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Food in a Just World examines the violence, social breakdown, and environmental consequences of our global system of food production, distribution, and consumption, where each step of the process is built on some form of exploitation. While highlighting the broken system’s continuities from European colonialism, the authors argue that the seeds of resilience, resistance, and inclusive cultural resurgence are already being reflected in the day-to-day actions of communities around the world. Calling for urgent change, the book looks at how genuine democracy would give individuals and communities meaningful control over the decisions that impact their lives when seeking to secure humanely this most basic human need.
Drawing on the perspectives of advocates, activists, workers, researchers, and policymakers, Harris and Gibbs explore the politics of food in the context of capitalist globalization and the climate crisis, uncovering the complexities in our relationships with one another, with other animals, and with the natural world.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
Cover
Dedication
Title Page
Copyright Page
Detailed Contents
Acknowledgments
Preface
Our Research Approach
Introduction
Notes
Chapter 1: Food Justice Needs a Just World: Confronting Structural Violence against Land, Humans, and Nonhuman Animals
Climate Change and our Relationship to the Land
Earth Democracy and the Democracy of Species
Responding to Structural Violence through “Big C” Compassion
Interdependence as a Framework for Advocacy and Social Protest
Situating Our Relationship to the Land and Other Species within the Law
The Logic of Capital
Corporate Dependency
Towards a Vision of Radical Democracy based in “Big C” Compassion
Neoliberalism and the Myth of “Development”
The Rights of Future Generations
Where Do We Go from Here?
Chapter 2: Capitalist Dreams and Nightmares: Food Systems, the Animal-Industrial Complex, and Climate Disruption
Denial as the First Stage of Grief
The Relationship between Human Rights Protection, Peace, and Food Justice
From Grief and Denial to Confronting Systems
Dominion over the Land
The Violence of a Hamburger and Chicken Nuggets …
Recovering from the Green Revolution
The Plant-Based Treaty: Moving Toward a Global Shift in Culture?
Chapter 3: Working in Hell: Labor in the Industrial Production of Animals as Food
Labor in the Animal-Industrial Complex, COVID-19, and the Logic of Capital
The Health and Demographics of Workers
Compartmentalization of Human Work Facilitates De-animalization
Dirty Work and Slow Violence
“That shit will fuck you up for real”
The Spillover Effect
Deskilling and the “Entanglements of Oppression”
Recognizing Animals’ Labor
Transparency and Beyond: Cultivating Empathy?
Resistance and the Beginning of a Just Transition
Chapter 4: What If We Really Are What We Eat?: Challenging a Colonial-Capitalist Diet
The Right to Food: Availability, Accessibility, and Adequacy
The Issues with Overconsumption and Underconsumption
Deconstructing the “Ideal” Body
Building Community and Social Infrastructure
From Food Insecurity to Food Justice
Zoonotic Diseases: How We Treat Other Animals Comes Back to Haunt Us
Foodborne and Prion Diseases
Influenza
An Incremental Shift to a Compassionate Food Future
Food as Political: Resistance Is Not Futile
Transparency and Beyond
Chapter 5: The Upside Down: The Hidden World of Nonhuman Animals as Food
The Upside Down: Speciesism in Action
Why We Don’t Know What We Don’t Know
Individual Abuses and Standard Industry Practices
Happy Meat?
Turning the World Right-Side Up: Recognizing Nonhuman Animals for Who They Are
Chapter 6: Towards a Compassionate Food System
Radical Democracy?
How Do We Initiate Positive Change? From Paradigm Shifts to Building Community
Paradigm Shift
Community Building
Initiating Effective Change
Sorting Out the Politics: Short and Long Term
The Art of Transparency
Radical Democracy and the Precautionary Principle
The Importance of Joy and Gratitude
Conclusion: Toward the Compassionate World
Methods
Appendix
Research Participant Biographies
References
Index
End User License Agreement
Cover
Table of Contents
Begin Reading
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We would like to dedicate this book to our children and all future generations of humans and other animals who will inherit this planet. May we leave a legacy of resilience and compassion. All my relations.
TRACEY HARRIS & TERRY GIBBS
polity
Copyright © Tracey Harris and Terry Gibbs 2024
The right of Tracey Harris and Terry Gibbs to be identified as Authors of this Work has been asserted in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2024 by Polity Press
Polity Press
65 Bridge Street
Cambridge CB2 1UR, UK
Polity Press
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Hoboken, NJ 07030, USA
All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purpose of criticism and review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 978-1-5095-5401-0
ISBN-13: 978-1-5095-5402-7(pb)
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023936995
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The publisher has used its best endeavours to ensure that the URLs for external websites referred to in this book are correct and active at the time of going to press. However, the publisher has no responsibility for the websites and can make no guarantee that a site will remain live or that the content is or will remain appropriate.
Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders, but if any have been overlooked the publisher will be pleased to include any necessary credits in any subsequent reprint or edition.
For further information on Polity, visit our website: politybooks.com
Acknowledgments
Preface
Introduction
Chapter 1: Food Justice Needs a Just World: Confronting Structural Violence against Land, Humans, and Nonhuman Animals
Climate Change and our Relationship to the Land
Earth Democracy and the Democracy of Species
Responding to Structural Violence through “Big C” Compassion
Interdependence as a Framework for Advocacy and Social Protest
Situating Our Relationship to the Land and Other Species within the Law
The Logic of Capital
Corporate Dependency
Towards a Vision of Radical Democracy based in “Big C” Compassion
Neoliberalism and the Myth of “Development”
The Rights of Future Generations
Where Do We Go from Here?
