There was an interesting op-ed in the New York Times on Monday that questioned the validity of judging food by its miles. I felt my hackles start to rise around the third paragraph, and I began to suspect it was a rant against the Eat Local movement (probably written by a big business shill). As it turns out, the author is a "passionate cohort" of Eat Local advocates. He asks
himself, "But is reducing food miles necessarily good for the environment?" He cites a study that shows it's four times more energy efficient for Brits to eat imported New Zealand lamb than it is to eat local British lamb.
I'll bet the lamb (and Peter Singer's Bangladeshi rice) are the exception, not the rule. I'm not giving up on my local food any time soon. Environmental benefits aside, there are many reasons to eat food produced locally (as the author, James McWilliams, acknowledges).
What I like about the op-ed is that it points out something that has been bothering me about the Eat Local movement for a while: when it comes to making good choices, eating locally produced food is only one piece of a much bigger picture, but sometimes we fixate on the local. This invites criticism from those who think the locavore diet is rigid or narrow-minded or even silly. For me, food miles are a convenient measurement. Like choosing organic, eating local is a way to opt out of the overpackaged, heavily processed, nutrient bereft, anonymous, pesticide laden, genetically engineered, multinational, unpronounceable, so-called food that's common these days. I know local is not the only answer, but it's a worthy touchstone. When I choose something local, I'm usually also choosing something fresh and flavorful, grown by a local family farmer.
But local is not the best choice 100% of the time. For example, last May during the Eat Local Challenge I ate some apples that were locally grown but had been in cold storage for at least six months. I ate them because I could, according to the rules of the game we set out to play, but they weren't very environmentally friendly, nor very fresh!
When I was at the Eco-Farm conference in January, I heard Gary Paul Nabhan, one of my local eating heroes, speak about food miles. The essential point of his talk was that it's not just about eating local; it's about eating what is appropriate for the place. I sometimes ask myself what that means for me in northern California. Just because we CAN grow ________ (fill in the blank--rice, corn, hothouse tomatoes,...) should we? And if we decide that we shouldn't grow it, is it OK to import it from its native place?
Our food system is so overwhelmingly complex, and it's really hard to get good information about where our food comes from. Heck, one guy wrote a whole book about what's in a twinkie! It's no wonder we simplify things into soundbites like "Eat local" or "Choose organic" or "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." For me, being a locavore is a way to keep my choices manageable while being as true to my values as possible. Every day, I feel disappointed that my culture, economic system, and government are not how I would like them to be, and I feel frustrated that I don't (or think I don't) have the power to make the sweeping changes I believe are necessary. What I really want is food that was grown locally on a small farm by someone I know who pays her (his) workers fairly and treats them well. I want the people that produce my food (and everything I consume, for that matter) to run their businesses as though the earth is equally as important as people and money. I want my food to be produced using only renewable resources and natural, nontoxic substances and I want the process to generate no waste and use minimal energy, and while we're at it, I'd like the production process to actually create some kind of environmental benefit and social benefits as well. This is a lot to ask. It might cost a bazillion dollars under our current system. But at the very least I wish there were more transparency. I wish I could know more about what I'm buying and who profits from it and who suffered for it so I can make conscious choices about what I actually need.
So when I can't find the perfect thing, I'll stick with Eating Local. It's easier to explain. But I still wonder whether, if I don't explain the rest, I am selling the movement short. Am I making it look like a trend or a gimmick, instead of a powerful movement toward a vibrant food system? And if so, how can I communicate the broader vision without making people lose interest, or worse, roll their eyes and snort at me?
I hope that nobody gives up on the Eat Local movement just because food miles are an incomplete way to measure our food's environmental footprint. I hope we will keep doing what we're doing, and expand in new directions. Let's be willing to tear down our own thinking, if necessary, and rebuild it in a better way. And let's be open to what's next.
I don't have the right answers, but I always admire those who are asking the hard questions. I think it's healthy to challenge our own closely held beliefs. I think we will come out stronger for it.
On that note, check this out--but only if you are willing to dangle your paradigm out the window.
TimesOnline article: "Organic farmers face ruin as rich nations agonise over food miles"
Julie Cummins lives in Oakland, CA and is Director of Education for the Center for Urban Education about Sustainable Agriculture (CUESA).
