They say they want to support local farmers and processors, keep dollars at home and protect jobs.

However, when standing in front of the grocery shelf, good intentions often give way to convenience and price.

That contradiction, however, seems to be fading, and geopolitics has a lot to do with it.

According to the latest NIQ (formerly NielsenIQ) retail data, sales of “Made in Canada” food products are up more than 10 per cent year-over-year as of September 2025, while U.S.-made products are down nearly nine per cent.

This trend has persisted for more than six months. In the world of consumer data, that’s not a blip — it’s a shift. Canadians aren’t just saying they want to buy Canadian; they’re actually doing it.

Turn on the television any night and there’s one recurring face: Donald Trump. Canadians, whether they follow U.S. politics closely or not, are constantly reminded of his message of America First.

And consciously or not, they’re responding. Every fiery clip about tariffs, immigration or foreign competition reinforces the sense that Canada needs to rely on itself.

Buying Canadian food has become a quiet, patriotic act and a statement of self-reliance in an uncertain world.

When cross-border relations feel tense, the grocery store becomes a symbolic space of control. Each jar of Canadian jam, each bag of local flour, feels like a vote for stability and identity.

The “Buy Canadian” idea isn’t new, but for years, it mainly lived in our rhetoric.

The North American market blurred origins, and few shoppers bothered to read the fine print.

Since early 2025, however, both “Made in Canada” and “Product of Canada” categories, which differ in how much of the ingredients and processing are domestic, have shown consistent growth, while U.S. imports have posted negative sales for seven straight months.

This new grocery patriotism, however, also raises a difficult question: at what cost?

When consumers focus narrowly on national origin, market competition can narrow, too. If buying Canadian becomes more about sentiment than value, we risk paying more, sometimes for products that aren’t necessarily better or more sustainable.

It’s worth asking whether this wave of food nationalism, however well-intentioned, has contributed to higher prices. The more insulated our food market becomes, the greater the risk of inefficiency and complacency.

Canada’s agri-food sector is remarkably diverse and resilient, but we can’t grow or process everything efficiently. Pretending otherwise is economically naive.

Self-reliance must not become self-restriction. If this patriotic shift is to benefit Canadians, it needs to be guided by our comparative advantages rather than emotional reflexes.

Our grain, seafood, livestock and pulse sectors are world-class. Our innovation in food safety, traceability and clean processing is globally admired. That’s where national energy should go: doubling down on what we do best rather than trying to replace what others already do well.

Instead of equating “Canadian” with “expensive,” our food economy should aim to make “Canadian” synonymous with quality, efficiency and innovation. That’s the formula that will keep domestic production competitive while allowing consumers real choice at the shelf.

This is not a call to abandon local pride. In fact, it is far from it. A strong domestic food base is vital for resilience.

However, the challenge for Canada is to balance patriotic consumption with global pragmatism. We should buy Canadian when it makes sense, trade when it benefits us and stay open to the world.

Sylvain Charlebois is senior director of the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie University. This article first appeared on the TroyMedia website. It was edited for length.

Yet in an era of climate urgency and resource constraints, it is being framed as the next frontier in food innovation. A new wave of philanthropists and investors is betting on disruptive technologies to reimagine how we eat.

One such player is Savor, a Chicago-based company partly backed by Bill Gates, who has become a prominent supporter of climate-focused food startups.

The firm says it has created a product indistinguishable from traditional butter.

Unlike margarine, which is made from plant oils such as soybean or canola, this butter contains no animals or crops.

Its fat molecules are built in a lab from carbon dioxide captured from the air and hydrogen drawn from water, processed through heating and oxidation. The result mimics the molecular structure of fats found in beef, cheese or vegetable oils, without a single acre of farmland.

Savor claims its butter would have a far smaller environmental footprint than traditional dairy.

Commercially, the company is targeting a market launch within 12 to 18 months, likely at a premium comparable to organic butter.

On nutrition, however, the company has said little, which leaves a larger question for consumers: will lab-made foods ease the strain of record grocery bills or simply add another pricey product?