Chapter 2: Capitalist Dreams and Nightmares: Food Systems, the Animal-Industrial Complex, and Climate Disruption
Denial as the First Stage of Grief
The Relationship between Human Rights Protection, Peace, and Food Justice
From Grief and Denial to Confronting Systems
Dominion over the Land
The Violence of a Hamburger and Chicken Nuggets …
Recovering from the Green Revolution
The Plant-Based Treaty: Moving Toward a Global Shift in Culture?
Chapter 3: Working in Hell: Labor in the Industrial Production of Animals as Food
Labor in the Animal-Industrial Complex, COVID-19, and the Logic of Capital
The Health and Demographics of Workers
Compartmentalization of Human Work Facilitates De-animalization
Dirty Work and Slow Violence
“That shit will fuck you up for real”
The Spillover Effect
Deskilling and the “Entanglements of Oppression”
Recognizing Animals’ Labor
Transparency and Beyond: Cultivating Empathy?
Resistance and the Beginning of a Just Transition
Chapter 4: What If We Really Are What We Eat?: Challenging a Colonial-Capitalist Diet
The Right to Food: Availability, Accessibility, and Adequacy
The Issues with Overconsumption and Underconsumption
Deconstructing the “Ideal” Body
Building Community and Social Infrastructure
From Food Insecurity to Food Justice
Zoonotic Diseases: How We Treat Other Animals Comes Back to Haunt Us
An Incremental Shift to a Compassionate Food Future
Food as Political: Resistance Is Not Futile
Transparency and Beyond
Chapter 5: The Upside Down: The Hidden World of Nonhuman Animals as Food
The Upside Down: Speciesism in Action
Why We Don’t Know What We Don’t Know
Individual Abuses and Standard Industry Practices
Happy Meat?
Turning the World Right-Side Up: Recognizing Nonhuman Animals for Who They Are
Chapter 6: Towards a Compassionate Food System
Radical Democracy?
How Do We Initiate Positive Change? From Paradigm Shifts to Building Community
Sorting Out the Politics: Short and Long Term
The Art of Transparency
Radical Democracy and the Precautionary Principle
The Importance of Joy and Gratitude
Conclusion: Toward the Compassionate World
Methods
Appendix
References
Index
First and foremost, we would like to thank all the other species with whom we share this planet and whose presence in the world touches every aspect of our lives. We would also like to thank all those who work tirelessly to defend the rights of other species and those of mother nature herself; those who write and research, those engaged in activism and advocacy, and those engaged in both. We honor those contributing to positive change in their communities often with intense emotional labor and sometimes with great risk. We draw on numerous examples of these dedicated individuals, many cited, and some interviewed for this book. We offer a heartfelt thank you to each of our 28 interview participants who are engaged in incredible work in the places they find themselves. What a great pleasure and learning experience it has been to work with them. We also feel so much gratitude for Elder Albert Marshall who has been a constant source of inspiration. He moves in the world with a resilience and compassion that is almost unfathomable. His friendship, guidance and support have meant the world to us.
There are too many colleagues, friends, and family to name who have supported us in the journey of writing this book, but we would like to acknowledge Zabrina Downton and Eli Quirk, Amber and Sadie Buchanan, Nicky Duenkel and Judy Pratt, Carol Smith, Andrea Donato, Julie Hearn, Carolyn Claire, Kirby Evans, and Pema Chödrön for many discussions, shared meals, tears, laughter, texts, letters, and ongoing support. Our research assistant Ashleigh Long worked tirelessly with us throughout this entire project. Her work was exceptional, and we are so grateful for her support, patience, and openness in this long process. Her support was made possible through generous funding from Cape Breton University. Thank you to Sandi Maxwell who brought her superb editing skills to assist us in polishing our final manuscript. We also extend thanks to our colleagues in the Department of L’nu, Political, and Social Studies and the School of Arts and Social Sciences at Cape Breton University for providing a collegial and supportive context for writing this kind of book.
We are particularly grateful to our fastidious and insightful readers: Erin Gibbs, Garry Leech, Zabrina Downton, Kirby Evans, Stephen Harris, Dana Mount, and Joe Parish who generously carved out space in their busy lives to dedicate to the final stages of this project. Thank you to the reviewers who provided feedback on early drafts of the chapters. We would also like to thank the team at Polity Press, particularly Jonathan Skerrett, Senior Commissioning Editor, for his support and patience, and ultimately for his faith in this rather large and unorthodox project! We also appreciate the work of Karina Jákupsdóttir and Ian Tuttle who have been supporting the editorial process in the background.
We are extremely grateful to Marie Battiste who generously shared her knowledge with us and provided guidance and advice on the use of language and syntax, particularly as they relate to Indigenous Peoples and other equity-deserving groups. Marie also offered thoughtful input on questions to consider with regard to writing on issues related to Indigenous Peoples more generally. We hope we have respectfully and adequately reflected this input and spirit in our book. Any errors or misunderstandings that remain are entirely the responsibility of the authors.
Last, but certainly not least, we must acknowledge the patience, love, and unending support of our beautiful partners, children, and companion animals: Stephen and Olivia Harris, Ashley and Bella; Garry Leech, Owen and Morgan Gibbs Leech, Johan Gallardo, and Shadow: we know we are not easy to live with!
This book draws on many years of research and each of us, as co-authors, brings our own areas of specialization to the broad theme of food in a just world. It is important to be upfront about these experiences and we have attempted throughout this methodological process, and throughout the book itself, to “apply a critical reflexivity to [this] research process” as we “engage in a deep questioning” of ourselves as researchers, and how our own backgrounds, identities, and experiences influence the research project and research findings (Tilley 2016: 13).
