What do you think?


Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick
How Coca-Cola makes Americans sick—and makes sure we don’t know it.
If we knew that Coca-Cola was among the deadliest products in our diet, would we continue drinking it in such great quantities? The Coca-Cola Company has gone to extraordinary lengths to make sure we don’t find out, as this damning exposé makes patently clear. Marshaling the findings of extensive research and deep investigative reporting, Murray Carpenter describes in Sweet and Deadly the damage Coke does to America’s health—and the remarkable campaign of disinformation conducted by the company to keep consumers in the dark.
Sugar-sweetened beverages are the single item in the American diet that most contributes to the epidemic of chronic disease—in particular, obesity, type 2 diabetes, and cardiovascular disease—and Coca-Cola is America’s favorite sugar-sweetened beverage, by far. Carpenter details how the Coca-Cola corporation’s sophisticated shadow network has masterfully spread disinformation for decades to hide the health risks of its product from consumers—risks disproportionately borne by Black, brown, and low-income communities. Working from a playbook of obfuscation and pseudoscience that has worked well for other harmful products, from tobacco and trans fats to opioids, Coca-Cola has managed to maintain an aura of goodness and happiness. This eye-opening book finally and fully reveals the truth behind that aura.
If we knew that Coca-Cola was among the deadliest products in our diet, would we continue drinking it in such great quantities? The Coca-Cola Company has gone to extraordinary lengths to make sure we don’t find out, as this damning exposé makes patently clear. Marshaling the findings of extensive research and deep investigative reporting, Murray Carpenter describes in Sweet and Deadly the damage Coke does to America’s health—and the remarkable campaign of disinformation conducted by the company to keep consumers in the dark.
Sugar-sweetened beverages are the single item in the American diet that most contributes to the epidemic of chronic disease—in particular, obesity, type 2 diabetes, and cardiovascular disease—and Coca-Cola is America’s favorite sugar-sweetened beverage, by far. Carpenter details how the Coca-Cola corporation’s sophisticated shadow network has masterfully spread disinformation for decades to hide the health risks of its product from consumers—risks disproportionately borne by Black, brown, and low-income communities. Working from a playbook of obfuscation and pseudoscience that has worked well for other harmful products, from tobacco and trans fats to opioids, Coca-Cola has managed to maintain an aura of goodness and happiness. This eye-opening book finally and fully reveals the truth behind that aura.
344 pages, Hardcover
Published March 25, 2025
About the author
Murray Carpenter
2 books18 followersMurray Carpenter is the author of Sweet and Deadly; How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick (MIT Press, March 2025), and Caffeinated, How Our Daily Habit Helps, Hurts and Hooks Us (Penguin USA, 2014). As a journalist focusing on science, health, climate, and environmental stories, he has reported for The New York Times, the Washington Post, Wired, National Geographic, NPR, and Maine Public Radio. His work has taken him across the United States, and to Guantanamo, the Colombian llanos, and a factory town in China.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
June 27, 2025
I'm about to start going up to random people and tell them to stop drinking soda
Read
April 19, 2025DNF. I'm not sure who this book is written for but the author seems to think his revelation that sugary drinks are extremely unhealthy and will make you fat will blow your mind. Also, did you know that billion dollar companies constantly lie to their customers to cover up just how damaging their products are? 🤯
June 5, 2025
I book telling the story how a major company can ruin the health of millions of people and face no consequences. How Coca cola literally became a major influencer of health promotion in the US by feeding money into research, buying people off, and fighting against acknowledging what a large role intake of added sugars plays in one's health, by blaming fats, insisting that a calorie is a calorie regardless of its source, and lots more misinformation out there. The book referenced a lot to salt, sugar, fat book by Michael Moss, which is a book I really enjoyed, but felt at times then repetitive.
I did not like coca cola as a company to begin with, but after this makes me boycott them further for thinking only of money and not the lives they're ruining.
I did not like coca cola as a company to begin with, but after this makes me boycott them further for thinking only of money and not the lives they're ruining.
December 18, 2025
I am not a soda drinker and haven't been for many years but I still DNF'd at chapter 3.
I think there's an interesting topic here - I initially wanted to read the book based on a chapter excerpt published in a magazine. However, the author's sensationalization and downright lack of scientific knowledge is immediately clear and offputting.
