Eating less beef is a climate solution. Here's why that's hard for some American men

Climate change is affecting our food, and our food is affecting the climate. NPR is dedicating a week to stories and conversations about the search for solutions.

In 2006, when Malcolm Regisford was 10 years old, a Burger King commercial began playing on TVs across the country.

In it, a man in a restaurant looks at a small vegetarian dish, turns to face the camera, and bursts into song: “I am man, hear me roar!” The man flees the restaurant, denounces quiches and tofu — “chick food,” he sings — and quickly joins a throng of other singing men. They march through the streets with signs reading “I am man” and hamburgers held high. “The Texas double Whopper. Eat like a man, man,” a voice says.

Regisford saw this commercial often in between his cartoons. “Beef is marketed to men — steaks and hefty burgers — like, ‘that's what a man's supposed to eat,’” he says. Regisford continued to hear these messages when he became a Division 1 basketball player in college. “It’s thought that animal products yield a certain sense of strength,” he says. “Some form of masculinity.”

Men and boys see messages all the time that say eating beef is a thing men do, and statistics bear this out, says Diego Rose, nutrition program director at Tulane University. “Whenever we've looked at the question of gender, we've seen that,” Rose says. “Men eat greater amounts of beef than women.”

Now Rose and other researchers think this fact — that men eat more beef — could be important to a key climate solution puzzle.

Beef has a bigger overall planet-heating impact than any other food, scientists say. Demand for beef drives deforestation in places like the Amazon rainforest. Cattle release powerful greenhouse gas emissions that heat the planet. “If you want to reduce emissions, it's all about the beef,” says Tim Searchinger, senior research scholar at Princeton University and technical director of the agriculture and forestry program at the World Resources Institute.

Getting people to eat less beef could quickly make a large dent in climate pollution. Rose’s research finds that subbing poultry for beef in a meal can cut a person’s daily dietary carbon footprint by about half. Food and climate researchers have long grappled with how to get people to shift diets toward less beef. And now they are thinking about the problem through the lens of gender. But there are challenges to shifting diets toward less beef, from misinformation about soy and protein, to powerful societal pressures and messaging for men to eat beef.

"Messaging to men about beef absolutely matters," says Jan Dutkiewicz, professor of political science at the Pratt Institute. "If there's a large portion of men out there who are being programmed to not just eat more meat, but to be completely resistant to any messages about meat reduction," he says, "that's a real problem.”

The idea that men should eat beef has a long history

When Regisford was playing Division 1 basketball at Colgate University, he injured his ankle. During his recovery, inspired by a family friend and mentor, he decided to cut meat from his diet for his health. Some men reduce meat consumption for health, climate or concerns for animal welfare, Rose says.

Regisford’s basketball teammates and coaching staff were skeptical. “I changed my diet halfway through my senior season, when I need to be at peak performance and in the best shape,” Regisford says.

His teammates asked him: Could he still get enough protein without meat? Could he still maintain his strength and athleticism?

The idea that men need meat for strength has a long history, says Joshua Specht, history professor at the University of Notre Dame. It’s rooted in beliefs about ancient human ancestors, he says: “Men being associated with actually doing the hunting, that connects us to our meat and meat consumption in a kind of primal way.”

While eating red meat is seen as primordial, modern Americans eat significantly more beef than ever before. The growth of railroads and refrigeration after the Civil War meant it was only in the late 1800s and early 1900s that beef went from a "special occasion food" to an "all the time food" for everyday consumers, Specht says.

The United States is a leading consumer of beef with only Argentina and Zimbabwe consuming more per capita. That’s according to 2022 data, the latest available, from the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. Americans account for about 83 pounds of beef per year, per person. And while that number is lower than in recent decades, it’s still four times more beef than the global average.

Not all Americans eat beef equally, data shows. Last year, Rose and his colleagues published a study looking at U.S. government data of the diets of more than 10,000 Americans. They found that on a given day, 12% of Americans account for half of all beef consumption. That 12% was disproportionately men.

The beef and dairy industries have lots of impacts, including on animal welfare, worker safety, water consumption and pollution.

A spokesperson for the National Cattlemen’s Beef Association, an industry lobby group, wrote in an email that they “will continue to share research and data around the benefits of beef in general, as research continues to show the important role high-quality protein, like beef, plays in a balanced diet.”