Molecular agriculture, sometimes called synthetic or cellular food production, means building food molecule by molecule in a lab instead of growing them on farms.

It has gained traction across categories from meat to seafood to coffee. These products are marketed as climate saviours, but what really drives consumer choices — labelling, price, taste and nutrition — often comes second.

Sometimes the race for novelty veers into the absurd.

In 2023, a U.K. company claimed it could make ice cream from recycled plastic. One has to wonder how far we are prepared to go in the name of saving the planet.

And novelty isn’t the only risk: history shows that even once-celebrated food science can backfire.

Trans fats, for example, were once hailed for improving texture and shelf life, only to be banned after their damage to public health became undeniable.

This points to a deeper cultural and economic tension.

Food is not simply about producing calories with minimal resources. It is also an expression of culture, heritage and pride, rooted in centuries-old traditions.

According to the Food Sentiment Index published by the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie University earlier this year, just nine per cent of consumers cite the environment as their main purchase driver.

Cellular and molecular agriculture has its place, but it must be guided by the right motivations.

Efforts that play God or lean on eco-authoritarian narratives risk alienating the very consumers they hope to attract.

Credible pathways must integrate the cultural, economic and sensory dimensions of eating. In Canada, this connection is especially strong in dairy and agriculture, which remain both economic pillars and cultural touchstones.

The future of food will not be defined by lab breakthroughs alone. Success will hinge on taste, transparency, affordability and respect for tradition.

In the end, not all of us aspire to eat like Greta Thunberg.

Sylvain Charlebois is senior director of the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie University. This article first appeared on the TroyMedia website.

The story of Bick’s is a telling case study in how well-intentioned policies can backfire, punishing consumers and domestic suppliers alike.

Bick’s was acquired by Smucker’s in 2004, and its Ontario production facility was shuttered soon after. Today, the brand is owned by TreeHouse Foods and manufactured in the United States.

While the brand is no longer fully Canadian, parts of its supply chain remain here. The company still sources cucumbers from Canadian growers and lids from Canadian manufacturers. Under the Canada-U.S.-Mexico Agreement, these raw cucumbers can cross into the United States without tariffs.

Yet, once they are processed and jarred in U.S. plants, those same Canadian cucumbers return to Canada as Bick’s pickles — now subject to Canadian counter-tariffs. Other inputs sourced internationally for the U.S. facility may also be tariffed, further pushing up costs.

The economic outcome is predictable. Margins in grocery retail are razor thin, often between two and four per cent. Retailers cannot absorb steep cost increases without passing them along to consumers, and in some cases, they simply drop the product altogether.

Counter-tariffs, often framed as a patriotic defense of domestic producers, can instead reduce competition, shrink consumer choice and push retail prices higher.

The policy flaw is glaring. Canada is effectively taxing products made with Canadian cucumbers and Canadian lids solely because they were processed across the border.

This is not a protection strategy; it is an economic own goal. It illustrates how tariff structures can penalize integrated North American supply chains and undermine the competitiveness of Canadian companies.

Some may argue that TreeHouse should reopen a plant in Canada, but the economics of food processing make little sense for the company to shift production north.

In reality, they may simply abandon the Canadian market altogether — a withdrawal that would further reduce competition and highlight Canada’s weaker position compared to the U.S., a market of nearly 400 million affluent consumers.

The Bick’s case also highlights a broader reality: Canada’s food supply chains are structurally less flexible than those in the U.S.

When faced with tariffs or disruptions, American importers of Canadian goods can pivot quickly to alternative suppliers. Canadian importers, constrained by scale and options, have far less room to manoeuvre. The result is that even tariff-exempt Canadian products can lose shelf space and market share to foreign alternatives.

If Canada wants to avoid repeating this scenario, it needs to rethink its approach.

Tariff policy should account for Canadian content and the realities of integrated cross-border supply chains. A jar of pickles made mostly from Canadian inputs should not be treated as a foreign product simply because final processing occurred in the U.S.

