The Food Influencer Accountability Crisis Nobody's Talking About

Photo by Elevae Visuals

What Happens When Success Outpaces Accountability

Tieghan Gerard has built Half Baked Harvest into everything a food blogger dreams of: multiple New York Times bestselling cookbooks, millions of followers across platforms, lucrative brand partnerships spanning candle companies to meal delivery services. At 19, she started a food blog with her mom. Now in her early thirties, she's the blueprint for food blogging success.

But something alarming has been happening in my social media feeds: dietitian after dietitian—medical professionals trained to identify signs of malnutrition and disordered eating—have been posting videos expressing concern about Tieghan's appearance and content patterns. These aren't internet trolls or casual observers. These are healthcare professionals doing what they're trained to do: recognizing warning signs.

I didn't search for this content. The algorithm kept serving it to me. Video after video of registered dietitians raising the same concerns. And each time I saw one, I felt more uncomfortable—not with them for speaking up, but with myself for wanting to look away.

Here's the thing: Tieghan has been open about her anxiety. She regularly talks about how much she exercises, how she loves feeding other people, how much she wants to please her audience. She's also releasing a "healthy eating" cookbook. When you put all of these pieces together with medical professionals raising concerns, it becomes impossible to ignore.

This isn't about canceling Tieghan Gerard. This is about examining what responsibility looks like when you have influence, what happens when success outpaces accountability, and why the food industry needs to have harder conversations about the content we create and promote.

When Recipe Failures Become a Pattern

Here's something my improv teacher told me years ago that applies to every creative career: "It's okay to not know something once. It's not okay to not know it twice."

For years, Half Baked Harvest readers have reported the same problem: baked goods don't turn out. The culprit? Tieghan writes recipes at high altitude in Colorado, but most of her audience bakes at sea level.

When a New York Times reporter confronted her about this consistent feedback, her response was dismissive: "I'm not Google. How would I know what it's supposed to turn out like?"

But here's the thing—she doesn't need to be Google. She needs to be professional. High-altitude recipe adjustments are standard practice in cookbook publishing. Plenty of cookbook authors hire at-sea-level recipe testers for exactly this reason.

The issue isn't that mistakes happen. It's that when mistakes are pointed out repeatedly, year after year, cookbook after cookbook, and nothing changes—that's a choice. That's deciding your readers' experience doesn't matter enough to address.

The Martha Stewart Moment That Revealed Everything

During an appearance on Martha Stewart's podcast, Tieghan described a Thanksgiving technique she claimed to have invented: using cheesecloth soaked in wine for cooking turkey.

Martha's response was gentle but clear: "Honey, you didn't invent that. I did."

What struck me wasn't the mistake—it was the lack of curiosity. When you work in food and you don't know Martha Stewart's contributions, when you're openly disinterested in learning from other food professionals, when you claim invention without research... you're telling on yourself.

You're revealing that the work isn't actually about the food. It's about the brand.

When Professional Concern Becomes Necessary

None of the things above should be a reason to cancel Tieghan, but it is a pattern. The dismissiveness about audience comments and even fellow people in the cookbook space gives the impression that there’s not much anyone can offer Tieghan and Half Baked Harvest.

But then medical professionals started speaking up. Dietitians—not internet trolls, but trained professionals who identify malnutrition and disordered eating—began raising concerns about Tieghan's appearance and the messaging in her content.

She talks frequently about exercising extensively. About feeding others but not herself. About her upcoming "healthy eating" cookbook. These are patterns that concern medical experts.

And I realized: staying silent isn't protecting her privacy. It's protecting my comfort.

Because when someone has millions of followers and is excited to release health-focused content, and medical professionals are sounding the fog horns... saying nothing is also making a choice.

The Netflix Show That Changed My Perspective

Apple Cider Vinegar on Netflix tells the story of Belle Gibson, who built a massive following claiming to cure her cancer through food. She got a cookbook deal, influenced countless people—and later allegedly admitted she never had cancer.

The show also features a parallel story inspired by Jessica Ainscough (called Mila Blake in the series), who did have cancer and promoted alternative treatments like the Gerson Therapy instead of chemotherapy. She died when treatment came too late.

Both had cookbook deals. Both had massive influence. Both demonstrate what happens when we forget the gravity of what we do.

Food isn't neutral. Health advice isn't casual. When people believe us, when they follow our recipes and our lifestyle advice, we're responsible to a degree for what happens next.

What This Means for Your Creative Career

If you're building a cookbook platform, creating food content, growing an audience—this isn't meant to scare you. It's meant to prepare you.

Here's what you need:

People who will challenge you. Not yes-people. Not fans who agree with everything. Friends and colleagues who will say "Hey, that wasn't cool" or "I'm seeing these comments—should we address this?"

Willingness to learn. When readers point out issues, when cultural experts explain appropriation, when professionals offer corrections—receive it. Learn. Adjust.

Understanding of your influence. Once you have a book deal, millions of followers, brand partnerships—you're not an amateur anymore. You're a professional. Act like one.

The cookbook authors I admire most aren't the ones who never make mistakes. They're the ones who make mistakes, own them, and do better.

The Responsibility We Can't Escape

I don't know Tieghan Gerard personally. I don't know what's happening behind the scenes, what struggles she's facing, what conversations are happening with her team.

What I do know is this: when you have a platform, you have responsibility. When people listen to you, believe you, spend money on your books and follow your advice—you owe them care.

Not perfection. Not immunity from criticism. But care.

Care enough to fix recipes that don't work. Care enough to learn from other professionals. Care enough to listen when concerns are raised.

That's not cancel culture. That's accountability. And it's the price of admission for anyone who wants lasting success in this industry.

Your Next Step

Building a food platform isn't just about growing followers or landing book deals. It's about building something you can sustain—professionally, ethically, personally.

Before you chase the success, ask yourself: am I prepared for the responsibility that comes with it?

Because the answer to that question determines everything else.