Hannah Marr
Food for Thought
Sarah Smith
2/12/17
Critical Analysis
Anyone who has gardened before knows the feeling of triumph that comes with growing
your own fruits or vegetables. The knowledge that you brought such a delicious morsel to life is
a proud achievement, one that no one can diminish. Having grown it yourself, the food tastes
that much better. Or perhaps it’s the fact that the vegetable is as fresh as can be, grown right
outside your own front door, that makes it taste so good. After all, it’s a universally accepted fact
that the fresher the food, the tastier it is. And you can’t get much fresher than your own
backyard. If this feeling is so delightful, and the reward so delectable, why don’t we seek out this
experience more often? Growing one’s own food isn’t even necessary; a similarly superb taste
can be obtained by shopping organically. The answer lies in the way our culture has evolved to
view food. We no longer concern ourselves with acquiring good food. Rather, we are primarily
focused on feeding ourselves in the cheapest and most efficient way possible. This mentality
stems from the larger societal trend of efficiency in all actions and interactions, which has in
many cases resulted in our failure to live in the moment, to stop and savor all the wonder that
life has to offer. We have lost our connection with the land; we no longer care where our food
comes from or how it’s produced so long as it enters our mouth at its allotted time and leaves us
feeling satisfied. The planet is in trouble; concurrent with our emphasis on efficiency is an
ignorance of our worsening environmental footprint. The only way we can save the planet from
ourselves is restoring that human-land connection. To regain our relationship with life and the
land we must take a more active role in the food production process, by furthering our
knowledge of it and participating in it, as well as placing a greater importance on food, by
concerning ourselves with its origins and truly stopping to savor every bite.
In his article “The Pleasures of Eating,” Wendell Berry conveys that eating has become a
means to an end rather than a pleasurable experience. Food is no longer enjoyed for where it
came from and by what means it was produced but rather for the ease with which it is obtained
and consumed. Berry examines eating’s transition into an industrial exercise, and laments its
passing from the realm of creativity and excitement. The food industry is not concerned with
our health nor the quality of the food produced. Their only worry is how much they can produce
for the lowest price, no matter the effect of the toxic chemicals they use to increase production.
Berry equates the control the food industry has over our diets with a loss of freedom in society;
he believes that, concurrent with the principles of democracy, we can never truly be free if such
an important right as eating healthy is controlled by an industry so out of touch with what is
good for us. And yet we do not seem to overly care about this preclusion of freedom. Berry
relates this lack of concern with the way we have evolved as a society to think that the
satisfactions of life should “be minimal, perfunctory, and fast” (Berry, 3). But he believes that we
can liberate ourselves from this oppression of the diet by restoring our connection with the land:
understanding where our food comes from and how it was raised or grown, perhaps even
participating in the production process ourselves. Berry concludes that in order to reclaim our
freedom of choice and savor life, we must relearn how to truly enjoy food.
Berry brings up an interesting point, and one I’d seldom thought about, when he
questions why we don’t care about acquiring good food anymore. It is a rather confusing
conundrum; eating is perhaps the most important activity that we participate in, and yet for the
most part, we see it as rote. Berry notes humans’ transformation into passive consumers. For
the most part, we don’t question where our food comes from or the cleanliness of it. We ignore
the fact that much of the produce we consume is rife with chemicals, and that the meat we’re
eating probably spent most of its life confined in a feedlot, standing in its own feces and bathed
with sterilizing chemicals to prevent the inevitable diseases that result from such conditions.
Anyone who cares to look can easily figure out how their meat and produce are grown and where
they come from, but we no longer think in-depth about eating. As long as we can acquire food
easily and cheaply, the conditions under which this food was produced is of no concern to us.
Berry describes this phenomenon as our transition into “industrial eater[s],” or those “who [do]
not know that eating is an agricultural act,” and “who no longer [know] or [imagine] the
connections between eating and the land…” (Berry, 2). It is true that the concept of food has
become almost entirely separated from the earth, especially with the advent of processed,
prepackaged foods. If one didn’t know any better, one would never guess that these foods were,
at some stage, a product of the land.
As the production of our food has become increasingly industrialized, so has the way we
consume it. Much of our apathy towards eating stems from the fact we are no longer responsible
for producing our own food. We no longer need to devote the time to making our food worth
eating, and so have lost all concern for the quality of it. Though eating is an integral part of our
survival, it is no longer seen as an important part of our life. When people were responsible for
growing their own food, much of their time was spent tending and cultivating animals and crops.
