Sitting next to someone who nags, “That’s over-processed” or “Do you really need that?” is worse for your health than eating curly fries with cheese.

As we are urged to monitor our intake of sodium and saturated fats when it comes to our own diets, we should probably also monitor our output of criticism and disparagement when it comes to the diets of others.

I’m not arguing that poutine should be classified as part of a heart-healthy diet; I am convinced that the French-Canadian signature dish (fries covered in rich brown gravy with cheese curds sprinkled throughout) can, with joy, be a more wholesome experience than eating amaranth and yogurt with a grudge and a spiteful attitude.

Research across the sciences has proven what instinct has always known: eating and emotions are inextricably linked. Many of these studies, understandably, focus on disordered eating.

If someone with severely disordered eating is close to you, they must get help. But if you disapprove of someone else’s pattern of eating because you judge them as being self-indulgent or overweight, do you feel a need to tell them how you feel? Are you sure you’re helping them live better?

An in-depth 2023 article titled “The Association of Emotional Eating with Overweight/Obesity, Depression, Anxiety/Stress, and Dietary Patterns: A Review of the Current Clinical Evidence” published in “Nutrients” argues that “Eating caused by positive emotions was not related with negative outcomes,” in all cases, according to data, and “Additionally, all types of emotional eating were not associated with worse self-reported physical health.”

If you’ve never had ranch dressing, a Cornish beef pasty, or fried chicken on a waffle, do you want to shout—or worse, whisper loudly—”Do you have any idea how many calories you’re consuming?” because you feel a nearly overwhelming urge to point out the desperate danger of these items?

That urge doesn’t sound too healthy to me; you might want to get it examined.

I asked readers for their thoughts on being told what they should and should not eat. I asked specifically for their experiences concerning folks commenting on their meals when they weren’t asking for any advice.

Most responses indicated that being ritually nagged, shamed, or controlled during meals likely corrodes a person’s immune system, even as it undermines their sense of independence, self-esteem, and grasp on autonomy.

“My ex-husband was a runner. He could eat anything and not gain weight,” explained Laura S. Nicholas-Schwab. “His constant badgering about food created a culture of cortisol for my nervous system. I lost weight following my divorce.”

Lisa D Saunders disentangled the food-bullying intervention from the context of weight gain or loss by declaring, simply, that “It’s the height of rudeness to comment on what someone is eating.” She goes on to give a delightful example: “Just last night I ordered a veggie burger with bacon. To my great pleasure, the server did not even raise an eyebrow. It was delicious.”

Susan Doust Young was put in the position of needing to defend her legal use of aspartame when “A nosy nerd berated our choice of Diet Coke at the checkout line, and I ignored him. What I should have said, however, was ‘I’m 78 years old. Mind your own damn business!’”

Eating is attached to emotion, and food is attached to territoriality. The implication of Kim Robinson’s response to my question about the implications of food-shaming was heartfelt: “It’s actually dangerous for their health” (don’t mess around with Kim), and her remark was echoed by Amy Hartl Sherman’s bark: “Anyone who questions my food choices out loud risks getting bit.”

If the shibboleth invoked to encourage the consumption of healthy foods is “You are what you eat,” there should be a caveat attached reminding us that few people choose to identify as rhubarb, kohlrabi, or yam.

Some of us still smile when called “Cookie” or “Sugar Pie,” which we recall as words of endearment from our childhoods, as long as they’re not said by a stranger, a boss, a warden, or worse, a politician. Somebody who calls me a “yam” better watch out, because I’m calling my friends Kim and Amy for backup.

Serve any dish you want, but leave out the big helpings of guilt, judgement, and nagging. Nobody wants those boxed up to bring home.