More importantly, Canada must reverse decades of decline in domestic food manufacturing. Without renewed investment in processing capacity, these vulnerabilities will only grow.

The Bick’s episode is not an isolated case; it is an early warning signal. Without a recalibration of trade and tariff policy, more products will quietly disappear from Canadian shelves, replaced by less Canadian alternatives, and consumers will pay more for the privilege.

Ottawa may believe its counter-tariff strategy sends a message to Washington, but the message reaching Canadian households is far different: fewer choices, higher prices and less Canada in the Canadian grocery cart.

Between fall 2024 and spring 2025, the share of Canadians identifying as omnivores—those with no dietary restrictions—dropped from 67.6 per cent to 60.8 per cent.

At first glance, this appears to signal a major dietary shift.

However, the decline is not being absorbed by vegetarians or vegans. In fact, the proportion of self-identified vegetarians fell from 7.7 per cent to 5.9 per cent. Vegans increased only marginally, from 2.6 per cent to three per cent.

While the drop in omnivores may seem significant, the real shift lies in the rise of more flexible eating habits, particularly among those identifying as flexitarians — who prioritize plant-based food but still consume meat and fish — and the “other” category, which now represents 11.4 per cent of consumers (up from 9.1 per cent).

These categories reflect a growing number of Canadians customizing their diets in ways that defy traditional labels, driven by personal preferences, cost, availability and health considerations.

This points to a key insight: the future of protein in Canada is not about ideological purity or wholesale dietary conversions. It’s about diversification and flexibility.

Consumers are shifting based on factors such as cost and cultural context, experimenting with their diets rather than committing to one fixed approach.

The disconnect between consumer preferences and market trends is clearly demonstrated by Beyond Meat, a company that entered the market with the goal of replacing meat altogether.

Five years ago, its stock was trading near US$200. Today, it trades below $3, following multiple rounds of restructuring. The company’s focus on ideological purity misaligned with consumer realities.

The messaging that meatless meat would be a complete replacement for traditional meat products was not what most consumers wanted.

Beyond Meat symbolized the early push toward plant-based eating, but the reality is that many Canadians are not ready to replace meat altogether. Rather, they want alternatives that fit into their broader, more flexible eating habits.

Similarly, government-backed initiatives, such as Aspire Food Group’s cricket-processing facility, have struggled to align with consumer preferences.

Despite the environmental benefits of insect protein, these initiatives have failed to gain traction with Canadian consumers. Once promoted as the world’s largest insect protein facility, Aspire Food Group’s project is now in receivership, facing a $42 million bankruptcy.

Insects may be traditional protein sources in parts of the world, but food choices are deeply cultural, and transitions take time. Imposing unfamiliar protein formats often backfires, especially when framed as moral imperatives rather than consumer-driven options.

So, where does alternative protein innovation go from here? Toward the middle.

The winning formula lies in hybrid, blended products that reduce animal protein content without alienating mainstream eaters.

The real gatekeepers remain price and taste. Sustainability may generate interest, but repeat purchases depend on value and flavour.

Products that find this balance are more likely to succeed than those pushing for radical changes in dietary habits.

The alternative protein sector still holds potential in Canada, but only for those who align with consumer sentiment.

Today’s dietary decisions aren’t about revolution; they’re quiet negotiations, shaped by factors such as taste, cost and convenience — one plate at a time.

Dr. Sylvain Charlebois is senior director of the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie University. This article first appeared on the Troy Media website. It has been edited for length.

His recent threats to impose sweeping tariffs — 25 per cent on Canadian and Mexican agricultural products and 10 per cent on Chinese goods — sent shockwaves through currency markets, sinking the Canadian dollar by a cent within seconds.

These tariffs, framed as leverage to tighten borders and curb immigration and drug trafficking, signal a calculated shift in U.S. economic policy with potentially devastating consequences for Canada’s agri-food sector.

In 2023, Canada exported more than $40 billion in agri-food products to the United States, accounting for nearly 60 per cent of its total agri-food exports. These goods include grain such as wheat and barley, livestock such as beef and pork, and iconic products such as maple syrup and whisky.