Terry Gibbs is a professor of international politics with a focus on social justice and critical globalization studies. While her past research has examined human rights, social justice movements, and democratic practice in the context of economic globalization, she has recently explored the structural implications of systems more broadly by including both nonhuman animals and nature into her framework. In addition to her ongoing solidarity work with social justice and human rights movements in Latin America, she is also engaged locally in Cape Breton/Unama’ki, Canada, with various community projects related to decolonization, the food movement, climate change, and mental health. Tracey Harris is an associate professor of sociology with a focus on critical reflections on the relationship between humans and other animals, sustainable housing, consumer culture, environmental sociology, and qualitative research methodology.
Together, with our colleague Richard Keshen, who teaches philosophy at Cape Breton Universty, we co-founded the Animal Ethics Project, which promotes education and advocacy on issues related to human relationships with other animals. These experiences have influenced and shaped both the practical and theoretical lenses we bring to this research on human relationships with other animals, food security, climate change, and other health and well-being issues.
Part of the reflexivity mentioned involves bringing ourselves into the research by sharing relevant stories, journal entries, and life events that help the reader understand more holistically what this research is all about, and why we have come to see things the way we do (Kovach 2009: 49–50). As Joseph Maxwell makes clear in his book Qualitative Research Design: An interactive approach (2005: 79): “Qualitative data are not restricted to the results of specified ‘methods’ … you are the research instrument in a qualitative study, and your eyes and ears are the tools you use to make sense of what is going on.”
In our research this means that autoethnographic tools, such as journaling and systematic notetaking, where we consider our thoughts, feelings, and experiences within the topic areas covered, allowed us to be more intentional about the inclusion of relevant personal thoughts and experiences. “[A]utoethnography involves the researcher’s shifting back and forth between the social and cultural and their inner experience” (van den Hoonaard & van den Scott 2022: 215). It changes the research project so that in addition to studying someone else, the researcher’s own observations, actions, and feelings are analyzed and included (van den Hoonaard & van den Scott 2022: 215). This also allowed us to work through some of the difficult emotional labor that arose in this research.
In exploring others’ experiences of marginalization, structural violence, systemic inequality, and climate disruption, we often felt a sense of profound overwhelm and grief. Researchers are often expected to be “objective” and “unemotional”, but the emerging thought is that this is not beneficial, or perhaps even possible, especially when witnessing violence and loss (Gillespie & Lopez 2019). Such emotional labor may also bring to attention our own privilege as “researcher” and “witness”’ as opposed to those who are “researched” and “witnessed” (Gillespie & Lopez 2019: 7). We felt this deeply in our own research as we thought through the privilege we have currently as white, middle-class, educated professors living in the Global North exploring what food in a just world means, in addition to our species privilege as humans compared to the other animal subjects we tried to bring to the forefront in this work.
An intersectional framework exploring social justice necessitates that we expand the critical lenses to explore how “oppression in all forms intersect, and that actors in the more-than-human world are subjects of oppression and frequently agents of social change” (Collins & Bilge 2020: 239). This project started from a perspective of interdependence, the view that humans are part of an intricate network of relationships with each other, with other animals, and with the environment, and that harm to one part of the network inevitably affects all other parts.
Such sharing of emotional labor is also important to us from an emancipatory standpoint, as being active in the research process and accepting the rigor and substantiation of works that are in addition to those more traditionally used in academe, is an important part, we believe, of the decolonization process. As Tilley (2016) points out, “[c]ritical frameworks create space to question dominant, historical Eurocentric practices embedded in the institutions within which many students learn to be researchers and receive permission and resources to conduct research” (p. 11). We set about in this project to challenge those dominant assumptions about who and what should be considered in questions related to building a just food system by expanding the emancipatory lens to prioritize marginalized voices, viewpoints, and experiences throughout the book.
During her sabbatical in the winter of 2021, Tracey began exploring research on the treatment of nonhuman animals within industrialized food systems and the job-related outcomes for slaughterhouse workers, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. Meanwhile, Terry had been working closely with local Indigenous knowledge keepers as a participant in the movement to decolonize settler mindsets and institutional frameworks. This book project, and the qualitative data collection used within it, started from the standpoint that Indigenous knowledge systems are critical to questions of food justice and resilience in that the lenses framing humans in relationship to other humans, nonhuman animals, ecosystems, and the land, fundamentally challenge the logic of the capitalist system and the inevitable harms of a profit-motivated system.
The inclusion of Indigenous knowledge systems was essential to this research project as Mi’kmaw Elders and community members, and Indigenous Peoples globally, are leaders in protecting the integrity of ecosystems and ensuring that future generations will be able to live healthfully and compassionately on this planet. We similarly come from a place of understanding the important relationship of ecosystems to humans and nonhuman animals as an interdependent system where both harms and benefits in one part of the system affect all other parts, and that the goal should be sustainability and compassion for all.
One aspect of this research has been to draw on these important understandings to help others (i.e., non-Indigenous) understand the importance of Mi’kmaq and other Indigenous knowledge systems in creating more just food systems (Battiste 2013; Kimmerer 2013). If the ideas presented in this book lead to more sustainable, compassionate, and healthier approaches to food advocacy, and to healthy food options becoming more affordable and easily attainable, it would be of benefit to all communities, not only Mi’kmaq and other Indigenous communities.
