Ultra-processed foods are reshaping our diets. Should we be worried?

The Plate and the Planet is a monthly column by Dr. Madhura Rao, a food systems researcher and science communicator, exploring the connection between the food on our plates and the future of our planet.

Walk into any grocery store today, and you're likely to find shelves stacked with shiny packets, instant mixes, and colourful snacks that promise taste, speed, and convenience. From breakfast cereals to frozen parathas, ultra-processed foods (UPFs) have become a staple of modern life, especially in urban India. But behind the vibrant packaging and clever marketing lies a more complex story about convenience and its consequences: what exactly are these foods, how did they become so ubiquitous, and what are the effects of their growing presence in our diets?

Peeling back the many layers of processing

The term ‘ultra-processed food’ was introduced in 2009 by Brazilian nutrition researcher Carlos Monteiro, who also developed the NOVA classification system. Now widely used in global debates on food and health, this system groups foods into four categories based on the extent to which they have been processed. 

At one end are unprocessed or minimally processed foods, such as fresh, dried, frozen or fermented fruits, vegetables, grains, milk, eggs and meat. Next are processed culinary ingredients like oils, ghee, sugar and salt, which are extracted from whole foods and used in cooking. The third category includes processed foods such as cottage industry-produced foods, like papads, pickles, and fried snacks, made by combining foods from the previous two categories. The final category is ultra-processed foods, which are industrial products made mostly with refined ingredients, often with little or no whole food content and with multiple additives. These are designed for convenience and wide appeal, and are usually marketed aggressively. Biscuits, sausages, heat-and-eat meals, vanaspati (hydrogenated vegetable oil), and infant formula are typical examples.

I find that the older colloquial term junk food does a better job of capturing the problem.

The logic behind NOVA is that the more a food is transformed by industrial processes, the more likely it is to contribute to poor health. And there is growing evidence to support this idea. Numerous studies have shown that diets high in UPFs are associated with a greater risk of obesity, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, gastrointestinal issues, and even certain cancers.

However, the term ‘ultra-processed’ and the NOVA categorisation itself, are not without problems. Critics have argued that the problem with UPFs isn’t necessarily how they’re made, but rather their poor nutritional quality: high in sugar, salt, and unhealthy fats, and low in fibre and micronutrients like vitamins and minerals. 

A colleague who teaches food engineering recently offered a useful example. He explained that plain yoghurt falls under NOVA category 3, processed foods. But add a swirl of fruit jam or artificial flavour, and it moves to category 4, ultra-processed. The change in processing is minimal. In an industrial setting, it may be as simple as opening an extra valve to add ingredients. Nutritionally, though, the difference is more significant. Flavoured yoghurt often contains added sugar, colour, and other substances that alter its health profile, even if the underlying process remains pretty much the same.

The current wave of industrially produced and packaged foods marks a distinct departure from traditional processing in both method and purpose.

I find that the older colloquial term junk food does a better job of capturing the problem. It points more directly to the nutritional quality of the food, rather than how many industrial steps went into making it. Although a sugary soft drink and packaged buttermilk fall into the same NOVA category, the former is ‘junk’ while the latter is not, owing to their very different nutritional profiles. That said, it is also important to recognise that while processing itself isn’t inherently harmful, industrial food processing often enables and amplifies nutritional risks. The very features that make UPFs appealing—long shelf life, hyper-palatability, and low cost—are achieved by manipulating ingredients in ways that tend to skew their nutritional profiles. In this sense, the process can’t be separated from the product: the way something is made often dictates what kind of food it ends up being. Therefore, for the purpose of this column, I will use ultra-processed foods to describe industrially manufactured unhealthy food products, even as I remain cautious about the limitations of the term.

Also read: Protecting place and power, not people: The trouble with GI tags

An entry into desi diets

Ultra-processed foods have become an increasingly prominent part of the Indian diet in recent decades. While traditional Indian cuisines have always included some forms of processing, such as fermenting, drying, pickling, and roasting, these techniques were typically used for preservation, flavour enhancement, or out of seasonal necessity. The current wave of industrially produced and packaged foods marks a distinct departure from traditional processing in both method and purpose.

Today, ultra-processed foods are available almost everywhere in India, from village shops to railway stations, typically at low price points and in highly portable formats. According to a 2023 WHO report, their retail value jumped from just USD 0.9 billion in 2006 to over USD 37.9 billion by 2019, and they are projected to make up nearly 39% of all processed food sales in the country by 2032. Between 2011 and 2021, chocolate and confectionery accounted for the largest share of retail sales, followed by ready-to-eat foods. Beverages held the third spot for much of the decade, but by 2021 they were overtaken by salty snacks.

A major shift in Indian diets began with the liberalisation of the economy in the early 1990s. The entry of multinational food corporations, along with the rapid growth of domestic food industries, brought a wide range of new products into the market. Instant noodles, processed cheese, mass-manufactured snacks, and breakfast cereals became increasingly common in urban households. Designed for convenience, affordability, and consistency, these foods aligned well with the needs of a population that was becoming more urbanised, time-constrained, and influenced by globalised ideals. As more people moved to cities and more women—typically tasked with cooking and carework—entered the formal workforce, traditional cooking practices became harder to sustain. Packaged foods that required minimal preparation offered a practical solution, while advertising campaigns framed them as modern and aspirational, tapping into middle-class values around hygiene, efficiency, and a globalised lifestyle.