Canada’s role as a supplier of high-quality agricultural goods to its largest trading partner is critical to the sector’s survival.

A 25 per cent tariff on these exports would devastate the already-slim profit margins underpinning food production and trade. Even a five per cent tariff could destabilize supply chains, discourage U.S. importers and upend decades of economic integration. With Canadian producers more dependent on the U.S. market than at any time since the early 2000s, the stakes are higher than ever.

Trump is unlikely to enact policies that harm American consumers, and tariffs on Canadian imports would raise grocery prices in the U.S. It’s a political risk he is keen to avoid.

Instead, he is counting on Canada to yield, given its reliance on the U.S. market and strained diplomatic ties with other major economies such as China and India.

For Canada, this is a wake-up call. Ottawa must move beyond short-term fixes such as rebate cheques or GST holidays and address the structural vulnerabilities in its agri-food economy.

Trump is leveraging America’s economic dominance to gain concessions, and Canada must be prepared to adapt.

Adding to the pressure is Canada’s carbon tax, which has further weakened the competitiveness of its agri-food sector. A peer-reviewed study from Dalhousie University highlights how this policy has placed Canadian producers at a disadvantage compared to their U.S. counterparts.

With the U.S. likely to step away from the Paris Agreement, American producers face fewer regulatory costs, allowing them to compete more effectively.

Combined with a weaker Canadian dollar, this creates strong incentives for U.S. importers and retailers to favour domestic products over Canadian ones, further squeezing Canadian producers.

If Canada continues prioritizing retail politics over meaningful economic strategy, the fallout will be felt by every household at the grocery store.

Trump’s tariff threats are not mere theatrics — they expose the fragility of North American trade dynamics and demand a strategic response from Ottawa.

A cohesive plan to safeguard Canada’s agri-food sector is urgently needed. This means reducing barriers to innovation, revising policies such as the carbon tax that hinder competitiveness and expanding export markets to reduce dependence on the U.S. Strengthening diplomatic relationships with emerging markets, particularly in Asia, must also be a priority.

Trump’s approach may seem brash, but it reflects a deliberate strategy to assert U.S. dominance. Canada must rise to the challenge by rethinking its economic policies and securing its place as a leader in global agriculture.

Without bold action, the consequences will reverberate far beyond the farmgate, affecting every Canadian at the checkout line.

Sylvain Charlebois is a senior director of the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie University. This article first appeared on the Troy Media website.

Whether it’s genetically modified organisms, organic food, buying local, climate change or corporate greed in agri-food, most people just don’t grasp the full picture, even with efforts from the media and experts. This lack of understanding could worsen with the rise of artificial intelligence.

As bestselling author Yuval Noah Harari points out in his book Nexus, AI could make people more disconnected from many aspects of their lives, including food.

While some compare AI’s rise to the internet revolution, the two aren’t the same.

The internet is a tool, but AI can act independently, making decisions for us. This could lead to a situation where people are even less engaged with food systems than they are now, which is a real concern.

AI is currently playing a significant role in the food industry, bringing both advantages and challenges:

• Efficiency and waste reduction — AI is helping food manufacturers improve their supply chains, predict customer demand and reduce food waste. By accurately forecasting what customers will want, companies can produce the right amount of food, potentially cutting waste by up to 35 per cent.

• Personalized nutrition — AI is being used to offer personalized dietary advice tailored to individual preferences and health needs. This growing market could revolutionize how we approach nutrition, providing customized plans to millions of people based on their unique requirements.

• Food safety — AI enhances food safety by monitoring contamination risks and helping companies comply with regulations. This makes the food supply chain safer and more reliable, reducing the risks of food-borne illnesses.

• Job replacement — AI can potentially replace many jobs in the agri-food sector, particularly in management roles. It can optimize processes like logistics, waste management and resource planning, which may lead to significant changes in the industry and create job disruptions.

