Doctor Knows Best? Think Again

Why the people we trust most about our health may not know enough about food.

There’s a deep cultural belief that if you want trustworthy health advice, you go to a doctor. Not just for prescriptions or procedures—but for everything. Diet, exercise, supplements, weight loss, prevention. Whatever the issue, we assume the white coat means expertise.

But when it comes to food and nutrition—the foundation of long-term health—that trust may be misplaced.

Despite mounting evidence linking diet to chronic disease, most physicians receive surprisingly little training in how to help patients eat better, prevent illness, or manage conditions through food. And yet, they're still the primary gatekeepers for nutrition advice in the healthcare system.

In fact, doctors are often the only professionals legally allowed to provide that advice. A patient newly diagnosed with diabetes can be counseled by a physician who has had just a few hours of nutrition lectures. But a PhD in nutrition science, who may have spent years studying metabolism, food systems, and dietary patterns, can’t offer the same guidance unless they also hold a registered dietitian credential. In most states, that’s the law [1].

This isn’t just a credentialing quirk. It’s a systemic blind spot—one that elevates authority over expertise and leaves patients vulnerable to vague or outdated advice.

How Much Do Doctors Learn About Nutrition?

Not nearly enough.

A recent report in JAMA found that most U.S. medical schools provide just 11 to 20 hours of required nutrition instruction over four years [2]. That’s less than 1% of the total curriculum—and it has remained that way for decades, despite repeated calls for reform.

Back in 1985, a national panel recommended at least 25 hours of nutrition education in medical school. Four decades later, most programs still fall short [2].

Even when nutrition is covered, it’s often limited to metabolic pathways and biochemistry—material students memorize for exams but rarely use in practice. Practical skills like grocery planning, cultural food considerations, or helping a patient improve their diet on a budget? Almost never taught.

As one professor put it, “Students can recite the Krebs cycle, but can’t explain how to build a healthy plate” [2].

Built to Treat, Not Prevent

We often trust doctors not only to treat illness but to help us avoid it in the first place. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: modern medical training isn’t designed for prevention.

What we call allopathic medicine—the dominant model of conventional Western care—is built around diagnosing and treating disease, typically through pharmaceuticals, surgery, or other interventions. It excels in acute care: emergencies, trauma, infections, and lifesaving procedures. But when it comes to chronic conditions driven by long-term lifestyle factors—like diet, stress, and inactivity—the model shows its limits.

In fact, most U.S. medical education devotes little attention to prevention. The focus remains on disease management: what to prescribe, what to monitor, what to remove or repair. Nutrition, exercise, and behavioral change? Often an afterthought—or reduced to a few bullet points in a pharmacology lecture.

So while we assume doctors are our first line of defense in staying healthy, the truth is, most are trained to respond to illness—after it arrives.

Why It Matters

We’re not just talking about a gap in education—we’re talking about a gap that costs lives.

According to the CDC, poor diet is the leading modifiable risk factor for death in the U.S., contributing to more than 500,000 deaths every year [2]. That’s more than smoking, alcohol, or drug use. And yet, most doctors graduate with little practical training in how to help patients change their diets or navigate food environments.

Imagine being asked to treat heart disease without knowing which foods contribute to high cholesterol, or to manage diabetes without understanding how everyday meals affect blood sugar. That’s essentially what we’re doing with food. And the results speak for themselves.

Why It Still Hasn’t Changed — and What Must

Despite decades of awareness, little has shifted—and here’s why.

There’s no single villain. The medical curriculum is already overstuffed. Licensing exams barely test for nutrition. Most schools don’t have faculty trained in it. And because nutrition isn’t treated as a core clinical skill—like prescribing meds or reading lab results—it gets pushed to the margins [1, 2].

Even well-meaning doctors who want to learn more often have to seek that training on their own time, outside the formal education system.

Some schools are trying. A few now require online nutrition modules or offer electives in culinary medicine. But as of 2025, only nine U.S. medical schools require any kind of standardized nutrition course [2].

Nine. Out of over 150.

But this isn’t unsolvable. In fact, we already know what needs to change:

• Make nutrition training a required part of medical licensure. If doctors need to prove they can interpret an EKG, they should also show they understand the basics of food and chronic disease.
• Let true nutrition experts do their job. PhDs in nutrition and dietitians should be integrated into care teams—not sidelined by outdated credentialing laws.
• Train more faculty and offer real-world courses. Students should learn how to talk to patients about food, not just memorize metabolic cycles.
• Pay for prevention. When hospitals and insurers reward better long-term outcomes, nutrition will finally get the attention it deserves.

Rebuilding Trust the Right Way

We all want to believe that the person in the white coat has all the answers. But the truth is, we’ve built a culture that treats doctors as infallible—even in areas where they lack training. That kind of blind trust doesn’t just create bad advice—it creates silence around better-informed voices.

Real trust doesn’t come from authority alone. It comes from knowing your limits and working with others who can fill the gaps. When it comes to nutrition, those gaps are deep—and the consequences are real.

Until we build a healthcare system where nutrition is treated as essential, patients will continue to get vague or outdated advice about food. And too often, that will mean missed chances to prevent disease—or even save lives.

When it comes to nutrition, the cost of misplaced trust isn't theoretical—it's measured in lives lost, years diminished, and opportunities missed.

References

[1] Devries S, Leib E B. Nutrition education in medical training: It’s always been a matter of trust. American Journal of Clinical Nutrition. 2024;120(3):465-467.
https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ajcnut.2024.06.023 pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov

[2] Harris E. Nutrition’s Slow Integration Into Physician Training Presents “Missed Opportunities.” JAMA.2025;333(21):1852-1854. https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jama/fullarticle/2833657