If We Can’t Trust Our Food, How Can We Trust Our Leaders?

Two months in Europe changed the way I see leadership, trust, and what’s on our plates.

I didn’t expect the most powerful leadership lesson of my summer in Europe to come from a plate of pasta.

But there I was, in a small trattoria in Tuscany, eating more bread and pasta than I have in years — and feeling incredible. No bloating. No brain fog. No energy crash. Just good food that nourished me. Day after day, I ate what I would normally avoid back home in Canada, and my body thrived.

At first, I thought I was imagining it. Maybe it was all the walking. Maybe it was vacation magic. But then I started reading labels. I started asking questions. And what I discovered shook me: many of the additives and ingredients that are banned in Italy — banned across Europe for safety reasons — are still sitting on Canadian shelves, baked into Canadian bread, poured into Canadian drinks. And suddenly, this wasn’t about food anymore. It was about leadership. It was about trust. And it was about what happens when the systems we’re supposed to rely on stop protecting us.

The Moment I Stopped Trusting

The more I looked, the more disillusioned I became. Titanium dioxide — banned in Europe because of its potential to damage DNA — is still permitted in Canada. Brominated vegetable oil — linked to neurological issues and memory problems — still shows up here. Potassium bromate — classified as a possible carcinogen — is still allowed in bread. (European Food Safety Authority, 2021, Regask)

Meanwhile, Italy even went so far as to ban lab-grown synthetic meats in 2023, citing citizen safety and food culture, while our regulators haven’t even begun that conversation. (Chambers, 2023) So I asked myself: how is it that one country — with the same access to science and research — deems these substances too risky for its people, while another shrugs and says, “It’s fine”?

That’s not a scientific gap. That’s a leadership gap. And it’s exactly the kind of gap that erodes trust.

Leadership Starts With What Fuels Us

Food isn’t just food. It’s the fuel that builds our bodies and shapes our health. It’s the foundation on which everything else rests — from how children learn, to how workers perform, to how societies thrive. If leadership can’t be trusted to protect us at that most basic level, why would we trust it on anything more complex?

And right now, our foundations are cracking. North America faces soaring rates of obesity, autoimmune disease, metabolic dysfunction, and chronic illness. And yes, lifestyle and choices matter — but so does leadership. Leadership decides what’s allowed on our shelves. Leadership decides how much industry influence is tolerated in the decision-making process. Leadership decides whether caution is a principle or an inconvenience.

If those leaders allow our food supply to be saturated with chemicals and additives that other nations have rejected, then what message does that send about whose interests they truly serve?

The Trust Crisis Is Already Here

This isn’t paranoia — it’s happening. Edelman’s Trust and Health report shows that most people no longer trust the systems designed to protect them. In fact, “friends and family” now outrank scientists and doctors as the most trusted sources of health information. (Edelman Trust Barometer 2025)

Think about that for a second. We live in an age where people believe their cousin’s Facebook post more than their country’s health ministry — and that’s not their fault. It’s the inevitable result of leaders and systems that have failed to act transparently, failed to protect us consistently, and failed to earn the trust they expect.

Trust isn’t rebuilt with press releases. It’s rebuilt with choices. And those choices begin with the things that affect us every single day — starting with what’s on our plates.

The Leadership We Need Now

If this is what our food system looks like, is it any wonder that trust in leadership is collapsing? If leaders can’t summon the courage to ban what science says is harmful, how will they lead us through bigger crises? COVID-19 fiasco, anyone? If systems can’t align policy with evidence when it comes to bread, how will they manage artificial intelligence, immigration systems, or public health?

We need leaders who are willing to tell the truth — even when it’s inconvenient. Leaders who act in the public interest before industry interests. Leaders who take a long view of human well-being, not a quarterly view of profit. Leaders who understand that trust isn’t a speech, it’s a series of decisions.

And we, as citizens, need to demand that kind of leadership. Because history tells us that without pressure from the people, change doesn’t come.

What Future Are We Building?

We have a choice to make. Do we want a population that’s overweight, sick, and dependent — easy to manage, easy to distract, easy to placate? Or do we want one that’s strong, vibrant, healthy, and capable of building a better future?

That choice doesn’t begin with abstract policy or distant global summits. It begins with food. With the laws that govern it. With the courage to say, “We will not allow what harms us, no matter how profitable it is.”

Because once we accept compromised foundations in our food, we normalize compromise everywhere else. We accept watered-down action on healthcare. We accept half-measures on crime. We accept dishonesty in politics. And step by step, trust disappears — not in a single dramatic collapse, but in a slow erosion that leaves societies brittle and cynical.

Truth Is an Act of Leadership

Two months in Europe changed the way I see leadership. It showed me that truth — real truth — is often uncomfortable. In a little village in the Czech Republic, where my dad was from and where I now have a home, I learned that truth was once an act of dissent in tearing down communism. In Italy, I learned that truth is also an act of leadership. Leadership is saying; We will not serve our people what we know is harmful. Leadership is being transparent about how and why decisions are made. Leadership is building systems that deserve trust — instead of demanding it.

So I return home not just frustrated, but determined. Determined to use my voice. Determined to ask harder questions. Determined to stand up and demand leadership that values our health, our future, and our trust. The resistance to government that no longer serves us is growing, and I am ready to lead.

Because history tells us that if we do not speak, nothing changes. And if nothing changes, the systems that govern us — and the leaders who run them — will continue to serve themselves and their wallets.

It starts with food. But it does not end there.