As food technology transforms what we eat, what are the consequences for people, nature, and business?
Imagine buying ice cream made with real milk proteins, but with no cow involved in producing them.
Or buying chocolate made without cocoa.
That future has already arrived.
Unilever's Breyers brand introduced a frozen dessert made with whey protein produced through precision fermentation, and it’s already in stores. Other examples include Bored Cow, which introduced animal-free milk beverages made with precision-fermented whey protein, and Nurishh Incredible Dairy, a Bel Brands product line that brought animal-free cream cheese made with the same technology to grocery shelves. Perfect Day powers all of these.
Meanwhile, food companies are actively developing cocoa-free chocolate alternatives using ingredients such as sunflower seeds, grape seeds and other agricultural products.
Three-dimensional food printing, “cultivated” meat, advances in biotechnology and biochemistry, CRISPR, and other technological advances are further reshaping what food production can do.
These innovations are fascinating. They could reduce pressure on natural resources, diversify supply chains, and create new economic opportunities. And they also raise questions that extend well beyond technology.
Is industry stewarding nature at the expense of people? Or are business leaders taking responsibility for both?
Consider cocoa.
The global cocoa industry has struggled for decades with child labor, poverty among smallholder farming families, deforestation, and environmental degradation. Companies have made commitments to address these conditions, yet serious problems persist, and much of the cocoa supply chain remains unaddressed for the worst forms of child labor.
Now consider the emergence of cocoa-free chocolate.
If companies can produce a comparable product without cocoa, does that absolve them of responsibility for the labor and livelihood challenges associated with traditional cocoa production? Or does responsible leadership require something more than finding an alternative ingredient?
What happens to farmers and communities whose livelihoods depend on cocoa? Could declining demand deepen economic hardship? Might new agricultural markets emerge to replace lost opportunities?
And what happens to the longstanding commitments companies have made to improve conditions within their traditional supply chains?
These questions, and others like them, deserve consideration before anyone celebrates any innovation as inherently “more sustainable.”
Another dimension is the consumer.
Consumers have spent years asking food companies for more transparency, naturally-sourced ingredients, and greater confidence in the origins and handling of their food.
Now companies are introducing products that challenge familiar definitions.
Is chocolate still chocolate without cocoa? Is dairy still dairy without a cow? If cocoa-free chocolate is made from agricultural ingredients transformed through fermentation, is it natural? It does undergo a natural process. Does the process matter more than the source, or the source more than the process?
Companies should not answer these questions on behalf of consumers.
For too long, businesses have approached unfamiliar food technologies assuming consumers simply need to be educated.
I disagree. Through my career, I’ve found that consumers want to be engaged, not educated. There is a difference.
Engagement begins with listening. It respects consumers' questions, preferences, and concerns. It invites people into a conversation about innovation, ingredients, production methods, and the consequences of their choices before the technology is thrust on them.
Consumers should not encounter unfamiliar technological ingredients without clear explanations and meaningful opportunities to express their preferences. Nor should they be expected to embrace an innovation simply because a company has determined that it delivers environmental or economic benefits.
Ultimately, consumers determine whether these products succeed in the marketplace.
I am not arguing against innovation. Innovation is essential to productivity, competition, and progress. And I am certainly not suggesting that traditional agricultural systems should remain unchanged simply because people depend on them.
I am asking whether business leaders have fully considered—beyond their leadership tenure—the implications of the changes they are introducing.
A technology may reduce environmental impacts while reshaping livelihoods. A new ingredient may improve supply security while challenging consumer expectations. A company may exit a problematic supply chain without necessarily resolving the conditions that made it problematic.
None of these questions requires leaders to choose between people and nature. They require them to consider both.
This is where steward leadership becomes essential.
Steward leaders look beyond innovation's immediate commercial promise. They examine the consequences for people, nature, communities and markets. They invite scrutiny, engage consumers, and ensure responsibility extends beyond their own operations.
The changing shape of food offers an extraordinary opportunity to advance innovation while corporate leadership reconsiders its responsibilities. Our company is eager to help companies navigate these shifting production methods.
The question is not simply what technology makes possible. It is whether leaders have fully considered the consequences of what they choose to bring to market.