He conflates all types of sweeteners into "sugar sweetened drinks" and says right off the bat he won't dive into artificial sweeteners or diet sodas, despite our bodies having different reactions to sugar vs different types of sweeteners. He claims Coca Cola invented the energy drink because the original 8oz version contained 80mg of coffee, "the same size and caffeine content as a can of Red Bull." I suppose "the same size and caffeine as the cup of black coffee with a splash of cream and sugar that millions of people drink every day with no ill health effects" did not have the same scary effect. There's a weird emphasis on the caffeine added to Coke, when there are many other (naturally!) caffeinated beverages out there.
He refers to "ascorbic acid" like it's a scary chemical when it is, in fact, the scientific name for vitamin C. Then we dive into a racism-tinged description of how these chemicals are synthesized in dirty, overseas plants before being shipped here to poison the bodies of poor innocent Americans. (Hey Murray - Puerto Rico has cities, and infrastructure, not just small mountain towns and banana groves.) In just a few chapters the book began to take on a very MAHA vibe, like I was watching an Instagram Reel of a tradwife or gym bro explaining to me why almond flour is toxic.
I think artificial sweeteners are largely not great for you. I think pounding soda all day is too. I think there's a lot of junk in our food! But these conversations should be rooted in science, and it's impossible to have those conversations when the argument boils down to "chemicals bad" at best and an inherent misunderstanding of the science at worst. I also think anything in moderation is key - even I indulge in a (Mexican, real sugar only, please) Coke once a year or so. There's an argument to be had here, but this book is not making it effectively.
I think there's an interesting topic here - I initially wanted to read the book based on a chapter excerpt published in a magazine. However, the author's sensationalization and downright lack of scientific knowledge is immediately clear and offputting.
He conflates all types of sweeteners into "sugar sweetened drinks" and says right off the bat he won't dive into artificial sweeteners or diet sodas, despite our bodies having different reactions to sugar vs different types of sweeteners. He claims Coca Cola invented the energy drink because the original 8oz version contained 80mg of coffee, "the same size and caffeine content as a can of Red Bull." I suppose "the same size and caffeine as the cup of black coffee with a splash of cream and sugar that millions of people drink every day with no ill health effects" did not have the same scary effect. There's a weird emphasis on the caffeine added to Coke, when there are many other (naturally!) caffeinated beverages out there.
He refers to "ascorbic acid" like it's a scary chemical when it is, in fact, the scientific name for vitamin C. Then we dive into a racism-tinged description of how these chemicals are synthesized in dirty, overseas plants before being shipped here to poison the bodies of poor innocent Americans. (Hey Murray - Puerto Rico has cities, and infrastructure, not just small mountain towns and banana groves.) In just a few chapters the book began to take on a very MAHA vibe, like I was watching an Instagram Reel of a tradwife or gym bro explaining to me why almond flour is toxic.
I think artificial sweeteners are largely not great for you. I think pounding soda all day is too. I think there's a lot of junk in our food! But these conversations should be rooted in science, and it's impossible to have those conversations when the argument boils down to "chemicals bad" at best and an inherent misunderstanding of the science at worst. I also think anything in moderation is key - even I indulge in a (Mexican, real sugar only, please) Coke once a year or so. There's an argument to be had here, but this book is not making it effectively.
February 1, 2026
lost me at some point
August 18, 2026
Book Review
Title: Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick by Murray Carpenter
Genre: Non-Fiction, Health, Science
Rating: 4 Stars
Murray Carpenter's Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick is a thoroughly researched, compelling, and often infuriating investigation into one of the world's most recognisable brands and the ways in which corporate power can influence public understanding of health. Published by MIT Press in 2025, the book examines Coca-Cola's decades-long efforts to shape the scientific and political conversation surrounding sugar-sweetened beverages, particularly the company's attempts to influence research, public-health messaging, and perceptions of what causes obesity and chronic disease. Carpenter, an experienced journalist who has written for publications including The New York Times, The Washington Post, Wired, National Geographic, and NPR, approaches the subject as an investigative journalist rather than simply an anti-Coca-Cola polemicist.
The result is an eye-opening book that demonstrates just how complicated the relationship between science, industry, politics, marketing, and public health can become when enormous amounts of money are involved. Although some of Carpenter's arguments occasionally feel repetitive and the book's conclusion is hardly surprising to anyone already familiar with the history of food-industry lobbying, Sweet and Deadly succeeds in presenting a detailed account of how corporate influence can operate behind the scenes. Informative, accessible, and frequently disturbing, it earns a strong 4 out of 5 stars.
