, deputy director and sustainability and development strategy coordinator at Fundación Maldita.es in Madrid. She explains that it is more about what a message implies, suggests, and makes consumers think than about what it explicitly states. A claim can be partially true and partially false, yet imply something that is not completely true or evidence-based. INFOODMATION has identified three communication tactics that producers should be particularly wary of. The first involves questionable awards, endorsements, or certifications that appear to carry the backing of a respected, independent authority; these stamps and badges on packaging and brand communications create an impression of external scrutiny that may not withstand closer examination. The second is advertising that resembles impartial editorial content. When a company has paid for an article, video, or broadcast but the commercial relationship is not obvious, consumers are left unable to assess the potential conflict of interest behind what appears to be neutral information. The third tactic is highly emotional language, with some messages alarming consumers about toxins, additives, or supposedly dangerous foods, while others appeal to nostalgia, cultural identity, tradition, or ideas of purity. Both approaches guide shoppers toward a conclusion without supplying enough meaningful evidence for them to evaluate it. These narratives generally fall into two broad camps. One encourages people to consume something because it is “natural,” “local,” a “superfood,” or capable of “detoxing” the body, and such content is often linked to selling a product. The other urges people to avoid something because it is supposedly dangerous, toxic, or packed with harmful additives, which is the type of alarmist message commonly used to capture attention and build an online following. The problem is that some of these ideas begin with a legitimate point. Local food may indeed have a lower environmental impact in certain circumstances, but “local is always better” can quickly become an exaggerated nutritional, environmental, or cultural claim that the evidence does not support. Crucially, legal compliance is not synonymous with responsible communication. The INFOODMATION researchers have not identified widespread, flagrant breaches by the food industry, but they have found companies operating within ambiguous territory. Benavente observes that companies play very well with lines that are not very clear, and she calls on the food industry to reflect on its responsibility. The risk stretches across packaging, websites, retailer materials, media partnerships, sponsored content, and influencer briefs. A claim may survive legal review and yet damage a company’s credibility if shoppers later believe they were encouraged to infer more than the available evidence could support.
Social media has been identified as the main channel through which potentially misleading food content spreads, and short-form video is especially compatible with direct, emotive, and alarmist messages. Platforms work in a way that pushes and rewards emotional content because it catches attention, Benavente notes. Something very alarmist about food is likely to attract attention because people eat every day and consider food essential for themselves and their families. Traditional media applies professional judgement when selecting and checking stories, even if mistakes still occur, but social platforms have fewer effective gatekeepers. Algorithms tend to reward content that generates reactions rather than information that is properly evidenced. Detailed scientific explanations must therefore compete with confident videos promising that one ingredient will cure, poison, cleanse, or transform the viewer. The effects can be more serious among consumers who are already vulnerable. INFOODMATION identifies children and adolescents, people with chronic health conditions, and those of lower socioeconomic status as groups that may be particularly susceptible. Young users spend considerable time on social media, consume content quickly, and may prioritise emotion, appearance, or peer approval over evidence. People living with unresolved health conditions can be more receptive to foods, supplements, or diets promising dramatic results. Lower-income consumers may face additional barriers involving access to healthier foods, education, and food literacy. Hernández Escayola emphasises that people who are desperate to believe something could change the way they live and solve their health problems are very vulnerable to messages promising that a food or diet will solve everything. Influencers also need to appreciate the authority they acquire with these audiences, as young people follow many influencers, trust them, and adopt their biases. It is therefore really important that influencers are aware of the power they have over their audience and are committed to being responsible. The rise of generative AI could amplify the problem further. Hernández Escayola warns that chatbots may reinforce mistaken beliefs because they are designed to be helpful, polite, and responsive to the user. When reliable evidence is limited, a model may construct a confident answer instead of acknowledging that it does not know. Chatbots try to tell users that they are right and have excellent ideas, and if someone starts with a bad idea and the chatbot gives reasons why it is good, the user can be led to bad conclusions. Studies testing the same AI models with fictional users from different socioeconomic backgrounds found that the accuracy of the answers varied substantially between user profiles, raising the possibility that personalisation could deliver poorer information to those already most vulnerable to misleading health claims. Commercial influence adds another risk. Hernández Escayola cites a recent preprint study finding that large language models could prioritise company incentives over user welfare, including recommending a sponsored product costing almost twice as much and obscuring prices in unfavourable comparisons. Although the findings must be treated cautiously until formally peer-reviewed, they raise important questions about what could happen if paid placements are built into chatbots without clear disclosure. It is therefore essential that food companies treat AI-generated copy, nutrition explanations, and influencer materials as drafts requiring human review, with factual assertions traceable to sources and health, nutrition, and sustainability claims passing expert and legal checks. Users should also request the sources behind a chatbot’s statements and verify what it provides, especially anything unexpected, unusually definitive, or commercially convenient.
