I hate to come off as a doomsday prepper, but I must admit that in the past month, I’ve been accumulating food supplies. If you’re able, I believe you should consider doing the same. I’ve set aside 25kg of rice, 15kg of dried chickpeas, 15kg of bread flour, 7kg of chapati flour, 5kg of oats, six litres of vegetable oil, a container of tinned tomatoes, along with some nuts and dried fruit. This, combined with the vegetables we cultivate, amounts to roughly two months’ worth of provisions for our family.
I sincerely hope we won’t need to rely on this stockpile. However, if we find ourselves not needing this buffer, we can always consume what we’ve saved. Oddly enough, I view this gathering of supplies as a positive social action. By creating a reserve while food is plentiful, we help ease demand during a crisis. Community-wide efforts to stockpile and enhance resilience would be even more beneficial. Yet, I’m not waiting around.
In my research for the book Regenesis, I discovered the alarming dependence of food-importing nations on the US. Nearly 60% of the calories produced by farmers consist of wheat, rice, maize, and soybeans. As nations have diverged into major exporters and heavy importers, the production of these commodities has become heavily centralized in just a few countries, with the US being one of the leading exporters of all four.
It seems unlikely that there will be a deliberate attempt to cut off supplies to the UK. However, that’s not the main concern. The real issue lies in the fact that even a small disruption in supply, which Donald Trump’s actions may exacerbate, could lead to a sudden global crisis within the food system. Potential risks for interruptions include software failures, military actions targeting crucial trade routes, and the collapse of large corporate food companies that have grown too big to fail.
Trump’s influence will also likely contribute to environmental shocks. The emerging “whiplash effect”—where moderate weather is replaced by cycles of drought and floods—could lead to synchronized crop failures in vital agricultural regions.
Since 2015, numerous studies in scientific journals have cautioned that the global food system is suffering from structural issues akin to those that plagued the global financial system before 2008. We’ve witnessed a rapid decrease in diversity, redundancy, and other critical components of systemic resilience. The food system shows signs of “flickering,” with increasing fluctuations in output values (like commodity prices) that hint at impending collapse. While governments managed to avert financial collapse in 2008 by creating future money, they have no way of preventing a collapse in the food system by creating future food.
Since those warnings, concerns have only escalated. Some governments have taken action, with countries like China, Japan, Switzerland, and Norway investing in grain stockpiles. These food reserves not only serve as a safeguard against disaster but can also act as buffers to prevent prices from skyrocketing.
A Led By Donkeys billboard featuring Michael Gove in Stoke on Trent, England, 2021. Photograph: Nathan Stirk/Getty Images
When I inquired with the UK government about whether it maintains strategic food reserves, my question was met with silence. Upon further prompting, they stated, “we don’t comment on matters related to national security.” That’s a dismal excuse. Other governments keep their citizens informed on such matters, fostering trust and reassurance. Even Boris Johnson’s administration provided a candid response to my question in 2020, stating there were “no” reserves then, and I suspect that’s still the case today, which likely explains this absurd obfuscation.
As highlighted by the National Preparedness Commission, which recently assessed UK food security: “If the absence of policy stems from a desire not to alarm the public, this is a hazardous approach. The public needs to be involved in preparation efforts.” Their report exposes the almost farcical failures of successive governments, showing a consistent lack of seriousness regarding food system resilience and public engagement. They’ve sidestepped every opportunity to enhance the robustness of the food system. Instead of establishing a security strategy, the government places blind trust in a commercial sector that relies on just-in-time logistics, exposing us to significant risks.
While reserves are essential, they are not the sole solution for building resilience. It’s important to note that food nationalism isn’t synonymous with food security—in some ways, it’s counterproductive, as global trade cushions us against local crop failures. Here are some additional steps the government could consider.
A second world war Dig for Victory leaflet Photograph: LH Images/Alamy
The UK does produce a considerable amount of grain; however, far too little of it directly nourishes people. You may be aware of the unreasonable cosmetic standards that supermarkets impose on fruit and vegetable farmers. However, the requirements set by mills and other processors are often even stricter. For example, while a diverse range of flours can be used to make bread, as one farmer pointed out, mills insist on “total consistency.” Every loaf must be identical, meaning every batch of grain must meet specific standards. They demand a protein content exceeding 12%, a Hagberg falling number over 300, and a moisture content of 15%. Any deviation results in the grain being disqualified as milling wheat and instead allocated for animal feed, leading to a reduced price for farmers. There are no allowances made. Suggestions are not entertained. Relaxing these standards could significantly increase the availability of food for human consumption.
Furthermore, reducing our consumption of animal products can also lead to a substantial increase in available food. On a global scale, a plant-based diet requires 76% less land compared to our current average diet. In the UK, 85% of our farmland is dedicated to raising livestock. Even sheep, which many believe live solely on grass, actually consume vast amounts of supplementary cereals and oilseeds.
A government initiative to lower livestock consumption could bolster both food system resilience and ecological stability, as our underperforming uplands could be restored to their natural state. One positive step the government is taking is to expedite the approval of alternatives. For instance, precision fermentation could significantly boost our protein production, drastically decreasing the need for food and fertilizer imports.
However, merely replacing food imports does not enhance resilience if it leads to increased fertilizer imports, and the UK still heavily relies on them. We must aim to achieve high yields using fewer inputs. A better understanding of the soil could allow us to lean more on biological processes (the intricate interactions between plants and microbes) rather than chemical solutions. Recent breakthroughs have been made, although soil science continues to be severely underfunded.
Governments must dismantle corporate monopolies: robust anti-trust laws should be enacted, and intellectual property rights should be minimized. They should actively involve citizens in decision-making processes, similar to Taiwan’s approach in times of crisis. There should be a commitment to ensure that every person, including those living in poverty, is adequately fed at all times. Right now, if a crisis arises, many are left helpless. I mean starved.
Our supplies are now neatly packed and organized. Some friends and neighbors have started to do the same. Yet we do this with the awareness that individual actions alone are insufficient. No one can be truly secure until everyone is secure, especially those in the greatest need. My stocked shelves offer me no satisfaction. It shouldn’t have come to this.
