As the holiday season approaches, many people look forward to gatherings, travel, and celebrations centered around food. For those living with food allergies, however, this time of year brings a different reality. It means navigating crowded parties where allergens are everywhere, traveling on airlines that may or may not honor allergy precautions, and repeatedly encountering people who still do not fully believe that food allergy is real or life-threatening. The joy of the season is often accompanied by heightened vigilance, anxiety, and the constant need to self-advocate in spaces that were not designed with food allergy safety in mind.

In my advocacy work, I have met far too many parents who have lost a loved one to food-induced anaphylaxis. One father shared with me how he held his 11-year-old son while they waited for paramedics after a reaction. He told me he felt the moment his son’s heart stopped. His child did not survive. That story, and so many others, have etched themselves into my heart. I cannot help but carry them with me. They shape my advocacy and the way I view the world.

For more than two decades, I have lived as the mother of a child with life-threatening food allergies. I live in a world where food is never casual and where a single exposure can become a medical emergency in minutes. This is why representations of food allergy in popular media matter so deeply.

Recently, a friend of mine whose child has multiple severe food allergies watched the Peacock miniseries All Her Fault with her teen daughter. She contacted me immediately afterward, shaken by what she had seen. What she described was not a careless joke or a moment of poor taste. It was the deliberate use of a food allergy as a method of murder.

In the final plot twist of the series, a major character is intentionally killed by exploiting his known food allergy. His epinephrine auto-injector is secretly switched for one that expired years earlier. The backup emergency kit is hidden. He is then deliberately exposed to his allergen after the killer consumes soy. He goes into anaphylaxis. He struggles to breathe. He dies.

This is clearly a planned act. What makes this particular portrayal especially disturbing is that the killing is not committed by a villain, but by a character where the murder is framed as justified. Even the show’s supposed moral compass (a principled investigator) looks the other way. There is no real inquiry, no charges, and no accountability. The death is treated as a tragic accident of food allergy, despite clear evidence of premeditation: hidden epinephrine, intentional exposure, and a carefully planned setup.

The message this sends is chilling: Kill someone with food, and the punishment may not fit the crime. We have already seen versions of this play out in real life. For teens and college students immersed in a culture of pranks and peer pressure, this kind of storyline risks becoming a dangerous blueprint.

I think of the Texas high school football player, Carter Mannon, whose teammates deliberately spread peanuts in his locker and on his clothes as a so-called joke. He was thankfully OK and has since become a fierce advocate, but his experience is a reminder that what some view as “entertainment” can become a medical emergency in seconds. At the time, the school dismissed the incident as an “innocent prank” and imposed a lackluster punishment that included no suspension and no marks on the offenders’ records. He has since switched school districts.

Part of my advocacy has focused on how food allergies are treated as a punchline in comedy. That was damaging enough. Now, with this thriller series, food allergy is being portrayed as a quiet, efficient, consequence-free method of violence.

What begins on screen does not remain on screen. Mockery and misinformation migrate into real life. I have written about cases where food allergies were deliberately weaponized in so-called pranks, where coworkers tricked employees into eating unsafe foods, and where bullying escalated into medical emergencies.

In one devastating case in the U.K., a young boy with a severe dairy allergy died after classmates flicked cheese at him as a joke. What others treated as a prank triggered fatal anaphylaxis. That child did not die from an accident. He died because a known medical vulnerability was mocked and deliberately exploited.

We already struggle against the belief that food allergy is exaggerated, that it is a preference rather than a disease, and that carrying epinephrine guarantees safety. We already fight to have accommodations taken seriously. When entertainment shows how deadly anaphylaxis can be and then, in the same breath, portrays how easily it can be manipulated to escape accountability, it sends a dangerously mixed message that both acknowledges the tragedy and instructs others in how to weaponize the disease.

Food allergies cut across political and personal divides, affecting people of every background and are increasing globally. While early introduction of allergenic foods appears to be reducing food allergy development, it is critical for the public to understand that this does not apply to the millions of children and adults who already live with food allergies. Early introduction is a prevention strategy, not a cure. And it does not necessarily offer protection to those who develop food allergies later in life, which happens more often than many realize.

This is not about criticizing entertainment for the sake of criticism. It is about recognizing how these portrayals intersect with food allergy safety in very real and potentially fatal ways. Those who care for patients with food allergies, educate young people, and shape public policy are uniquely positioned to help shift this narrative. Silence allows misinformation to harden into belief, and belief into behavior.

This is why education and accountability matter. We must normalize recognition and treatment of anaphylaxis. We must challenge dismissive portrayals when they appear. And we need those who treat patients with food allergies to add their voices when media gets this wrong.

We do not need stories that teach people how to exploit a medical vulnerability. We need stories that reflect reality and respect the lives at stake.

Food allergy is not a plot device. It is not a shortcut. And it is never harmless.

When entertainment turns a life-threatening disease into a weapon and then looks away, real people pay the price.

Lianne Mandelbaum is a leading advocate for airline safety measures to protect food-allergic passengers. As president of No Nut Traveler and airline correspondent for Allergic Living, she drives policy change by collecting testimonials from food-allergic families to share with lawmakers, media, and advocacy groups. She can be reached on X @nonuttraveler, Facebook, and LinkedIn.

A sought-after speaker and media source, Lianne participated in a Medscape panel on emergency medical kits on planes and contributed global data on airline travel and food allergies at the GA²LEN Anacare Anaphylaxis & Food Allergy Forum. Her travel tips were also featured by Stanford’s Sean N. Parker Center for Allergy Research. She also appeared on Bloomberg to discuss the challenges faced by food-allergic travelers and advocate for policy changes.

Her advocacy led to a Department of Transportation ruling recognizing food allergy as a disability. She co-designed a global air travel and food allergy survey with Northwestern University’s CFAAR, which was presented at AAAAI and published in The Journal of Allergy & Clinical Immunology. She is the co-author of “Understanding Experiences, Barriers, and Facilitators of Safe Airline Travel—A Global Survey of Food Allergy Patients and Caregivers” (The Journal of Allergy & Clinical Immunology). She also contributed to “10 Practical Priorities to Prevent and Manage Serious Allergic Reactions: GA²LEN ANACare and EFA Anaphylaxis Manifesto” (Clinical and Translational Allergy) and “Ever Treat a Patient on a Plane? Why Med Kits Need an Update” (Medscape). Additionally, she collaborated with stakeholders to include anaphylaxis and necessary medications in the FAA Reauthorization Act of 2024.