The research for this book looks to the experiences of advocates and researchers of Black, Indigenous, and other equity deserving groups, Mi’kmaw Elders and Knowledge Keepers, farm sanctuary workers, regenerative farmers, producers, policymakers, consumer-citizens, students, and youth in general. Each participant helped us to better understand the issues with the current food system and the ways in which people are challenging it and creating more equitable and compassionate alternatives.
At the end of the research process, and reflecting on all that we have learned, we hope to have provided a broad picture of the many reasons the current food system cannot continue to be governed by an economic model guided by a logic of profit that often treats humans, other animals, and nature as commodities; not if what we seek is to create a more just, compassionate, and sustainable world for all. For a more detailed explanation of the methodology, please see the Methods section at the end of the book.
We would like to begin by acknowledging that we are writing this book from Mi’kma’ki1 and that, as a result of unlawful trespass and dispossession, settlers are here on the territory of the Mi’kmaq. The land and territories were never ceded by treaty nor have been purchased by the British Sovereign. Mi’kmaq Chiefs in the treaty reserved their ancestral territory and resources for their clans and families, and for “their heirs, their heirs of their heirs forever” (Treaty 1726, renewed in 1752). Mi’kmaq Chiefs also authorized peaceful British settlements in Mi’kma’ki as trading posts. However, the settlers gradually dispossessed the Mi’kmaq. The Peace and Friendship treaties lay the foundation for relations with settlers, and guarantee the inherent powers and territories for the Mi’kmaq Nation. Reconciliation then requires us to respect each other, work together for the benefit of all, and to take care of the earth. This opening acknowledgment is not only an important reminder of our place as authors, and our history, but it also relates to so many aspects of this book focused on creating a more compassionate and just food system.
We begin from the standpoint that Indigenous knowledge systems are critical not only to questions of social justice related to food but as foundational lenses for interdisciplinary discussions and collaborations on the broader questions of climate change and global citizenship. These lenses frame humans in healthful and compassionate relations with other humans, nonhuman animals, and the land in ways that fundamentally challenge the harmful and often violent features of our global economic system driven by profit and overconsumption. The inclusion of Indigenous knowledge systems was also important to us as we work in solidarity with Mi’kmaw and Indigenous Peoples globally who are leaders in protecting the integrity of ecosystems and ensuring future generations will be able to live healthfully and compassionately on our planet.
It is important to note that Indigenous communities, not only on Turtle Island (North America) but around the world, are disproportionately affected by industrial production systems such as resource extraction and food production that have violated Indigenous rights and expropriated Indigenous lands. In addition, one of the clear outcomes of the industrialized production of other animals as food is climate change which, once again, disproportionately impacts Indigenous communities (LaFortune 2020).
Since food, clean water, and fresh air are all basic necessities of life, all communities have a vested interest in seeing the climate crisis resolved. With this in mind, it was important to us to frame Indigenous knowledge systems and viewpoints as essential in constructing sustainable and compassionate ways forward. This is also essential within the Canadian context as there has been a “Call to Action” in response to the history of colonialism (Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada 2015), made more blatantly visible in the past few years through the gruesome discoveries of mass graves of Indigenous children at residential schools. This brutal consequence of systemic abuse and neglect illustrates the urgent need to decolonize policies, frameworks, belief systems, research, and institutions in order to foster true and lasting reconciliation.
The book that you are reading has evolved over time. At first, we thought it would be an overview of the many ways that the Animal-Industrial Complex (A-IC) – the large-scale, industrial system of production, distribution, and consumption of animals as “food” within the broader global capitalist system – harms humans, other animals, and the ecology of the planet (Noske 1997; Twine 2012). But the research was telling us that while there are many excellent resources that explore the systemic issues and impacts connected with the industrial production of animals as food in general, there was little out there that weaves nonhuman animals into the broader narratives of social and climate justice in a more holistic way (i.e., not just as an “add on” or for a readership primarily interested in nonhuman animals).
Many authors before us, several of whom we had an opportunity to interview for this book, offer comprehensive studies on the harms of the A-IC and the intensive system of producing other animals as food. We are cognizant of, and fully appreciate, the influence of these other studies in laying the groundwork for this book and their voices are weaved throughout.
We chose the title Food in a Just World rather than “Food Justice” intentionally to highlight the reality that building a genuinely “just” food system is inseparable from building a world in which broader social justice issues related to racism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism/disability, sexism, and speciesism are all tackled together. While it is obvious to us that the current dominant food system directly and unapologetically makes nonhuman animals into commodities, there are few voices out there that demonstrate how this reality is interwoven with and inseparable from the commodification of people and land.
We would argue that the food justice issue is connected with all other social justice struggles and, directly, to biodiversity destruction, mass species extinction and climate change. These realizations created a two-fold issue for us in writing this book. Firstly, we feel we cannot get to the heart (literally) of the matter of food without a very broad scope, but we also acknowledge that we cannot in one book adequately address all social justice issues or the literature of all the disciplines that tackle the food question. So, our caveat is that we don’t pretend to!
We apologize in advance for the discomfort that this may create for some readers, particularly the academic ones. What we intend to do, rather, is to provide a guide to some key threads that we have identified as intersecting amongst the various literatures and disciplines, pointing where possible to helpful resources along the way. In addition to that, we will highlight some inspiring examples of the drivers of change.
