Historian. Author. Ranter. Idea Junkie.
This a blog. Sort of. I rarely use it anymore.
The current issue of The Nation focuses on food. There's much to read and ponder (some of it from the usual suspects). The most worthwhile essay there --- worth, in my opinion, at least fifteen minutes of your time --- is this one by Brent Cunningham. He does as good a job as anyone yet to outline the nearly overwhelming complexities facing those who want to "change the world" one stomach at a time.
Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three
I’m not. I’m a historian who has chosen to write about a complicated, contentious issue. (Again, I was more or less oblivious to this “food fight” until I was well into the project.) I don’t know where the “story” will go.
Why? Because I’m still researching its contents and, like any historian, I let the facts guide me toward clarity and understanding. But I doubt it will be a “story” one that either side wants to hear. It’ll be too complex. It won’t toe the party line. It won’t conform to the mythology that is the underpinning of both sides’ arguments.
Hey, that’s the nature of real life: it’s complicated and it almost never fits into the either/or, black/white scenario that we’d like it to. That’s also the curse, and the blessing, of the historian’s work.
All this leads to an obvious question: When I’m finished with the book, will I have an opinion about the “food fight”?
Answer: Certainly. By then I’ll know something about the issues, ideas, and events that led to this moment in American history, and I’ll have enough facts to make an informed judgment about this debate and to take a stance on it.
Put another way, I’ll be a more educated, informed citizen. With luck, you’ll read my book and you, too, will have enough information to make your own judgment. And you, too, will be a more informed citizen. At least that’s my hope.
Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three
On one side are committed, passionate grassroots activists, many of whom are focused on what they regard as a "food crisis," for which they propose various solutions. (*1)
On the other side are people who produce the food. They're hindered in part by their own diversity: There is no single “farm” voice, no single “producer” voice, and as a result it’s hard for food producers to present a coherent defense of the attack on it. (*2)
On one side is a vehement offense ("modern farming is evil and so is corporate food"), on the other a disorganized, bewildered defense ("we're feeding the people of the world! how can we be evil?"), all of it spiced with hefty doses of glib, ignorant chatter that insult one side or the other. (*3)
Lost, and nearly invisible, in the middle are the hundreds of thousands of people --- chemists, biologists, agronomists, economists, etc. --- who have been studying issues of sustainability, global food production, and the like for decades. (I get the distinct impression that many of the antagonists on both sides are blissfully unaware of the history of the "sustainability" issue.)
These are people working in public and private institutions, working with farmers and food manufacturers alike. (Much of their research, it should be noted, is, in this country, taxpayer-funded.) Unfortunately, much of what they have to say is lost amidst the noise.
Result? The public discussion over the modern food system has become so politicized, and its participants so polarized, that people who learn that I'm writing a book about the history of meat assume that I must be "working" for one side or the other. That I intend to either defend big corporations, or write a diatribe against “factory meat.”
Not true. My “agenda” is simple: to explore what it means to be an American. “Meat” is simply a vehicle for doing so.
That’s it. That’s the beginning, the middle, and the end of my agenda. I’m not out to “get” one side or the other. I’m not assuming that one side is right and the other side is wrong.
I’m only interested in exploring the long view of the big picture. I’m trying to figure out “what happened” and why in hopes of furthering my understanding of who we are as a people and a nation. It’s what I did with my other three books. It’s what I do. It's what other historians do.
Sadly, some people don’t believe that. To this day, many “beer geeks” believe that one of the “corporate brewers” paid me to write the beer book. That’s not true, but since I didn’t toe the “party line” on the subject of beer (Big Beer is evil. Small Beer is saintly), it follows that I MUST be in the pay of the corporations.
Next: Where the historian and the debate finally meet
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*1: The phrase “food crisis” is itself interesting. It’s a loaded term --- akin to “pro choice” and “pro life” --- that is used to commandeer and define the terms of the debate.
*2: You’re thinking, “Wait! The “food establishment” is big corporations. Surely they can defend themselves.” Easier said than done. Big food corporations, for example, simply ignore the assault as not worth their time, leaving the troops on the ground --- farmers --- to defend themselves. Or, more typically, they aim toward more "ecologically correct" foods by mining all that research being carried out in universities and other laboratories.
*3: For a prime example, see this essay by Nicholas Kristof in a recent issue of the New York Times. It's been awhile since I've read anything quite so inane. No surprise, the many of the nation's hardworking farmers took offense.
Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three This three-part rumination is prompted by a comment from Tim Beauchamp, who blogs at Open Fermenter and who I follow on Twitter. (He provides excellent Twitter content, by the way. None of this “I’m at the grocery store now” crap from him!) For some reason, today he complimented me in a tweet and ended with:
She may be the Upton Sinclair Jr. of today. (*2)
I was touched by his sweet words in the rest of his tweet (modesty prevents me from including those), but --- I gotta say something about the “Upton Sinclair” business. (Tim, this is NOT an attack on you. No way, no how.) He inadvertently hit a nerve. And proved a point that I’ve been wanting to comment on:
That the current “food fight” has become so heated, so contentious that people assume that because I’m writing about meat, I must have an agenda.
So, Tim, thanks for prompting me to get busy writing a blog series that I’d been putting off. (The next beer’s on me.)
I’ve mentioned before, I’m writing a history of meat in modern America (c. 1870-1990). I spend most of my days digging through primary materials, hunting for information, trying to figure out “what happened” and then writing about what I learn.
But as part of my research, I’m also learning as much as I can about current agricultural issues, our existing food system, government food policies, and the like. That’s been an eye-opener. I had no idea how politicized these topics were.
