Uneven dietary developmentlinking the policies and processes of globalization with the nutrition transition, obesity and diet-related chronic diseases
For most of the twentieth century, the story of hunger was about not enough — not enough calories, not enough protein, not enough reach. Then, sometime in the 1980s and 1990s, something flipped. The countries that had barely solved undernutrition began accumulating a second crisis on top of it: obesity, type 2 diabetes, and heart disease. These issues did not replace the old problems but appeared alongside them. That hinge point has a name: the nutrition transition. This lecture is about tracing exactly who pulled the levers that made it happen. Corinna Hawkes, in her paper titled Uneven Dietary Development, argues that the nutrition transition — the shift in developing and middle-income countries toward diets high in fats and sweeteners — is not a spontaneous cultural drift. It is rooted in the machinery of globalization. Specifically, it involves three interlocking pathways: the production and trade of agricultural goods, foreign direct investment in food processing and retailing, and global food advertising and promotion. Together, these pathways reshape what foods are available, what they cost, and how desirable they feel. Hawkes's key insight is that this isn't just economic policy; it's dietary policy, whether governments intended it or not.
Before getting into how these pathways operate, it's worth noting the dominant explanation that Hawkes is pushing back against. The so-called Coca-Colonization hypothesis holds that globalization homogenizes diets — that the world is simply converging on a Western pattern of junk food and sugary drinks. Hawkes argues that this is only a partial picture. Yes, convergence happens, but transnational food companies also adapt aggressively to local markets, targeting different products at different socioeconomic groups. The result is a convergence-divergence duality, and that distinction has real consequences because it means the worst dietary outcomes often fall on the people least equipped to resist them. Now to the first pathway: agriculture and trade. Hawkes's case study covers Brazil, China, and India, with soybean oil at the center. What the case reveals is how a sequence of specific policy decisions stitched together a global vegetable oil market and, in doing so, flooded developing-world diets with dietary fat. In Brazil, reforms in the 1990s — including opening markets to foreign investment, restructuring farm income taxes, lowering input tariffs, and eliminating the soybean export tax — cut production costs and attracted transnational firms like Cargill and Bunge. Soybean oil production rose from around 2.7 million metric tonnes in the early 1990s to 4.5 million tonnes by the early 2000s, marking a sixty-seven percent increase. Exports more than doubled.
However, the telling detail is that Brazilians themselves did not consume much of it. The expansion was built for export. The demand came from China and India. China changed tax and import rules throughout the 1990s, and after joining the World Trade Organization, it slashed tariffs further. Soybean imports to China jumped from roughly 2 million tonnes to over 14 million tonnes in the same period, and per-capita calories from soybean oil rose from 27 to 78 kilocalories per day. India eliminated its import monopoly in 1994, became the world's leading importer of edible oils, and watched soybean oil climb from 7 percent to 21 percent of all vegetable oil calories. These were not invisible market forces; they were policy choices in Brazil, Beijing, and New Delhi that created a fat supply chain across three continents. There was also a health wrinkle. Hydrogenating soybean oil produces trans fatty acids linked to a higher risk of coronary heart disease. This prompted mandatory labelling in Brazil, Canada, and the United States. The industry responded: in late 2004, Monsanto and Cargill announced Vistive soybeans, and DuPont with Bunge introduced Nutrium — varieties engineered to require only partial hydrogenation, thus reducing trans fat content. The companies paid premiums along the supply chain to bring these oils to market. This was a policy-driven problem generating a market-driven fix.
The second pathway is foreign direct investment, and Mexico under the North American Free Trade Agreement is Hawkes's sharpest illustration. The agreement, signed in 1994, along with Mexico's Foreign Investment Act of 1993, dismantled the old fifty-one to forty-nine domestic ownership rule, banned performance requirements like minimum domestic content, and gave foreign investors stronger rights to repatriate profits. The numbers that followed are striking. U.S. investment in Mexican food processing rose from two hundred ten million dollars in 1987 to five point three billion dollars in 1999. Between 1999 and 2004, U.S. and other investors put six point four billion dollars into Mexico's agricultural and food industries. In 1998, sales by U.S. food affiliates in Mexico exceeded twelve billion dollars. Nearly three-quarters of that investment targeted processed foods, and the sector responded. Between 1995 and 2003, sales of processed foods in Mexico grew by five to ten percent per year. Snack sales rose twelve percent in the first half of 2004 alone. Calories from carbonated soft drinks climbed from forty-four to sixty-one kilocalories per capita per day between 1992 and 2000. Coca-Cola servings per person per year rose from 275 in 1992 to 487 in 2002.
