The Plant-Based Marketing Trap: Why 'Natural' Doesn't Always Mean Safe

Nothing has made me appreciate the sheer scale and power of targeted advertising like having children. Months before my kids were born, every ad seemed designed to sell me baby products. And on seemingly every product were the same two words in bold letters: plant-based.

I'm not kidding. Diapers, baby wipes, teething rings, bath toys — it's all plant-based these days. Once I noticed it on baby products, I started seeing it everywhere: foods, cosmetics, cleaning products, toothbrushes, sneakers, phone cases, yoga mats. Even the packaging wrapping it all up claims to be plant-based.

The Promise vs. Reality

It wasn't immediately clear what plants did to deserve this spotlight. I knew plant-based foods tend to be better for people and the environment. But was the same true for plant-based plastics, fabrics, and chemicals?

As a dad trying to protect my kids, I hoped for the best. I bought plant-based diapers, wipes, and toys. Their labels featured words like "eco" and "food-grade" alongside "plant-based" — signaling two big things to me as a consumer: safe and sustainable.

After all, most plastics come from fossil fuels, and microplastics are showing up in our water supply and bodies. Plant-based had to be better, right?

Turns out, that assumption was dangerously naive.

The Unregulated Rise of Plant-Based Everything

You can trace "plant-based" back to the early 1980s, when nutritional biochemist Thomas Colin Campbell coined the term while presenting to the National Institutes of Health. He thought calling a diet "vegetarian" would be polarizing, so he chose "plant-based for lack of a better word."

The term really took off after his 2005 book The China Study became a bestseller, linking plant-based diets to lower cancer rates. A couple years later, Michael Pollan gave us his famous mantra: "Eat food, not too much, mostly plants."

Plant-based products invaded grocery stores in the 2010s. While "vegetarian" or "vegan" might turn some consumers away, "plant-based" offered the perfect mix of natural and approachable. Who doesn't like plants?

Between 2018 and 2022, plant-based packaged goods increased by 302 percent. Several factors converged: the federal government's push for biobased products through the expanded Farm Bill, the bioplastic industry's newfound ability to scale production, and brands betting big on plant-based branding.

LEGO released its first plant-based pieces made from sugarcane-based polyethylene in 2018. In 2020, Pampers brought the trend mainstream with its Pure diapers featuring plant-based liners.

But here's the problem: "plant-based" has no agreed-upon definition and isn't regulated in any way. Unlike "certified organic" or "Fair Trade Certified," which require meeting strict USDA or Fair Trade USA standards, nothing stops companies from slapping "plant-based" on packaging.

"I wonder if 'plant-based' is a new 'natural,'" Josée Johnston, a sociology professor at the University of Toronto, told me. "Nobody takes 'natural' seriously anymore."

The Hidden Dangers in Plant-Based Products

Plant-based items appeal to consumers not just because we think they're good, but because they represent the absence of bad. The label makes you believe that because something isn't made of conventional plastic, it must be free of microplastics and won't take centuries to decompose.

But just as "natural" products aren't necessarily free of artificial ingredients, plant-based products contain plenty of non-plant substances — some quite dangerous. They can include PFAS ("forever chemicals" that accumulate in the body and are linked to cancer and weakened immune systems) and VOCs (volatile organic compounds that cause respiratory problems short-term and cancer long-term).

Plant-based plastic sounds biodegradable, but the most popular bioplastic, PLA (polylactic acid), requires specific industrial composting conditions to break down efficiently. Dump a PLA bottle in your garden, and it could take centuries to decompose — just like petroleum-based plastic.

Shifting to plant-based materials can have positive effects when managed properly. But they come with climate consequences too. Growing plants requires less land than livestock, but still takes up significant space. If bioplastics aren't composted correctly, they act like petroleum-based plastic in landfills, producing methane while failing to break down.

How to Navigate Plant-Based Marketing

Norah MacKendrick, a sociologist at Rutgers, calls this "cautious consumerism" — and says it's not necessarily bad. "Americans know that ingredients in products from baby food to diapers haven't been carefully vetted for health impacts — not by government or companies themselves."

People sense that our consumption patterns aren't sustainable, Johnston explains. "They're more aware of plastics in the environment and water, so they're drawn to products offering a way out, a way to manage that dissonance."

It's frustrating that the plant-based label is functionally useless. The burden falls on shoppers — often women — to research which products actually deliver on their implied promises.

For food, the evidence is clear: plant-based diets can reduce diet-related land use by 76 percent and greenhouse gas emissions by nearly 50 percent. They also cut heart disease risk by 25 percent.

Things get trickier with other plant-based products. Plant-based plastics made from corn or sugarcane generally have smaller carbon footprints and better biodegradability. But growing that corn requires land and water resources. Plus, PLAs need industrial composting processes — bury a "compostable" plastic fork in your backyard, and it might decompose as slowly as petroleum-based plastic.

Similar patterns emerge with plant-based textiles, beauty products, and cleaners. They're probably better than conventional counterparts, but with caveats. Some "vegan leather" is just petroleum-based plastic rebranded — what The New York Times called "a marketing masterstroke meant to suggest environmental virtue."

Finding Actually Safer Products

If you're cautious about how products affect the planet, you, or your family, dig deeper. Seek companies that not only claim to use good ingredients but also explicitly avoid harmful ones. Look for independent certifications like OEKO-TEX Standard for textiles or government programs like EPA's Safer Choice.

Remember: "plant-based" alone isn't regulated, so it's not a reliable guide.

I'll confess — I bought plant-based diapers from Dyper, billed as non-toxic, chlorine-free, charcoal-enhanced, and theoretically compostable. They cost more than double regular diapers (roughly a dollar versus 50 cents each), were stiff as boards, and leaked constantly. To compost dirty diapers, I'd need to bag them and call for industrial composting pickup.

It shows how much work cautious consuming requires. That doesn't mean you shouldn't do it — just that "plant-based" should catch your attention, not end your research.