This book is therefore, by nature, interdisciplinary and intersectional with a focus thematically on rethinking democracy – in the largest sense of the word – through the lenses of social and ecological justice and as a process which must include complete transparency and accountability. It tackles several of the intersections of oppression related to the industrial food system and points to ways in which seemingly divergent issues are related. Uniquely, we believe, it examines some of the issues of the heavily industrialized and intensive food system from multiple and connected perspectives: citizen-consumers, workers, nonhuman animals, and the environment.
Fueled by firsthand interviews with knowledgeable experts and advocates who work directly on food and environmental issues, we further draw upon, and attempt to synthesize, work from a variety of other sources: scholarly work, policy papers, news articles, and popular information sources such as documentaries. We also hope that this work will inspire and demonstrate that, despite the precarious and unknown future of life on this planet, not only is positive change possible, but as the interview participants point out, in many communities it is already happening.
Our book assumes that there are three key parts to how change happens. One is through the activism, advocacy, and emotional and practical labor of concerned citizens from all walks of life – classes, races, genders, and cultures. These advocates are trying to make transparent, and end as many of the harms, particularly the worst harms, of the system as quickly as possible. Another significant and often forgotten or ignored way that change happens is through the modeling of new ways of being by individuals, communities, and organizations demonstrating practical alternatives. The third aspect of shifting oppressive systems is large-scale institutional processes and legal changes (i.e., changes at the structural level). This final category of change often frustrates people from all places on the political spectrum because it is the one in which we can often feel the most impotent.
In the book we give attention to all three of these aspects of change, again with the proviso that we do not claim to adequately explore all the facets or implications of the global structures of governance or economy, or all the incredible work for change in food systems happening around the world. The food system, treatment of workers in producing all types of food, but especially those that relate to nonhuman animals, and climate disruption are all increasingly receiving attention; an attention that has intensified since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. We believe it is important to keep talking about these intersecting issues while amplifying the success stories, and that takes a broad lens.
Dr. A. Breeze Harper, Critical Race Feminist and Food Studies Scholar, said in her interview with us that “dystopian stories make us feel helpless and hopeless. We need to demonstrate a reimagining that a ‘utopian regenerative future’ is possible. This will bring much-needed hope and resilience to the discussions of food systems, and environmental care” (Interview with Breeze Harper 2022). And, as we heard from many interview participants, “paradigm shifts” also need to move the discussion so that marginalized voices and wisdom are front and center.
We also need to model compassionate ways forward, by telling the stories of those most disadvantaged in this current food system – humans and nonhumans alike – while offering up potential solutions that are currently initiating, or could soon initiate, positive social change. When we asked the filmmaker of Speciesism: The Movie, Mark DeVries, what was something he now knows that he wished he’d known when starting his work/research, he responded that, first, reforming the food system is complicated, stating:
For every change that we make, we should expect unanticipated consequences, which may include problems that must be solved in turn. We should always remain intellectually humble, and open to new information that provides reasons to update our views. Second, change is happening, even if it may not appear to be happening fast enough. Taking a long-term view can allow us to feel calm and remain engaged, rather than feeling overwhelmed and getting burnt out. (Interview with Mark DeVries 2022)
We hope that this book humbly considers some of the ways the food system is being challenged, how it has been positively transformed, and ways to further transition. To do this we present material from a variety of sources and places. The interview participants include an Indigenous Elder; racialized and other equity deserving peoples; advocates; researchers; allies; academics from a variety of fields related to food, ethics, and justice; farmers and producers of organic and sustainable food systems; animal rescue and sanctuary workers; students; politicians; and educators.
All this is to say that we have talked to inspirational thinkers and doers who are helping to re-shape the food system to one that takes the well-being of nonhuman animals, workers, consumers, and the environment into consideration. These voices have helped to shape this book, and we are grateful for the time, energy, and inspiration these participants have shared with us. From a personal perspective, we also want to acknowledge what a privilege it has been to talk to, and learn from, such inspirational people in the creation of this book.
Throughout the book we attempt to fully consider the lives of nonhuman animals under the industrialized food production system. One of the ways we do so is to bring attention to their commodification, and the fact that this is neither “normal” nor inevitable. One way of drawing attention to this is to consider the ways in which we talk and write about nonhuman animals, because the language we use helps us create, shape, and share cultural ideals and values. Throughout this book, we utilize the terms “nonhuman animals” or “other animals” to help signify that we too, as humans, are animals.
As David Nibert so eloquently argues in his work, in addition to reminding us that we are also animals, such phrases offer us “a way to challenge the entrenched patriarchal, dualistic way of perceiving the world as involving ‘man’ (purportedly rational and ‘civilized’) on the one hand and women and other animals (inferior) on the other” (2017: xviii). He also reminds us that even if the intent in using this terminology is to overcome speciesist language and understandings, the phrase ‘nonhuman animals’ is still imperfect because it still prioritizes humans. It also lumps together an enormous grouping of beings – some quite similar to us (such as chimpanzees) – and the term does not recognize the differences between species in both personalities and in power relations with humans (for instance, a dog and a chicken) (Gruen 2015: 35–36).
In addition to land animals, we also look at the utilization of fish for food. Both Jonathan Balcombe (2016) and Taichi Inoue (2017) urge us to consider using the plural “fishes,” rather than the common usage of the singular, when describing entire species. As Balcombe states, “I have come to favor the plural ‘fishes,’ in recognition of the fact that these animals are individuals with personalities and relationships” (2016: 6). Both authors believe that it also helps us to recognize that fishes and other sea animals matter, beyond their utility to humans and their ongoing commodification.