Investment also restructured where Mexicans shop. Chain supermarkets, discounters, and convenience stores expanded from fewer than seven hundred outlets to nearly five thousand eight hundred by 2004. The convenience store OXXO grew to three thousand five hundred stores between 1999 and 2004. The Mexican Chamber of Commerce put it starkly: five traditional tiendas — the small neighborhood shops that still account for over ninety percent of food purchases in small towns — close for every convenience store that opens. The tiendas are not passive victims either; over ninety percent of Coca-Cola and PepsiCo sales still run through them. However, the retail landscape was being remapped by capital flows authorized by trade law. The dietary result was that the share of total energy from fat in Mexican diets rose from twenty-three point five percent in 1988 to thirty point three percent in 1999. Purchases of refined carbohydrates increased thirty-seven point two percent between 1984 and 1998. Overweight and obesity rose seventy-eight percent between 1988 and 1998, growing from thirty-three percent to fifty-nine percent of the population. The greatest relative increases were in the poorer southern regions — eighty-one percent — compared to forty-six percent in the wealthier north. That regional split is exactly what Hawkes's convergence-divergence model predicts: the heaviest health burdens land on those with the fewest buffers.
The third pathway is marketing, and Hawkes's case is Thailand and the snack-food market. Thailand's policy environment set the stage: foreign ownership of advertising agencies is unrestricted, and trade frameworks under the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and the ASEAN Free Trade Area encouraged an influx of foreign brands that needed aggressive local promotion. Advertising expenditures grew nearly eight hundred percent between 1987 and 1996. PepsiCo's Frito-Lay is the central actor. The company entered Thailand via a joint venture in 1985, formed Pepsi Foods Thailand in 1995, bought a major rival in 1999, and relocated its Asia-Pacific headquarters to Bangkok in 2000. The strategic goal was explicit: raise per-capita snack consumption, which was about one kilogram per person per year. Frito-Lay more than doubled its promotional spending between 1999 and 2003. Market share grew from low single digits in the mid-1990s to thirty percent by 2003. Sales went from eight hundred eighty-five million baht in 1997 to two billion eight hundred sixty-five million baht in 2002.
What made this work was what the industry calls glocal marketing: global objectives executed through locally adapted messages and media. Frito-Lay's main agency, BBDO Bangkok, part of Omnicom's global network, blended international media buying efficiency with Thai creative sensibility. Television was the primary transmission system; a late-1990s national survey found ninety-four point five percent of Thai children watched TV, and one study counted an average of sixty-seven different snack products advertised during a single weekend morning block. Between 1999 and 2004, sweet and savory snack sales in Thailand rose thirty-five percent by volume. The most heavily promoted categories — chips and extruded snacks — increased by roughly sixty-three and sixty-nine percent respectively. Thai children now obtain an estimated twenty-three percent of their calories from snacks. So, what does all of this add up to? Hawkes's convergence-divergence model ties the three case studies together. The same forces that spread soybean oil and processed foods globally also enable transnational companies to target niche markets by income, age, and region.
As gross national product rises, beyond a threshold of roughly two thousand five hundred dollars per capita, the obesity burden tends to shift toward lower socioeconomic groups — particularly women. The global market integration that was supposed to develop these economies has, through agriculture policy, investment law, and marketing reach, also reshaped their disease burden. The policy implications that Hawkes draws are direct. Labeling — the most widely used population-level tool — and restrictions on food advertising can shift consumer signals, though information-based measures tend to benefit the already educated. Foreign direct investment is one upstream entry point where leverage exists: conditions attached to investment could redirect farm-to-fork incentives toward lower socioeconomic groups. The deeper point is this: because global economic policies shape what the world eats, they are themselves food policies and health policies. The levers that built this problem are identifiable, which means they can be redesigned. This lecture was created by ennepō. Go to https://ennepo.ai to Discover, Create and Follow the latest research in your field. Read when you can. Listen when you want to.
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