The idea of the development of human consciousness being intimately linked with the availability and discovery of certain foods, as described in Wendy E. Cook’s book Foodwise, is a startling concept, but should it really be? Food is energy, and like the exploitation of slave labour that enabled the creation of the colonial empire, or today’s western industrial world based on the equal exploitation of planet resources in the form of fossil fuel, civilisations can rise and fall as a result of the discovery and reliance on food sources. In the book, Wendy Cook quotes Steiner as saying that the growth in potato consumption corresponded with increased ability for abstract thinking, we became quicker in taking up ideas but they didn’t sink in very deeply! This isn’t as dubious as it first sounds if you think of the nutritional content of the humble potato (Irish peasants managed to survive on nothing else for centuries, to their ultimate misfortune) and in light of research linking delinquent behaviour to poor diet. Why shouldn’t it work the other way too?
How I wonder does our current reliance on so few foods play into our human development? Wheat has been a narrowing staple, with only a few varieties supplying a huge proportion of our diet, so that a child going to school with a couple of weetabix inside them, a cheese sandwich in their lunchbox and a bowl of pasta at teatime is considered to be eating a healthy diet. What on earth the vast quantities of corn syrup and oil saturating the American fast food lifestyle, is doing to the human mind, let alone our bodies, is terrifying to think.
Food as in all aspects of human life at the moment – economics, politics, religion - is splitting into two opposing polarities. On one hand there’s ‘unconscious’ food; highly processed, refined wheat and sugar, high meat and dairy, where the consumer is unaware of the origin, oblivious to the farming methods, unconcerned with the nutritional content or even the taste.
On the other hand there’s a growing awareness about food as seen in the organic movement, but which is much more than just that. It’s a conscious choice towards food with integrity, for ‘authentic’ food. True nourishment is food, not only grown without chemicals, but food with ethical significance. The rise of small local producers, farmers markets selling seasonal quality food, even the likes of TV chefs like Rick Stein, Gary Rhodes and Jamie Oliver esteeming regional quality produce (rather than unseasonal and exotic), this is all part of the growing reaction to the unconscious consumption of the average supermarket shopper.
Food integrity has a huge number of connotations. Here’s a few I thought of but I’m sure you can think of more.
- Traceability
- Accountability
- Animal welfare
- Conservation and wildlife
- Diversity, heritage varieties
- Organic standards
- Fairtrade
- Reduced packaging, waste
- Locally produced, seasonal
- Freshness, vitality
- Vitamin and mineral content
- Cultural/regional heritage
- Low energy input
- Vegetarian, vegan, fruiterian ethics
- Minimised pollution
- Unrefined, additive free
- Food with taste!
Together all these things give food a wholesome authenticity. On the other side of the food polarity is an industry growing, producing and marketing a commodity purely for profit, playing on consumer laziness, addiction and advertising vulnerability (our children!) to maximise gain, whilst calling it market choice.
But here’s the crux of the matter. We do have a choice. And people are choosing authentic food in increasing numbers and in so doing they are choosing a better world to live in because of the social, political, economic and environmental implications of all the ethical standpoints listed above.
Growing your own is often cited here as one of the most environmentally sound practices you can do. Think of the knock-on effect it can have on your own life – fresh healthy food, exercise and fresh air, less shop bought produce with all its fossil fuel additional costs (and depressing time spent in trolley wheeling!), the pleasure of giving away surplus to friends and neighbours, those satisfying taste tests, and that fulfilling feeling when you look at your plate and can say “I grew that…and that…and that!”. The world’s a better place already.
And if you can’t grow yourself, local organic box schemes are flourishing, giving the distributors and local organic farmers a living. That’s an economic and environmental bonus over and above your own family’s healthy diet. Then there’s the growth in community allotments, giving disadvantaged people access back to the land and lost skills, and there’s community supported agriculture. In CSA farms, the local community pays up front for a share in the produce and helps out the farmer on a certain number of workdays each year. Like times of old when everyone helped out with the harvest, or came together to put up a barn. Interestingly the United States is the primary CSA farming country. Suddenly true community, sharing and trust are the knock on effects of food with integrity. Earth care, people care, fair share – the three permaculture principles for sustainability.
We are what we eat is a much used adage, but one that is significant on many levels, as the best words of wisdom usually are. I suppose the conclusion to be drawn is that rather than our food sources being a guiding force behind our human development as perhaps in the past, now it is our consciousness that could be directing the food we will be eating in the future. Food will take on another dimension as more and more people wake up. ‘Not costing the earth’ and ‘part of the solution not the problem’ are inspiring phrases to help us get food with integrity firmly in our psyche.
Soul food is food that nourishes more than our bodies. It warms us with cultural identity, with ‘like granny used to make’ comfort, like ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’ spiritual connection to something bigger than ourselves that gives life meaning. Soul food will be our future, our children’s future and our planet’s future. Let’s all make Vegetable Soup for the human Soul.
by Alison Ensor