[If you missed Part 1, go here.]

The Organic Movement

Most people are vaguely familiar with the counterculture roots of the organic movement. It’s a success story (perhaps too much of one for those who believe that small is beautiful). A couple of decades ago, the organic section of the average grocery store consisted of a bin [...]]]>

[If you missed Part 1, go here.]

The Organic Movement

Most people are vaguely familiar with the counterculture roots of the organic movement. It’s a success story (perhaps too much of one for those who believe that small is beautiful). A couple of decades ago, the organic section of the average grocery store consisted of a bin of small, knobbly, expensive apples at the very back. Since then the “organic” brand has become a multinational hit. Many little mom-and-pop food processing and retailing businesses, launched by people who were motivated more by ethics than cash, have long since been acquired by giant food companies who recognized the value of this new label.

There was a time when going organic meant making a deep commitment to an alternative way of farming and living. It was about much more than pesticide-free food. An organic farm was one which certainly avoided the use of industrial pesticides and fertilizers, but which was also dedicated to soil conservation, small-scale polyculture, good treatment of workers and relentless innovation.

The advent of industrial organic farming and the marketing practices of food processors (and even shampoo makers) has destroyed the once broad semantic domain of the term “organic.” Organics have sadly become an upsell opportunity as much as an ethical alternative. Label the shampoo organic and, presto, the price goes up 30% and people are still willing to pay. I like to think the broader food movement is at least partially a reaction to the usurpation of organics by salespeople. Marketers may have cut off the hydra head of the organic food movement, but a dozen other movements have sprung up in its place.

The Local Food Movement

Originating with The 100-Mile Diet by fellow Adbusters alumnus, James MacKinnon, the locavore craze is stronger than ever. Why local? In two words: climate change. Environmentalist David Suzuki has indicated that given a choice between organic food and locally grown food, he’d choose the local stuff. All those food miles racked up by your imported dinner in our globalized economy arguably have more of an impact on carbon emissions than the fossil fuel inputs going into your non-organic dinner. Amazingly, you will still find apples from New Zealand in the bins of major grocery stores in North America in September. That is pretty crazy when you think about it.

Locavorism has other dimensions too, such as making and benefiting from a deeper commitment to neighborly provender. Going to that new farmers’ market in your neighborhood and meeting the farmer who grew your tomatoes or peaches or garlic, is not only fun, it often results in better value. So much of what passes down the industrial food supply system these days is insipidly mediocre. The locavore trend also includes a renewed interest in urban vegetable gardening and, of course, the whole backyard chicken thing.

The Sustainable Food Movement

This is a vague, catch-all term, synonymous with the “good food” or “real food” movement or just plain old “food movement.” (Some people in the agricultural community don’t like terms like “real food” because of the inference that large-scale biotech crops result in something like “fake food.”) Sustainability is a concept that gets so much play that it starts to lose meaning after a while, but in the context of agriculture it often means, “not dependent on oil.” It’s closely associated with organics because the mass production of chemical fertilizers and pesticides in industrial agriculture is very much dependent on using lots of fossil fuel.

#ProFood

If ever a man has used social media to pick himself up by the bootstraps and create something out of nothing, that someone is Rob Smart, or, as he’s better known, @jambutter of the twittersphere. I should know, because I had a front row seat from the beginning. Almost a year ago, before Twitter hit the headlines as the next big thing, a web developer friend convinced a very reluctant me to pay attention to Twitter. “It’ll be huge,” he said. I lifted a skeptical eyebrow in response. But I joined anyway and looked around for food tweeps, one of whom was Rob.

Rob was an amazingly active twitterer and he had a plan. He engaged both the food activists and the mid-western cattle ranchers in fierce, often entertaining debate. Rob worked hard and put in long hours. Six months later he had carved out a hashtag principality of his own: #ProFood.

ProFood has its own special niche in the food movement: finding entrepreneurial solutions to the serious problems facing America’s food system. But it has also served as a meeting place and organizational tool for a diverse group of twittering foodies. The success of ProFood has shown that the food movement is still young and opportunity abounds.

The Whole Is Greater Than…

I’ve described a few of the components. So what the heck is the food movement en masse then? Admittedly, it’s partly epicurean. Opponents love to exploit this angle as a vulnerability, to dismiss the food movement as the playground of brandy-sniffing, souffle-nibbling elitists. But the pleasure principle is actually one of its strengths. Learning about food leads very quickly to a more pleasurable, healthier life, regardless of your means. A little education results in more discrimination in the grocery store, which leads to better value for your grocery dollar. The fast and universal payoff of an interest in food politics is one of its most potent engines for growth. Broadly speaking, the food movement is a consumer movement.

Shoulder to shoulder with the consumers you have political activists, entrepreneurs, farmers, environmentalists, journalists, chefs, designers, and philosophers, all taking a mutual interest in the future of food. The movement is emanating from America, because the land of junk food and all-powerful lobbyists needs it the most, but it’s global in reach. It is fundamentally progressive and interlinked with the trend towards more sustainable forms of manufacturing, transportation, and energy production. Although food is a universal concern, the movement’s attention to government policy and criticism of industrial agriculture has the potential to change the way business is done and profoundly affect paychecks and pocketbooks, and so the movement is attracting its share of conservative opposition. So it goes.

The pursuit of change has already borne fruit. Farmers’ markets are popping up all over North America. Michelle Obama has become the First Lady of food reform. Campaigners are taking on the obesity epidemic, and making explicit the doubtful role of big business in it. The lost art of cookery is reacquiring a little of the old respect. Entrepreneurs are busy finding ways to satisfy the growing demand for alternatives. And perhaps most importantly, awareness that there is such a thing as a “food movement” increases every day.

If you’re looking for ways to get on board, you’re faced with an embarrassment of opportunity. It would probably be harder to avoid getting involved at this point. If you’re truly a novice, just start with the basics. Start reading one of Michael Pollan’s books. Wipe the dust off the pots and pans. Head to the farmers’ markets next spring, and take a moment to rethink every purchase you habitually make at the supermarket.

Proponents of the food movement have the easiest sales pitch of all: learn more about what you’re putting in your body and you will live longer, more happily, and get better value for your money. Guaranteed.