Does no added sugar mean healthy?

A carton on my table says no added sugar. I read it as a promise. The drink is good for me. I bought it for that reason. Then I turned the carton round and read the panel. The two sides did not agree.

I use the five moves on the phrase. I do not end with a verdict on juice. I end with a question you can ask in the aisle.

The label makes a narrow claim. Nobody put sugar in during making. Where the phrase is regulated, that is close to what it means.

The claim I heard was wider. This drink is healthy. The label never said that. My head did.

So I have two claims. The label’s claim is about the process. My claim is about my body. The first can be checked on the carton. The second cannot. I will test my claim, because that is the one that made me buy.

My claim stands on at least three unspoken things.

Assumption one: added sugar is the only sugar that counts

Fruit carries sugar of its own. Squeeze an orange and the sugar comes with the juice. The phrase says nothing about that sugar. I assumed it did.

Assumption two: one line sums up a food

The front of a carton gives one phrase. The back gives a table. I let the phrase stand in for the table. A single line can be true and still leave out the number that matters.

Assumption three: healthy means low sugar

Even if the drink had little sugar, healthy is a larger word. It takes in what else is in the glass, how much I drink and what I drink instead. I folded all of that into one phrase.

Any of the three could be wrong. If so, my claim falls.

I run one chain. I start with my claim and keep asking why.

• The drink is healthy. Why? Because it has no added sugar.
• Why does that matter? Because sugar is what I am trying to cut.
• Why would added sugar differ from the fruit’s own sugar? In the glass they are the same kinds of molecules.
• Why would the body care where a sugar came from? That is where I stop.

I stop because the last link turns on chemistry, not on labels. The sugars in juice are the sugars in table sugar: glucose, fructose and sucrose. Whole fruit slows them down with fibre. Pressing squeezes most of the fibre out. Both statements sit in any school textbook.

Notice what the chain shows. The phrase is about the factory. My worry was about my body. The chain never passed through the factory.

I set the phrase aside and keep what I can check.

• The panel lists total sugars per 100 ml. That number includes the fruit’s own sugar.
• My glass holds about 250 ml. Multiplying is arithmetic I can do at the table.
• Say the panel reads 9 grams per 100 ml. Then my glass carries about 22 grams. Yours will read something close. Check it.
• A teaspoon of sugar weighs about 4 grams. So that glass is five teaspoons, give or take.
• The phrase on the front changes none of these numbers.

From these I can build a smaller claim. This glass gives me about five teaspoons of sugar, whatever the front says. That is a claim about my glass. I can act on it.

I cannot rebuild the bigger claim. Whether five teaspoons in a glass is fine for me depends on the rest of my day. That needs a record of what I eat, not a label. I do not have it. I will not pretend to.

Now I attack the rebuild.

What if the drink has far less sugar than my guess? Then the panel says so and the arithmetic gives a smaller number. The method holds. Only the number moves.

What if sugar from fruit juice is better for me than the same sugar from a bag? Once pressed, the sugars are the same molecules. What differs is what travels with them. Juice keeps some vitamins and loses most of the fibre. That is a reason to prefer juice over a fizzy drink. It is not a reason to call it healthy.

What if the phrase helps anyway? It does. A drink with no added sugar has less sugar than the same drink with sugar added. The phrase is a fair comparison between two cartons. It fails only when I read it as a verdict on one.

The rebuild survives. It gives me a number per glass. It refuses to give me a verdict.

The label’s question is whether sugar was added. My question was whether the drink is healthy. Neither is the useful one.

I would ask this instead. How much sugar is in my glass? What would I drink in its place?

Both parts have a test you can run in the aisle. Turn the carton. Find total sugars per 100 ml. Multiply by your glass. Then hold the number against the water, the milk or the fizzy drink you would otherwise pour.

I hold this view loosely. Here is what would move me.

• Evidence that the body treats sugar from pressed fruit differently from the same sugar in a bag, at the same dose. Then juice would earn more credit.
• A label scheme that puts the per-glass number on the front. Then the phrase would matter less.
• A case where reading the phrase alone led someone to a better choice than reading the panel. I would like to see one.
• A sign that I am the only person who hears healthy when the carton says no added sugar. Then this breakdown is about me, not the label.

If you know of well-made work on any of these, bring it here. I will read it and say what I find.

1. Which phrase on a package do you read as a verdict? What does the panel say?
2. Pick one drink you buy for health. What does one glass carry, in teaspoons?
3. What is one label claim you now ignore on purpose?