Why This Hits So Close to Home for Me and for Millions of Moms
Before I ever stepped into FoodTech, I spent several years working in the WIC (Women, Infants, and Children) program. I wasn’t behind a desk — I was in the clinics, planning and delivering the mandatory education classes every mom had to attend. Week after week, I listened to their goals, their fears, and their exhaustion.
And what struck me most – even back then, long before “UPF” became part of our vocabulary – was this persistent tension:
We were teaching moms how to choose nutrient-dense, minimally processed foods…
yet the WIC basket still allowed purchases that didn’t align with that advice.
Some were sugary, some were overly processed, some lacked the nutrients we emphasized for healthy pregnancies, toddler growth, or chronic-disease prevention. Meanwhile, many of the foods we advocated for weren’t eligible.
The frustration was real for them and, honestly, for me.
And it matters, because the families served by WIC carry some of the highest burdens of early obesity and chronic disease in the U.S. According to CDC surveillance:
- Obesity among children ages 2–4 in WIC averages 14–15% nationwide, with some states nearing 20%.
- These rates exceed national averages for young children and disproportionately affect low-income households.
These moms wanted to make good choices. The system just didn’t always let them.
The Myth of “Just Make Better Choices”
Now let me say something that might make some people uncomfortable:
Yes, there is a place for personal accountability.
Yes, parents should have the agency to choose what they believe is best for their families.
But believing that choice alone drives healthy eating, especially in low-income households, is pure la-la-land thinking.
Why?
Because the food system is not neutral. It is engineered – strategically, psychologically, and financially – to shape behavior.
Moms in particular are targeted with:
- Packaging designed to look healthy when it’s not
- Health claims that confuse more than they clarify
- Ingredient lists that hide the nutritional story
- Marketing that exploits guilt, time pressure, and “mom identity”
Even the most motivated families are swimming upstream.
And when you layer on the realities many WIC moms face — transportation limitations, inconsistent work schedules, food deserts, financial strain, stress, and competing survival priorities — keeping up with the constant swirl of food confusion becomes overwhelming.
Most of them would tell me the same thing after class:
“I just wish the system would make it easier to buy nourishing food.”
Not fancier or expensive food. Just food that supports health instead of undermining it.
Food Assistance Cannot Be About Calories Alone
This is where SNAP and WIC policy often fall short.
Historically, food assistance has been built around one central metric:
Did we provide enough calories?
- But calories don’t build healthy pregnancies.
- Calories don’t prevent diabetes.
- Calories don’t support toddler brain development.
Nutrients, ingredients, and food structure do.
And the communities these programs serve are in desperate need of more than energy; they need food that elevates their lives, not just fills their stomachs.
If we want to change health trajectories, we must redesign assistance programs around:
- Nutrient quality
- Ingredient quality
- Cultural and practical usability
- Food-system transparency
- Real-world access and affordability
Otherwise, we’re simply reinforcing a cycle that disproportionately harms the very families these programs were designed to help.
Why UPF Is Becoming a Policy Tool and Why the Data Must Improve
This brings us back to SNAP’s newly proposed restrictions on UPFs.
Using UPF as a regulatory category isn’t about villainizing families.
It’s about holding the entire system accountable – manufacturers, retailers, and policymakers – to ensure the foods subsidized with public dollars actually support public health.
But here’s the caveat:
UPF is only as useful as the data and definitions behind it. Right now, that data is inconsistent and, in many cases, too coarse to guide smart policy.
If UPF is going to become a tool for shaping the food environment, we need:
- Clearer classification logic
- Ingredient-level metadata
- Quality scoring that differentiates between “processed” and “problematic”
- Transparent algorithms
- Standards that reflect how food impacts human biology — not academic jargon
When the data improves, everyone benefits:
Consumers, clinicians, policymakers, and especially families navigating food insecurity.
My Takeaway as a Mom, a Scientist, and a Former WIC Educator
SNAP’s potential shift is not just a policy moment, it’s a mirror held up to our entire food system.
If we want healthier communities, we cannot pretend that personal choice alone is enough. We cannot expect moms – especially moms in the hardest circumstances – to untangle a system designed to confuse them.
We cannot keep funding calories and hope nutrients magically follow.
But we can build tools, data systems, and policies that make the healthy choice the easy choice — or better yet, the default.
If using UPF as an accountability metric helps spark that shift, I’m all for it.