I stepped carefully around the display of miracle supplements, each bottle promising to reverse diabetes “naturally and permanently.” The health food store in downtown Vancouver buzzed with shoppers, many pausing to examine these products with hopeful expressions. The store employee approached, sensing my interest.
“That one’s our most popular,” she pointed to a $79 bottle of herbs. “We can barely keep it in stock. People say it’s better than insulin.”
As someone who has reported on health misinformation for over a decade, I felt that familiar twist in my stomach. This wasn’t just dubious marketing—it was potentially life-threatening advice.
Across Canada, healthcare providers are reporting an alarming rise in patients abandoning prescribed treatments for diabetes after encountering misleading information online and in wellness spaces. What began as isolated cases has evolved into what doctors are now calling a public health crisis.
“I’m seeing at least three patients weekly who have stopped their insulin because of something they saw on social media,” says Dr. Maya Srivastava, an endocrinologist at Vancouver General Hospital. “Five years ago, this was rare. Now it’s epidemic.”
The misinformation landscape surrounding diabetes has grown increasingly sophisticated and targeted. Gone are the days of obvious scams. Today’s misleading content often comes wrapped in scientific-sounding language, compelling personal testimonials, and slick production values that can confuse even healthcare professionals.
Walking through Kitsilano last month, I counted four storefronts advertising “diabetes reversal programs” with testimonials from supposed patients who had “thrown away their insulin.” On TikTok and Instagram, dozens of Canadian influencers promote unproven supplements with claims that traditional diabetes management is a “Big Pharma conspiracy.”
For Janet Kraemer, 67, from Burnaby, the consequences were nearly fatal. After following advice from a popular wellness podcast suggesting that bitter melon extract could replace her diabetes medication, she experienced diabetic ketoacidosis and spent five days in intensive care.
“I consider myself an educated person,” Kraemer told me from her living room, surrounded by family photos. “But the way they presented it—with doctors in white coats and scientific charts—it seemed legitimate. They made me feel empowered, like I was taking control instead of being dependent on pharmaceuticals.”
The Canadian Diabetes Association estimates that exposure to misinformation has influenced treatment decisions for approximately 30% of Canadians living with diabetes. This represents nearly one million people potentially at risk.
The problem has deep roots in legitimate frustrations with healthcare access. Canada’s strained medical system means many patients face long waits for specialist appointments and limited time with overworked providers. A 2022 study by the University of British Columbia found that the average diabetes education session lasts just 18 minutes—hardly enough time to address complex questions or concerns.
“People turn to alternative sources when the healthcare system doesn’t meet their needs,” explains Dr. Samantha Torres, a public health researcher at Simon Fraser University. “When someone spends hours watching videos that validate their fears or offer simple solutions, that can be more compelling than a rushed 15-minute appointment with an overworked doctor.”
The financial burden of diabetes management creates additional vulnerability. Insulin costs have risen dramatically over the past decade, with some Canadians paying up to $3,000 annually out-of-pocket despite universal healthcare. For patients struggling with these expenses, promises of cheaper alternatives can be irresistible.
Indigenous communities face particular challenges with diabetes misinformation. The prevalence of diabetes is three to five times higher among First Nations populations compared to non-Indigenous Canadians, according to Health Canada. This disparity has created a market for predatory messaging specifically targeting these communities.
“We’re seeing companies using language about ‘returning to traditional healing’ to sell unproven products to our people,” says Leanne Bear, a diabetes educator with the First Nations Health Authority. “They appropriate Indigenous medicine concepts but offer products that have nothing to do with traditional knowledge or practices.”
The misinformation crisis extends beyond supplements to include dangerous advice about diet. The “diabetes elimination diet,” which has gained popularity on social media, encourages patients to consume nothing but specific fruit juices for up to two weeks—a potentially dangerous protocol for anyone with blood sugar management issues.
Health Canada has issued warnings about several diabetes “cure” products in the past year, including seizures of unlicensed medications at the border. But regulators struggle to keep pace with the evolving tactics of those spreading misinformation.
“By the time we can investigate one product, the same people have launched three more under different names,” explains regulatory spokesperson Christine Beaumont. “They change ingredients slightly or rebrand entirely.”
Some healthcare providers are finding creative ways to counter the tide of misinformation. At Vancouver’s Diabetes Education Centre, nurse practitioners now begin each session by asking patients what they’ve heard about diabetes online or from friends.
“We validate their concerns first,” says Margot Chen, the centre’s director. “Just dismissing misinformation as ‘fake news’ doesn’t work. We need to understand why certain messages resonate and address the underlying fears or hopes.”
Digital literacy programs specifically focused on health information are showing promise. A pilot program in British Columbia schools teaches students to evaluate health claims using simple principles of evidence assessment. Early results suggest improvements in students’ ability to identify misleading health information.
For those already living with diabetes, peer support networks offer an evidence-based alternative to misinformation. Diabetes Canada has expanded its community ambassador program, training people with diabetes to provide accurate information in their communities.
“The most powerful counter to a compelling but false story is an equally compelling true one,” says Chris Hansen, who leads the ambassador program. “When someone who looks like you, with the same condition, shares their real experience with evidence-based management, that resonates differently than warnings from authorities.”
Walking back to my office from that health food store, I passed a community centre where a diabetes support group was meeting. Through the window, I could see about a dozen people of various ages engaged in animated conversation. A whiteboard displayed the evening’s topic: “Separating Fact from Fiction: Navigating Diabetes Information.”
As misinformation continues to evolve, so too must our responses. The solution won’t come solely from regulators or medical professionals, but from communities empowered with the tools to recognize and resist harmful health myths. For the one in three Canadians living with diabetes or prediabetes, this is not merely an academic concern—it’s a matter of life and death.
