Protein Maxing and the Illusion of Nutrition Progress
In this solo YouTube commentary, the narrator examines the cultural shift toward “protein maxing,” where high‑protein claims dominate modern food products. Using the David Bar as a focal case study, the video is organized into five chapters. Chapter 1 outlines the historical pendulum of diet trends and explains why protein has become the neutral, market‑friendly macronutrient. Chapter 2 details the bar’s marketing brilliance—its invented “CFP” (Calories From Protein) metric, premium packaging, and the founder’s pedigree (RX Bar creator Peter Rahal). Chapter 3 scrutinizes the bar’s formulation, highlighting problematic additives such as maltitol (a sugar‑alcohol causing GI distress), sucralose (artificial sweetener linked in some studies to insulin resistance when paired with carbs), and the overall claim that the product contains “only what’s necessary.” Chapter 4 dives into the most controversial ingredient, esterified propoxylated glycerol (EPG), a synthetic fat substitute that reduces caloric density but can cause digestive issues and is at the center of an antitrust lawsuit after David Bar’s parent company acquired the sole producer and cut off supply to smaller competitors. Chapter 5 presents a personal taste test (rating flavors 2‑5/10), compares cost and CFP values to whole‑food protein sources (eggs, biltong, sardines, RX Bar), and reflects on the ethical implications of designing a product to dominate a single metric rather than to nourish people. Throughout, the narrator weaves personal GI anecdotes, user reviews, and references to scientific studies, concluding that the David Bar exemplifies both clever marketing and the potential regression of nutrition when a single nutrient is over‑optimized.
Chapters
No doubt you've noticed, we've entered the era of protein. Protein. Protein. Protein. Protein. Protein. Protein. Protein. First it was low-fat, then it was paleo, now we're full throttle into what can only be called protein maxing, and everything has protein in it. Protein ice cream, protein Cheerios, protein oatmeal, protein Starbucks, Kardashian protein popcorn, protein Pop-Tarts. But at the very pinnacle of this protein maxing moment sits one bar above the others. The David bar. Why are people so divided on David? How optimal is it really? Or is it just a wallet biopsy that's also going to cost you a few extra rolls of toilet paper? Let's take a bite and find out what we can learn. Why we're in the era of protein maxing. They're rushing to slap high protein on everything. A bar fit for a statue. The highest CFP metric of any bar on the market. Now when I ate them, I poop my pants. This is where the good stuff ends. It's also a gastrointestinal wildcard. It was actually pretty scary. It was terminated early, citing safety concerns. Is only what's necessary truth or just legally permissive marketing? Now I promise to tell you how this tasted later in the taste test, but first a little bit of housekeeping. I normally avoid reaction content unless something crosses a certain threshold where public interest meets personal curiosity. And the topic offers meaningful insight. And this one clears the bar. So here's what to expect in this video. In chapter 1, I'll explain why we're in the era of protein maxing. In chapter 2, why David Barr is a case study in genius marketing. In chapter 3, I'll get into the formulation of the David Barr and whether there's reason to tread with caution. In chapter 4, I'll review the big controversy around this bar's central ingredient, something called EPG. Then in chapter 5, we're gonna do the taste test and I'll discuss other options before finally culminating with the real point of this video, which isn't to applaud or throw shade, but unwrap an uncomfortable truth that is history repeating itself. And as always, if you want the references, details, you can always check out the associated newsletter at stavecuriousmetabolism.com, but with that, let's get to chapter 1: The Rise of Protein Culture. Over the decades, we've watched diet culture swing like a pendulum on a shifting axis, from low-fat to paleo and now high protein. Protein has emerged as culture's favorite macronutrient for one main reason: it's hard to hate. Sure, fat makes you fat, saturated fat raises cholesterol, sugar is the enemy—these are overly simple but widely accepted narratives because they're emotionally sticky. But protein? Protein has a clean slate. It's functional, and it's largely nutritionally bipartisan. So yeah, you can smear a stick of butter or bash a bowl of pasta, but the only thing to hate about a chicken breast is to call it inferior to the thigh. And yes, thighs are better than breasts. Anyway, to be fair, more protein, especially more than the absurdly low recommended daily allowance of 0.36 grams per kilogram, tends to be beneficial. There might be some exceptions, but on balance is beneficial. It helps preserve lean muscle, particularly as we age, improves satiety, increases the thermic effect of food, and lots of other benefits. So, in short, protein is great, which is why it's become a sort of nutritional compromise. It's a peace offering in the diet wars. So it's no surprise that