France’s political and economic troubles are beginning to weigh heavily on daily life. Fitch’s downgrade of the country’s credit rating to A+ was not only a judgment on fiscal policy; it was a signal that the room for manoeuvre is shrinking fast. With the country’s debt expected to climb to more than 120 percent of GDP and the political system unable to deliver credible consolidation, the challenge is no longer abstract. It will shape how people live, what they can afford, and what ends up on their tables.
For households already adjusting to tighter budgets, the cost of food has become one of the clearest markers of stress. France’s inflation may have cooled from its peak, but supermarket prices remain far higher than they were two years ago. Fresh produce, meat, and fish are among the products hit hardest. According to Eurostat, nearly one in 9 Europeans could not afford a quality meal every other day in 2024. In France, surveys by consumer organisations show that even middle-income families have shifted to smaller baskets and cheaper staples.
It is in this context that the debate over so-called “ultra-processed foods” has taken a sharper turn. What was once a discussion about health and nutrition has become a moral argument, with entire categories of food cast as villains. Yet the term itself has no consistent definition. It can describe both confectionery and energy drinks, but also canned beans, milk powder, fortified cereals, and long-life bread. In practice, these foods play vastly different roles in people’s diets and in society. Treating them as one and the same obscures the complexity of modern food systems.
Everyday essentials
Processing techniques—canning, pasteurisation, freezing, or fortification—were invented to make food safer and more stable. They remain indispensable. In low-income communities across Europe, shelf-stable products ensure that households can access vegetables, proteins, and vitamins without the expense or waste of daily fresh shopping. A can of sardines or lentils, for example, delivers affordable protein that can be stored for months. Fortified flours and cereals contribute essential micronutrients such as iron, folate, and B12.
The economic logic is equally clear. Processed foods often cost far less per serving than their fresh counterparts. In a recent study published in the American Journal of Lifestyle Medicine, researchers found that canned foods are, on average, 50 percent cheaper than fresh or frozen alternatives while maintaining similar nutrient content. This is not an argument for replacing fresh produce but a reminder that affordability is part of nutrition. A healthy diet must also be one people can afford.
In emergency contexts, these same products are literal lifelines. In Gaza and Sudan, the World Food Programme and the Red Cross rely on processed staples—fortified flour, milk powder, canned legumes—to sustain communities facing scarcity. Processing, far from being an indulgence, is often the difference between hunger and survival. The same principles apply, albeit less dramatically, in Europe. When energy costs rise and wages stagnate, it is processing that keeps food accessible, safe, and stable.
Beyond convenience
Critics often associate processed foods with excess, but their value lies in predictability and safety. Pasteurisation eliminates pathogens in dairy and fruit juices. Sterilisation through canning prevents contamination in low-acid foods like fish or vegetables. Quick-freezing retains vitamins and texture without additives. These are not shortcuts; they are the infrastructure of public health.
Their environmental impact can also be positive. Shelf-stable foods reduce spoilage, a major driver of greenhouse gas emissions. Europe wastes nearly one-third of the food it produces, much of it fresh. By extending shelf life, processed products help stabilise supply chains and reduce pressure on cold storage and transport. When responsibly produced, they can be part of a more sustainable model of consumption.
A question of balance
The problem with the current narrative is not that it encourages healthy eating but that it leaves no room for nuance. If all processed food is labelled suspect, public policy risks driving up costs for the people least able to bear them. The idea of eliminating processing from diets may sound virtuous, but it would also mean higher prices, shorter shelf lives, and more waste.
Research supports a more measured view. A 2024 analysis published by the University of São Paulo found wide variation in the nutritional value of processed foods, with several categories—such as fortified grains, dairy, and legumes—contributing positively to diet quality. The same study concluded that consumer education, rather than blanket restriction, was the most effective way to improve nutrition.
The economic lens
France’s political paralysis adds another layer to this story. With fiscal tightening expected and purchasing power under strain, policymakers cannot afford to treat affordability as an afterthought. Food inflation erodes living standards faster than most other price shocks because it affects everyone. The value of processed and shelf-stable foods lies precisely in their capacity to cushion these shocks.
During the 2022 drought, when agricultural yields fell and logistics costs spiked, it was canned and frozen goods that kept supermarket shelves stocked. When energy prices rose in 2023, households turned to long-life products to manage storage and cooking costs. These patterns show that processing provides resilience in volatile times.
In the coming years, that resilience will matter even more. Fitch’s downgrade is a warning not just to investors but to citizens: governments will have less room to shield consumers from economic shocks. If austerity measures return, food affordability will become a central test of social stability. Processed foods, including those that critics now target, will continue to play a crucial role in maintaining access to balanced nutrition.
A pragmatic path forward
Europe’s food future cannot rest on nostalgia for an imagined past of daily markets and unprocessed meals. Urbanisation, demographic change, and working patterns make that impossible. What it can rest on is pragmatism: recognising that technology, fortification, and preservation are tools of equity as much as convenience.
Rather than vilifying processing, policymakers should focus on quality standards and affordability. Consumers deserve safe products, not moral instruction. Producers, especially small and medium-sized ones, should be supported to innovate responsibly, not punished for operating in an industrial food system that feeds hundreds of millions.
A healthy society is not defined by the absence of processing but by the presence of choice. In an economy under pressure, that choice must include affordable, safe, and accessible foods that adapt to the realities of modern life.