• New food products — AI could create custom foods and flavours based on personal preferences and even design new, self-sustaining food systems. Imagine AI recreating historical recipes or developing ethical food systems that address climate change faster than we can today.

However, while AI offers clear benefits, there are also serious ethical concerns:

• Influencing consumer behaviour — AI could give more power to those who control data, shaping our food choices and behaviour. Dynamic pricing and advanced marketing techniques might make it harder to tell what’s true or fair. Consumers could end up disadvantaged, unaware of how their preferences are being manipulated.

• Cultural impact — AI might influence our food cravings, shape culinary trends and even erode culinary traditions. Food is deeply tied to culture, traditions and personal preferences; can AI truly improve these human aspects, or will it harm cultural diversity?

• Widening inequality — Wealthier individuals could access better, AI-optimized diets, while poorer communities might be stuck with less nutritious options. This inequality already exists, but AI could make it worse, widening the gap between the rich and the poor.

AI could potentially completely reshape the way we think about food. While it aims to make food production more efficient, we must ensure it doesn’t erode local autonomy or food identities. It’s crucial to involve everyone in discussions about how AI is used in food and agriculture and to create regulations that prevent power from being concentrated in the hands of a few.

Finally, while AI holds enormous potential to revolutionize the food industry, it’s vital that we remain cautious about its broader impacts on society. AI is transforming how we produce, consume and think about food, and it’s up to us to ensure these changes are positive and equitable.

Sylvain Charlebois, a Canadian professor and researcher specializing in food distribution and policy, is a senior director of the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie.

While there is no evidence of dumping, the facts are largely irrelevant in this case. China will proceed with sanctions regardless of the explanations provided by the Canola Council of Canada or Canadian diplomatic channels. Much like in 2019, when Canada faced a similar impasse, we could see borders close again for Canadian agricultural exports.

In March 2019, after the arrest of Meng Wanzhou in the Huawei incident, China abruptly halted Canadian canola shipments, citing pest contamination as the official reason. The Canadian canola industry suffered estimated losses between $1.54 and $2.35 billion in sales, with price declines persisting until August 2020 due to the suspended export licences.

Pork exports were also affected, but canola has always been a primary target for China in these diplomatic standoffs.

Canola holds a special place in Canada’s agricultural identity, and targeting it first is a calculated move by China. The crop was developed in Canada and, as the world’s largest exporter, Canada plays a pivotal role in both global food markets and biofuel production. Conversely, China is the largest oilseed importer, with half of Canada’s canola exports destined for its market.

By hitting canola, China sends a clear message: it can disrupt a key Canadian sector anytime political tensions escalate.

Prairie farmers are already feeling the impact. Canola prices immediately dropped nearly five per cent, and further declines could mirror the prolonged downturn of 2019.

Western Canadian farmers now face significant uncertainty, largely a result of Ottawa’s aggressive push to bolster the battery and electric vehicle sectors. The federal government has committed nearly $50 billion toward building battery factories, a bold gamble that led to the imposition of tariffs on Chinese EVs.

The official rationale, it seems, is to protect domestic manufacturers from an influx of cheaper green vehicles from China, even if that means limiting affordable options for Canadian consumers and straining relations with China. This approach prioritizes the development of Canadian-made EVs over the potential benefits of allowing lower-cost imports to help reduce carbon emissions.

This industrial strategy follows a familiar pattern: when a government decides that a product must be produced domestically, at all costs, it often results in less competition, higher prices and questionable product quality.

The dairy industry offers a prime example. Ottawa has funneled billions into the sector, supported by highly restrictive trade barriers. While this policy has propped up dairy farmers, it has done so at the expense of other agricultural sectors — wheat, canola, beef and pork — all of which could arguably benefit from the same level of government support.

In the end, the federal government will likely compensate canola farmers for their losses, as it has done before. Farmers are resilient, but Canada’s diplomatic standing, particularly with China, continues to erode.

Sylvain Charlebois is director of the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie University.