influencers and food companies alike, they're rushing to slap high protein on everything. It's just great marketing. You know, here's a marketing trick: the bigger the font, the more protein proportionally our brains are gonna think this has. But if you actually look at this protein granola, Its ingredients are, in order: whole grain oats, whole grain wheat, sugar, canola oil, then milk protein isolate. It has 38 grams of carbs and 11 grams of protein. So no, there is not a correlation between font size and protein amount. Keep that in mind. And all else being equal, this focus on protein isn't necessarily bad, but it does open the door to nutritional distortion. You don't need to be a medical doctor or a PhD or a dietitian to recognize that high protein Cheerios, ice cream, and Starbucks aren't gonna set you up to be a paragon of health. So yeah, Starbucks, protein has never tasted so good because you're selling a milkshake with 26 grams of sugar. Yet many of us forget this, zooming in on that word protein as if it alone redeems an entire product. So that brings us to Chapter 2: Protein Marketing at Its Peak. The David bar, for a little bit of history, was created by someone named Peter Rahal, who is not a one-hit wonder. He's not a one-trick pony. You may recognize his previous work, RX Bar. That bar was the sweetheart of the paleo movement with the tagline "No BS," and in my opinion remains one of the cleanest snack bars on the market. I have to say, in the wild west of colors and advertising, the RXBAR still seemed to be like the cleanest thing here. Egg whites, almonds, cashews, dates, and some cocoa, and 12 grams of protein. No BS. And not an ad either. Peter then sold RXBAR to Kellogg's for $600 million. Good for him, I suppose. Seriously, no hate. Game appreciates game. And am I a little bit jealous that he has a Ferrari 488 and a $19 million mansion? Honestly, few wouldn't be. But in the David bar, Peter made lightning strike twice. David bar is engineered perfectly to fit the values of this protein-maxing era in which we're living. It boasts the highest CFP metric of any bar on the market. What is CFP? Calories from protein. This is a term the David bar team made up. You could just say percent of calories from protein, but a fresh acronym makes for better branding. Again, that's not hate, it's transparent acknowledgement of the game being played. In the package, Flux's premium energy, this gold foil sleek design, and the name that references the Renaissance masterpiece itself that we all know, a bar fit for a statue, the ideal physique. Well, as a sidebar, not really. As a curious aside, if you scale Michelangelo's David from its 17 feet down to an average male height of 5 foot 9 inches, his equipment would actually just be under 2 inches. So yeah, beauty standards change. But that aside, let's talk about numbers. Each David bar has 150 calories and 28 grams of protein with 12 grams of total carbs, 7 from sugar alcohols and 1 from fiber, so 4 net carbs. That means 75 of the calories come from protein, a CFP score of 75%. If you want some comparisons, compare that to the Starbucks cold foam protein latte we mentioned earlier. That has a CFP one-third that of David, at 26%. And even an egg is only a CFP around 34%, but David bar is 75. We'll get into how they do that a little bit later. In fact, David bar is only outmatched in CFP by some very lean animal proteins, like boiled cod. And here's where the branding gets genius again. The company actually sells cod too, flaunting it has a higher CFP value than the bar itself. This is next-level positioning, next-level marketing, because realistically no one wants to walk into their local Planet Fitness with a bag of cold cod. But a bar? Sleek, golden, high-protein, easy to carry? In brief, the David Bar captures not a meal, not a snack bar, but a movement. And that is where the good stuff ends. That brings us to Chapter 3: Unnecessary Additives. So let's explore beyond calories from protein. But before we dive into the details, I just want to briefly point out that while calories from protein is accurately marketed based on just straightforward math, other aspects of the marketing seem to me more fluffy and sometimes less honest. The David Bar advertises it contains "only what's necessary," which is not just debatable, it's untrue. So let's talk specifics. It contains malitol, a sugar alcohol that's used in the binding system. It's not just a sweetener, it's also a gastrointestinal wildcard. It's only partially absorbed, so a portion of it, the malitol, gets to the colon and is fermented by bacteria, and the result can be, for some people, severe bloating, gas, cramps, and diarrhea. It is dose-dependent, but the David Bar contains enough that it can affect sensitive individuals, and the internet reviews don't hold back. Let me read one. "Now when I ate them, the David Bars, I poop my pants. Yep, grown adult, leaving an orange waxy disgusting mess in my underwear. It starts as what feels like flatulence and then disaster sets in." Anyway, whether that's from the malitol in David Bar or another ingredient called EPG which we're going to get to shortly, the outcome is the same, and it certainly doesn't contain just