I’m going to say something that physically pains me to type: the new Dietary Guidelines for Americans 2025-2030, released by the Trump administration under RFK Jr.’s leadership at HHS, are not completely wrong about everything.
There. I said it. I hate it. And now I need to explain why this makes me so uncomfortable.
This is me trying to work through what I actually think about guidelines that contain both sensible nutrition advice and some deeply problematic recommendations, all wrapped up in a political package I want nothing to do with.
The Part Where I Admit Some Things Make Sense
The new guidelines prioritize protein. A lot of protein. They recommend 1.2-1.6 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight daily, which is 50-100% more than previous guidelines. They say to eat protein at every meal.
And here’s the thing: this is good advice for most people.
I’ve been eating this way since 2008, when I first lost a significant amount of weight. Prioritizing protein at every meal helped me lose weight, maintain muscle mass, and stay satisfied between meals. Protein promotes satiety; you feel full longer, you’re less likely to snack on garbage, you have more stable energy throughout the day.
And now, on Mounjaro, prioritizing protein isn’t just helpful. It’s necessary. GLP-1s suppress appetite, which means you’re eating less overall. If you’re eating less, every bite needs to count nutritionally. Protein becomes essential for maintaining muscle mass while losing fat. It’s not optional.
So when these guidelines say “eat more protein, eat it at every meal,” I can’t argue with that. It’s solid advice backed by good science.
The guidelines also call out highly processed foods for the first time ever, explicitly recommending people avoid “highly processed packaged, prepared, ready-to-eat, or other foods that are salty or sweet” and sugar-sweetened beverages. Given that 55% of U.S. calories come from ultra-processed foods and research links diets high in these foods to increased risk of 32 damaging health outcomes, this is overdue.
They emphasize whole foods. They tell people to limit added sugar. They include gut health and the microbiome for the first time.
These are good things. I eat this way. I recommend eating this way. I can’t pretend otherwise just because I despise the people who wrote these guidelines.
And that’s what makes me so uncomfortable.
The Part Where It All Falls Apart
But here’s where these guidelines go off the rails, and why I can’t just nod along and say “great job everyone.”
First, the internal contradictions. The guidelines recommend eating more red meat, more full-fat dairy, cooking with butter and beef tallow, while simultaneously maintaining that saturated fat should comprise no more than 10% of daily calories. But you can’t have it both ways. Either saturated fat is a concern or it’s not. Either we should limit it or we shouldn’t. Recommending foods high in saturated fat while telling people to stay under a specific saturated fat limit is setting people up to fail.
Second, the red meat push. Yes, protein is important. But the guidelines prioritize animal sources first (eggs, poultry, seafood, red meat) before even mentioning plant-based proteins. This isn’t just about nutrition; it’s about cost. Eating more animal protein is expensive. And let’s not even talk about the environmental cost of that much meat or the issues with factory farming (both of which are issues for separate posts). The guidelines nod toward beans, lentils, and other plant proteins, but they’re treated as afterthoughts rather than viable primary sources.
Third, the seed oil nonsense. The guidelines mention olive oil, butter, and beef tallow for cooking while notably omitting vegetable oils. This plays into the current internet-driven panic about “seed oils” being toxic, which is not supported by the scientific evidence. Vegetable oils are primary sources of essential unsaturated fatty acids. They’re affordable. They’re accessible. And demonizing them without scientific basis does real harm, especially to people who can’t afford olive oil or don’t want to cook everything in animal fat.
Fourth, the full-fat dairy emphasis. Three servings of full-fat dairy daily (the same number as fruits and vegetables combined) is a significant shift from previous guidelines that recommended low-fat or fat-free dairy. I personally eat full-fat dairy; I think the fat-free dairy craze was misguided. But recommending three servings daily, given the saturated fat content, creates yet another internal contradiction.
Fifth and finally, the process. The independent Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee spent two years reviewing nutrition science and submitted their report in December 2024. Then the Trump administration apparently brought in an additional panel that significantly altered the DGAC’s recommendations. There’s no transparency about who wrote the final guidelines or what methodology they used to deviate from the scientific advisory committee’s work.
