It feels like scientific and popular articles alike these days are overrun with projections of increases in global meat consumption. It’s in academic papers about global soil degradation (Smith et al 2016) and popular news stories about Bill Gates’ new book. It’s a fact taken for granted. It goes unquestioned that “as developing nations become wealthier” there will be an associated “increase in meat consumption” (Smith et al 2016; 1009)—which is then often used to advocate for changing agriculture practices in those developing countries (with help from the Global North, of course). This colonial aspect is always present but ever downplayed and mostly not even mentioned (I’m hoping to write/think more on this in the future).
But the naturalness of this statement, the pervasiveness of its belief, both irritates and befuddles me. In my classes these days it’s never even mentioned, let alone cross examined; we take it as fact and move on to talking about impacts on soil or the need for better nutrition. The professors and classmates I’m around seem to accept this as gospel just as much as anyone else (which should maybe not surprise me, and yet here I am, surprised).
Roland Barthes, despite his mid-20th century white male anthropologist lens, does make some poignant comments about food and food culture. He explains how food is a signifier, a unit of communication—it is “a body of images, a protocol of usages, situations, and behavior.” What, when, and how we prepare, present, and eat food is not random but instead embedded in webs of culture and social values.
Barthes also cites the work of Marguerite Perrot, a 20th century researcher, saying that “economic factors played a less important role in the changes that have taken place in middle-class food habits in the last hundred years than changing tastes; and this really means ideas, especially about nutrition.” When you think of food as a cultural sign and unit of communication, of course this makes sense. The grocery store isn’t a vacuum that we go inside and forget all of our socio-cultural trappings. We take signals all the time about what food to consume, and how, and when and where. If you suddenly got a higher-paying job and were able to buy different foods, think about what you would buy. How your food consumption habits would change. You probably wouldn’t add corn dogs as a diet staple, no matter how ‘fancy’ the brand (or maybe you would, in which case, do as you will). You probably wouldn’t start buying Chinese hundred-year eggs (unless you love them, in which case also do as you will). These foods aren’t part of current Euro-American socio-cultural food narratives, which prioritize ‘fresh’ and ‘healthy’ foods (those adjectives being in air quotes because they’re often defined and promoted in ways that are beneficial for companies and not necessarily consumers).
With this in mind, that we buy and consume food within a certain socio-cultural context (that is increasingly globalized), it makes little sense that meat consumption will inherently increase as populations get richer. This is not to say that current trends don’t show correlations between meat consumption and wealth (they do). And this is not to say that bucking that trend won’t be hard (it will be). Rather it’s to say that that correlation is not natural, fundamental, innate. It is a product of ‘Western’ hegemony over global (food) culture; in the US and Europe meat has come to be a signifier of wealth and status, and as dominant (neo)colonizing powers, we’ve spread this belief all over the globe. People buy meat within a social context that makes some foods more desirable and indicative of wealth/status than others.
But that social context is not immutable. It is the result of a particular conjunction of historical Euro-American food patterns, global cultural hegemony, and economic might of meat industries (that I really haven’t touched on here but that matters a ton!) that has produced a situation in which we expect ever-wealthier populations to buy ever more meat. People make up societies and change them all the time; though the process may seem slow at times there is a constant negotiation between a people and their overarching societally-held beliefs.
My point with all this is that it might be a worthy exercise to imagine the ways we could change conversations and beliefs surrounding meat consumption, how we can try to make meat less desirable. Global vegetarian and vegan movements are a huge component of this, obviously highlighting the rejection of meat. But also local food movements, emphasizing that you should try to consume food produced close to you by smallholders, which generally tends to include a less meat-heavy diet (though not always; what I like about these movements is the attention it brings to food sourcing, which is another issue beyond the scope of this writing). But also India is the largest vegetarian country in the world—what can the rest of us learn from them? There are many communities around the world who consume less meat than Euro-Americans do; can we pay heed to their practices in a way that changes ours? Find the ‘bright spots,’ as Elin Kelsey says in this wonderful episode of Future Ecologies, because “good things should be copied.” And then, of course, how to do this anti-colonially—how to engage in meaningful and reciprocally beneficial conversations and movements that aren’t extractive and unjust.
I think this is a worthy thought exercise to engage in, and one that encourages awareness of what we eat and why (which is nearly always a beneficial pursuit in my opinion). Food is not just caloric or nutritional nourishment; it is also a sign, a tool of communication; a way of showing love and care and experiences. And this versatility and multifunctionality of food is what I love most about it, and what provides the most hope for me in this changing world.
Sources not hyperlinked
Smith, Pete, Joanna I. House, Mercedes Bustamante, et al. 2016. “Global change pressures on soils from land use and management.” Global Change Biology 22: 1008-1028.
Mouth Potato 