The false promise of superfoods, nudges and other quick fixes

The idea of a quick fix is irresistible: whether it’s a superfood promising vibrant health or a nudge claiming to transform behaviour effortlessly, these solutions offer something we all want: big results with minimal effort. But, as with most things that sound too good to be true, the reality is more complicated.

Superfoods exploded in popularity with the promise that they could make us healthier with minimal effort. Who wouldn’t want to boost their immune system by adding a handful of goji berries to their diet? The reality, however, is that no single food will transform your health—you’d need a wheelbarrow’s worth of goji berries to come close to what the marketing implies.

Similarly, nudges like default opt-ins for organ donation or placing healthy foods at eye level may seem like simple solutions to complex issues. While they can have an impact, they don’t address the deeper motivations or social norms behind people’s decisions. Just as adding kale to an unbalanced diet doesn’t magically fix poor nutrition, nudges alone can’t resolve deep-seated behavioral challenges.

Both superfoods and nudges do offer real benefits, but they’re often sold as silver bullet solutions. In reality, eating a handful of superfoods won’t transform your health unless your overall diet is balanced - just like nudges rarely work without addressing the bigger picture.

Quick fixes often oversimplify complex problems

Both superfoods and nudges offer appealing, quick solutions but overlook the underlying complexity that needs to be addressed for real, lasting change.

Superfoods like kale, acai berries, and chia seeds are often marketed as stand-alone solutions. However, health isn’t built on a single food—nutrition is a complex system where different nutrients interact. For example, eating too much of one vitamin can interfere with the absorption of another. Just adding a superfood to an unbalanced diet won’t magically solve health issues.

Similarly, behavioural nudges like the default opt-in for organ donation or putting healthier food at eye level in cafeterias can work in some contexts, but these strategies ignore the deeper reasons behind why people make the decisions they do. A default opt-in may increase participation, but it doesn’t address the beliefs or social norms that underlie why someone may be hesitant to become an organ donor in the first place.

The success of interventions depends on understanding complex systems

Just like nutrition involves balancing different nutrients, behavioural science requires a deeper understanding of the interactions between context, motivation, and behaviour.

In nutrition, health isn’t just about adding healthy foods to your diet—it’s about balance. Too much calcium can interfere with iron absorption, for example, which is why nutritionists focus on the whole diet, not just isolated nutrients. The same applies to behaviour: nudges may work in one setting but fall flat in another, depending on cultural norms, motivations, and external pressures.

The same complexity applies to behaviour change. Nudges may work in certain contexts, but human behaviour is influenced by a web of factors—social norms, personal motivations, environmental cues. For example, a nudge designed to encourage people to save more money might work for some, but fail for those who are struggling with debt or financial instability. Without understanding the underlying factors influencing decision-making, these interventions can fall flat.

Designing for others requires professional expertise

It’s one thing to apply behavioural insights in your own life, but creating effective interventions for larger populations or different contexts demands specialized knowledge.

In your own life, you might make small adjustments to your diet—like cutting down on sugar or eating more vegetables—and see positive results, but designing a menu for a school requires a much deeper level of expertise. Nutritionists need to consider dietary restrictions, nutritional needs across age groups, and long-term health impacts. A meal plan that works for one person might be harmful if applied universally, especially when catering to vulnerable populations like children.

Similarly, while you might use nudges to change your personal habits—like placing your running shoes by the door to encourage exercise—designing a public health campaign or corporate wellness program requires a much deeper understanding of human behaviour. Factors like cultural norms, socioeconomic conditions, and individual motivations come into play, and it takes expertise to navigate these complexities effectively.

Superficial solutions can lead to long-term, unintended consequences

Whether it’s a poorly designed diet or a behavioural intervention, ignoring the complexities and long-term effects can result in delayed issues that are harder to connect back to the original solution.

A poorly designed diet might seem fine in the short term, but the long-term consequences can be significant. For example, a high-calcium, low-nutrient diet for children might not show immediate problems, but over time, it could lead to bone density issues. Calcium needs other nutrients to be effective—vitamin D is crucial for absorption, and magnesium is vital for bone formation. Without these supporting nutrients, excess calcium may not be properly utilised by the body, leading to poor bone development and mineral imbalances. Additionally, too much calcium can inhibit the absorption of other essential minerals like iron and zinc, further compounding long-term health issues.

A behavioural intervention might seem to work at first but can backfire later. For example, introducing a nudge to encourage more environmentally friendly behaviours—such as using fewer plastic bags—might initially reduce consumption but if the intervention doesn’t address deeper habits or motivations, people might revert to their old behaviour or find loopholes that make the situation worse. Without considering the long-term effects and complexities, interventions can produce outcomes that are unintended and difficult to reverse.

Staying up-to-date with evolving knowledge is crucial

Both nutrition and behavioural science are fields that evolve as new research emerges. Relying on outdated methods or oversimplified insights can lead to ineffective solutions which means continual learning and expertise are crucial.

Nutrition science constantly evolves—what was once seen as healthy, like avoiding fats altogether, has been revised and glucosamine—once a go-to supplement for joint health— is now considered to have weak evidence to support its effectiveness.

Behavioural science is no different: insights and research results that seemed solid a decade ago might not hold up today as our understanding of human behaviour evolves. In order to distinguish reliable evidence, behavioural scientists also need to keep up with evolving knowledge in their field from new findings and emerging consensus through meta-analyses and reviews, but also being aware of challenges like the replication crisis, retractions, and instances of scientific fraud. Staying current ensures that interventions and strategies are based on sound, up-to-date research rather than outdated or flawed findings.

Going beyond the quick fix

Understanding the basics of nutrition—how much protein, carbs, and vegetables to eat—is as valuable as knowing basic behavioural principles. Concepts like the "default effect" or "loss aversion" can guide people toward better choices, just as the food plate model helps improve eating habits.

Applying these principles to your own life—whether it’s improving your diet or adjusting habits—is one thing, but when designing for others, general knowledge often isn’t enough. A deeper understanding of nutrient interactions, what makes a balanced diet, and the impact of missing key elements is essential. Similarly, while basic nutritional knowledge is helpful, it may not be sufficient to address specific deficiencies or medical concerns. Complex behavioural challenges also require insight into how behavioural drivers interact and how context influences the success of an intervention.

Reading a single nutrition book doesn’t make someone a diet expert, and doing a two day workshop or reading some airport pop science books doesn’t transform someone into a behavioural scientist. While it’s exciting to see more people engaging with these ideas, there’s always a chance that important nuances might be missed. A more in-depth understanding is often needed to appreciate how motivation, context, and incentives work together. Without that, even well-meaning interventions may not fully achieve their intended outcomes.

In both nutrition and behavioural science, basic knowledge is empowering for personal growth, but designing solutions for others requires deeper expertise. Real, lasting change comes from seeing the bigger picture of how all the pieces fit together.