Because real food takes time, energy, money, and consistency—and those resources are not evenly distributed.
With the release of the new Dietary Guidelines for Americans (DGA), a familiar question surfaces: Will this finally make Americans healthier?
It’s a reasonable question, and one that assumes health is mostly about knowing what to eat. But for many Americans, the challenge has never been a lack of information. It’s been the reality of trying to nourish themselves within a fast-paced, expensive, and demanding culture.
On paper, the guidelines continue to emphasize nutrient-dense, whole foods: fruits, vegetables, adequate protein, and dietary patterns associated with long-term health. As someone who has spent over a decade educating others about the benefits of real, nutrient-dense food, this direction is not surprising, nor is it unwelcome.
And yet, an uncomfortable truth remains: very few Americans follow these guidelines.
Studies consistently show that fewer than 10% of Americans adhere fully to the Dietary Guidelines. A 2022 CDC report found that only 8.3% of adults reported attempting to follow the previous MyPlate recommendations. Most Americans fall short on fruits, vegetables, and other foundational foods—not because they lack information, but because information alone does not shape behavior.
So the real question becomes: If adherence is already this low, will changing the guidelines matter?
The Dietary Guidelines are primarily designed for professionals—policymakers, healthcare providers, educators, and institutions—who then translate them into public programs, school lunches, food assistance initiatives, and health messaging. Their stated goal is to guide Americans ages two and older toward patterns that support health and reduce chronic disease risk.
The Gap Between “Real Food” and Real Life
Most Americans are not failing because they don’t care about their health. They are struggling because the way we live makes real food harder to access, afford, and prepare.
Time is scarce. Food is expensive. Workdays are long. Convenience is rewarded. Ultra-processed foods are cheap, abundant, and aggressively marketed. Gradual, sustainable change (often recommended by health professionals) can feel impossible when people are already stretched thin or managing chronic health challenges, food sensitivities, or limited resources.
There is also a growing disconnect between guidelines written for “generally healthy” populations and the lived reality of widespread allergies, metabolic conditions, autoimmune illness, and chronic disease. For many, food choices are not just about preference; they’re about tolerance, energy, and survival.
The Infrastructure Matters More Than the Plate
The modern U.S. food environment did not develop by accident. It is shaped by systems that prioritize efficiency, profit, and convenience, often at the expense of nourishment.
Several structural forces work against the vision of a “real food” culture:
- Corporate influence, which favors ultra-processed foods with long shelf lives and high profit margins
- Economic disparity, making fresh produce and quality protein feel out of reach for many families
- Convenience culture, driven by long work hours and limited time for preparation
- Food system design, including subsidies that support commodity crops over diverse whole foods
- Individualism, which places responsibility solely on personal choice rather than shared systems and community solutions
- Disconnection from food systems, leaving many unaware of where food comes from or how it’s produced
Against this backdrop, asking individuals to simply “make better choices” ignores the reality of the environment they are navigating.
Access and Affordability Are the Real Conversation
The administration has described the new DGA as a “common-sense, science-driven document” meant to spark broader conversations about how culture and food procurement programs must evolve to support access to affordable, healthy food.
Those two words—access and affordability—matter most.
Barriers to real food in the U.S. are deeply tied to social and economic conditions: low or unstable income, high costs of living, food deserts, lack of transportation, under-resourced schools, unsafe neighborhoods, and limited healthcare access. These challenges disproportionately affect communities of color, rural populations, and individuals living with disabilities or chronic illness.
When food choices are constrained by circumstance, convenience becomes a necessity, not a moral failing.
So what does this mean in real life?
It means recognizing that while we can’t fix the entire food system overnight, we can begin with more compassion, toward ourselves and toward one another.
Most people already know what “healthy eating” is meant to look like. What’s missing is not information, but the infrastructure to support it. I’ve seen well-intentioned people struggle not because they lacked discipline or care, but because real food requires time, energy, money, and consistency—and those resources are not evenly distributed.
My commitment remains the same: to educate without shame or extremes, and without pretending that food exists outside of context. That means supporting small, realistic shifts that align with people’s lives, resources, and capacity. It means valuing effort over perfection and curiosity over certainty.
The Dietary Guidelines alone will not make Americans healthy. But conversations (like this) that honor both the value of nutrient-dense food and the realities of modern life are a place to begin.
Because wellness is not just about what’s on our plates.
It’s about the systems, time, support, and care that make nourishment possible.
Image: The New Dietary Guidelines for Americans to MyPlate as a visual guide for the federal government’s nutritional guidance for Americans.
(Image credit: U.S. Department of Agriculture/U.S. Department of Health and Human Services)