Evidence-based food communication has a built-in disadvantage online, because science comes with caveats, context, and uncertainty, while misinformation can be compressed into a simple emotional message. Hernández Escayola observes that the format is good for disinformation, misinformation, and alarmism, but not so good for accuracy and scientific communication. Since young people’s habits are unlikely to change, the question becomes how to get information from a scientific paper into the format they are going to consume. This does not mean responsible content must be dull. Maldita.es adapts its fact-checking for TikTok by using the platform’s language, formats, and trends without abandoning journalistic standards, simplifying complex information without oversimplifying the evidence. Producers can take a similar approach by involving technical, scientific, regulatory, and communications teams at the beginning of a campaign rather than waiting until an eye-catching claim is ready for approval before specialists are consulted. Skilled creators know how to hold an audience’s attention, while subject experts can recognise where simplification starts to distort the facts. Hernández Escayola sees scope for scientists and credible influencers to work more closely, combining expertise in food, health, and science with the ability to reach audiences online. Such partnerships could help accurate information adopt the language and pace of social media without sacrificing evidence, context, or transparency. Effective communication should explain what is known, what remains uncertain, and what the evidence means in practical terms. Brands also need to disclose commercial relationships prominently and link claims to accessible evidence rather than relying on vague references to “studies,” “research,” or unnamed experts. Companies would benefit from establishing a response process before damaging claims gain momentum, monitoring emerging narratives, appointing authorised spokespeople, and preparing experts to respond in accessible language. This can reduce the time between a false allegation appearing and an evidence-based correction being published, helping to preserve consumer trust in an environment where misinformation can spread rapidly across platforms.
Dr Betty Chang, research area lead at the European Food Information Council in Brussels, stresses that regulation is already available in many areas but is not always applied effectively. She points to undisclosed sponsorship as one example, noting that a lot of sponsored content is not labelled as sponsored even though influencers are not allowed to do this. Dr Chang believes platforms have a role in flagging misinformation and making commercial relationships clearer. Trust certifications for reliable sources or a type of information labelling could also help consumers judge what they encounter online. She argues that the bottom line is to consider how to make it so that people are not incentivised to spread misinformation, because a great deal of the interest behind it is commercial, whether from industry or from influencers who are making money off this content. The challenge is therefore not merely legal but structural and economic. A food brand that borrows the techniques of misinformation may secure attention in the short term, but it also gives consumers another reason to distrust the industry’s claims. Every use of loaded terms such as “natural,” “detoxifying,” or “toxin-free” can now be clipped, challenged, and shared far beyond its original context. Staying within the law is only the starting point; the claim also needs to be transparent, properly sourced, and robust enough to survive public scrutiny. This demands a shift in mindset from seeing communication as a vehicle for persuasion to seeing it as a form of accountability. Producers must recognise that audiences are increasingly able to verify claims, compare sources, and call out inconsistencies, and that the reputational damage from a misleading claim can outweigh any short-term marketing gain.
The broader conclusion from the INFOODMATION project is that tackling food misinformation requires a collective effort involving producers, platforms, influencers, regulators, educators, and consumers themselves. The food industry must move beyond the bare minimum of legal compliance and embrace clearer sourcing, transparent sponsorship, and stronger checks on claims before they are published. Social media platforms need to enforce existing rules more effectively, label sponsored content clearly, and adjust algorithms that currently reward emotional and alarmist material over evidence-based information. Influencers, who hold significant power over young and vulnerable audiences, have a responsibility to recognise the potential impact of their endorsements and to avoid lending their credibility to products or claims they have not properly verified. Consumers, for their part, need better food literacy and critical thinking skills to navigate the complex information environment, but they should not be expected to do all the work alone. Scientists and credible communicators need to learn how to present accurate information in engaging formats, using the same tools and techniques that have made misinformation so successful. Regulators must ensure that existing rules are enforced and consider whether new measures are needed to address the challenges posed by AI-generated content and undisclosed commercial influence. Ultimately, the future of food information will depend on whether all these actors choose to prioritise trust over attention, evidence over emotion, and long-term credibility over short-term engagement. The stakes are high, because misinformation does not merely confuse; it can affect dietary choices, health outcomes, and the relationship people have with the food system as a whole. By understanding how misleading content is created and spread, and by taking shared responsibility for stopping it, producers and consumers can work together to build a food environment where claims are backed by evidence, sources are transparent, and trust is not a commodity to be exploited but a foundation to be maintained.