Europe’s Taste for Uniformity: How Nutri-Score Threatens Food Diversity
The quiet power of food
Food has always been one of the simplest ways to connect with others. A study by the University of Birmingham and the University of Munich recently confirmed what many have long felt: people who eat a variety of international cuisines are more likely to view immigrants positively and less likely to see them as cultural or economic threats. The simple act of tasting food from different places can help build tolerance. It opens minds.
For Europe, this finding carries particular resonance. The dishes that define national identities are often the result of borrowed ideas and shared ingredients. Yet this extraordinary richness, which has always been a source of pride and cohesion, is increasingly at risk from a system that seeks to simplify what cannot be simplified. Nutri-Score — a label that reduces every food to a letter and a colour — is quietly eroding one of Europe’s most enduring strengths: the diversity of its food.
A label that misunderstands what food is
Nutri-Score was launched in France with the supposed aim of making nutrition easier to understand. Each product is assigned a grade from A to E, coded from green to red, based on its nutritional composition per 100 grams. It was presented as a tool to promote public health by helping consumers make better choices; in reality, it is a system that misunderstands food, culture, and context.
The label’s faulty algorithm attempts to measure numbers, not meaning. Beyond its lack of scientific rigor, it takes no account of where food comes from or how it fits into real diets. A spoon of olive oil, a wedge of cheese, or a slice of ham are not eaten like-for-like with a chocolate bar, yet they are evaluated as if they were. The result is an incoherent scale that penalises many of the very foods that form the foundation of traditional European diets.
In Italy, Spain, and France, regional products that embody centuries of craftsmanship often receive poor grades. Meanwhile, foods that can be altered to satisfy the algorithm’s thresholds climb to the top of the scale. What began as a public-health initiative has become a driver of homogeneity. The complexity of European cuisine is being squeezed into a single formula.
When voluntary becomes compulsory
At first, Nutri-Score was presented as a voluntary label, a tool that producers could adopt at their discretion. That is changing. In France, Carrefour has informed its suppliers that they are expected to display the label on packaging. In the Netherlands, Albert Heijn has joined a coalition of retailers lobbying for a European obligation. In Belgium, supermarkets are reportedly considering removing private-label products that receive the lowest rating.
What was once optional is becoming mandatory through commercial pressure. Small and medium-sized producers, already struggling with costs and competition, are being pushed to conform. Reformulating recipes, redesigning packaging, or conducting new nutritional analyses requires resources they often do not have. Those who refuse risk losing access to supermarket shelves.
Even among multinational corporations, patience is wearing thin. In Switzerland, Nestlé — one of the first large companies to adopt the system — announced it would remove Nutri-Score from its products. It joined Migros and Emmi, two other major Swiss producers, who had already taken the same step. The reason was not political but practical: the label does not work. It confuses consumers, undermines traditional products, and creates division instead of trust. When an entire country, along with its leading food companies, decides to walk away, it is not a marginal disagreement. It is a sign of structural failure.
The illusion of progress
Nutri-Score was supposed to bring clarity. Instead, it has generated new layers of confusion. Consumers assume a green label guarantees a healthy choice, without understanding the limits of the calculation behind it. Producers, meanwhile, are forced to chase numbers rather than preserve quality.
By promoting uniform labelling, Europe risks promoting uniform food. The same calculation that assigns a letter to every meal will, over time, shape what gets produced, sold, and eaten. What does not fit the system will slowly disappear from the market. The continent that once taught the world to celebrate variety could end up teaching itself to think in spreadsheets.
A question of priorities
The growing influence of Nutri-Score also comes at a moment of economic vulnerability. Fitch Ratings recently downgraded France’s credit rating as well as the country currently lacking a government, giving merit to warnings of rising debt and slowing growth. Across Europe, households are grappling with higher prices and stagnating wages. The real challenge is not how food is labelled but whether people can afford it. Yet policymakers and retailers seem intent on adding more complexity instead of focusing on affordability and access.
If Europe truly wants to improve diets, it should start with the basics: ensuring that fresh, quality food remains within reach for every household. That means supporting small producers, strengthening local supply chains, and reducing intermediaries that drive up costs. It means investing in education about food culture rather than outsourcing public health to an algorithm. Labels do not make people healthier; environments and opportunities do.
Romania’s signal moment
Romania now has an opportunity to learn from the missteps of others. The European Commission has formally warned Bucharest that its draft plan to introduce Nutri-Score could breach EU rules on trade and food labelling. The Commission highlighted the lack of transparency in the algorithm, the absence of clear appeal procedures, and the risk of distorting competition within the single market — echoing the same scientific and legal concerns long raised by independent nutrition experts. Those scientists have repeatedly pointed out that Nutri-Score’s 100-gram model ignores portion sizes, disregards nutrient density, and penalises entire food categories without contextual understanding. Romania should put the project to rest once and for all, rather than revise a system that is flawed at its core. In doing so, it would stand with the growing number of European voices calling for policies grounded in science and culture, not in coding shortcuts.
Defending food diversity
The University of Birmingham study showed that food variety fosters tolerance. It is a reminder that the richness of what people eat reflects the richness of how they live together. The act of sharing meals builds more than social ties. It builds understanding.
The Nutri-Score, in contrast, promotes an idea of food stripped of character. It claims neutrality but enforces uniformity. Europe’s table has always been its most democratic institution. It deserves protection, not simplification. The task ahead is not to label food into submission but to keep it alive, varied, local, and shared.
