Has ‘Big Protein’ Gone Too Far?

Every day when I get home from the gym, the first thing I do is pull out a translucent green shaker bottle. I add two heaping scoops of fluffy white powder, a few ice cubes, and then I fill up the bottle with tap water. Like a gym bro bartender, I give it a few hearty shakes over my head before chugging the whole vaguely vanilla-flavoured thing down.

I wouldn’t say it tastes “good,” per se. But the humble protein shake doesn’t exist to be enjoyed — it is utilitarian, and very explicitly does one thing well: it delivers as much protein in as little volume (and calories) as it can. That’s what has made it a staple of gym-goers for decades.

But in recent years, protein has become a buzzword outside of the gym, invading nutrition vernacular from grocery store shelves to fast-food drive-thrus. Now, we’re in an age of ‘big protein,’ where everything seems to have protein in it. Innocuous, everyday items that wouldn’t seem to offer much protein on their own, from cookies to chips to iced coffee, all now have protein-enhanced options that seem to be marketed in service of maximizing your consumption of the super macro.

Tim Horton’s now sells “protein lattes” and Subway has introduced their own bowls — specifically a version of “slop bowls” — predicated on protein content. On grocery store and wellness store shelves you can get not only the traditional protein bars and powders usually found in a bro’s gym bag, but protein-packed chips, protein-enhanced bread, protein-rich donuts and even protein-laced maple syrup.

Restaurant menus boast about each item’s protein content, for those keen to do math while waiting in line for their takeout. And I can’t escape my TikTok feed without catching some video or another espousing a Greek yogurt-heavy “high-protein bagel” recipe.

In recent years, thanks to influencer culture and plenty of pop science, protein has developed a reputation as a miracle macro: It can ostensibly help you lose weight, heal your injuries, fight cancer and even get better skin.

It’s also strongly recommended that people on GLP-1 agonist medications for weight loss like Ozempic and Wegovy prioritize their protein intake as a way to maintain muscle even as they consume fewer calories overall.

But there’s more to the collective protein passion than meets the eye. Protein’s moment in the pop-science spotlight speaks to our cultural obsession with maximizing everything we do — even if it comes at the expense of actually enjoying things.

In a culture obsessed with maximizing productivity and optimizing our time and resources, it makes sense that we might want to pack in the nutrients we need, everywhere we can.

You need protein to build muscle. But how much?

I started regularly seeing a personal trainer three years ago. I had just had top surgery, and was keen to not only recover strength and improve my mobility, but also — I’ll admit, vainly — I wanted to gain muscle. After years of gender-related discomfort, I was finally free and ready to hit the gym, freed of the literal burden of flesh I’d been carrying around since I was a teenager.

My trainer initially suggested a diet plan structured around losing weight, which I pushed back firmly against in order to preserve my healthy relationship to hazy IPAs, coffee-shop donuts and all-dressed chips. I had no huge interest in slimming down — if anything, I vainly wanted to bulk up, and fantasized about my arms and shoulders filling out my T-shirts with all of this muscle I was about to build in the gym.

One piece of guidance I immediately internalized from my trainer and the internet was that if I wanted to go Popeye mode, I needed to increase my protein intake. Unlike the cartoon sailor, one does not get jacked on spinach alone. Experts across the nutrition, fitness and health industries all agree: you need protein — and lots of it — in order to efficiently build muscle.

But no one can seem to agree on exactly how much. A quick Google search will return a pile of studies, experts and explainers, all of them boasting slightly different suggestions for the optimal protein number to hit in a day.

Official guidance from the Government of Canada doesn’t even give a daily recommended intake number on Nutrition Facts labels on packaged food products, suggesting that there is no need because, “Most people get enough protein, so it is not a health concern for Canadians who eat a mixed diet.” The 2020–2025 Dietary Guidelines for Americans sets an ideal daily goal of protein intake at 56 grams for men aged 19 and up. Both Dieticians of Canada and the government of B.C.’s HealthLink website suggests healthy adults need around 0.8 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight — for me that would work out to around 75 grams a day.

But all of that’s a baseline, and conventional wisdom suggests a lot more if you are remotely actively, or intentionally seeking to build muscle.

