SUPER MARKETING

The idea that exotic plants possess special powers has spawned an industry worth billions – and the public’s appetite for chia seed puddings and spirulina smoothies is showing no sign of abating. But is it all just a clever marketing pitch?

Could sales executives be manufacturing superfoods?

What do Madagascar, Brazil and Bolivia have in common? No, they’re not the latest nations to be added to the green list, but the origin countries of three foods that have graduated to ‘superfood’ status. Be it baobab, açai or ashwagandha, the global superfood market has the potential to grow by £178bn by 2024, according to a report by market researchers Technavio, thanks in part to an ageing (and solvent) baby boomer generation determined to preserve its good health. While sales of the three aforementioned key wellness ingredients account for much of the profits, the sales of moringa products alone are poised to grow by £2.59bn in the same period. But to understand the nature of the boom, it pays to look beyond flavour and familiarity to what’s needed to turn an obscure foodstuff into big business.

WORKING MIRACLES

While the definition of a superfood – a nutrient-rich food considered to be especially beneficial for health and wellbeing – is sufficiently vague to apply to pretty much any fruit, vegetable or grain, ingredients with far-flung origins are much more likely to earn such status. ‘Superfood implies something exotic,’ says Paul Zullo, managing director at Silver Creative, a food and drink branding company. He explains that they tend to make use of the same formula: an ingredient that hails from somewhere far away from the Western world, which helps locals to achieve miraculous health and may well do the same for you.

Take moringa; nowadays available in every health food shop on the high street in tea, powder or capsule form, it’s the fruit of a tree native to India. The most cultivated species, the moringa oleifera, grows in the Himalayas, where it’s been used for generations as an energy booster; other varieties are native to Africa. Lisa Curtis was introduced to moringa in 2010, while volunteering in Niger. A group of villagers told her about a local edible plant, whose leaves were high in vitamins and minerals, making it a valuable commodity in areas with limited food. It was even drought-resistant, thus a reliable source of calories in times of crisis. This moringa plant, they said, was a miracle. The following year, Lisa returned to the US and launched Kuli Kuli, a company stocking moringa snack products. Far from being a simple re-energising tonic, purported benefits of moringa – touted by companies like Kuli Kuli – include lowering blood pressure and blood sugar, fighting cancer and even protecting against arsenic toxicity. Quite the multitasker. Moringa products tend to come emblazoned with all the standard buzzwords – ‘organic’, ‘raw’, ‘vegan’, ‘Gmo-free’ – and often advertise that they’re better for you than kale. As for the taste? Well, it’s a bit like grass clippings and wet earth, so throwing moringa in a smoothie makes it easier to swallow.

SEEDS OF CHANGE

It’s easy to see the marketing appeal of a ‘miracle tree’. But here’s the rub: no one shopping for moringa powder in the UK is likely to use it in the same way as the Sudanese locals who gave the plant its nickname. That’s because they weren’t sprinkling its leaves on their porridge. They had a more urgent concern: drinking water. Powdered moringa seeds, not leaves, can effectively purify H²O, but not so much the human body. Nevertheless, many manufacturers push moringa supplements as a way to help you

‘detox’. What’s more, Dr Kevin Klatt, a biochemist at Cornell University in New York, observes that moringa’s champions point to a specific kind of disease-fighting antioxidant called isothiocyanate as a reason to love the plant. Other sources of isothiocyanates? The slightly less sexy cruciferous family of veg; things like broccoli, cabbage and cauliflower.

For Dr Klatt and other critics of superfoods, the purported benefits of

their nutritional make-up are only part of the problem. ‘I’m not a fan of the word “superfood”,’ says Dr Klatt, pointing out that it encourages consumers to chase magic bullets rather than examining their diet in a more holistic way. Indeed, ask any dietitian – or read their thoughts on these pages every month – and they’ll tell you that it’s your overall eating patterns, as opposed to specific ingredients – that hold the key to good health, with an emphasis on choosing whole foods over supplements. Consider, too, what you’re not eating when you’re homing in on one ingredient, adds dietitian Sophie Medlin (citydietitians.co.uk). ‘We know that plant diversity is key, and that eating fruits and vegetables from every colour group is important,’ she shares. ‘So tipping that balance by consuming a lot of one “superfood” can cause you to reduce the variety in your diet.’ Faced with this consensus – and an increasingly savvy target market – brands are now appealing to consumers with a higher cause.

CONSCIOUS CONSUMPTION

As if the promise to improve your health wasn’t enough, many superfood purveyors want to improve the planet, too. Take top superfood seller Aduna, which describes itself on its website as not only a health food brand, but ‘a social business’; its mission is to secure a sustainable livelihood for rural households in Africa. Alexander Chernev, a professor of marketing at Northwestern University’s Kellogg School of Management, explains that the appeal of such a purchase is likely to be twofold. ‘Say I buy a bottle of Ethos water,’ he says, referring to Starbucks’s American subsidiary that contributes five cents of every purchase to its Ethos Clean Water Fund. ‘One reason is that I want to reward the company for its good behaviour. The other reason is that I feel some sort of moral satisfaction: I believe I’m a socially responsible person.’

While these initiatives are, by all measures, good things, there’s still a whiff of the ancient magic – consuming something with a good soul to fortify your own. And with so-called superfoods, the feel-good ritual happens twice: once when you buy the product, then again when you consume it. There’s also a feedback loop formed in doing good and feeling good, thanks to a phenomenon known as the halo effect. Professor Chernev has studied the effect of perceived corporate responsibility on product evaluations – when consumers were told a company was engaged in charitable giving, their experience of the company’s product improved: wine tasted better, teeth looked whiter, hair looked thicker.

The problem remains that many so-called superfoods are bound up with shaky scientific claims, regardless of brands’ charitable endeavours. Yes, moringa’s nutritional benefits are impressive, but it’s only ‘super’ for people living in parts of the world with high levels of malnutrition. As for the average Whole Foods shopper, the extent of its effects is liable to be underwhelming. In truth, there is no powder that can heal your woes. ‘Unfortunately, I’m yet to see a superfood that will actually be of significant short or long-term benefit, especially as they so often come as a highly processed powder or a form that moves you further away from eating less processed and more local food,’ adds Medlin. Her advice? Acknowledge the appeal of superfoods for what it is – the promise of an easy solution – while relying on the rather less headline-worthy but no less super staples: gut-supporting grains, brain-boosting oily fish and fibre-filled legumes. We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again: not all food heroes wear capes.

It’s easy to see the marketing appeal of a ‘miracle tree’