Yet, there has been little public explanation for this delay. Both the Public Health Agency of Canada and the Canadian Food Inspection Agency have been responsive and transparent in their investigation, identifying Danone’s plant in Pickering, Ont., as the source.

However, aside from a vague statement released by Danone in July, the public remains largely in the dark. The company’s name has scarcely been mentioned, raising many unanswered questions.

So far, listeria cases have been reported in Ontario, Quebec, Alberta and Nova Scotia, with all three fatalities occurring in Ontario. This scenario is reminiscent of the 2008 listeria crisis involving Maple Leaf Foods, albeit on a smaller scale.

During the 2008 recall, Maple Leaf Foods was responsible for the deaths of 23 Canadians, with 57 confirmed cases of listeriosis. The first cases were reported just weeks before the recall, not months.

The recall itself was massive, targeting more than 200 cold-cut products and receiving intense scrutiny from both the media and government officials. The aftermath led to significant changes in Canada’s food safety surveillance system, including the addition of new CFIA inspectors.

Michael McCain, then chief executive officer of Maple Leaf Foods, issued multiple apologies, most notably on Aug. 18, 2008, when he stated that he didn’t need lawyers or accountants to “do the right thing.”

The 2008 crisis became one of Canada’s most well-known risk communication and food safety case studies. Media coverage was relentless, with reporters asking tough questions and demanding transparency from Maple Leaf Foods about what was happening at its North York plant.

A class-action lawsuit that followed was settled months later for $27 million.

In contrast, the current situation with Danone has received far less attention. The 2008 recall involved a highly Canadian company, Maple Leaf Foods, at a time when Canadian-made food safety incidents were rare. Danone, a foreign company, might not evoke the same level of scrutiny or public concern.

Additionally, the media landscape has changed significantly since 2008, with fewer journalists available to cover such stories due to industry-wide cuts and layoffs. One could argue that the 2008 media environment, with its more robust coverage, played a crucial role in holding Maple Leaf Foods accountable.

Another factor might be this year’s busy news cycle, dominated by the Olympics and the U.S. presidential election. However, it’s worth noting that 2008 also had its distractions, including the Beijing Olympics and Barack Obama’s historic campaign to become the first black president. Despite these events, the listeria crisis still dominated headlines for weeks.

It’s also possible that Canadians have become more desensitized to food safety issues over the years. However, desensitization doesn’t diminish the importance of transparency and accountability, especially when lives are at stake.

Canadians deserve to know how this recall could have been prevented and why it took nearly a year after the first casualty to issue the recall. The timing of the recall, right in the middle of summer when fewer people pay attention to the news, only adds to the frustration.

Now, as Silk plant-based milk products slowly return to store shelves, the number of those sickened continues to rise, and the death toll may increase further. Hearing directly from Danone about how it plans to prevent future incidents would go a long way in restoring public trust.

Canadians deserve answers, and they deserve them now.

Dr. Sylvain Charlebois, a Canadian professor and researcher specializing in food distribution and policy, is a senior director of the Agri-Food Analytics Lab at Dalhousie University in Halifax, N.S.

These phenomena, which have been around for decades, contribute to the rising cost of groceries.

However, a new trend called “stretchflation” appears to be emerging in our grocery stores.

Stretchflation, first reported in Europe, involves increasing the quantity of a product while its price rises disproportionately, subtly deceiving consumers.

An unverified example is Saputo’s sliced provolone at Costco. The package size increased from 620 grams to 750 grams, a 20 per cent increase. However, the price of the 750 grams is more than $15, representing more than a 25 per cent increase, according to some reports.

Recently, some bakery products have also experienced similar price and quantity adjustments.

For now, cases of stretchflation are rare in our grocery aisles, but we might see more in the future. The recent consumer revolt against shrinkflation is pushing manufacturers and distributors to offer more product, but they also seem to be asking for more money in return.

The common denominator of all these strategies is the rising cost of raw materials. For example, sugar is about 50 per cent more expensive than five years ago, and cocoa prices have surged by 103 per cent. Orange juice prices are at a record high.