At the centre of the book is a deceptively simple question: how did Coca-Cola manage to maintain its image as a symbol of happiness, friendship, refreshment, and everyday enjoyment while the scientific evidence surrounding excessive consumption of sugar-sweetened beverages became increasingly concerning? Carpenter's answer is that Coca-Cola did not simply sell drinks; it helped shape the conversation surrounding those drinks. The book investigates a sophisticated network involving researchers, universities, scientific organisations, industry groups, public-relations campaigns, and front organisations that helped promote narratives favourable to the beverage industry. Carpenter's central argument is that the company and its allies repeatedly sought to shift attention away from sugar and towards alternative explanations for obesity and chronic disease, particularly physical inactivity.
One of the book's greatest strengths is that Carpenter does not limit himself to explaining why sugary drinks can be harmful. The science of nutrition is important, but his real subject is information: who controls it, who funds it, how it is presented to the public, and how easily apparently independent scientific messages can become influenced by commercial interests. This makes Sweet and Deadly much more interesting than a simple book warning readers to drink less soda. Carpenter is essentially investigating the machinery behind public doubt.
This becomes particularly compelling when he examines Coca-Cola's relationships with scientists and health organisations. The book describes how industry funding could create networks of influence that were not always immediately obvious to the public. One particularly important example is the Global Energy Balance Network, an organisation that promoted the idea that physical activity deserved greater emphasis in discussions about obesity. The network was later revealed to have received funding from Coca-Cola, and the controversy surrounding it became a significant example of how corporate interests could become intertwined with apparently independent health advocacy.
Carpenter's discussion of these networks is one of the most effective parts of the book because he demonstrates that disinformation does not necessarily require outright fabrication. Sometimes influence operates through emphasis, omission, framing, funding, and the selection of which questions receive attention. A company does not necessarily have to convince people that sugar is harmless; it may be enough to convince them that other factors are equally or more important. This subtlety makes the book's argument considerably more disturbing.
The comparison between the beverage industry and other industries with histories of manipulating scientific debate is also effective. Carpenter repeatedly draws parallels with tobacco, trans fats, and opioids, showing how industries facing potentially damaging evidence can develop similar strategies for protecting their reputations and profits. The comparison is particularly powerful because it demonstrates that the tactics surrounding Coca-Cola are not necessarily unique. Instead, they form part of a much larger history of corporate influence over scientific and public discourse.
Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of the book is how unsurprising some of its revelations may feel. Most readers already understand that drinking large quantities of sugary soda is not particularly healthy. The basic conclusion that Coca-Cola has a financial incentive to sell as much of its product as possible is hardly revolutionary. Some reader reactions have made precisely this criticism, arguing that the book spends considerable time establishing something that many people already intuitively understand.
However, I think this criticism misses one of Carpenter's most important points. The book is not really trying to reveal that Coca-Cola wants to make money. It is demonstrating how far a corporation can go to protect the cultural reputation of a profitable product, and how difficult it can be for consumers to distinguish genuinely independent scientific information from messaging influenced by industry interests. The details are therefore much more interesting than the conclusion itself.
Carpenter's journalistic approach is another major strength. Rather than relying entirely on secondary sources, he draws upon interviews with researchers and doctors, archival material, scientific literature, and court records. He also investigated a lawsuit involving two Washington, D.C., pastors and Coca-Cola and the American Beverage Association. This gives the narrative an investigative quality that makes it considerably more substantial than a general-interest book about the dangers of sugar.
The book's structure also reflects the investigative nature of the subject. Carpenter moves through different stages of the controversy, beginning with the broader history and gradually narrowing his attention towards specific campaigns, organisations, scientific disputes, and legal battles. The published contents include sections such as "CarboNation," "A Balancing Act 2010–2015," "Astroturf and Taxes," "Coke in Court," and "The Noose Tightens." This organisation helps demonstrate how different elements of corporate influence fit together.
One particularly effective subject is the fight over soda taxes. Carpenter illustrates how public-health initiatives designed to discourage excessive consumption can provoke considerable opposition from beverage companies and industry organisations. What initially appears to be a straightforward political debate about taxation becomes a much larger battle involving lobbying, public relations, advertising, scientific messaging, and community politics. This section demonstrates particularly well that the influence of a corporation extends far beyond what appears on the supermarket shelf.
