In his book “Hungry Planet,” photographer Peter Menzel captured Cairo, Egypt’s Ahmed family surrounded by their weekly groceries: fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grains, meats and a handful of packaged items. The image is likely an odd one to most American eyes and Menzel’s photograph of a family in the United States points to a reason why. The bulk of weekly nutrition for the Revis family from the U.S. comes from boxes and plastic-wrapped parcels. Fruits and vegetables barely make an appearance.

According to the USDA and UN/FAO reports, households in lower-income countries spend as much as 50 percent of the family budget on food. But in higher-income countries like the United States, as little as 13 percent of the household income is earmarked for food. At first glance, this sounds like a good bottom line, but what is the true cost of cheap eats?

A trip to the grocery store, mini-mart, shopping mall or the briefest encounter with food advertising quickly reveals that we are surrounded by fat, salt and sugar laden “food-flavored” items. They’re ubiquitous, “convenient” and cheap — and exactly the foods any nutritionist would tell you not to eat. Ingesting more processed and refined goods can make you sick — that’s a fact. According to the American Institute of Cancer Research, diet now trumps smoking as contributing to most cases of cancer. As multi-nationals like Coca-Cola, Kraft and McDonald’s vie for global food dollars, cholesterol levels and cancer rates around the world are on the rise.

When the Ahmeds in Cairo eat their fresh vegetables, whole grains and fruits, they’re getting hundreds of nutrients — like plant-based antioxidants, vitamins, minerals and fiber — that protect them from illness. The Revis family, on the other hand, is a nutritional train-wreck.

The Ahmeds’ diet is “plant-based.” For them, meat may not be as cheap as in the U.S., so they most likely eat less of it. That’s a good thing. People in many parts of the world still rely on “natural” methods of raising animals for food: cows grazing in the pasture, chickens scratching in the yard — genteel images that we associate with Old MacDonald’s farm. But in the West, since the 1940s small-scale animal husbandry has been replaced by factory farming, a method of food production that places profit above all else.

Technologies used in factory farming allow producers to pass cost savings in production on to consumers. However, these costs are cut at great expense to animal welfare and the environment. Animals are kept in close confines, deprived of sunlight, fresh air and even room to turn around. They’re quickly fattened on diets of grains and animal byproducts that make them sick. Producers rely on pharmaceuticals to mitigate illness that the animals’ cramped conditions and poor treatment bring about. In fact, animal excrement must now be treated as toxic waste, as it poisons waterways and air quality. Because these commodities are cheap, people tend to eat more, increasing their risk of disease.

But that’s OK, right? Less money spent on food means more money for “discretionary goods,” like iPods, cars, new shoes and other blingy thingies. Never mind the hidden costs of cheap food, which affect the health of humans, animals and ecosystems.

It’s easy to make things better, so why don’t we? Learn about a plant-based diet at AICR.org. If you eat less meat, you can afford to buy the better quality organic, free-range or pasture-raised products. Get educated on how your food choices have wider social and environmental impacts (www.ifpri.org). Be a “food citizen” and voice your opinion to politicians and purveyors (centerforfoodsafety.org). Learn where food comes from and how it’s produced. Shop the Farmer’s Market and get to know the people who grow and raise food. Value good, quality food. Money talks, and consumer behaviors can send a strong message to food industries. It may require shifting some priorities (fewer blingy thingies?), but if health and well-being aren’t worth it, then what is?

Julia Lapp is an assistant professor of health promotion and physical education. E-mail her at jlapp@ithaca.edu. Wendy Hankle contributed to this piece.