How Did We Get Here? Behavioural Science, Baby Food, and the Quiet Redesign of Parental Choice

A few weeks ago, I wrote a LinkedIn post in response to the BBC Panorama investigation into baby food. It questioned not just the nutritional profile of the products, but the way brands like Ella’s Kitchen responded to criticism. I didn't expect over 140k people to see it - i might have taken more care in writing it rather than bashing out thoughts on the stopper train from Kings Cross to Peterborough.

But that post sparked a wave of discussion, hundreds of comments, DMs, and shares from parents, health professionals, and marketers who felt something wasn’t right either.

The conversation showed me how deeply this issue resonated. It wasn’t just about food; it was about trust, identity, and the invisible pressures shaping parenthood. It made me want to dig deeper, not just emotionally, but academically. As someone studying behavioural science and working in food and consumer research, plus with two kids of my own, I felt I had a responsibility to unpack how we got here.

I made the behavioural science of baby food the subject of my module essay and spent HOURS researching....here is a short and less academic version of what I found...

In one of the wealthiest countries in the world, with more cookbooks, podcasts, Instagram reels and recipe apps than any generation before us, many parents still find themselves standing in the baby aisle, feeling that the right choice is the ready-made pouch, not the lovingly homemade puree, carefully cooked carrots and whole foods that make weaning messy and fun.

Why?

Not because we’re lazy. Not because we don’t care. And certainly not because we’re uninformed. Because the baby food industry has redesigned how we make decisions.

And they’ve done it using the very tools behavioural scientists developed to help people make better choices. They got us at our most vulnerable, anxious time and used it to make commercial gain under the guide of helping us navigate this difficult time.

What We Think Is Choice Is Often Architecture

Let’s start with a quick behavioural science refresher. At its core, nudge theory (Thaler & Sunstein, 2008) is based on the idea of libertarian paternalism: gently steering people toward better decisions without removing their freedom to choose. Nudges work best when they take advantage of how humans actually make decisions: quickly, emotionally, and often without deliberate analysis.

This is what Daniel Kahneman famously called System 1 thinking, how we think in a way that is fast, intuitive, subconscious. And it dominates most everyday decisions- around 90-95% of the decisions you make are instinctive. Especially the ones you make while juggling a crying baby and an overflowing shopping basket.

Brands know this. And they build for it.

How the Baby Food Industry Uses the MINDSPACE Framework

Let’s look at one of the most widely used behavioural policy tools: MINDSPACE (Dolan et al., 2010). It outlines nine key levers that influence our behaviour. You’ll find almost all of them at play in baby food marketing so it's a good way to look through the tools in the tool box, especially in leading brands like Ella’s Kitchen.

• Messenger – Trust is built through emotional storytelling and endorsements by nutritionists or founders. Parents are more likely to believe a message if it comes from someone relatable, reassuring or seen as ‘one of us’ (image 4)

• Incentives – Promotions like “5 for £5” use loss aversion. You feel like you’re losing out if you don’t buy in bulk, even if your baby doesn’t need ten meals that come in a in a pouch (image 1)

• Norms – Messaging like “most loved” or “UK’s #1 first food”, our survey says' etc creates social proof. Parents want to do what other good parents are doing. (image 7)

• Defaults – Pouches have become the default weaning product. Many are labelled “from 4 months”, even though NHS guidance advises waiting until 6. The behavioural cue? “This is when everyone starts.” (image 5)

• Salience – Pouches are placed next to nappies and wipes. Eye-catching designs, bright colours, and simplified fruit imagery grab attention.

• Priming – Words like “organic,” “gentle,” and “made with love” prime feelings of safety and care. These cues bypass nutritional scrutiny. (Image 2)

• Affect – Emotional brand stories make parents feel good. That feeling often outweighs rational assessments of sugar or salt content. (image 6)

• Commitment – Once you’re in the Ella’s Kitchen “weaning journey,” with subscription emails and milestone updates, it becomes harder to switch. You’re invested. (image 3)

• Ego – Using the ‘right’ brand allows parents to feel proud, competent — even virtuous. That pride becomes part of identity. (image 1)

All of these mechanisms are used in behavioural policy to encourage things like saving more for retirement or attending medical appointments or adhering to tax regulation.

In baby food? They’re being used to increase purchase frequency, deepen emotional loyalty, and drive convenience-based dependency.

From Nudge to 'Mudge'

In theory, nudges should help people make better choices by their own standards. But when behavioural science is used to make you feel worse about choosing something else — like home cooking — we’ve moved into murky territory.

Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein themselves warned that nudging only works ethically when people can easily opt out. When it’s hard to see the alternatives, or when guilt, social pressure or identity are used to anchor you to a choice - it’s no longer a nudge.

In 2021, Sunstein coined the term sludge — friction that prevents good choices.

But what we see in baby food marketing isn’t friction. It’s frictionless persuasion that looks like care, but serves commercial interests.

Perhaps we need a new term - a MUDGE, a muddy and murky twin of a nudge - where nudging becomes ethically blurred. Not overtly coercive. Not technically deceptive. But still not in the public interest.

The Cost of Mudge

The real impact of these tactics isn’t just what ends up in our shopping baskets. It’s what gets taken out of our minds. Confidence. Self-trust. The belief that we can cook for our baby, that we do know how to nourish them, even imperfectly.

When commercial behavioural design becomes our default parenting compass, we start to question ourselves. We outsource the hard bits to companies who say they’re “on our side”, without seeing how the entire landscape has been engineered for their gain.

So, How Did We Get Here?

We got here because behavioural science works.

Because when you’re tired, anxious, and overloaded with information, the simple, colourful pouch that says we got you feels like the safest option, even if, nutritionally, it’s not.

We got here because the baby food industry filled a policy vacuum with a behavioural blueprint designed to sell, not serve.

And we got here because, in the absence of stronger regulation, the public good was quietly overtaken by private design.

Where Do We Go Now?

Behavioural insights are powerful tools. But without ethical guardrails, especially when marketing to vulnerable audiences like new parents, they can undermine autonomy and public health. Hooking kids as young as 4 months old into UPF's and nutritionally lacking easily consumed convenience foods that bring nothing to culture, love and meaning of foods. That is before we get to the health issues, development and everything else that comes with eating 'real' food.

It’s time we recognised that.

It’s time policymakers stepped in with better labelling standards, regulated age messaging, and clearer nutritional benchmarks.

And it’s time brands stopped calling it “helping parents” when what they really mean is helping their market share.

We deserve better than to be 'mudged', and our kids deserve parents who ask questions for them when they can't.