The book is also strongest when Carpenter examines communities disproportionately affected by the health consequences associated with sugar-sweetened beverages. He discusses the greater burden experienced by Black, brown, and low-income communities, adding an important social dimension to the discussion. The issue therefore becomes about more than individual consumer choice. Advertising, product availability, economic inequality, and targeted marketing can all influence who consumes these products and who ultimately bears the greatest consequences.
This is an important distinction because one potential weakness of books about nutrition is that they can place too much responsibility on individuals. It is easy to say that people should simply make healthier choices, but Carpenter asks readers to consider the environment in which those choices occur. If a company spends enormous resources ensuring that its products are affordable, ubiquitous, heavily advertised, associated with happiness, and surrounded by favourable messaging, then individual decision-making does not happen in a vacuum.
Carpenter's writing style is generally clear and accessible. Despite dealing with scientific research, corporate structures, and legal disputes, he avoids burying readers under excessive technical language. This makes Sweet and Deadly suitable for readers who have little prior knowledge of nutrition science or corporate lobbying. His background in journalism is apparent in the way he introduces complex issues through individual stories before connecting them to the larger argument.
However, the book does occasionally become repetitive. Because Carpenter returns repeatedly to the central theme of corporate influence, some sections begin to feel as though they are reinforcing conclusions that have already been established. The pattern of corporate funding, favourable research, public-relations, messaging, and political influence becomes familiar quickly. A slightly tighter edit might have made the argument even more powerful by allowing the strongest examples to carry more weight.
There are also moments where Carpenter's language becomes sufficiently forceful that readers may question whether the book is maintaining enough distance from its subject. This is an exposé, and Carpenter is clearly critical of Coca-Cola, so a degree of indignation is entirely understandable. Nevertheless, investigative nonfiction is at its most persuasive when the evidence speaks for itself. Occasionally, the rhetoric feels stronger than necessary when the documented evidence is already damning enough.
This is perhaps the main reason I would give the book four rather than five stars. I found the research convincing and the subject fascinating, but I occasionally felt that Carpenter was making the same point multiple times. Some readers may also find the conclusion somewhat predictable, particularly if they have already read books about the food industry's manipulation of nutritional science.
Nevertheless, the book's greatest achievement is that it makes readers think differently about how knowledge is produced. After reading Sweet and Deadly, it becomes difficult to view nutritional advice as entirely separate from the financial interests of the organisations funding research, sponsoring conferences, supporting scientists, or lobbying governments. That does not mean that every industry-funded study is automatically false, nor does Carpenter's argument require such an extreme conclusion. Instead, the book encourages a healthier scepticism: ask who funded the research, what questions were asked, which questions were ignored, and who benefits from the resulting narrative.
That lesson extends well beyond Coca-Cola. The book is ultimately about corporate power and the manipulation of uncertainty. Coca-Cola happens to provide an extraordinarily effective case study because of the cultural importance of its brand and the enormous scale of the soft-drink industry. Carpenter's investigation therefore has implications for pharmaceuticals, food manufacturers, alcohol companies, technology firms, and any other industry whose profits depend upon persuading consumers that its products are safe, desirable, or beneficial.
Perhaps ironically, one of the most effective things Sweet and Deadly does is make Coca-Cola itself feel strangely fascinating. The company is no longer simply a manufacturer of fizzy drinks, but a case study in branding, lobbying, public relations, scientific influence, and corporate power. The contrast between the cheerful image Coca-Cola has cultivated for generations and the darker history Carpenter describes is central to the book's impact.
Ultimately, Sweet and Deadly is an important and highly readable piece of investigative nonfiction. It does not merely tell readers that sugary drinks are unhealthy; it asks why the public has historically received such confusing messages about them and who benefits from that confusion. Carpenter's extensive research, interviews, archival work, and examination of court records give the book considerable credibility, while his accessible writing makes a complicated subject surprisingly easy to follow.
The book is not perfect. Its central conclusion will hardly surprise anyone already familiar with the relationship between Big Food and public health, and some sections repeat the same argument often enough that the narrative occasionally loses momentum. Carpenter's strongly critical tone may also feel somewhat one-sided to readers looking for a more detached academic treatment. Nevertheless, these shortcomings do little to undermine the book's overall value.