The Processed Food Problem
Let’s talk about “highly processed foods” for a minute, because this is where language matters and these guidelines are frustratingly vague and buys into the internet-led “chemicals are dangerous” mythology.
What does “highly processed” mean? The guidelines don’t define it. And that’s a problem, because technically, almost everything we eat is processed to some degree.
Cheese is processed. Yogurt is processed. Canned beans are processed. Frozen vegetables are processed. All meat products are processed by virtue of being butchered and cooked. Sourdough bread is processed. Olive oil is processed.
Are we talking about foods with long ingredient lists? Foods with additives? Foods made in factories? Foods that don’t resemble their original form? Foods that are shelf-stable? Foods that are pre-made?
Without a clear definition, “avoid highly processed foods” is almost meaningless advice. It sounds good. It feels intuitive. But in practice, it’s vague enough that everyone can interpret it differently. The more established term is “ultra-processed foods” (UPFs), which is used to define things that have minimal whole food content. But the guidelines don’t use this term.
So we’re left with “highly processed” as a term that means whatever you want it to mean. I cook from scratch most of the time. I eat whole foods when I can. But I also buy canned tomatoes, frozen vegetables, dry pasta, deli turkey and cheese, and bagged salad. Are those “highly processed”? I have no idea. The guidelines don’t tell me.
The Cost Reality
Here’s something the guidelines don’t address: cost.
Eating more protein, especially animal protein, is expensive. A dozen eggs costs more than it did two years ago. Chicken breast is pricey. Red meat is even pricier. Seafood? Forget it for many families.
Meanwhile, beans, lentils, and other plant proteins are cheap, shelf-stable, and nutritionally excellent. But the guidelines treat them as secondary to animal proteins. This isn’t just a nutritional choice; it’s an economic one.
If you’re feeding a family on a tight budget, these guidelines are not realistic. You can’t afford to eat meat at every meal. You can’t afford three servings of dairy every day when milk costs what it costs. You’re going to rely on rice, beans, pasta, bread, and other filling, affordable foods that the guidelines don’t emphasize.
This matters. Nutritional guidelines that only work for people who can afford expensive proteins aren’t useful for most Americans.
What I’m Actually Doing
So where does this leave me?
- I eat a lot of protein. I always have, and I especially do now on a GLP-1 medication. I aim for protein at every meal because it keeps me satisfied and helps maintain muscle mass.
- I eat full-fat dairy. I think the fat-free dairy trend was misguided, and I prefer the taste and satiety of full-fat products.
- I avoid ultra-processed foods (however you want to define them). I cook from scratch most of the time. I read ingredient lists. I choose whole foods when I can.
- I don’t demonize vegetable oils or seed oils. I use olive oil, avocado oil, and sometimes canola oil. They’re fine. The internet panic about them is not based in science.
- I don’t eat a ton of red meat, mostly because it’s expensive and I prefer poultry and seafood. But I’m not avoiding it for health reasons.
- I eat a lot of vegetables and some fruit. I prioritize fiber. I care about gut health.
In other words, I’m generally aligned with parts of these guidelines, even though I arrived at this way of eating independently and for my own reasons, long before this administration released these recommendations.
And that’s what makes this so frustrating. Some of what they’re recommending is sensible, evidence-based nutrition advice that I already follow. But it’s packaged with contradictions, omissions, and what appears to be industry influence, all from an administration led by a science-denying anti-vaccine conspiracy theorist.
I hate that I have to parse out the good from the bad. I hate that I can’t just dismiss all of it. I hate that I have to say “yes, but” about anything this administration does.
The Bottom Line
Yes, some of these guidelines make sense. And no, I’m not comfortable with how they were developed or who’s promoting them. And yes, I’m going to keep eating the way I’ve been eating, because it works for me and it’s based on science I trust, not politics I don’t.
That’s as clear as I can be about something that feels deliberately unclear.
What do you think about the new guidelines? Are you changing anything about how you eat? Are you as uncomfortable as I am about admitting some of it makes sense? Let’s talk about it in the comments.