Some ingredients always experience a price surge for one reason or another. Sometimes, ingredients increase wildly, or prices fluctuate enormously, as seen with wheat and other commodities at the beginning of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Manufacturers need to adjust to maintain their market share.

However, stretchflation is different.

The primary motivation behind stretchflation is likely to defend the industry’s image, not just to cut costs and offer less.

Bulk buying was the trend for about 20 years, starting from the inflationary phase of the early 1980s. “Big was king,” as the saying goes.

Since then, there have been two significant shrinkflation cycles: in 2008-09 and more recently, from 2022 to now. The recent cycle of shrinkflation probably ended earlier this year, but the industry’s response seems to be stretchflation.

One might wish to legislate against companies changing product quantities, but that could lead to further price increases. And there’s nothing illegal about it.

Nevertheless, these tactics are a nuisance for all of us. The most concerning aspect of these quantity changes is their effect on our bills and how Statistics Canada measures their impact on food inflation. While the federal agency assures us that it monitors these strategies’ effects on food inflation, it rarely provides clear examples of how it adjusts its methodology to account for them.

Another issue is retail sales taxes. Many food products lose their tax-exempt status if the quantity is reduced too much. For example, this is the case for ice cream, puddings and granola bars.

Reading the rules on what is taxable or not at the grocery store is complicated. With quantity changes, many products become taxable simply because the quantity has been reduced, or vice versa.

Besides the desire to legislate against these tactics, the lack of transparency on our grocery bills regarding taxes is probably the most pressing issue that needs to be addressed.

Sylvain Charlebois is senior director of the agri-food analytics lab and a professor in food distribution and policy at Dalhousie University. This article first appeared on the Troy Media website.

This collective commitment by all major players is vital for the code’s effectiveness and represents a significant effort that has taken years to achieve.

The Grocer Code of Conduct is designed to improve competition in the Canadian market by ensuring accountability across the food industry. It targets previously hidden practices, such as the high fees retailers charge suppliers, subjecting them to scrutiny and regulation.

For instance, consider a Canadian jam producer who wants to distribute products through major retailers such as Loblaw. Initially, the grocer might impose listing fees and other charges that could amount to more than $100,000 annually. As the product gains popularity, these fees can escalate dramatically, compelling the supplier to increase prices to maintain profitability.

This cycle leads to market instability and higher costs for consumers. The Grocer Code of Conduct aims to regulate these fee escalations, promoting a more stable pricing environment and fairer practices.

Furthermore, the Grocer Code of Conduct promises a more equitable environment for independent grocers, allowing them to negotiate on more equal terms.

While major players such as Loblaw and Walmart will still hold significant market influence, the code is expected to curb their predatory practices.

The industry’s need for an image overhaul cannot be overstated, especially in the wake of scandals such as the bread price-fixing debacle and the controversy over “hero pay” during the pandemic. These incidents have severely tarnished the public’s perception of the grocery sector.

Key figures such as Michael Medline, chief executive officer of Sobeys, have played pivotal roles in advancing the code. Medline’s call for greater discipline and respect within the industry, alongside the tireless advocacy by Michael Graydon and Sylvie Cloutier on behalf of Canadian food manufacturers, has significantly shaped the discourse and mobilized support among policymakers.

The efforts of François-Philippe Champagne, minister of innovation, science and industry, and the House of Commons agriculture committee chaired by MP Kody Blois, have also been instrumental in positioning the code as a strategic blueprint for fostering competition and enhancing supplier relations in Canada.

With the code’s implementation, food manufacturers and independent grocers will gain a stronger voice, leading to greater product diversity for consumers. This is a straightforward equation: more suppliers equate to more choices on the shelves.

While securing the commitment of all five major retailers is a commendable achievement, the real challenge lies ahead in ensuring compliance and tangible results.

Canadians’ skepticism will likely persist until they witness the benefits of these reforms firsthand — a sentiment that is both understandable and justified.

Sylvain Charlebois is senior director of the agri-food analytics lab and a professor in food distribution and policy at Dalhousie University.