A recent example: Amsterdam’s football club Ajax has partnered with Norwegian premium water supplier Novi8. In the Netherlands, high-quality tap water is readily available, tasty, safe and cheap. Presenting imported water as a meaningful upgrade for a Dutch football club is difficult to defend on any grounds. It is branding masquerading as value. Consumers are asked to believe that distance, exclusivity and packaging somehow make a basic necessity more desirable and healthy. The non-sensical claim this brand makes is that this particular water hydrates better.

Thanks Adriaan ter Braack for debunking this myth: https://www.trouw.nl/opinie/noors-water-voor-ajax-met-kraanwater-zijn-ze-beter-af~b3d588d3/ 

The same goes for the ice-cup trend now appearing in Dutch supermarkets. Selling a handful of ice cubes in a disposable plastic cup for around ninety cents is not a breakthrough in convenience, but a perfect example of overpackaging. The product monetises what people can make at home for almost nothing, while generating more plastic waste in the process. It reflects a retail logic in which any social media trend can be turned into a shelf item, regardless of whether it adds real value for consumers or causes damages for society. 

That matters because trust in the food system is already fragile. According to our ongoing trust research for EIT Food, consumers across Europe show only limited trust in food manufacturers, retailers and public authorities, while fewer than half say they know where to find reliable information about food. The research also underlines why this is such a problem: trust is a precondition for progress. Consumers are more likely to adopt innovation, accept new food technologies and act on credible nutritional information when they trust the actors or the system behind it. If companies flood the market with gimmicks and empty premiumisation, they make that trust gap wider. 

That is why companies such as Ajax and Albert Heijn should take their responsibility more seriously. Brands do not operate in a vacuum. They shape how consumers think about quality, necessity and credibility. If they endorse products that feel cynical, wasteful or plainly absurd, they should not be surprised when people become more sceptical of broader claims about health, sustainability or innovation. You cannot ask consumers to trust your messaging on meaningful change while simultaneously asking them to applaud nonsense. 

There is, however, another path. Supermarket chain Dirk offers a useful counterexample. By choosing not to participate in World Cup giveaway campaigns and promotional clutter, it signals restraint and respect for the customer. That decision stands out precisely because it resists the reflex to turn every major event into a sales carnival of disposable products. The public appreciation for that choice shows that consumers notice when a brand refuses to insult their intelligence. And that appreciation can translate into something far more valuable than a short-lived sales spike: sympathy, credibility and long-term brand trust. 

At a time when the food system needs public support for real innovation, from healthier products to more sustainable production methods, trust should be treated as a strategic asset. Not every viral idea deserves a place on the shelf. The food rebuilds trust by showing judgment, honesty and respect. In the end, that is not only better for society. It is better for business.