Overall, I would give Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick 4 out of 5 stars. It is an illuminating, meticulously researched, and often infuriating examination of how one of the world's most powerful consumer brands has influenced public conversation surrounding nutrition and health. Murray Carpenter succeeds in showing that the most dangerous form of corporate misinformation is not necessarily an outright lie, but the carefully constructed narrative that causes people to doubt, overlook, or misunderstand inconvenient evidence. Whether or not every reader is persuaded by every aspect of Carpenter's argument, the book leaves behind an important lesson: when enormous financial interests are involved, understanding the science is only half the battle, the other half is understanding who is paying to shape the story.
Title: Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick by Murray Carpenter
Genre: Non-Fiction, Health, Science
Rating: 4 Stars
Murray Carpenter's Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick is a thoroughly researched, compelling, and often infuriating investigation into one of the world's most recognisable brands and the ways in which corporate power can influence public understanding of health. Published by MIT Press in 2025, the book examines Coca-Cola's decades-long efforts to shape the scientific and political conversation surrounding sugar-sweetened beverages, particularly the company's attempts to influence research, public-health messaging, and perceptions of what causes obesity and chronic disease. Carpenter, an experienced journalist who has written for publications including The New York Times, The Washington Post, Wired, National Geographic, and NPR, approaches the subject as an investigative journalist rather than simply an anti-Coca-Cola polemicist.
The result is an eye-opening book that demonstrates just how complicated the relationship between science, industry, politics, marketing, and public health can become when enormous amounts of money are involved. Although some of Carpenter's arguments occasionally feel repetitive and the book's conclusion is hardly surprising to anyone already familiar with the history of food-industry lobbying, Sweet and Deadly succeeds in presenting a detailed account of how corporate influence can operate behind the scenes. Informative, accessible, and frequently disturbing, it earns a strong 4 out of 5 stars.
At the centre of the book is a deceptively simple question: how did Coca-Cola manage to maintain its image as a symbol of happiness, friendship, refreshment, and everyday enjoyment while the scientific evidence surrounding excessive consumption of sugar-sweetened beverages became increasingly concerning? Carpenter's answer is that Coca-Cola did not simply sell drinks; it helped shape the conversation surrounding those drinks. The book investigates a sophisticated network involving researchers, universities, scientific organisations, industry groups, public-relations campaigns, and front organisations that helped promote narratives favourable to the beverage industry. Carpenter's central argument is that the company and its allies repeatedly sought to shift attention away from sugar and towards alternative explanations for obesity and chronic disease, particularly physical inactivity.
One of the book's greatest strengths is that Carpenter does not limit himself to explaining why sugary drinks can be harmful. The science of nutrition is important, but his real subject is information: who controls it, who funds it, how it is presented to the public, and how easily apparently independent scientific messages can become influenced by commercial interests. This makes Sweet and Deadly much more interesting than a simple book warning readers to drink less soda. Carpenter is essentially investigating the machinery behind public doubt.
This becomes particularly compelling when he examines Coca-Cola's relationships with scientists and health organisations. The book describes how industry funding could create networks of influence that were not always immediately obvious to the public. One particularly important example is the Global Energy Balance Network, an organisation that promoted the idea that physical activity deserved greater emphasis in discussions about obesity. The network was later revealed to have received funding from Coca-Cola, and the controversy surrounding it became a significant example of how corporate interests could become intertwined with apparently independent health advocacy.
Carpenter's discussion of these networks is one of the most effective parts of the book because he demonstrates that disinformation does not necessarily require outright fabrication. Sometimes influence operates through emphasis, omission, framing, funding, and the selection of which questions receive attention. A company does not necessarily have to convince people that sugar is harmless; it may be enough to convince them that other factors are equally or more important. This subtlety makes the book's argument considerably more disturbing.
The comparison between the beverage industry and other industries with histories of manipulating scientific debate is also effective. Carpenter repeatedly draws parallels with tobacco, trans fats, and opioids, showing how industries facing potentially damaging evidence can develop similar strategies for protecting their reputations and profits. The comparison is particularly powerful because it demonstrates that the tactics surrounding Coca-Cola are not necessarily unique. Instead, they form part of a much larger history of corporate influence over scientific and public discourse.
Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of the book is how unsurprising some of its revelations may feel. Most readers already understand that drinking large quantities of sugary soda is not particularly healthy. The basic conclusion that Coca-Cola has a financial incentive to sell as much of its product as possible is hardly revolutionary. Some reader reactions have made precisely this criticism, arguing that the book spends considerable time establishing something that many people already intuitively understand.
