At the beginning of February, I began my travels through Latin America, which have become more of an investigation into indigenous resistance, the history of different foods and their connection to culture and territory, and the larger web of power and politics that shapes our food systems. I have been investigating how this complexity plays out around a food that is globally omnipresent—corn—that I'll share in the coming weeks.
To begin this series, it seems necessary to establish the foundation—that food is intrinsically political.
In these divided times, I can't help but smile when someone tells me they aren't political.
I simply ask them, "Do you eat?"
If the answer is yes, then you are making political choices everyday, whether you are aware of it or not, when you choose what you eat.
Just glance at the headlines from the past weeks.
As we witness the deportation of immigrant workers who form the backbone of America's food system, and watch billionaires like Jeff Bezos (owner of Amazon and the "liberally loved" Whole Foods) continue to amass wealth and power, it's impossible to deny that our food systems and political interests are deeply intertwined. Food politics is a well-established field of study, notably advanced by scholars like Marion Nestle and Michael Pollan, alongside numerous documentaries exposing the industries that largely control our food choices. Many of us know that food choice is political, in theory, yet we often fail to act on this knowledge. At a time when many Americans feel powerless, I want to remind people that we can resist three times a day through what we choose to put on our plates, but first we must understand what we are up against.
At the systems level, it is easy to see how politics and food are intertwined. Immigration—the hot-button issue of the most recent Presidential campaign—is inextricably linked to domestic food production. While Trump has portrayed immigrants to his followers as "violent criminals," the reality is that immigrants comprise almost 75% of farmworkers in the U.S. Without immigrants, our food system would collapse, a fact rarely addressed in today's xenophobic narratives. At the same time, we read about major food corporations' growth as successes (stock went up, company opens new 100 million dollar plant, etc.) without examining what drives that "growth": the disappearance of family farms, worker exploitation, and environmental degradation. We are told that corporations are working hard to be more sustainable—reducing plastics or cutting carbon emissions—only for them to backtrack on those promises with no accountability. Most of these corporations don’t even address the exploitation of workers or human rights violations along their supply chains, which are both socially and environmentally unsustainable.
Even if we ethically oppose these injustices, it is increasingly difficult for us to avoid economically supporting these food giants. Consider this: Big Food has become exponentially more consolidated over the past decades, with 10 major players controlling the vast majority of the brands available in American supermarkets. Think about that. When you walk into any major U.S. supermarket, you see hundreds of different brands and seemingly endless options, making it easy to believe you're freely choosing as a consumer. In reality, this choice is largely illusory. A handful of powerful transnational companies control virtually every aspect of the food supply chain—from seeds to pesticides, processing to familiar brands. These mega-corporations wield immense political influence through weak regulation and massive lobbying expenditures. They dictate not only what's grown, but also farmer payments, nutrition labeling policies, ingredient standards, and final product costs. This monopolization comes at the expense of small-scale farmers, local brands, independent supermarkets, environmental protections, and public health.
An investigation by the Guardian and Food and Water Watch revealed that just four firms control almost half of all food sales in American supermarkets. This and other investigations confirm a disturbing reality: our food system primarily serves to enrich corporate shareholders while exploiting farmworkers and the environment, all while painting a deceiving narrative of consumer choice. At the supermarket, our "choices" typically fall between brands owned by a few mega-corporations like Cargill, Bimbo, or PepsiCo, companies with extremely problematic social and environmental records, regardless of "organic" labels or recycled packaging claims. For example, consumers who take an ethical stance by becoming vegan or vegetarian are likely to still be economically supporting the meat industry without knowing it. Giant meat and dairy-based conglomerates, including JBS and Danone, continue to purchase and assume smaller plant-based food companies as part of their corporate expansion strategies, so that your vegan burger or plant milk is still making profits for the evil you are trying to oppose. To create genuinely sustainable food systems, we must economically divest from our corporate overlords.
The drive for corporate control and profit extends far beyond domestic concerns. Controlling food supply chains and maintain cheap prices of raw materials was central to the neoliberal international development agenda. After colonial independence, the United States and Europe imposed development policies on "developing" nations that perpetuated colonial-era systems: Global South countries (periphery) would continue growing cash crops to sell cheaply to the Global North (core). In the 1990s, various Free Trade Agreements were adopted between the U.S. and Europe and ‘developing’ countries with promises of benefits for economic growth via increased trade. But the results have been questionable (who really economically benefited?).
For example, in Mexico, NAFTA meant that the country would begin to import cheap U.S. corn (mostly for livestock), which subsequently flooded the market and caused the price of domestically-grown corn to plummet. Unable to compete with subsidized imports, many farmers were left unable to make a living. An estimated 2 million farm workers abandoned the Mexican countryside, searching for work in cities, and eventually, abroad. The effects of this policy bring us back full circle to the topic of immigration, as a 75-percent increase in illegal immigration from Mexico in the five years after NAFTA took effect. Still, the dominant narrative around NAFTA is that is increased “efficiency” and “free trade”, words we have been told to believe are always positive. The media rarely connects the dots between neoliberal economic policies and their many unintended negative consequences. The current conversation about immigration of course does not recognize the complex reasons behind why so many people are immigrating, many of which are connected to these imposed food policies and the increasing effects of climate change.
Recently, Mexico attempted to ban GMO imports that were agreed to under NAFTA and restrict glyphosate, a controversial pesticide. The Mexican government faced political resistance from the United States and were legally challenged for trying to determine their own agricultural future. At the same time, Trump's Health and Human Services secretary RFK Jr. has been pledging to overhaul the U.S. food system—promising to ban glyphosate in and challenge major food conglomerates who he links to the epidemic of chronic diseases in America. Although Kennedy’s success at radically changing the U.S. food system seems unlikely (not only because of the President’s love of McDonalds, but also because of his record of prioritizing corporate and elite interests over all else) the irony shouldn't be lost that these domestic reforms are being discussed while the U.S. strong-arms countries like Mexico against making similar changes to their own food systems. Despite the verdict in favor of the U.S. and GMO corporations, people continue to fight. We should take inspiration from those in other countries who have been resisting unjust American policies for a very long time and continue to mobilize for self-sufficiency and environmental and social justice. Falling into despair is not an option.
For now, I urge those feeling powerless amid Trump's destructive actions to shift your focus from negative doom-scrolling towards what you can control.
Do you have the means to shop at independent grocery stores and farmers' markets? If so, do it! Research local farm box options and ways to directly support those who work hard everyday to fill your plates.
Have a garden space or sunny windowsill? Try growing some food! Greater self-sufficiency means less corporate control over our lives.
Love cooking? Make your own ferments, jams, soups, or sauces from whole foods. Reduce processed food purchases that primarily benefit major corporations and their shareholders. Whole foods are better for your body and a more socially conscious choice.
Limited time or means for cooking and farmers' markets? Choose family-owned restaurants over chains. Everyone can participate in boycotting ethically problematic brands and companies, and most of the time, your health will also thank you.
This is the beginning of a series that will explore indigenous resistance, culture, and politics in relation to food systems. I hope this series will inspire us to think about the power of collectivity, the beautiful connections between food and culture, and why we must continue to fight for a more just future.
I’m quickly becoming a radical fan of Radically Nourished. 🌱😎 Great read - please keep these articles coming with more actionable advice!
beautifully written and looking forward for the following articles!