The mantra amongst weightlifting and strength-training communities for the past decade or so has been (loosely) a gram of protein per pound of bodyweight. Many experts dispute this number, however, advocating for lower numbers closer to 0.7 grams per pound of bodyweight, or to make calculations based on lean mass rather than total bodyweight.

But regardless of the exact number you’re aiming for as an individual, more people than before are actively seeking out protein. And like the high-fibre, low-fat and “heart healthy” food trends that preceded “big protein,” the big capitalist food marketing machine is responding. Protein has become a multi-billion-dollar industry, as every brand and business jockeys to get in on the game.

“Unlike the other core macro-nutrients, fat and carbohydrates, which have at various points been demonized by pop-science journalism and fad diets, protein is something people can largely agree on regardless of identity or political affiliation,” Chris Gayomali wrote for New York Magazine back in February.

While the medical establishment at various points has suggested increased protein intake could be tied to high rates of cancer or kidney disease, modern science suggests this is more about meat consumption than specifically protein. So the broad idea of consuming more protein is, for the most part, sound health advice.

But it all raises a philosophical question of sorts: do we even need protein-rich coffee? Should coffee — filtered bean juice that gives us energy — also be a source of protein? Should potato chips — a snack that in their best form are a bit greasy and covered in salt — also deliver a serving of protein?

I think back to what I learned in grade school from Canada’s Food Guide. Nutrition — whether you’re a dietician expert or an average joe — is about balance. The human body is a complex little machine that requires a bunch of pieces to work; it’s one of the greatest perks of our omnivorous nature. Protein is one of those pieces, alongside fat and carbs and all the vitamins and micronutrients that keep us feeling our best.

We seek these nutrients out from different sources. An egg yolk gives plenty of healthy fats, while oats are full of fibre. Protein has typically come from meats or vegetarian sources like edamame, quinoa and tofu.

But we consume other things for other more abstract purposes beyond those scientific-sounding core nutrients, too. A donut is a special treat for a special occasion. A coffee gives us caffeine to perk up in the morning. Maple syrup makes our pancakes moist and sweet.

So what happens when everything has to be protein-enhanced? When that donut is slightly worse — but it has protein! When that coffee isn’t the same as usual and maybe makes your stomach gurgle — but it has protein! Or you have to pay more for the maple syrup — but with protein!

Amid the gains, there are losses

The last year of my undergraduate degree coincided with the boom in popularity of the meal replacement Soylent. Named for the industrially produced food in the 1966 dystopian sci-fi novel Make Room! Make Room!, Soylent is a tech-bro branded meal replacement shake that’s still around today in various forms, despite some controversies around its alleged lead content.

Wanting to save money and time, the idea of simply downing a bottle full of everything I needed seemed appealing to me back in 2016. Both my roommate at the time and I subscribed to the mail-in service for a while, getting regular deliveries of white plastic bottles full of vanilla, strawberry, chocolate and even coffee-flavoured meal replacement. Each boasted the calories, protein and other base nutrients someone needed to ostensibly survive. It was relatively cheap, super convenient and seemed like a great idea.

But the bloom on the Soylent rose faded fast for us. I kept ordering these six-packs of superfood drinks to our Commercial Drive basement suite, but when mealtime came around, I found myself gravitating towards nearby Red Burrito, a heaping prosciutto sandwich from La Grotta del Formaggio down the street or even a box of KD rather than the ostensibly more nutrient-efficient super-shakes in our pantry.

By the time we moved out of that place, I ended up having to throw out a frankly embarrassing amount of Soylent that had gone bad sitting in our pantry for years. It turns out food is meant to be enjoyed.

When a barista recently asked me if I wanted to upgrade my iced coffee to a protein latte (for only $1.50 extra!) I was reminded of my Soylent days.

Should I maximize my gains in the most efficient way possible? Or simply appreciate the coffee for what it is?

I opted for the plain coffee, knowing that later that day I’d be back in the gym, then home to my shaker bottle and fluffy white powder.

The humble protein shake has a purpose — but perhaps not everything needs to try to be the protein shake.