Throughout the book we try to draw the reader’s attention to mainstream language that devalues other animals, or frames them only within the conceptualization of them as “food,” “tools,” “property,” etc. We do this by italicizing commonly used terms like meatpacking, chicken processing, farmed animals, livestock, or particular products made from their bodies or output, such as meat, veal, cheese, omelet, or hamburger. We rarely use the term “farmed animals” and instead use the term “industrial production of animals as food.” The hope is to avoid objectifying and defining other animals by the nature of their oppression and recognize them instead for the amazing and diverse individuals they are (Nibert 2017: xviii). We recognize that this can make reading the work a bit more clunky or cumbersome, but we believe it is important to demonstrate the problem with the usage of such words as we try to build a more respectful and compassionate relationship between human and nonhuman animals (Gillespie 2018: 8). We also mainly use the terms “slaughter” and “slaughterhouse” to describe the process of turning live animals into meat or food. Such terminology may not be common in industry, and other mainstream narratives, but it does provide “clarity in describing what transpires within the confines of those walls” (Fitzgerald 2015: 35).
Making visible that which is often invisible is also an important feature of intersectional and emancipatory research. As sociology professors Patricia Hill Collins and Sirma Bilge explain, “complexity is not something that one achieves by using intersectionality as an analytic tool, but rather something that deepens intersectional analysis” (Collins & Bilge 2020: 34).
We also want to share here a little bit about who we are as authors and how we came to create this book. While neither of us believes in the possibility of conducting unbiased fieldwork and research, we do believe in the power of putting all our cards on the table, so that the reader has a clear picture of who we are, and how we have come to think the way we do. While we each have our own stories to tell, we will start with an acknowledgment of the similarities in our life histories that allow us to easily work on this project, and many others, with shared insights and conviviality, and, when appropriate, good humor.
We come from different academic backgrounds, but we both share a commitment to interdisciplinary and intersectional approaches. We both also share a commitment to emancipatory ideals in our teaching, research, and community service. And while this gets implemented in diverse types of courses, research, and service, it is the foundation that allows us to build a bridge that connects the various pieces of our work and advocacy.
Both of us grew up in lower-middle/working class “meat and potato” families without any understanding of vegetarian or plant-based diets or vegan lifestyles. Terry remembers, when her mother became a single parent and the family lived on social assistance temporarily, the family had a “budget box” with coin slots where a certain number of coins went to “meat” and some to “vegetables” and quite a bit less went to “treats.” Tracey recalls her parents having a little box that contained envelopes where the weekly allowance for each necessity was carefully measured out in order to stay on budget for the week. This adds another layer to our understanding of the necessity of not assuming that everyone is starting from the same place or will end with the same behavioral shifts.
Although we grew up in vastly different geographical locales, we sometimes wonder at the similarities between our rural upbringings. For instance, we were both first-generation university students, we both grew up with a huge appreciation and respect for other animals and the natural world, and we lived in close-knit, rural communities where people helped each other out. Terry spent her very early childhood in three Arctic hamlets in what is now known as Nunavut and was deeply impacted by Inuit culture and Inuit practices with regard to the land and other animals. But having a deep-seated appreciation for nonhuman animals did not mean that we were always able to fully see what their lives entailed. For instance, shortly after beginning this book project we were having a conversation about livestock auctions in both Canada and Wales and realized that, as children, both of us had frequented these so-called cattle sales as spectators. As children we were admittedly naïve to what we were witnessing, and both of us loved to attend in order to visit with the animals and muck around in the facilities.
Interestingly, and connected to this current project, there are several more similarities on a personal level that connect us together and to this project. We are both mothers and feel deep sadness at what is happening to the planet and a sense of urgency to leave things in some semblance of “good shape” for our children, and their children, and their children’s children, and so on. We both eat only plant-based foods and strive for a vegan lifestyle, but our children are vegetarian, and our partners are omnivores. As we are both the primary cooks in our households, the effect is that each of our families eats a primarily plant-based diet.
We have seen firsthand the positive health effects of this diet on our partners, in terms of lessening certain hereditary diseases like early onset heart disease, and lifestyle diseases such as high cholesterol and diabetes. With family and friend configurations, including children of mixed race/ethnicity, we also have firsthand experience with navigating dietary differences and preferences, and have become self-taught “experts” at veganizing meals. Furthermore, with advice from friends, we love experimenting with veganizing recipes from diverse cultures, an important and creative challenge highlighted in the interview with Mi’kmaw scholar Margaret Robinson (Interview with Margaret Robinson 2022).
We fully acknowledge that we don’t always make the grade in our food/consumer choices, and we certainly do not feel “holier” because of our choices! We acknowledge that every individual who actually has a choice decides on certain priorities that differ and, at times, may not make sense, to another person with similar circumstances or values. We discuss this further in the book.
Almost all of the interview participants pointed to the fact that taking social justice into account with every dollar or other currency we spend is very difficult, and sometimes impossible, in this current economic system. And, as we argue in the book, “choice” is often a feature of privilege. But we do believe that navigating these differences in our family members’ diets gives us a unique understanding of some of the issues people may face in thinking about, or transitioning to, more plant-based foods and ecologically friendly diets and lifestyles, and how we can be helpful allies for those trying to incorporate such changes into their lives.
One of the struggles we faced in the layout of this book was trying to present concrete solutions for the vast array of issues facing humans, other animals and the environment within the parameters of the current animal-intensive food system. We recognized it is essential that all three pieces come together and are seen as equally important. It was also a struggle to reconcile how to present partial or incremental change for the betterment of nonhuman animals, without legitimating their subordination or continued (ab)use. We do, however, clearly recognize the fine line that must be walked in figuring out how to support incremental change, especially as it relates to animal welfare measures, without them becoming a rationale for continuing with the status quo.