“As we work together to build a healthier, more sustainable food supply … our focus should be on changes that are science-based, practical and highly impactful," the spokesperson wrote.

Because of climate pollution from cattle, eating lots of beef has a notable impact on a person’s planet-heating emissions, says Amelia Willits-Smith, a food and sustainability researcher who worked with Rose on food and climate studies. She notes that while some American women also eat high amounts of beef, her research with Rose found that demographically, the No. 1 predictor of high-emission diets is “being male” and “there’s nothing that comes close.”

That’s why when encouraging more climate-friendly diets, paying attention to men makes sense, says Anna Grummon, assistant professor at the School of Medicine at Stanford University. “Because men eat more beef,” Grummon says, “it means you're going to, as a society, get more bang for your buck from the men changing their behavior.”

But there are challenges for shifting diets toward less beef, from misinformation about soy and protein, to social stigmas connecting beef-eating with manliness. “Many men do reduce their meat consumption or are willing to,” says Joel Ginn, food and psychology researcher at Boston College, “but there are hurdles that they've had to overcome.”

The rise of the "meatfluencer"

For as long as Americans have been eating mass-produced beef, the industry has been using ideas of masculinity to sell it to men. In the mid- to late-1800s, canned beef companies sold it with images of soldiers, miners and cowboys — long a symbol of American men’s ties to beef. “They would depict visions of men who were out there in the world,” Specht says, “making their own destiny.”

Today, new generations of men learn about beef through the rise of “meatfluencers.” These online personalities and celebrities often push the idea that men should eat lots of red meat — sometimes mostly red meat — to live up to their potential. Some of them also sell meat and beef products, including supplements made from beef.

Some meatfluencers promote something called the carnivore diet. That typically involves eating mostly red meat, poultry, pork, seafood, dairy and eggs. The so-called lion diet involves eating mostly beef, lamb, deer, and other red meats.

Joe Rogan, a podcaster with 14.5 million followers and an audience that’s 81% male, said on his show last year that he has followed a carnivore diet. “The best I ever felt, like literally the best I ever felt all throughout the day was on the carnivore diet,” Rogan said on his podcast.

Some meat promoters make health claims about beef and red meat. “It’s difficult to heal and repair your body without animal protein, especially red meat,” says Eric Berg, a chiropractor, who notes on his website that he is not a medical doctor and is not providing medical diagnosis or treatment.

Berg has more than 12 million subscribers on YouTube.

Frank Hu, chair of the Department of Nutrition at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, says there’s little evidence for that claim. Berg did not respond to NPR’s request for comment.

Though many meatfluencers promote supposed health benefits of red meat-heavy diets, diets high in red meat consumption and low in whole grains and vegetables are associated with increased risk of Type 2 diabetes, Hu says.

When promoting meat, some meatfluencers have spread false and misleading ideas about eating plants, particularly soy, including the idea that soy can feminize men. Rogan described this view on his podcast, saying: “Soy is one of the rare foods that’s actually attached to being a bitch.”

Hu says in general: “There is a tremendous amount of misinformation about soy."

Soy — as well as some other plants, seeds and fruits — contains an estrogen-like substance called phytoestrogen. All people — including men — make varying levels of estrogen. But, Hu says, “the effects of phytoestrogen are much, much weaker than the estrogen hormone in human bodies.”

In part because of misinformation, some men are leery of consuming soy, Ginn says. “Soy boy” has become a popular slur online to denote weak men.

Media and meatfluencers are “reinforcing a message,” says Emily Contois, a professor of media studies at the University of Tulsa. “There's a doubling down that men need meat.”

This cultural messaging can pose a problem for climate policy, she says, making it harder to make suggestions to reduce beef consumption. As for Regisford, he now sees some of this resistance from men toward changing their diets firsthand.

Regisford has now become a plant-based chef with a large social media following. Plant-based often refers to people who primarily don’t eat meat or dairy. Regisford now has about 390,000 followers on Instagram and a plant-based cookbook. According to his Instagram analytics, his audience is 80% women.