what's necessary. So from a user perspective, be warned, in your quest for a high CFP, you might unintentionally be also CFP maxing—colorful flatulence and poop in this case. Anyway, jokes aside, the sweeteners in David Barr are also, in my opinion, nutritionally problematic. The data on artificial sweeteners, just at a high level now, it's complex. It's confounded by study design, dosage, host response, and importantly the control group. But here are a couple things you really need to know. Many studies that find benefits of artificial sweeteners are compared to people consuming sugar. So for example, in the latest major study quoted that hit the headlines, and I quote, "For adults, the sweetener group had a 107-gram-per-day larger reduction in sugar-rich products than the sugar group." That idea that there are two options available to you to consume gobs of sugar versus artificial sweeteners is a false dichotomy that needs to be abolished. It's like saying I'd choose stubbing my toe over falling out a window. It's accurate, but I also don't want to stub my toe. Or to double-click on sucralose, which is in David Barr, one landmark study in cell metabolism from researchers at Yale found that sucralose, again in David Barr, when consumed with carbohydrates, increased insulin levels, impaired insulin sensitivity, so caused insulin resistance, and altered brain activity quite substantially. It was actually pretty scary. In fact, in this study, in a sub-study in adolescents, it was terminated early citing safety concerns. I'm just going back over this trial from Cell Metabolism, uh, the Yale trial, which I haven't looked at in years, and I'm just reading this section. Check this out. We reported that insulin resistance score, HOMA-IR, elevated from less than 3.5 to greater than 12.9. This elevation was driven by an increase in fasting blood plasma insulin levels. We reported this adverse event to the Human Investigations Committee, which recommended trial termination. Now, a nuance, an important nuance. Sucralose alone didn't do that. Carbs alone didn't either. But together they did. And this nuance matters. So if you're eating a David bar alone, only 4 grams of net carbs, based on these data, it's probably fine. But if you pair it with a banana, which is a snack I could see some people having, that combination starts to resemble the trial conditions that showed the metabolic impairment, the insulin resistance, the change in brain activity. So the real question is, the question I want you to ask yourself, is the risk worth it? Does the taste, we're gonna get to that in a moment, and the CFP flex of David Barr warrant sweeteners that while technically safe might have long-term effects we don't fully understand? They're certainly not necessary. And there are other concerns. Other studies show that artificial sweeteners can disrupt the microbiome to promote insulin resistance, which has been proven causal through human-to-mouse fecal transplant experiments. You can see this study for more if you're interested. And there are even data suggesting that aspartame, which is not in David Barr but is very common in Diet Coke, can cause anxiety and in a manner that is transgenerationally inheritable. You can't do that study in humans, but the fact that it happens in animals is remarkable and scary. So personally, when it comes to non-necessary additives, I'd rather not gamble when the evidence doesn't fully support that these are definitively safe, especially over the long term. So my call to action to you is simply to ask yourself these questions: What are you willing to gamble? Where do you want to place the burden of proof? And on David Barr, is "only what's necessary" truth or just legally permissive marketing? On to 4 now: the EPG controversy. This is the most controversial ingredient in David Barr. It's called esterified propoxylated glycerol, or EPG for short. EPG is a fat substitute. It provides only 0.7 calories per gram, which is 92% fewer calories than natural fats. This is how the David Barr keeps that nice texture, but boasts that ultra-high, insanely high CFP. But EPG can also cause digestive issues, some quite bad, and especially at higher intakes. There is a dose dependency. This is another possible contributor to those vivid Reddit experiences and Amazon reviews. Anyway, before we get to the real EPG controversy, which might not be what you expect, let me just explain how EPG is made. It begins with canola or rapeseed oil, which is then broken down into its core components: glycerol, which is the backbone of the fat, and the fatty acids. Then a propoxyl group is inserted as a synthetic bridge between them before the molecule is reassembled: the fatty acids, the propoxy bridge, and then the glycerol backbone, resulting in a pseudo-fat that resists digestion and absorption because our natural enzymes can't break down the molecule with that synthetic linker in the way. You can think of it like trying to open a can of soda, except somebody's put duct tape over the pull tab so you can't open it. As a quick little analogy to explain EPG, imagine this: is a normal fat. So what would normally happen is an enzyme, my finger, would open it up, open the pull tab. What EPG is