We have seen that one way to bring together people from various belief systems and vantage points is to focus on the concept of transparency within the food system. In her interview with us, sociologist and green criminologist Amy Fitzgerald said, “One thing I tell my students is to gather information about what they consume. And I always emphasize to them that we should all be troubled, even if they do not care about animals, by the lack of transparency. This is an issue that should unite people” (Interview with Amy Fitzgerald 2022). We recognize that such transparency is not easy as it is often difficult to ascertain what actually happens in the production of food. But this difficulty elevates the importance of transparency because it spurs us to ask: Why is it so difficult to find out how food is produced?
Within this book we will address the roots of this lack of transparency and will advocate for the kinds of changes other researchers and advocates propose to challenge this system, both from a gradual incremental perspective and from a more system-overhaul, emancipatory approach. We attempt to do this while maintaining a firm belief in building bridges, providing education, and acting and reacting compassionately. In all our work – whether research, community service, or teaching – our commitment is to try to reach people where they are at. We strongly believe that most people do not respond well to being shamed, and that real and lasting change requires time, energy, community building, and active listening to disparate viewpoints. We very much hope that this will come through as you begin reading.
In chapter 1, drawing on Indigenous and other knowledge systems and perspectives, we explore what a more genuine and deep form of democracy and democratic accountability could look like and what it could do to transform the way we think about food. In this exploration we make use of the concept of “structural violence” (i.e., the violence, both direct and indirect, that exists in systems), and we situate this discussion in the context of the current global economic system of capitalism which has its own internal logic.
Contextualizing the discussion in the framework of climate change and biodiversity destruction, chapter 2 looks at the ‘Animal-Industrial Complex’ (A-IC) as one significant feature of the global economic system. It also sketches out the impacts of this system for nature/land and for nonhuman and human animals. With food in mind, we examine colonialism and linear notions of “development,” arguing for a shift away from “dominion” over land and other animals towards a culture recognizing and protecting the global “commons,” neutrally defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as “land or resources belonging to or affecting the whole of a community.”
Chapter 3 looks at work within industrialized production of other animals as food, for both humans and nonhumans. Using a case study approach, this chapter focuses on some of the systemic issues with this type of work, how those issues were exacerbated during the initial COVID-19 pandemic and how they may threaten to play out in future outbreaks and health crises. It concludes by examining resistance and the possibility of what a just transition away from industrialized production of animals as food might involve and what it could look like.
Chapter 4 examines the current animal-intensive food system from the frameworks of a colonial-capitalist diet, and what that means for consumer-citizens. Here we explore food as a basic human right. The rise in industrialized production has not led to everyone being well fed, and a host of other concerns are also touched upon, such as food scarcity, overabundance of cheap processed food, inequitable food distribution, and food safety. We briefly reflect on some of the recent discussions of zoonosis, when animal diseases cross over the species boundaries to humans, and the potential consequences.
Chapter 5 examines what a food system that commodifies other animals on an industrial scale looks like more specifically for nonhuman animals. It highlights the connections between what are known as Standard Industry Practices in countries such as Canada, the United States, and in the European Union. This means that, while individual workers and consumers may not set out to be intentionally cruel to other animals, the profit-driven system makes certain decisions and practices – practices that often do not reflect a concern for the well-being of nonhuman animals – more convenient and more affordable. We end this chapter by focusing on the well-being of nonhuman animals as part of a larger critique of what needs to change to facilitate democracy in practice.
The final chapter explores the possible features of a compassionate food system, highlighting the Mi’kmaw concept and practice/embodiment of “Eptuaptmumk” or “Two-Eyed Seeing” and advancing the notion of “radical democracy.” In the vein of ensuring transparency, and as a prerequisite to social and ecological justice, we advocate for a precautionary approach to economic development where the goal is to minimize and, where possible, to eliminate, harms to the earth and to all animals, including us humans.
This final chapter also considers some of the ideas proposed by interview participants as they reflected on the need for a paradigm shift in the transition to more democratically decided and locally based food strategies. The conclusion folds these various themes together, highlighting the challenges and opportunities ahead in the process of democratizing the food system and pointing to areas for future work and research.
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Mi’kma’ki includes seven ancestral districts that include all of what settlers called Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, as well as parts of New Brunswick, Quebec, and Newfoundland in Canada and part of Maine in the United States.
I learned very early that the violation of ecological limits is the beginning of ecological injustice. And this is what has shaped my understanding of climate change.
– Vandana Shiva
In this book we are not simply interested in examining food as an isolated phenomenon to be explored in relation to other social determinants of health and well-being. We are proposing that a socially just, ecologically responsible and transparent approach to food systems is a fundamental, if not a necessary prerequisite, to building more democratic, resilient, and compassionate communities where well-being for all, including other species, is a guiding principle. We will explore below why food security depends upon food “justice” which in turn depends upon genuinely democratic, from the ground up, political and economic systems that take a precautionary approach with regard to nature and all living things.
We live in a world that produces enough food to feed everyone and yet the United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization (FAO) reported that there were 828 million people affected by hunger in 2021; an increase of 46 million people over the previous year and 150 million people since 2019. The report further estimates that 3.1 billion people do not have access to a healthy diet. At the same time, the global waste of food – post-harvest and prior to consumption – is around 14 percent. Meanwhile, according to United Nations Environmental Program’s (UNEP) Food Waste Index Report, another 17 percent of food is wasted in retail and by consumers. It is estimated that, with the food we waste alone, we could feed 1.26 billion hungry people every year (UNEP 2021).
