An attractively typefaced webpage appears from the mist, complete with a photo of a torsoless man ready to ravish a David cookie dough protein bar. Below it, past a barrage of scientific rhetoric emphasizing David’s superhuman benefits, is the company’s manifesto:
“Michelangelo saw David inside the marble. He carved for three years until his masterpiece emerged. That’s why we’re called David: For the vision and discipline that transformation takes. David is a tool for change.”
Even disregarding this self-flattery, David’s proprietary “Gold” bars — which offer yet another low-cal, zero sugar entry into what The New York Times recently called “the protein bar arms race” — are producing millions in sales. With an 8% rise in ready-to-eat protein products from 2024 to 2025, so are the countless other innovations offered up by American food corporations, ranging from Dunkin’s strawberry protein refreshers to Kardashian-approved protein popcorn.
These sales figures are all too predictable, especially when 44% of Americans are looking to increase their protein intake, and 23% report following a “high protein” diet. If it feels like the buzzy macronutrient is everywhere, that’s because it is — in your shopping cart, in your cupholder, and in every fiber of your being.
“All your cells — your brain cells, your muscle cells, your blood cells — they all need protein,” Dr. Qianzhi Jiang, a registered dietitian and Emerson professor, told The Beacon. “A lot of our enzymes are made of protein, so for our metabolic reactions to happen efficiently, we need those enzymes.”
And yet, as its time in the sun only grows brighter, this craze is beginning to feel culty. Does that mean the entire protein industry is a scam? Not whatsoever. For those on GLP-1 medications, as well as adults in the 65+ range, upping protein intake can stabilize deteriorating muscle mass; for athletes, it can rebuild muscle tears and support elite performance; for average joes, it can help keep off stubborn pounds and fortify the immune system.
Is the industry a bubble? Maybe, if the U.S. government wasn’t actively securing its future. Last month, the Department of Health and Human Services announced a new set of dietary guidelines “evangelizing real foods,” which featured an increased protein recommendation of 1.2-1.6g per kilogram of body weight. That doubles the 0.8 g/kg recommendation from before, and reflects growing influence from dairy and meat lobbyists.
So, if our protein obsession is backed by science, RFK Jr., and every food conglomerate on earth, then is it — at the very least — overrated?
“[We] are already hitting the new recommendations,” said Jiang. “For a lot of people, we actually do not need to increase protein intake anymore.”
Research shows that the average U.S. adult eats 20% more protein than necessary, but there continues to be more pro-protein lobbying in 2026 than any one person can handle. The need isn’t there, yet the temptation is ever-present. If there’s something I’ve learned from developing eating issues as an adult, it’s that nobody has a one-size-fits-all cure for personal wellness, but everybody is desperately trying to find the next big shortcut.
This is the exploitable human flaw that powers the diet fad cycle, and has given rise to an endless series of snake oil salesmen over the years. In the latter quarter of the 20th century, it was celebrity spokespeople hocking appetite-suppressing diet pills, meal replacement shakes, and low-carb Atkins plans; in the social media age, these “health” companies have either gone bankrupt, been exposed as multi-level marketing schemes, or lost business to a much louder, much younger generation of fitness influencers.
“I just made the internet’s lowest-calorie, highest-protein peach pie,” says Instagrammer @dinero.wellness, one of thousands hocking secrets to buff physiques. “This is how you can eat like a fatass without looking like one.”
It’s that manufactured nightmare of being out of shape that undergirds all wellness rhetoric, and protein is just the latest in a line of answers that dates back to the U.S. government’s first dietary recommendations in 1977. Similar to the new HHS guidelines, the “McGovern report” put all its eggs in the carbohydrate basket and caused Americans to fear fat, thereby giving rise to a long-term wave of non-fat food products on grocery shelves.
“It’s more like a phase we’re going through,” Marc O’Meara, RD, LD, CDE, an outpatient nutritionist at Eat Balanced Nutrition, told The Beacon. “It was all fat-free back in the ‘90s, and it was a total disaster. They were making fat-free cookies and fat-free cake, and all people were doing was eating a bunch of sugar.”
We may not suck down SlimFast with as much fervor these days, but with an ever-growing market of protein powders, bars, and fast food products, visions of bicep-pumping glory have given consumers a new hope. Any nutritionist worth their salt would tell you that a menu emphasizing whole food proteins — from both plant and animal products — is a positive, but the key, according to O’Meara, is balance.
O’Meara advises clients that, along with a carb and lots of veggies, they really only need “a palmful of chicken” with their meals. While there’s not a hard upper limit for protein, a heavily skewed diet might ask certain organs to work overtime.
“I have a number of clients who are eating a crazy amount of protein, and their kidneys are showing signs of wear and tear,” O’Meara said. “They’re only in their 20s or 30s.”
This is an extreme case; the diminishing returns of an needlessly high-protein diet can be explained through sneakier damages. For example, as the demand for engineered protein products skyrockets, base ingredients (such as whey) have risen in price, supply chains have been stretched thin, and the lowly consumer has been asked to pick up the cost. Just look at the price of David bars, which, when sold in a one-time “bundle,” run you a staggering $156. With that same money, you could go to WalMart and buy 25 containers of Great Value cottage cheese, 6 packs of Purdue chicken breast tenders, 16 jars of Jif peanut butter, and a $1 DVD.
But even more embarrassing than the hole in your wallet is where all these extra nutrients go once you consume them. Unlike fats and carbs, protein hasn’t attracted wide scrutiny, and with fervent support from every direction it won’t be giving up its pedestal any time soon (even if experts are predicting an incoming fiber revolution). However, if you’re a simple human being who enjoys simple living — i.e. doesn’t work out enough to necessitate a grande Starbucks protein latte, a bag of Quest nacho cheese chips, and a turkey leg in one sitting — please remember one thing: moderation prevents diminishing returns.
Forget it, and you may find the benefits trickling away… quite literally.
“When you have a lot of excessive protein in your body and you’re not using it all up, the carbon-containing part can convert to fat and [be] stored in your body,” said Jiang. “And then the nitrogen part will be excreted out in your urine.”
“So basically, you’re peeing very expensive pee.”