like is like putting tape over the pull tab so that the enzymes that normally process the fat can't open it, can't access it, can't get it. So then it just passes right through you. Does that make sense? It's basically what EPG is. As for safety, EPG can cause gastrointestinal distress at higher amounts. We've reviewed that. However, I'm not aware of any research showing it to be actively harmful metabolically at typical consumption levels. There's speculation that it might interfere with the absorption of fat-soluble vitamins, which makes sense, but as far as I can tell, this doesn't appear to occur when consumed at standard doses, at least not in human randomized controlled trials. So I think that's a fair and important note if you're entertaining the David Bar. Again, my point here is not to tell you to buy it or not buy it. If you tolerate it symptomatically, I don't think there's a huge red flag of concern specifically from the EPG. Sucralose is another topic. Yet, the biggest controversy with EPG isn't actually nutritional, it's business-related. In a— strategic move, to be honest, the David Bar acquired Epigee, the sole producer of EPG, and then cut off supply to small companies using EPG in their products. And these businesses, many of which aren't even direct competitors of David, have filed an antitrust lawsuit. They're accusing David Barr of secretive acquisition and monopolization. What is David Barr's defense? These other companies failed to secure long-term supply deals. Paraphrasing, it's not our fault, it's your bad business mistake. The litigation is ongoing, and I'm not a lawyer, so I'm not going to speculate on the legality. Now, from an ethical standpoint, cutting off non-competitive small businesses without notice kind of raises a yellow flag in my brain, if not a red flag. That said, let's not pretend it wasn't smart. It was vertical integration. It was controlling their pipeline. It was cold, calculated, and business savvy. It might even buy Peter Rahal another Ferrari or two. Now, I'm not throwing shade. Once again, I'm pointing out the facts. What you choose to make of them is up to you. Anyway, that brings us from EPG finally to Chapter 5: The Taste Test and Final Thoughts. Let's start with salted peanut butter. Texture is kind of like slimy Play-Doh. It's kind of bland. 2 out of 10 max. I'm going to zoom through these and then give you my overall verdict. Okay, these weren't very good. I would give the salted peanut butter flavor and the cookie dough my lowest ratings, like a 2 out of 10 max. They just didn't have a nice texture. They weren't very sweet or satisfying. They felt like if you mixed Play-Doh with a whey protein powder and then ended in like little frozen boba balls or something. The best one, honestly, which I did not expect, was the blueberry pie flavor. It's a weird color, but I would give it a 4.5 out of 10, maybe a 5 out of 10. It wasn't horrible. It was tolerable. Uh, so there you have it. That's my winning flavor. But overall, kind of underwhelmed. Um, if they sit fine on your GI tract, I guess $3.25 is not a terrible price. And yeah, I also tried these before. They 100% mess with my gastrointestinal system. Okay, it's been about 6 hours since I had those bars, and honestly, they've caused a lot of bloating and GI distress. I won't give you the gory details, but I did find solace in this one review which hit my experience on the mark. It's pretty funny. Just as our enzymes can't process the EPG fat Frankenstein that makes these bars possible, neither can my toilet process the destruction left in the wake of their consumption. That's pretty good. Honestly, none of them were particularly enjoyable. Maybe you'll feel differently. In terms of cost, at $39 for a 12-pack, that works out to about $3.25 per bar before shipping. The price isn't outrageous, but I'd still rather get my protein from Whole Foods. Hard-boiled eggs, which are convenient and easily transportable, even though the CFP is lower, 0.34, I still think it's better nutritionally. Biltong, CFP 0.8, beats David Bar. If you haven't had it, Biltong has a higher CFP than David Barr. Also no shady ingredients, and this is not an ad, but I am South African, so I guess it's a conflict of interest. Parmesan cheese, low CFP, 0.26, but great in calcium, high in protein. Then you have things like sardines and canned salmon, also I think nutritionally better and convenient. And yes, I'd walk around with a piece of fish in a plastic bag or Tupperware before making David Barr part of my diet. Ironically, I'd even take RX Barr, with a lower CFP over David Barr. I think it has better taste, simpler ingredients, fewer unknowns. I think it's healthier. Honestly, I think David Barr is a nutritional downgrade from RX. But that's not the point. The David Barr is a brilliant success at marketing. It will make its creators and investors many millions of dollars. It's a calculated way to ride the protein maxing wave. Possibly the final evolutionary form of a trend that's reached logical extremes. But that's the point. When we fixate on one nutrient, this is what we get: a product built to dominate a metric, not nourish a human being. Whether that's progress or regression is up to you.