Over the years, UPFs  started appearing in school lunchboxes (cold Maggi nostalgia, anyone?), office tiffins, evening snacks, and even festival offerings. Many traditional foods started to be re-engineered for mass production, with ingredients adjusted to suit long-distance transport and extended shelf life. These changes often go unnoticed by consumers, as familiar names and packaging maintain the appearance of tradition, even when the contents and production methods had significantly changed. Brands which began as family-run businesses serving freshly prepared foods to local customers, have expanded into large-scale manufacturers, leveraging their brand value as familiar household names to market packaged versions of their products for mass markets in India and abroad. 

Also read: What it takes to feed India’s growing cities

Environmental costs

While most research and debates on UPFs have focused on health risks, their environmental impact is increasingly coming into view. UPFs rely heavily on a narrow set of monoculture crops like maize, soy, wheat, and oil palm, that reduce biodiversity, degrade soil, and pollute water. Animal-based UPFs often depend on intensive livestock systems that contribute to deforestation and carbon emissions. Beyond farming, UPFs require energy-intensive industrial processing, extensive plastic packaging, and long-distance transport, all of which add to their environmental footprint. Yet most assessments overlook these broader ecological costs, focusing only on farm-level production.

Multinational food corporations also often engage in greenwashing. For example, a snack may be advertised as ‘eco-friendly’ because of its packaging, while its large scale and cheap production was enabled by energy-intensive processing or extractive use of natural resources.

The limits of individual responsibility

In India, the conversation about regulating ultra-processed foods is a very recent one. The Food Safety and Standards Authority of India (FSSAI) has yet to introduce regulations that directly address the marketing, composition, or availability of UPFs. For a long time, the absence of formal definitions was cited as a reason for inaction. That changed recently when in 2024, the Indian Council for Medical Research (ICMR) and the National Institute of Nutrition (NIN) released updated dietary guidelines. These guidelines offer a clear definition for UPFs and link their consumption to rising rates of obesity, diabetes, heart disease, and other non-communicable illnesses. Public health experts have since called for immediate regulatory action. 

UPFs rely heavily on a narrow set of monoculture crops like maize, soy, wheat, and oil palm, that reduce biodiversity, degrade soil, and pollute water.

The same guideline also introduced ‘HFSS foods’, a category referring to products high in fat, sugar, or salt. Public health groups are now pressing the FSSAI to strengthen front-of-pack labelling by requiring warnings on HFSS products. Since most packaged foods high in fat, salt, or sugar are also ultra-processed, this approach could serve as a first step toward meaningful UPF regulation. Yet progress has been slow. The FSSAI missed its July 1 deadline for updating food labelling rules, and the Supreme Court has given the regulator three more months to submit recommendations.

In many other countries like Chile, Peru, Brazil, the UK, and South Africa, governments have introduced fiscal and regulatory measures such as taxing UPFs, restricting their marketing, and mandating warning labels. Most of these strategies aim to shift consumer behaviour, operating on the assumption that food choices are largely a matter of willpower or awareness. While such measures have had some impact, UPF consumption remains a significant public health challenge worldwide. India should take note of these limitations and proceed with caution as the country’s food regulators move to rein in the spread of UPFs.

In most Indian homes, the responsibility for daily cooking, grocery shopping, and meal planning still falls largely on women. Even as more women take on paid work outside the home, they continue to manage the bulk of tasks related to feeding the family. The rise of UPFs has not eliminated this burden, but it has made it more manageable. Instant mixes, packaged snacks, and ready-to-eat products have allowed many women to meet their family’s food needs while juggling long hours of work and other domestic obligations. If UPF consumption is discouraged without offering affordable, time-saving, and nutritious alternatives, the burden of daily food preparation could intensify; falling disproportionately on women and deepening existing gender inequities.  Blanket labelling of all ultra-processed foods as harmful risks unfairly confusing consumers and adding to the cognitive burden of preparing meals that are both nutritious and time-saving. 

If UPF consumption is discouraged without offering affordable, time-saving, and nutritious alternatives, the burden of daily food preparation could intensify; falling disproportionately on women and deepening existing gender inequities.

If the negative health impacts of UPF consumption are to be addressed meaningfully, corporate accountability must be central to the reform. In many developing countries with weak regulatory frameworks and unchecked privatisation, multinational food companies often sell products of significantly lower nutritional quality than those marketed in higher-income countries. To prevent this disparity, governments must intervene and make it mandatory for manufacturers to meet strict nutritional standards. Setting upper limits on salt, sugar, and saturated fat, requiring full disclosure of ingredients, and restricting the marketing of unhealthy products would help shift the burden of responsibility from individual consumers to the corporations that shape the food environment.

At the same time, the state has a vital role to play in expanding access to healthier alternatives through public infrastructure. Strengthening schemes such as the mid-day meal programme, anganwadi services, and meals served in public institutions can improve access to nutritious, minimally processed food. These initiatives should be designed not only to meet dietary requirements but also to reflect cultural food practices and ensure that healthy eating is both accessible and acceptable across diverse communities.

Should we be worried? 

Yes, but not just about the foods themselves. The real concern lies in the larger systems that make ultra-processed foods so widespread in the first place. Addressing their health and environmental risks means going beyond personal choice to rethink food policy, corporate accountability, and the unequal conditions under which people make food-related decisions. A healthier future will require not only changing what’s on our plates, but also reshaping the structures that decide what ends up there.

Artwork by Alia Sinha

Also read: The promises—and perils—of Indian aquaculture

‍

{{quiz}}