Eight years back, two concerned pastors took a stand against Coca-Cola, arguably the country’s most cherished soda company. Their lawsuit also targeted the American Beverage Association, accusing them of “deceptive marketing, labeling, and sale of Coca-Cola’s sugar-sweetened beverages.” This complaint, filed in Washington, DC, suggested that Coca-Cola was well aware of the science connecting sugar-laden drinks to chronic diseases. Yet, through masterful PR campaigns, they managed to appeal to consumers and counterbalance negative impressions. This legal battle had many drawing parallels to how a similar lawsuit in 2007 transformed public perception against Purdue Pharma over OxyContin. In my latest book, “Sweet and Deadly,” I delve into how Coke, with the help of strategic allies, has managed to parry these health advocacy strikes. One wonders, can a corporation perpetuate a century-old narrative of innocence while science whispers otherwise?
Reflecting on the tactics adopted by tobacco firms, Coke has reportedly expended vast resources to dilute scientific claims of soda’s detrimental health effects, playing a narrative that cushions the risks associated with sugar. One insightful revelation: Coke engaged in PR maneuvers even before tobacco firms did. In the 1950s, the Tobacco Industry Research Committee’s staff and methods were introduced wholesale from the Sugar Research Foundation, partly bankrolled by Coke. Consequently, these soda giants were pioneers of the so-called tobacco playbook.
For long years, a behemoth valued at $300 billion has beguiled consumers with either misleading or blatantly false narratives. They have fostered alliances that promote selective truths, leveraging scientists and research to back their claims. If you’ve ever felt a warm fuzzy feeling from Coke’s ads featuring polar bears or festive Santas, it’s no accident—it’s by elaborate design.
Intriguingly, Coca-Cola champions the concept that “a calorie is a calorie.” Katie Bayne, a former chief marketing officer, argued in 2012 that Coke does not promote empty calories. Then, its current CEO, James Quincey, echoed, “A calorie is a calorie,” as he demanded a balanced calorie intake. But can we reduce our biological systems to mere numbers? Aren’t our bodies and minds far too intricate?
Science tells a different story. Researchers have long disputed the idea that all calories are identical. A calorie from liquid sugar isn’t metabolized the same way as one from whole grains or nuts, which offer fibers, vitamins, and nutrients absent in sugary drinks.
Coke perpetuates another compelling narrative: “energy balance.” They suggest that a calorie-count shouldn’t focus on the type of food consumed but rather on ensuring burned calories align with intake. This emphasis on calories-out was central to the Global Energy Balance Network, initiated by academics in alliance with Coke.
Uncovering a New York Times exposé in 2015, we learned that the network was orchestrated as a semblance of independent research. Coca-Cola funded and navigated the organization to shift responsibility for obesity away from poor dietary habits. Following public outcry, Muhtar Kent, then CEO, wrote a column pledging to “do better.”
Ponder this: Can corporate giants indeed reshape public health landscapes? In a 2013 blog post, Coke celebrated the removal of 1.5 trillion calories from the US market, a feat credited to reformulations and partnerships like the Healthy Weight Commitment Foundation. However, this post omitted the narrative about Coca-Cola’s larger caloric contributions—for instance, through products with increasing sugar content.
The inclusion of a photo of a seemingly candid meeting among health experts added a façade of legitimacy. Yet this was a scene sponsored by Coke and its allies, who had invested heavily in image preservation while ironically advancing high-calorie offerings like Coca-Cola Spiced.
One might find irony in a company like Coke, established to peddle sugary drinks, claiming to reduce overall sugar intake without considerable shifts toward alternative products.
Meanwhile, corporate narratives persistently challenge opposition. The International Life Sciences Institute was an active supporter of controversial sugar-science until debates escalated, prompting notable exits from its membership by corporations like Mars.
Candy Corporation Mars withdrew from this lobby group after it published a study critiquing negative sugar research. The move stood as a testament to the limits of even corporate-backed science. Is it beneficial for consumer choice to be clouded with advocacy-led studies?
Back in 2018, Coke and its allies launched a strategic campaign masked as a public initiative in California; an attempt to neutralize local soda taxes by pushing a broader fiscal requirement. Such an approach exemplifies preemption tactics commonly used by industries including those advocating gun rights.
Ultimately, the litigation initiated by the two pastors in DC dwindled and died out, emblematic of Coke’s robust defense apparatus. It left a lingering question—what insights might future generations gain from such tales of corporate perseverance?
Murray Carpenter is a health and science journalist and the author of “Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick” and “Caffeinated: How Our Daily Habit Helps, Hurts and Hooks Us.”
Edited By Ali Musa, Axadle Times international–Monitoring.
