What does a “model Food Future” Look like?

What does a “model food future” look like? This is a short question with a near-infinite list of possible answers. Faults with the current industrial food system are legion, although individual members within a certain community will disagree on exactly what those faults are. This is not to mention discrepancies between communities: a farmworker will have unique criticisms, as will a grocery chain owner, culturally myriad restaurateurs and food service workers, urban and rural eaters, young and old, east coast and west coast, etc. And these are only perspectives on the problems in our extant food system; bring up the question of how to address these problems and the multitudinous variety becomes nearly paralyzing.

              In order to attempt to wade through all the possibilities, we must first start with identifying some of the most common criticisms of the food system as it exists today. Many of these can be grouped under one umbrella: industrialism. Late nineteenth and early twentieth century technological advancements in food production such as the general mechanization of agriculture, the advent of factory farming, or refrigeration in the midst of exploding globalization revolutionized the modern food system. Food was able to be produced in previously unimaginable quantities, for lower prices. Refrigerated train cars and ships’ holds eliminated the need for eating seasonally, transporting exotic foodstuffs all over the globe. As a result of this massive industrialization on all levels, humans’ connection to food production—especially in “Western” or “Global North” nations—has become overwhelmingly limited to visits to the supermarket.

              As food became commodified in the modern economy, quantity, efficiency, and profitability have become the driving factors in its production. Nutritive quality, taste, and ethical standing have become sidelined in the name of producing more, faster. This “universal folly of the ‘fast life,’” as the Slow Food Manifesto puts it, has resulted in a proliferation of diseases of nutritional deficiency as well as eroded our capacity for the “quiet material pleasure” inherent in eating good food. (Portinari, 1989)

              It is thus clear that in order to remedy the ills of our food system, we must reconfigure the industrialized infrastructure as it currently exists. To do so, efforts must be concentrated on specific aspects of the system that result in specific pathological symptoms. For this, I turn to the Real Food Guide. The Real Food Challenge (RFC) is an organization that seeks to address food system reform on an institutional level. Focusing primarily on colleges/universities and hospitals, the RFC outlines specific guidelines with which to evaluate the food sourcing of a particular institution. Working groups from each campus evaluate their current standing, then set goals for what percentage of the food sourced is deemed “real.”

Four categories are used to reach this designation: 1) Local and community based, which examines how much food is coming from within 250 miles, produced by companies making under a certain amount in profits each year; 2) Fair, which tackles the human element of food production, evaluating the working conditions for the people who have produced a particular food item; 3) Ecologically sound, which evaluates the environmental impact of food production; and 4) Humane, which ensures that animals are having their “mental, physical, and behavioral needs met.” (Real Food Guide 2.1) A combination of certifications (USDA organic, Rainforest Alliance, etc.) and diligent research evaluate the institution’s food sourcing ingredient by ingredient, producing a figure that represents to what level the institution is engaging with food system reform work. Together, these categories address and evaluate the most problematic aspects of the industrial food system.

A “model food future” would presumably be one in which these criteria are consistently met. Put another way, if a significant percentage of the food you are regularly eating is given the “green light,” or considered “real” by these standards, then your individual food sourcing can be held up as a model for progressive engagement with the food system.

Notably, cultural identity is not a factor present in the Real Food Guide. The human element is certainly addressed in the emphasis on fair work practices, but in many ways these standards are not equitable. For example, let us consider a hypothetical case. Imagine a university whose express goal is to serve typically underserved new immigrant communities. The student body is largely comprised of either first or second generation immigrants, whose transnationality compels them to engage with both their native cultural identities as well as the values and popular dictates of the host country. The food available on campus reflects this multiplicity, with meal options made up of familiar and unfamiliar foods.

Now imagine that this university forms a working group and signs on with the Real Food Challenge, seeking to reach 20% “real” food within five years. Ingredient by ingredient, the working group will examine invoices and determine the state of their current institutional food system’s sourcing. If the school is lucky, it is located in an agriculturally lush region—and since this is a thought experiment, let us suppose this is the case. Foods like apples and oranges might be very likely to come from within 250 miles. If sufficient funds are available, this may even be the case for meat products. But what about the “exotic” ingredients used for the students’ traditional meals? Often, these can only come from thousands of miles away. If this is the case, the country of origin may not have sufficient infrastructure to provide agricultural workers and farm owners the means to procure certain certifications. Training on benevolent methods of animal husbandry might be difficult to come by. Proper environmental stewardship might not be a viable option for the small time farmers producing these foods.

In this scenario, the apple gets the green light, and the “exotic” ingredient does not. Eventually, the school determines that in order to reach the RFC goal of 20%, the institutional food system must eliminate many of the food items that bolster the transnational identity of its students. This is how the structural power dynamics of cultural identity play into the food system. Our particular hypothetical university may not exist, but the systems in discussion absolutely do. Transnational communities exist in pockets, often mostly interacting and living with those whose identities closely match. And though the region in which they live may be celebrated for its progressive food movements, this does nothing for the representation and general well-being of those communities.