Being such a large part of their lives, it only makes sense that the quality of food was a chief
concern. But today, for example, most of us are entirely separated from the food production
process. With no need to allot any time for assuring the quality of our food, this concern has all
but vanished. Regaining an involvement in the food production process seems the best way to
revitalize our fervor for food quality. This can be done by planting a vegetable garden or simply
educating yourself about where your food comes from. If we wish to change the way a whole
society views the idea of food, we must begin at the individual level, by changing the way each
of us thinks about food.
Berry blames our transformation into industrial eaters at in part on the quickening of our
society. Eating has become a hurried task, undertaken only because we know we need it. We
rush through our meals because we’re late for work, or an appointment, or to meet a friend. It is
only on special occasions that we truly pause and savor a meal. We are more concerned with
doing everything, even if it means not enjoying it, rather than going a little more slowly and
enjoying what we do. Because of this tendency, we don’t take the time to delve into and truly
understand and be present in the things that we do. Since we try to do so much, we lack the
requisite time, or so we think, to determine our food’s production process and where it came
from. We content ourselves with eating chemically tainted produce or unsustainably raised
meat, telling ourselves all the while that we can’t do anything about the way we’re eating. But
we can! It’s not all that difficult to select the organic option at the grocery store, or ditch meat
twice a week, which will significantly lessen one’s individual environmental footprint. It may take
a little extra thought and planning, but when you bite into that crisp, organic apple or taste lean,
free-range beef, that extra few minutes of research will be worth it. The first step to
revolutionizing the way we eat, in such a way that it will better the earth and ourselves, is to slow
down and take the time to savor each bite of food. If we really take the time to taste it, maybe
that factory farm burger or tomato grown in a monoculture won’t taste quite as good.
Berry asserts that the primary reason we no longer care about the taste or origins of our
food is that we’ve lost our connection with the land. Eating “is inescapably an agricultural act,”
and the way we eat dictates the fate of the environment (Berry, 3). We knew this once, but as
our lives and society have industrialized, we no longer connect food with the earth. As such, we
don’t recognize how ruinous our eating practices truly are to the environment. The amount of
water and nutrients that go into raising the meat we eat, so much of which is wasted, is not
worth the environmental impact that results from the billions of acres of cropland needed to
grow this feed, let alone the disgusting and inhumane conditions in which the animals are raised.
The way produce is grown is not substantially better. Crops are grown in monocultures, which
are unnaturally prone to disease. Thus, the plants must be doused with toxic chemicals.
Additionally, growing plants in monocultures prevents them from fulfilling their ecosystem
functions of supporting neighboring vegetation. This leads to a shocking loss of biodiversity,
which is essential to the functioning of our planet’s ecosystems. But not only is this loss of
connection with the land environmentally disastrous; it is equally catastrophic for our health.
The chemicals that are meant to prevent disease in plants and animals are never natural, and
can even be mildly toxic. While mechanization has made many aspects of our lives much easier,
it has created immense environmental and health problems, many of which stem from our
eating practices. All of the information regarding where a plant or animal comes from is readily
available to anyone interested. Understanding the origins of what we eat and how that may
affect us is the first step in regaining a connection with the earth that sustains us.
If we wish to reclaim our bodies and save our planet from environmental ruination, we
must restore the human connection with the land that previously defined our species.
Understanding our food’s origins is the best way to begin this process. Once we become aware
of the environmental and health impacts that accompany our eating practices, hopefully we will
once again begin to care about the quality of the food we put in our bodies. And if we care about
the quality, we’ll likely be eating tastier food that’s better for the earth; and thus the cycle
continues. Berry clarifies that the idea that how we eat determines our use of environmental
resources is a complex relationship that has no simple solution. But he believes that by changing
simple things about our eating practices, we can lessen our environmental impact, and at the
same time begin to regain our appreciation for the land. Berry accurately suggests that by
participating in the food production process, one can gain a greater appreciation for food’s
connection to the earth, having watched it grow for all its life. There is no better way to
understand something than by experiencing it. Berry points out that the best way to be sure of
your food’s quality and freshness is to prepare it yourself. And the freshest food will always be
that which is grown close by. Additionally, Berry encourages consumers to learn as much as they
can about the food industry and production processes. But this knowledge won’t matter if we
don’t act on it. We can’t begin to change our ways unless we become educated, motivated
consumers. There are many steps on the path to restoring our essential connection with the
land, but the best way we can begin to enact positive change is by gaining a deeper
understanding of food, whether it be by growing our own produce or educating ourselves about
environmentally sustainable options.