How to Eat Right: Shorter Supply Chains Mean Greater Stability

Exposed.

That’s the one word that continues to crop up as people - from reporters to scientists - begin to take a closer look at how the U.S. food system continues to be impacted by Covid-19. The pandemic has pulled back the curtain on inefficiencies and inequality in a supply chain that was bound to snap eventually - even if we were previously unsure what would cause it to break.

Regardless, here we are. Supermarkets are raising the prices on the meat they sell and, as the Dallas Morning News reported in May, frequently limiting the number of items an individual is allowed to purchase at one time. Demand is high and supply is low, even as we see news footage of farmers euthanizing chickens and pigs.  

For anyone left scratching their head and wondering how it happened, look no further than the mergers and acquisitions that produced our current supply chain: one that is overly consolidated, dichotomous, and, now, when we most need it to be functionally in a healthy way, broken. 

Consolidation over the last 20-30 years has put much of the power into the hands of just a few. When a pandemic strikes and employees in meat processing facilities fall ill - last month The Guardian reported nearly half of U.S. coronavirus hotspots were linked to meat processing facilities - prompting its closure, that decreased supply is felt nationwide. There simply aren’t enough players to sustain demand when a Smithfield or a Tyson pulls back or drops out altogether. 

The split in our supply chain is perhaps best illustrated by the inability to communicate across more than one of its two links: retail outlets (like grocery stores) and institutional buyers (your schools, chain restaurants, etc.). Hampered by unhelpful regulations and contracts, farmers sell to one or the other, but not both. That hadn’t proved disastrous until restaurants and schools shut their doors or severely limited their output. Then, suddenly, those farmers had no one to sell to. This prompted the widespread (and seemingly avoidable) destruction of crops and animals alike.

In fairness, our food system has been broken for decades, however, it has been propped up by a revolving door of subsidies and bailouts - the programs least likely to reach anyone working outside of the industrial farming complex. The only thing that has mattered - and the very thing that has wrecked the U.S. food system - has been an obsession with price. Specifically low prices.

How low? Unrealistically low. Artificially low. And now we’re witnessing the cracks in the foundation spread, as they do. As for what comes next, there’s much speculation. Here’s what we know already:

There is a growing shift back to the way we used to buy and eat our food, and it isn’t reserved for urban hipsters. This is a family affair. The exposure brought by Covid-19 is proactively reminding Americans that they don’t just need farmers, they need to know farmers - personally. From the community-supported agriculture boom to the rebirth of farmers’ markets, buying directly from the source has all the benefits and none of the drawbacks. Fewer hands means less chance for contamination. Local owners, people you can actually talk to, means greater accountability and more attention to detail. And on more and more farms, the push away from pesticides and antibiotics - staples of the factory farm - means higher quality and better health for everyone involved.

It’s time to admit we were sold a lie. The industrial food complex isn’t the savior we were told it would be. It’s left us to pick up the pieces and clean up its mess. As they tend to do in moments of calamity, communities will band together to take care of each other. Our local farms and ranches are doing the essential work of growing our food and making sure we stay fed. It’s our responsibility to do our part by supporting them. Won’t you join me?