In its ground-breaking report of 2013, the FAO put the global volume of food wastage at 1.6 billion tonnes, with the estimated carbon footprint of this wastage at 3.3 billion tonnes of greenhouse gases (GHGs) released into the atmosphere. Astoundingly, we use almost 30 percent of the world’s agricultural land to produce wasted food. In addition, “Agriculture is responsible for a majority of threats to at-risk plant and animal species tracked by the International Union for Conservation of Nature” (FAO 2013). This picture has not shifted significantly in recent years as it is estimated that food wastage accounts for 8–10 percent of global GHG emissions (FAO 2019).
At the World Food Summit in 1996, it was declared that, “Food security exists when all people, at all times, have physical and economic access to sufficient, safe and nutritious food that meets their dietary needs and food preferences for an active and healthy life” (quoted in FAO 2006). The definition does not say “some people, sometimes,” nor does it say “mostly white people,” or “for part of their lives”; it clearly states “all people, at all times” (our emphasis).
Drawing on statistical data and reports from reputable global food institutions, in addition to interview testimonies, we argue below that the current food system simply does not work for most of humanity and is at the same time systematically destroying biodiversity and animal life while being a disproportionate contributor to climate change. Further, as we shall see, the statistical correlations of class and race to food insecurity require that we explore issues of poverty and social justice more broadly speaking, as we attempt to address how to improve food systems.
A stark glimpse of this picture is evident in the lives of small farmers, who, analysts suggest, are responsible for 30 percent of the food supply globally. Hannah Ritchie from Our World in Data notes that, “Most (84%) of the world’s 570 million farms are smallholdings; that is, farms less than two hectares in size” (Ritchie 2021). These largely rural populations face the most acute poverty and hunger. We will explore below the structural conditions that make this paradox so. In their recent report, the FAO and the World Food Program (WFP) were warning that “acute food insecurity” globally would continue to escalate with the situation likely worsening in 19 countries, known as “hunger hotspots.” These include those countries projected to face starvation: Afghanistan, Ethiopia, Nigeria, South Sudan, Somalia, and Yemen (FAO & WFP 2022).
Global organizations are increasingly tying their escalating numbers of those facing food insecurity to climate change. In 2017, the WFP was reporting that over 20 million people in the African countries of Ethiopia, Malawi, Zimbabwe, and Kenya experienced acute food insecurity as a direct consequence of climate change. The WFP, which has a “special relationship” with the UN Food and Agricultural Association, notes that climate disruptions such as La Niña since late 2020 are causing massive crop and livestock losses, particularly in East and West Africa, Central Asia, and Central America and the Caribbean (FAO 2022).
In most of the world, food security is dependent upon access to fertile agricultural land. Consequently, when people are forced to flee their lands they inevitably face increasing food insecurity. In 2021, the White House reported that, along with conflict, climate disruptions are one of the top two drivers of forced displacement globally, together causing nearly 30 million people to flee their homes and lands annually (The White House 2021).
The loss of glaciers, a process driven by climate change, is just one element of this picture of food insecurity globally. The melting of glaciers is often perceived as a distant threat, and the links of this to food systems are poorly understood by most people. Mount Kenya provides a stark example of this. As Africa’s second-largest mountain after Kilimanjaro, its various peaks are projected to lose most, if not all, of their glaciers by 2030, making it the planet’s first mountain range to lose its glaciers to climate change. The International Livestock Research Institute (ILRI) notes: “The Mount Kenya ecosystem is an irreplaceable biodiversity hotspot that provides water for over 2 million people, and the surrounding landscape has long been one of eastern Africa’s most productive agricultural areas” (Carleton 2022).
According to UNEP, the broader African continent is responsible for a paltry 2–3 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, but it is the most vulnerable region globally in terms of climate change and food insecurity. The connection of this vulnerability to global inequality and poverty is a pattern repeated around the world, making Global South populations (particularly around the equator and island communities) and Northern territories, in places such as Canada, the most at risk.
It seems appropriate to state that the people impacted by these processes are victims of “structural violence,” not to be polemical, but to allow us to identify the harmful elements of “systems” (i.e., political and economic structures) that are actively contributing to these processes. Structural violence is a term that grew out of Marxism and then was taken up by Norwegian sociologist Johan Galtung, principal founder of the discipline of peace and conflict studies. Galtung showed how “violence” can take many forms and can be expressed in indirect ways through institutional, bureaucratic, and cultural practices (Galtung 1969).
The institutional infrastructure required by the Nazis and used during European colonialism are two poignant examples. This is important because if we can’t recognize how political and economic institutions and processes allow, enable, or in some cases directly cause violence, we may end up with any number of outcomes including genocide. And it is important to understand why average people can be working in service of violence without necessarily always being aware of that fact.
Structural violence is not only an issue for people in the Global South. In many countries of the relatively rich Global North, systemic racism is prevalent and directly relates to food insecurity. In Canada, for example, household food insecurity is highest amongst Indigenous and other racialized groups (PROOF 2022). Not surprisingly, class is also a huge factor in food security. When highlighting who are most at risk of household food insecurity generally, the policy-focused interdisciplinary research group PROOF points to those with “inadequate, insecure incomes and limited, if any, financial assets, or access to credit” (PROOF 2022). This disproportionate pattern of food insecurity is also experienced by racialized and economically disadvantaged groups across the United States (Haider & Roque 2021) and the UK (PROOF 2022).