August 9, 2007:
The
End of Food begins with an indestructible tomato, a tomato
that cannot be smashed when thrown against a wall, ripened when
set on a windowsill, or eaten in any form with any pleasure. This
is a tomato as hard as a tennis ball—the perfect symbol of
everything wrong with today’s industrial food system. These
are tomatoes that are no longer real, but merely “shelf stable”
products.
Real tomatoes, like most real foods, are succulent, juicy, nutrient-dense
and splash open when bitten. The
End of Food is like a real tomato, so take care when indulging.
While you might get squirted with a bit of colorful language and
rhetoric, you will enjoy the experience. If you are a foodie, farmer,
agriculture writer or organizer, you will find tantalizing bytes
of “food for thought.” If you are new to food-systems
analysis, there is plenty here to persuade you of the evils of the
industrial food system without leaving you completely hopeless.
Tom Pawlick is an agriculture journalist and journalism professor,
original editor of Harrowsmith magazine, and present-day
organic farmer in Ontario. He has the bona fides, but if you prefer
that your reading material be dry and linear, you may find him a
little rich and meandering. Pawlick writes with the swagger of a
self-styled anarchist. He loves to tell tangential stories, and
seems to relish the swipes he takes at the corporate agenda.
Underneath the bellicosity, though, he does his research, arming
the reader with citations and resources. (He says Rodale Institute
publications are excellent.) Pawlick relies heavily on studies done
in Canada and the United Kingdom that are relevant to American readers
and trends because, according to the cover notes, “food production
lobbyists [in the United States] have fought hard against this kind
of research.” There is no index, a major weakness which should
be easily remedied in further print editions.
How bad can food get?
The first three chapters are devoted to the two main premises of
his End of Food thesis—that nutritional content of food is
declining and toxicity in food is increasing. In Chapter 4, “The
X files,” Pawlick states his thesis outright:
“It would be daunting… to try to plot the hundreds
of foods… and nutrients in them, mathematically on one graph.
If we could, these trends—declining nutrition and increasing
toxicity—would form an X and the point where the two trend
lines intersect, the crux of that X would be a point of no return,
the point where food has minimal nutritional value and serves
chiefly as a toxic poison, the point, literally, of the End of
Food. We are fast approaching such an intersection.” (p.79)
If you think this picture is too bleak, don't throw the book—like
a bad tomato—against the wall just yet. Read on. In the same
chapter, Pawlick provides a quick synopsis of the rise of industrial
agriculture based on “efficiency,” and the concomitant
decline of the family farm while delving briefly into the positive
impact of organic farming practices. Variables involved in food
production that can affect nutritional content are given emphasis,
such as variety, when to plant, how to harvest, how to process,
and storage methods. (p.96)
Tomatoes fit for machines
Using the tomato as both example and narrative object, Pawlick
takes us on an audit trail from seed to sale and explores the role
of industrialization in the diminution of food choices. He links
the dwindling number of tomato varieties grown to corporate labor
practices post-World War II. Large growers in California relied
on a pool of cheap immigrant labor and grew varieties that responded
well to being handpicked. In the 1960s, United Farm Workers of America
organized farm workers to demand fair wages. The grower companies
responded by researching and developing a mechanized harvester.
With mechanized harvesting, ripening must occur uniformly. Plant
breeders researched tougher, harder varieties (p.99) that were easier
to harvest mechanically without damage and traveled well during
shipping. These new varieties are picked at the “mature green
or breaker” phase—just when the red is starting to show
and artificially ripened in ethylene-producing “ripening rooms.”
All of these variables result in fewer overall varieties of tomatoes,
more of them tasteless and less nutrient- dense.
Pick a food, any food, Pawlick argues, and you will find trends
of industrialization that lead to decreased nutritional content
and increased toxicity. There are many factors that lead to increased
toxicity in industrialized foods, but pesticides, herbicides and
fungicides, play a major role. He quotes Cynthia Barstow, author
of The Eco-Foods Guide (p.107):
“..the use of conventional farm pesticides… increased
from about 400 million pounds in the mid-1960s to nearly 850 million
pounds around 1980, primarily because of widespread adoption of
herbicides in crop production. Since that time usage has decreased
somewhat, ranging from a low of 658 million pounds in 1987 to
806 million pounds in 1996.”
So I am half-way through the book and my palate is hungering for
something more positive and tasty—when am I going to hear
the good news? Not yet, it seems. In Chapter 5, “Collateral
Damage,” I read about more undesirable impacts of industrial
farming:
“…pollution, soil degradation, wildlife habitat
destruction, waste of fresh water resources, loss of biodiversity
and threats posed by introduced or “exotic” species
including those produced via... gene manipulation.” (p.124)
And in Chapter 6, he jumps to Stalin’s collectivization of
the rural farming class. Pawlick alleges that thousands of farmers
were shot or arrested as enemies of the Bolshevik revolution’s
objective to organize society on a mass production basis. He parallels
Stalin’s purges with the similar – albeit less brutal
– fate of North America’s family farms, subsumed by
the industrial model. In sum, vertical integration, international
trade agreements and lack of market choices have resulted in ”Dark
Satanic Barns.”
Okay, enough of “How industry is destroying our food supply.”
I fear that more delicate readers may despair before arriving at
the chapter on solutions to the world of bad food Pawlick has described
so well. The first and simplest “act of subversion,”
I am happy to report, is to “Plant a garden.” (p.185).
Save seed, make your own preserves, grind your own flour, dry and
store herbs. If you can, branch out to community gardens, and if
you can't grow enough of your own food yourself, then buy at CSAs
and farmers markets.
Tilting at windmills?
But can home gardening and local buying alone overthrow the evil
empire? Pawlick says that by its very nature, the industrial food
system cannot be reformed to produce healthy food. Short-term maximum
profits supersede food quality.
Pawlick believes that grassroots campaigns—against GMOs for
example, and the incredible success of food communities like Slow
Food—have influence on the local, national and international
level.
Pawlick ends where he begins: with the tomato and with the Slow
Food movement, launched in Italy, “home of the world’s
best pasta, tomatoes and red wines…Food is international,
universal, but at the same time ought to be intensely local and
individual, like the human beings who produce it.” (p. 219-220)
With all the build-up about the destruction of food, I expected
more dramatic solutions. The solutions section is disappointing
and a bit of a damp squib. “How tos” and organizing
tips would be most welcome, such as how to organize local groups
or single-issue campaigns, set short-term and long-term strategic
goals, or how to advocate effectively.
If The
End of Food was really half about seeking solutions, half
of it—not a slim quarter—should have been devoted to
building a better food system. Even if he is short on answers, Pawlick
sounds the call to action well when he says: “We need to take
back control of our own food supply, our own meals, and our own
humanity.” (p221)
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