Sure, I knew there were recurrent debates over, for example, farm subsidies. Over food tariffs and export quotes. Yes, I knew about the conflict unfolding here in the midwest over land use: Should large feedlots be allowed to exist? What kinds of controls ought to regulate their wastes? How can we reconcile the rights of homeowners with farmers?
I was, however, more-or-less oblivious to the other food fight: The one between the nation’s food producers --- farmers and manufacturers --- and the people who want to dismantle the existing food production system and replace it with one that is more “sustainable” (preferably more “organic”). (*3)
Next: My "agenda" __________
*1: No pun intended. Honest.
*2: Upton Sinclair was a committed socialist whose intent with The Jungle was the reveal the misery of factory working conditions. As he himself said (and I'm paraphrasing), he aimed for the nation's heart and accidentally hit its stomach.
*3: More accurately: I wasn't completely oblivious to the issues or the debate, but I sure didn't know how, um, heated it had become.
Coming up from "fishing" for a moment to pass on a link to this piece in Time magazine about the "food crisis." There's not much new here --- the analysis of both the problem and the possible solutions are both well-worn --- but this is Time, after all, about as mainstream a publication as there is and so no one ought to expect ground-breaking analysis.
And of course because it is so mainstream, the content is all, well, not glib exactly, but . . . not exactly textured either. Still, if you're not up on the "food fight" unfolding in many quarters these days, it's definitely worth a read. As far as I'm concerned, the money quote is this one:
A transition to more sustainable, smaller-scale production methods could even be possible without a loss in overall yield, as one survey from the University of Michigan suggested, but it would require far more farmworkers than we have today.
Hmmmm. Gee. Isn't that one reason that immigration is such a contentious issue? Because most Americans don't want to engage in manual or agricultural labor?
Indeed, that's part of my frustration with the "change the food system" folks: revamping the food system would require Americans to face up to the quandries of farm subsidies, private v. public good, export issues, land use issues, and the messy, contentious matter of immigration to boot.
As I've noted here before, the issues of the food system are extraordinarily complex. It's easy to say "Gee, let's all eat local and meet our farmers at the market every week and savor those heirloom veggies," --- and so so so difficult to figure out now to change a deeply entrenched system rooted in money, politics, and tradition, and turn entrenched cultural values on their heads (which, as a historian, I can tell you is no easy feat).
And still feed 250 million people (plus a few zillions others around the planet).
But, I digress. If you have time, read the article. You'll learn something about an important topic. Now: Back to fishing. (Tip o' the mug to Tom Laskawy at Beyond Green.)
As some of you know, I'm writing a history of meat in modern America ("modern" in this case meaning 1870-2000) so I try to stay current with what's what in the world of food and food politics. So naturally I read up on things like the "profood" movement. I inadvertently hurt some feelings with a Tweet I posted yesterday, and for that I apologize. (Frankly, it never occurred to me that anyone would actually READ the Tweet.) My tweet was as follows:
I have come to the conclusion that the "profood" people are, um, out of touch with reality.
The "profood" in this case refers to a group of people who advocate changes in the American food system. You can read more about it here. As near as I can tell, profood types are all about the "family farm" and sustainable foods and eating local. They also want better food, more "real" food served in, for example, hospitals and schools.
I admire their energy and agree with their general thrust: I hate the idea that the nation's schoolkids are eating crap every day. And I become almost unhinged every time I see an adult hand a two-year-old a coke or a bottle of "apple juice." (Which is mostly corn syrup.)
So I'm all in favor of eating well. (And if you read this blog, you know I practice what I preach.
And I'm also keenly aware that millions of people rely on "convenience" foods out of both choice and necessity.)
My problem with this "movement" is its simplistic approach to a complex problem. The profood people, inadvertently or intentionally, are demonizing the existing food system. As near as I can tell, they hope to achieve their goals in part by tossing the baby out with the bathwater, or, in this case, the entire existing food/farming system out with the foodproducer/farmer.
As one farmer said, they'd like to force him to live in the 19th century, while they get to live in the 21st. That won't work. There is no way "family farms" and "local foods" are going to feed 250 million people. No way. No how. (And that's only counting the people here in the US. There's also the matter of foods exported to other countries.)
But here's my biggest fear about "profood." They're (unintentionally) advocating what amounts to a two-tier food system. One system --- local, sustainable, organic, etc. --- for the rich. And "industrial" food for the rest of us. Because "local" food produced on "family farms" is expensive food.
And here's the brutal reality that seems to escape the profood people: Many Americans rely on "industrial" food to fill their stomachs because that's the food they can afford. They can't shop at the groovy local "coop" store (aka "health food store") and buy those four dollar quarts of "local" milk and those two dollar local tomatoes. Or those three dollar heads of organic kale.
Moreover, millions of working Americans can't take time to plant food and then can or process the harvests. Because, ya know, they're too busy working for a living.
That's what I mean when I wrote that some profood people are "out of touch with reality."
So I'm all "profood" and I favor changes in our food system --- but turning back the clock and/or creating a two-tier food system isn't the way to go. Put those carrots on the school lunch tray, please! But just know that the schools will only be able to pay for those carrots when the carrots are grown in the most efficient way possible: On a large "industrial" farm.
Otherwise, only a few will get carrots. And many will get none at all.
Website of Maureen Ogle, author and historian. Books include Ambitious Brew: The Story of American Beer; In Meat We Trust: An Unexpected History of Carnivore America; and Key West: History of An Island of Dreams.
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