Critical Eye... on protein pills and climate-change CassandrasCharlie Wright, The Grocer 22 August 2009 In: Columnists | |
Turns out Barbarella wasn't a documentary. Food pills that fit in the back pocket of your silver jumpsuit, personalised hovercrafts powered by wide-eyed optimism all complete rubbish.
Actually, our most evocative visions of the future are usually bleak, from 1984 to The Terminator and to that canon of dystopian nightmares we can add The Future of Food (BBC2, Monday).
It painted a picture of food riots, famine and political upheaval, soaring populations and dwindling resources. The kicker, of course, is that it's already happening.
Delivering these inconvenient truths was journalist-with-a-conscience George Alagiah, who took us from a well-stocked Ridley Road market to suicidal Punjabi farm workers, via a series of increasingly terrifying foodie facts. Like the 15 litres of water it takes to produce 1g of lamb (even Morrisons' cutlets are bigger than that). Or the two pints of black stuff it takes to produce a pub-grub roast dinner.
Sadly, breaking our dependence on Guinness (or was it crude oil?) is the sort of seismic shift in which one person can't make a difference although you can help recycle by eating kebabs. Indeed, meat may soon be off the menu altogether, like in oil-starved Cuba. We also toured Kenya's decimated cattle country and saw how Mexico has shed its staple diet of Doritos and Taco Bell for unhealthy junk food.
Still, there was a time when 'food security' meant hiding your cheese from ravenous housemates. And now politicians are swarming over the issue like flies on schnitzel, having realised limitless expenses won't help if there's no grub on the shelves of Fortnum & Mason.
But as every climate change Cassandra knows, folks don't like bad news. The message most of us will probably take away: eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.
That's certainly been the philosophy for Kerry 'Chip Shop' Katona, the walking vortex of self-destructive PR who this week was finally cut loose from those Iceland ads (ITV, usually during Emmerdale) after the latest allegations of recreational nostril-bashing.
At least that's one Western consumer who'll be cutting back on the exotic imports from now on.