Time to Get Growing

There is a lot of noise these days about the importance of food security - even the government have jumped on this bandwaggon, following after Jamie Oliver and the legion TV chefs. Suddenly, everybody is growing their own. Most of the chat in the media around the importance of locally grown food focuses on the climate impact of food shipments and transshipments - of the absurd, global conveyor belt of food that ensures we can have strawberries at Christmas and rambutan with our cheesecake.

I recently had the pleasure of hearing Paul Mobbs give his Less is a Four Letter Word presentation, which makes clear that eating from our local soil could eliminate getting on for one-third of all our carbon dioxide emissions. Growing your own food can make a more significant impact on climate change than any decisions you make about personal transport, assuming you have already given up flying.

And if you're wondering what to grow, it might be best to avoid the exotic salads and weirdly coloured beets and go for the humble potato. 2008 is the year of the potato and in an era of concern for food security I can really see why. The humble tuber is the vegetable equivalent of the downtrodden housewife - year after year it can keep us alive, healthy and happy and yet is never accorded love or respect. It is also uncomplaining about soil, although we have not been wise about breeding to deter blight.

While researching FAO statistics yesterday (the UN Food and Agriculture Organisation) I realised just how serious our food deficit really is. The difference between food imports and exports in this country is around the same, in terms of magnitude, as that in China. Both France and the USA - countries that we have harangued at trade negotiations for protecting their farmers - still have healthy trade surpluses in food. The map shows that some of our fellow EU members are just as vulnerable, although few have the density of population that we do.

As the global food market grows more competitive what do we have to trade in return for the staples of our existence? Those famous 'services' that now make up 73% of our economy. I wonder how many customers we will have for our financial services over the next year or two. Will we soon be asking how many investment analysts it takes to grow a carrot, rather than to change a light bulb? Tweet

Vegetable virgins

There is a line in Look Back in Anger where anti-hero Jimmy Porter tells somebody that, having never seen a dead body, they are suffering from a rather serious case of virginity. I share that virginity - as I've blogged elsewhere, watching the death throes of chickens was the closest I've come and that was horrifying enough.

It seems to me that a more serious case of virginity is being suffered by those who have never grown a vegetable. And a much more dangerous one too. As food prices rise around the world, the rush to get hold of an allotment has turned into a stampede. But the consequences of always buying your food in a plastic bag may run deeper than having to tolerate the vagaries of the global marketplace.


A dear friend I've met through the Transition process here in Stroud, Helen Pitel, works at a closed hospital for the criminally insane. She is a permaculture gardener, a pioneer of the Centre for Alternative Technology, and she is employed to share her love of growing living things with the inmates. I was concerned that they may be mad, bad and dangerous to know but Helen says that are rather torpid and hard to raise from their chairs to lure into the garden.

She told me of the amazement many of them have when they first understand that a small seed, placed in dirt, will produce a lettuce, cabbage or carrot. This complete dislocation from their natural environment seems to go a long way to explain their mental disorientation - a total lacking of grounding must surely lead to madness as well as badness.

I have a soft spot for Jimmy Porter, odious and self-pitying though he is, because it was via him that I learned what is still my favourite word: pusillanimous. I wonder whether he might have been a little bit less angry if, instead of going to grammar school, he had spent more time with his father on the allotment? Tweet

Filthy rich

I have long cherished a vision of how a caring, sustainable economy will replace corporate capitalism. I imagine a hacienda set deep in the South American jungle. It is covered with graffiti and has broken windows--markers of previous violent attacks which failed. But the jungle is more persistent and powerful than the colonial power and green tendrils creep around the building and through the windows until it is completely overwhelmed by nature.

I was reminded of this vision when I first heard Rob Hopkins talking about bringing productive trees and plants into the city. Why shouldn't our verges and parks throng with whortleberries and wild strawberries? Here in Stroud the town council has agreed that in future trees planted in the town should be fruit-bearing. We already have one of our main cycleways planted as a linear orchard, preserving local apple species and providing fruit and conviviality in the autumn

Shortly after I read about Havana's organiponicos, or urban gardens, often roof gardens, I gave a talk in Birmingham called 'Who Will Feed the Cities?'. Walking back to the station through the urban moonscape that is central Brum I began to imagine the car parks filled with productive raised beds, and vines and fruit trees trained along the brick facades.

It has cheered me no end to see a similar vision being shared by advertising creatives. I first noticed the Baxters Farmers' Market soup advert, where the urban cat is replaced by a piglet and a bride's bouquet is made of carrots. This was followed by an advert for E-On where giraffes invade the office and a beaver is found in the water-cooler.

It seems to me that this is the opposite impulse to that which continues to drive well-paid executives into the countryside, which they immediately neutralise and suffocate with their 'city ways'. How welcome to see an invasion of the city by revolting peasants and their filth. Tweet

Globalisation comes home to roost

Poor old Bernard Matthews. Not so bootiful as he used to be. First Jamie Oliver decimates his profits by exposing his turkey twizzlers as deep-fried guts and gizzards and now his loathsome farming practices are coming home to roost--oh go on! Forgive me a few bad puns. We gave up eating all so-called food proceeding from the Bernard Matthews empire a few years ago when, as I opened a packet claiming to be filled with Bernard Matthews wafer-thin turkey ham slices, my son asked 'who farted?'

I had difficulty following events this morning as the news bulletins jumped about between Hungary and Turkey. I was feeling hungry myself and blame the shortage of blood sugar in the brain for my lack of lucidity, but I really did begin to wonder whether Bernard also has a production facility in Turkey. Well in this era of globalisation where nobody knows where anything is and companies count for more than countries you can hardly blame me for the confusion.

This is only one of my many struggles with the food distribution system globalisation has bequeathed us. Following the appalling episode of foot-and-mouth it was clear that transporting animals around the world just to kill and eat them is not only cruel but also dangerous to public health. It has always amazed me that friends and family find it more shocking that I know the source of my meat by name than that they cannot even tell me which country theirs was produced in. Dulcie has been slaughtered recently and should be turning up in sausages soon.

The shame around the factory production and slaughter of sentient creatures is made evident by the use of the euphemism 'cull' when what is meant is kill. Not to mention the curious public outcry about the deaths of the innocents from the latest factory-farming disease and the pseudo-ritualistic pyres, when these animals were created in factories only because they were going to be killed to be eaten. Where is the moral difference between killing and cremating them en masse, and killing and roasting them in our individual ovens?

This is to say nothing of the wasteful production of unnecessary carbon dioxide our food distribution system brings with it. For an excellent critique of that you can read Caroline Lucas and Colin Hines's most recent report. Caroline's adage on the transport of biscuits from Germany to the UK and back again is the best indictment of the global food system. Watching the lorries moving past each other on a European motorway she asked 'Why don't they just swap recipes'?

Like the guy who enjoyed shaving so much he bought the company, such strong identification between an individual and a brand, the corporate cult of personality, brings its own dangers. Bernard was never as bootiful as he thought, and now his face and the festering turkeys he is still selling as safe to eat are forever melded, leaving a most unpleasant taste. Tweet