The Pennsylvania Association for Sustainable Agriculture conference ended yesterday, after four days of familial, and at the same time professional, discussions on food sovereignty. What is this and why should you care? I purchased 5 books and listened to 3 days worth of lecture/discussions to help further my comprehension of this philosophy. But for those who insist on soundbite answers to problems that seem out of reach or relation to their lives, here is a two-sentence explanation to start you off. Remember, you eat therefore you are. Please read beyond the first two sentences (and thank you Descartes for a philosophical statement that proves equally intriguing when applied to our world food systems).

Food Sovereignty is the “claimed ‘right of peoples to define their own food, agriculture, livestock and fisheries systems,’ in contrast to having food largely subject to international market forces.” (taken directly from the Wikipedia definition). You should care about this because you are more than a consumer; as a human being you have the right to safe, healthy and fair food – food which the currently corporately-owned food trade and political structures do not allow you to participate in beyond shelling out greenbacks – which, as we have all learned of bailout-late, do not provide accountability in our worldwide business exchanges.

Raj Patel, author of Stuffed and Starved, spoke at the conference with regard to what extent this right defines our lives. Not only should you be able to know where your food came from, but also how it was produced, how the workers were treated who cut and packaged that bite of spinach . . . and you should be able to enjoy that salad. The Slow Food organization rallied back in 1986 to the reality of pleasure human beings experience, and how everyone has the right to such. But how does this apply to your life of delicious chicken wings on football Sundays and artichoke dip at cocktail parties?

Consider a point Patel related to his admittedly food-loving audience: Americans eat twenty percent of our fast meals in the car. Who amongst us can truthfully profess a fondness for this situation? Has love for the open, albeit traffic jammed, road gone so far as to replace the value of a place setting, table and chair? Or would you agree you prefer your dinners, prepared on average in two-and-a-half minutes, to any more satisfying amount of time you could spend eating a meal with friends or family? Or alone for that matter? I know I adore a great breakfast, both having time to prepare real eggs and sitting at the table with family to prepare for the day together.

From elementary school up through television-as-educator media programs, we have learned that the food we eat directly impacts our bodies and minds, for better or for worse. So why, as obesity and diabetes rates soar, are we not able and willing to spend more money on such a broad-reaching necessity of life? Is it perhaps because the moola you earn funnels directly into fueling your work commute? Or paying your health insurance? Or paying for your child’s education? Why don’t we have a look at these patterns?

The questions, I believe, should stretch much farther than the routines we get through each day. Inherent in our food selection are the lives of innumerable farmers and laborers, both local and international, some also store front owners, some distributors. I may be able to shop at a health food type store, and purchase $6 organic cereal in lieu of $2 cereal. I have more access to fresh fruits and vegetables than very poor people who have no access to grocery stores, particularly in areas of our nation’s large cities. To some extent, my access implies more choice. But taking another look through the optical illusion land of grocery stores, gas food marts, health food stores, etc., we realize that my access and my choices are largely decided for me.

I don’t want a corporation to decide whether Peru or Ecuador will provide my apples during winter. Nor do I want a dairy conglomerate to decide what hormones are ’safe’ be convincing my legislator to agree with them upon payment. I also don’t want my country dropping food off for starving people elsewhere in the world without consulting international aid groups on how to get help where it is needed by working with regional food resources.

I do want a local food economy in which information is always available on who grew my carrots. I want food distribution systems that get fresh food to everyone. Everyone. I want eaters who value the food they put in their bodies three times a day to be willing and able to spend more than 9.8 percent of their income on it, ensuring a viable income for everyone in the business of feeding us. Sure, in 1929 we spent more on food. We didn’t have cable television bills, or red-eye flights to Vegas. But as the years have passed and luxuries have become necessities, it’s time to reconsider.

On to Descartes and the illusion of choice in my next posting . . . what began as a soundbite for mass consumption will most certainly extend into one of those full day feasts Jim Harrison embarks upon in his quests for pleasure. In the meantime, check out Via Campesina and pick up a copy of The No-Nonsense Guide to World Food, by Wayne Roberts for more background information.