There’s been a recent rise in what I’d call ‘diet radicalization’: Extreme diets with obsessive followers who have a disdain for conventional medicine and nutrition science, plus no credible research or proof at all that these diets are even efficacious or, for that matter, safe in the long-term. 

Welcome to the post-truth era, diet version: no accountability required.

Post-truth, or agnotology, is the study of culturally-induced ignorance or doubt. That means that instead of researching something to determine what we think of it, we now tend to make up our minds about our feelings before doing the research (or not). Add the confirmation bias of having large groups of people on the internet all confirming the same research-free hypotheses, and it’s easy to see how false information – and crazy fad diets – seem like truth and spread like wildfire. It’s an explosive trend of non-truths and half-truths, reinforced by the power of social media. It first presented itself in politics and, now in nutrition and health.

The carnivore diet is the perfect example of this phenomenon. The diet – which is championed by an de-licensed (incompetence, reportedly) and apparently now, re-licensed orthopaedic surgeon named Shawn Baker, is a strict regimen of mostly meat, with some eggs, and butter. The diet doesn’t allow any fruits, vegetables, legumes, birthday cake, your mom’s lasagna, or a croissant while you’re in Paris.

Conveniently, bourbon is allowed. 

It sounds forbidding, but carnivores have a fairly large presence on social media, so it’s definitely catching on.

I wrote a piece criticizing this diet for one major media outlet, and the resulting pushback online against me was insane. 

Most of the comments were from carnivores who decided that insulting my credential was their best way of showing me who’s right. Some of them posted anecdotes to try and prove their point. All of them were, without exception, rude, bullish, and aggressive. 

Carnivores all seem to have some conspiracy theory about Big Food and Big Pharma, and a blatant distrust of anything mainstream, from food to medical advice and treatments. 

Reading their comments and tweets is sort of like being in an alternate universe; one where everything we’ve known and believed to be true is now rejected.

These people are unconvinced by any legitimate research presented to disprove their convictions, and viciously take down anyone with opposing diets or views. In their world, there’s no happy medium: it’s carnivore or it’s wrong. This is a good place to note that this is a diet of privilege; only those with a certain income level can afford to eat just meat, so fiscally-challenged individuals need not apply. 

Many carnivores have a © symbol or #carnivore in their Twitter bios to showcase their allegiance to the diet and to ensure proper identification of their beliefs. In this post-truth era, the facts that the carnivore diet is based entirely on anecdote and appears to border on a cult are merely inconvenient truths; spitting in the eye of convention with their new meat-eating friends seems more tempting to followers than any more intelligent alternatives.

Vegans are public enemy number one, with Baker saying this about them:

The f**king, lying, bullsh***ing, guilt-causing, worthless sack of sh** vegans will do anything and say anything to win, and guess what? They are f**king winning and it’s because you and I sit around and think, ‘the truth will prevail’ or some other nonsense fairy tale! It’s a goddamn war for the future whether you like it or not – if that truth offends you then fine, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out! I only want warriors anyway! Step up or go home!

Baker is a charismatic leader who’s promising the world to his followers, sort of like a ripped, Instagram-happy David Koresh. His approval must be intoxicating to people who are searching for inclusion and validation, repulsive behaviour notwithstanding. 

But why are so many people ready to embrace emotion over truth and well-researched ideas? 

There’s a great deal of suspicion around conventional medical and nutrition teachings. I get it that nutrition science has exhausted peoples’ patience in recent years with the flip-flopping of recommendations and sensationalized media stories. People who are exasperated by the system would rather believe in a fake condition they learn about on Gwyneth Paltrow’s website – and diagnose themselves with it – than hear that the condition actually doesn’t exist. In the age of overwhelming information, it’s just easier to buy into things than to be properly critical of them.

People are open to anecdotes and compelling personal stories of how a diet worked for someone, but not ready to accept that an anecdote – like any testimonial – should never take the place of actual research.

Those who follow extreme fad diets don’t appear to care about research, and they don’t care if their licence less doctor-guru poses shirtless on Instagram and tells vegans to eff off. We live in a world where attitude towards convention and respect for authority is at an all time low, and emotions are high. To stand out from the crowd, you need to take shock value to the next level. 

I’m not sure the diet even has that much to do with health as it does with getting attention for being part of something shocking and controversial. It’s like the old saying: any press is good press. 

Like the quintessential hacker who lives in his mom’s basement, I think there’s a culture of loneliness and anonymity in the vast online world that’s extremely isolating. We’ve never been more connected, but we’ve never been more lonely. Being part of a niche group then, gives a feeling of achievement, validation, and exclusivity.

Followers unite over the belief that they are in possession of a greater intelligence than others who don’t share their views. They cover for each other in belittling attacks on anyone with the inability to reconcile the purpose or benefits of their diet. Sadly, the ‘us versus them’ mentality extends even to former friends and family members who aren’t on board.

These individuals are desperate to be heard and understood, and people like Baker exploit that desperation without any concern of being held accountable for what he says or does. Even when Baker’s blood work was recently exposed as being less than perfect (low testosterone, high blood sugars, cholesterol was MIA in the reveal, natch), his followers justified it by blaming the actual result guidelines: ‘Blood work-ups are based on a person who is on a standard American diet. When you go zero carb carnivore, most blood results are useless.’ 

Conveniently, carnivore can do no wrong. 

Of course, this diet isn’t what it seems: We see a curated version of it online, especially on social media; it’s a spectacle, but not real life. Does Shawn Baker really eat five pounds of meat per day? Who knows. But there’s a problem in taking belief in this extreme fad too far. 

The cost is far more than just monetary; it’s the rejection of legitimate experts and credible research. It’s the deconstruction of food into fuel, stripping it of its social and pleasure factors. It’s the isolation that results from letting a diet become your identity. And while having a mind of your own is a good quality, it quickly becomes bad when it exists to the detriment of everything you once enjoyed in your life. 

So it goes on, and in the end, there will be no big reveal, no big surprise, no big breakthrough.

Just another extreme fad diet, a straw house in a hurricane, that’s impossible to follow for the long term. This time though, it’s an outrageous concept with a dark, pernicious edge.