However, I think this criticism misses one of Carpenter's most important points. The book is not really trying to reveal that Coca-Cola wants to make money. It is demonstrating how far a corporation can go to protect the cultural reputation of a profitable product, and how difficult it can be for consumers to distinguish genuinely independent scientific information from messaging influenced by industry interests. The details are therefore much more interesting than the conclusion itself.
Carpenter's journalistic approach is another major strength. Rather than relying entirely on secondary sources, he draws upon interviews with researchers and doctors, archival material, scientific literature, and court records. He also investigated a lawsuit involving two Washington, D.C., pastors and Coca-Cola and the American Beverage Association. This gives the narrative an investigative quality that makes it considerably more substantial than a general-interest book about the dangers of sugar.
The book's structure also reflects the investigative nature of the subject. Carpenter moves through different stages of the controversy, beginning with the broader history and gradually narrowing his attention towards specific campaigns, organisations, scientific disputes, and legal battles. The published contents include sections such as "CarboNation," "A Balancing Act 2010–2015," "Astroturf and Taxes," "Coke in Court," and "The Noose Tightens." This organisation helps demonstrate how different elements of corporate influence fit together.
One particularly effective subject is the fight over soda taxes. Carpenter illustrates how public-health initiatives designed to discourage excessive consumption can provoke considerable opposition from beverage companies and industry organisations. What initially appears to be a straightforward political debate about taxation becomes a much larger battle involving lobbying, public relations, advertising, scientific messaging, and community politics. This section demonstrates particularly well that the influence of a corporation extends far beyond what appears on the supermarket shelf.
The book is also strongest when Carpenter examines communities disproportionately affected by the health consequences associated with sugar-sweetened beverages. He discusses the greater burden experienced by Black, brown, and low-income communities, adding an important social dimension to the discussion. The issue therefore becomes about more than individual consumer choice. Advertising, product availability, economic inequality, and targeted marketing can all influence who consumes these products and who ultimately bears the greatest consequences.
This is an important distinction because one potential weakness of books about nutrition is that they can place too much responsibility on individuals. It is easy to say that people should simply make healthier choices, but Carpenter asks readers to consider the environment in which those choices occur. If a company spends enormous resources ensuring that its products are affordable, ubiquitous, heavily advertised, associated with happiness, and surrounded by favourable messaging, then individual decision-making does not happen in a vacuum.
Carpenter's writing style is generally clear and accessible. Despite dealing with scientific research, corporate structures, and legal disputes, he avoids burying readers under excessive technical language. This makes Sweet and Deadly suitable for readers who have little prior knowledge of nutrition science or corporate lobbying. His background in journalism is apparent in the way he introduces complex issues through individual stories before connecting them to the larger argument.
However, the book does occasionally become repetitive. Because Carpenter returns repeatedly to the central theme of corporate influence, some sections begin to feel as though they are reinforcing conclusions that have already been established. The pattern of corporate funding, favourable research, public-relations, messaging, and political influence becomes familiar quickly. A slightly tighter edit might have made the argument even more powerful by allowing the strongest examples to carry more weight.
There are also moments where Carpenter's language becomes sufficiently forceful that readers may question whether the book is maintaining enough distance from its subject. This is an exposé, and Carpenter is clearly critical of Coca-Cola, so a degree of indignation is entirely understandable. Nevertheless, investigative nonfiction is at its most persuasive when the evidence speaks for itself. Occasionally, the rhetoric feels stronger than necessary when the documented evidence is already damning enough.
This is perhaps the main reason I would give the book four rather than five stars. I found the research convincing and the subject fascinating, but I occasionally felt that Carpenter was making the same point multiple times. Some readers may also find the conclusion somewhat predictable, particularly if they have already read books about the food industry's manipulation of nutritional science.
Nevertheless, the book's greatest achievement is that it makes readers think differently about how knowledge is produced. After reading Sweet and Deadly, it becomes difficult to view nutritional advice as entirely separate from the financial interests of the organisations funding research, sponsoring conferences, supporting scientists, or lobbying governments. That does not mean that every industry-funded study is automatically false, nor does Carpenter's argument require such an extreme conclusion. Instead, the book encourages a healthier scepticism: ask who funded the research, what questions were asked, which questions were ignored, and who benefits from the resulting narrative.