While Regisford knows many men who are receptive to reducing their meat consumption, including his father and brothers, he says he also encounters men who are “closed minded” about it. These men often bring up false ideas about soy or the notion that a person can’t feel full without meat in a meal. But Regisford says the greatest misinformation he encounters centers on one thing: “No. 1 thing,” he says, “the protein thing.”

Is protein from meat better for you?

When Jalen Hood-Schifino, point guard for the Los Angeles Lakers, cut back on meat in high school, he had many motivations, including his health, ethics and animal welfare. “I don't think we should be killing animals and eating it,” Hood-Schifino says.

But when Hood-Schifino told male friends about his new diet, he started getting lots of questions about his protein levels. “Growing up, they always tell you, ‘You're supposed to eat meat. It’s how you get protein,’” Hood-Schifino says. “Protein, protein, protein. Which I feel like is a big misconception.”

Animal and plant sources often have variations in the relative amounts of the different building blocks of protein, says Dariush Mozaffarian, professor at the Friedman School of Nutrition Science and Policy at Tufts University. But he says the human body can get adequate protein from plants or animals, and plant and meat proteins work fairly similarly for building muscle.

“It is a common myth that you don't get enough protein without eating meat,” Hu says. “Many plant-based foods are rich in protein and they can be combined to meet your nutrition needs — even for athletes who typically need to eat more protein and also for elderly who may want to have relatively high protein intake to maintain muscle mass.”

NBA player Hood-Schifino says he gets protein mostly from different types of beans and high protein vegetables, like spinach. Vegan bodybuilders highlight their protein-rich diets full of nuts, seeds, tofu and tempeh.

Hu notes that for some people, including those with heavy menstrual periods, eating little or no meat may mean they need to take iron supplements. Others who are reducing meat, particularly older people, may want to talk to their doctor about taking a vitamin B12 supplement. For most people, though, a healthy and balanced plant-based diet can provide enough iron, nutrients and protein for dietary needs, Hu says.

While plant protein sources are numerous — and, like beans, often inexpensive — the idea that a meal should have meat is widespread in the United States. In 2020, a nationally representative survey found 81% of Americans prefer a meal with animal products such as beef, chicken, fish or dairy.

For Impossible Foods, a plant-based food company, part of broadening its consumer base involves more marketing that meat isn’t the only way to get protein. “It's our job to set the record straight,” says Peter McGuinness, chief executive of Impossible Foods. “Soy is an awesome protein source.”

But there are bigger messaging problems, he says, and it’s why the company has launched a rebrand.

Changing the messaging to inclusion

Earlier this year, Impossible Foods debuted a new commercial. Like the Burger King "I am Man" commercial that Regisford saw as a kid, the ad starts with a man looking straight at the camera.

He’s tall and muscular, with broad shoulders. “Like a dad from a 1970s barbecue,” says Gabriel Rosenberg, professor of gender studies at Duke University. “He's got this great mustache.”

“Listen up, America,” the man in the ad says. “Meat has problems. And it’s gonna take us — meat-eaters — to solve them.”

The man slaps away a beef burger, swipes away meatballs, and hands out plant-based meat alternatives. He gets on a motorcycle, puts on a helmet, vrooms the engine, and bursts through a wall, driving off into the horizon.

“He's this older figure of masculinity. He's teaching you how to be a man. And then he's explosively virile,” Rosenberg says. “It's basically saying: ‘Men, you have permission to eat our product and still be manly.’”

When McGuinness joined the company as its chief executive a few years ago, he found the customers “skew slightly female.” He wants it to be more “inclusive," which fundamentally means trying to attract more meat-eaters to the brand, he says, as opposed to just vegans and vegetarians.

McGuinness says there’s a reason the new ad didn’t mention climate change or animal rights. “You don't lead with that. You don't hide it, but that's not your lead marketing horse,” he says.

Reducing beef consumption has become a “culture war” issue. This summer, Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump has falsely claimed that Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris wants to “outlaw red meat.” In a 2019 CNN town hall, Harris says that while she loves “cheeseburgers from time to time,” she wants the government to educate people on environmental impacts and encourage moderation.

McGuinness says the company is trying to stay nonpolitical. The company recently changed the color of its food packaging from green, often associated with environmentalists, to bright red. “All those meat cues,” McGuinness says. “We don't want anything partisan, political, weird.”

McGuinness says he wants meat-eaters to feel like they can eat as much as they want — make it plant-based meat. “We want to solve the meat problem with more meat,” he says.

McGuinness says Impossible burgers were designed to look and taste like beef burgers to ease the transition for meat-eaters. “I had a long week and I'm trying to have a burger and a beer on a Friday night. Now you're asking me to have a different burger and I don’t want to compromise my food,” he says. “You know, don't mess with my effing burger.”

Frequent consumption of highly processed plant-based meats, if not part of a balanced diet, can also be unhealthy, says Becky Ramsing, senior program officer at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health.

And the ad isn’t challenging conventional ideas of gender, Rosenberg says: “We’re going to eat like men. We’re going to stuff ourselves.”

Still, given beef’s impacts on climate pollution, media and psychology researchers tell NPR that ads like these matter, because they can help broaden social acceptance for plant-based foods.

Changing social norms, including through NBA players

When Regisford was growing up and starting to play basketball, he didn’t know of any NBA players who were vegan or vegetarian.

Now Hood-Schifino, 21, can list several fellow NBA players who are vegan or plant-based. That includes his Lakers teammate, forward Jarred Vanderbilt. And his mentor, NBA star point guard currently on the San Antonio Spurs, Chris Paul.

Paul, nicknamed “The Point God,” has been plant-based since 2019. His basketball camp in North Carolina provided vegan options for young players, including Hood-Schifino, who attended his camp as a teenager.

“He would have two sides: He would have regular food, then he would have his vegan chef cook the vegan meal,” Hood-Schifino says. “During that time in high school, I was still obviously kind of dibbling-dabbling, but I would always go to the vegan side to try that food.”

While Hood-Schifino’s shift away from eating animals was largely self-directed, he also credits Paul, who joined the NBA in 2005. “I would ask him questions about the vegan diet and he would always talk about how that helped his longevity in the NBA and how much energized he feels,” Hood-Schifino says. “It's definitely dope to see that.”

For some men wanting to reduce meat intake, social pressures can be an obstacle. Seeing someone in your close personal circle, or celebrities like athletes, make a behavior change can be an important piece of the puzzle, says Daniel Rosenfeld, psychology and food researcher at UCLA. “The way to get some people to eat less meat is to get other people to eat less meat,” he says.

Rosenfeld says when he became a vegan in college, he got teased. “I had some male friends of mine make jokes about being vegan as a guy, that this was presumably a negative thing,” he says. “‘You're not gonna get any muscle, you're gonna become small and weak.’”

Hood-Schifino says when he became plant-based, he didn’t hear comments about weakness: “I never really heard ‘weak’ because, in a humble way, but if you ask anyone that I'm playing against, a lot of people are going to say when it comes to the basketball court, I'm one of the strongest players that you're going to come across.”

Hood-Schifino says he hopes to be a role model to other young men someday, “to see that you can live a really good plant-based life, a healthy life, and feel the best.”

Lessons for “plant-based skeptics”

On a recent afternoon in Canoga Park, Calif., Regisford takes a pan, sizzling with oil, and adds soft, white lion’s mane mushrooms. He adds some salt and pepper, and then rosemary and vegan butter.

In his cookbook, he calls this his vegan “steak.” Regisford says for “plant-based skeptics,” it helps that the brown charred mushrooms look like beef. “We eat with our eyes first, so if we can get that look nailed down, then it helps everybody around,” he says.

Regisford says he understands that connections to foods like beef are deep and emotional, and that it can be hard to let go. When he became a plant-based chef, he made sure to capture flavors from the Southern U.S. and Trinidad and Tobago, where his parents are from. His lasagna recipe doesn’t have beef or cheese from cows, but it does have plantain.

Changing consumer messaging around plant-based foods is important, as is reducing social stigmas, but food researchers say it also comes down to accessibility, and making sure that these food options are affordable, easy to make and delicious.

Regisford says when he talks to his male social media followers about plant-based cooking and reducing meats like beef, he encourages them to let go of preconceived notions about what that means for their identity.

“All this other stuff that you think is attached to eating a certain way,” he tells them, “it's not as important as you may think.”