That lesson extends well beyond Coca-Cola. The book is ultimately about corporate power and the manipulation of uncertainty. Coca-Cola happens to provide an extraordinarily effective case study because of the cultural importance of its brand and the enormous scale of the soft-drink industry. Carpenter's investigation therefore has implications for pharmaceuticals, food manufacturers, alcohol companies, technology firms, and any other industry whose profits depend upon persuading consumers that its products are safe, desirable, or beneficial.
Perhaps ironically, one of the most effective things Sweet and Deadly does is make Coca-Cola itself feel strangely fascinating. The company is no longer simply a manufacturer of fizzy drinks, but a case study in branding, lobbying, public relations, scientific influence, and corporate power. The contrast between the cheerful image Coca-Cola has cultivated for generations and the darker history Carpenter describes is central to the book's impact.
Ultimately, Sweet and Deadly is an important and highly readable piece of investigative nonfiction. It does not merely tell readers that sugary drinks are unhealthy; it asks why the public has historically received such confusing messages about them and who benefits from that confusion. Carpenter's extensive research, interviews, archival work, and examination of court records give the book considerable credibility, while his accessible writing makes a complicated subject surprisingly easy to follow.
The book is not perfect. Its central conclusion will hardly surprise anyone already familiar with the relationship between Big Food and public health, and some sections repeat the same argument often enough that the narrative occasionally loses momentum. Carpenter's strongly critical tone may also feel somewhat one-sided to readers looking for a more detached academic treatment. Nevertheless, these shortcomings do little to undermine the book's overall value.
Overall, I would give Sweet and Deadly: How Coca-Cola Spreads Disinformation and Makes Us Sick 4 out of 5 stars. It is an illuminating, meticulously researched, and often infuriating examination of how one of the world's most powerful consumer brands has influenced public conversation surrounding nutrition and health. Murray Carpenter succeeds in showing that the most dangerous form of corporate misinformation is not necessarily an outright lie, but the carefully constructed narrative that causes people to doubt, overlook, or misunderstand inconvenient evidence. Whether or not every reader is persuaded by every aspect of Carpenter's argument, the book leaves behind an important lesson: when enormous financial interests are involved, understanding the science is only half the battle, the other half is understanding who is paying to shape the story.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 11, 2025
Picked up in NYPL. I’d been in a pretty bad reading slump, so it took me quite a while to finish this book. The short chapters—some only 2–3 pages long—probably helped, as I could get through it in bite-sized portions.
I’ve always known that sugary drinks are bad for your health, but I had no idea about the extent of the soda industry’s efforts to cover it up. This is a great read if you want a behind-the-scenes look at why certain companies operate the way they do.
It’s worth noting that while the book does mention third-world countries, it doesn’t go into much detail about the impact there, which I found a bit disappointing. The focus is largely on the American market.
I’ve always known that sugary drinks are bad for your health, but I had no idea about the extent of the soda industry’s efforts to cover it up. This is a great read if you want a behind-the-scenes look at why certain companies operate the way they do.
It’s worth noting that while the book does mention third-world countries, it doesn’t go into much detail about the impact there, which I found a bit disappointing. The focus is largely on the American market.
January 5, 2026
As the book states, most people know sodas are bad for you. This book’s main focus is the decade 2010-2020 (what is it called ???) and how Coca Cola specifically strategized to keep its products in stores and stomachs. Some good information here , sure, but the passages were often 1-2 pages and filled with unnecessary details , like what color tie the CEO was wearing.
July 17, 2025
Very interesting. Beware where we get our health info.
September 2, 2025
Unsurprising and somewhat obvious in its point. But also written in a sensational voice that makes me almost doubt the author's credibility, despite agreeing with their central point.
March 21, 2026
Nothing too shocking, but it ironically just made me want soda more than anything. The author accidentally described Coke as the most delicious thing on earth 🤷♀️
April 5, 2025
This book pulls back the curtain on an overlooked public health issue with precision and purpose. Clear, compelling, and packed with essential insight, it’s a well-structured read that never overwhelms. Highly recommend if you want to understand what’s really going on beneath the surface.
June 3, 2025
There is a sugar lobby in the United States and this book will have you understanding what that lobby has to do with the various epidemics that the world currently faces.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews













