How misaligned metrics obscure a $2 trillion problem within our food system.
The way we obtain food and nourish ourselves is central to the lives of billions. It’s so central that we take it for granted. Therefore the food system — and the health, environmental, social justice, and economic pain points it feeds — become invisible. However, there are many opportunities to examine our modern food system and apply diverse thinking, methodologies, and metrics to improve our health, protect our environment, promote socioeconomic equity, and alleviate poverty.
The foundation of our modern food system is industrial agriculture. The goal of industrial agriculture is to lower costs and increase “productivity”, thus providing a higher standard of living as measured by available goods and services. The main objectives include[1]:
- Cheap and plentiful food
- Convenience for the consumer
- The contribution to our economy on multiple levels, from growers to harvesters, processors, and sellers
There is also the old adage: “What gets measured is what gets done.” Yet, we narrowly measure success through agricultural “productivity”: total inputs divided by total outputs. These metrics ignore health, environmental, social justice, and indirect economic outcomes. If the metrics by which we measure the success of the food system do not align with the following outcomes, then we are not likely to achieve success. Further, we cannot claim we have a successful food system, and we are likely to be unaware of our shortcomings in reaching success.
Food System Success Outcomes We Should Measure
- Access by all to nutrition that supports a healthy and productive lifestyle
- Production and distribution of food by sustainable and ecologically sound methods
- Creation of jobs that will support a decent standard of living
Author of U.S. Agriculture in the Twentieth Century, Bruce Gardner describes the US as having the “most successful program of agricultural development of any country in the world.” Gardner cites metrics such as a 2% annual increase in U.S. agricultural productivity between 1930 and 2000. The resulting increase in food supply, in turn, decreased the prices paid by consumers: “The percentage of U.S. disposable income spent on food prepared at home decreased, from 22 percent as late as 1950 to 7 percent by the end of the century.”
By these measures, the industrial agriculture system is successful, however, there are many critical metrics omitted here which would tell a different story.
Our food system is broken.
Our focus on high yields disregards the scarcity, and thus cost, of the inputs and the often destructive methods by which they are obtained. Destructive land clearing methods such as slash-and-burn have led to shorter fallow periods, falling yields, and soil erosion. Plowing and fertilizers were introduced in the late 19th and early 20th centuries to address these problems[2], but these proved ineffective, ultimately requiring more labor and releasing more CO2 and chemicals to the environment. Farmers have since turned to mechanization, the use of chemicals, and GMO seeds, all methods that are costly to farmers as well as the environment. To maximize output and thus productivity, farmers are encouraged to scale. Yet, for this, they must incur debt that places them in a financially vulnerable position and ultimately render farms more vulnerable to harm or loss. This perpetuates a cycle of economic uncertainty [3] and depression that likely contributes to a suicide rate among male farmworkers in the US that is 58% higher than that of the average working American male [4].
Even with the short-term focus on high yields, the industrial agriculture system is highly inefficient in the mid- and long-terms, intentionally decreasing biodiversity through the characterizing use of monoculture. GMO seeds make for an easier harvest, but reduce biodiversity thus rendering the crops uniformly susceptible to pests, diseases, and abnormal weather events. Consequently, our topsoil is now depleted which limits the suitability of the land to support future yields.
Access to nutritious food is limited. 39.4 million people in the US are at least 0.5 miles from a store and without a vehicle, thus limiting their access to healthy food sources[5]. The foods most widely distributed through the food system are white flour, high-fructose corn syrup, and refined soybean oil[6]. These ultra-processed foods, from which 60% of our calories come[7], are directly linked to higher body fat percentages, cholesterol, and blood sugar, and thus higher mortality risk [8].
There is a gross lack of nutrition education in the US. Nutritional education is not a part of most public or private school curriculums. Meanwhile processed foods corporations have highly targeted ads in grocery stores and advertising deals with schools. In the absence of nutrition education and easy access to healthy food, the vast majority of people in America do not follow dietary guidelines[9]:
Yet, even if we all wanted to eat more veggies, the industrial agriculture system could not support it. Only 5% of vegetables grown in the US are sold as fresh produce. The remaining 95% are intended for other commercial uses such as processing and packaging foods, feeding livestock, and producing biofuel[10]. The 5% of fresh vegetable produce is likely not enough supply for the 90% of Americans who do not currently meet vegetable intake guidelines.
Animals are treated inhumanely. 90% of farmed animals globally are living in factory farms[11]. Most experience suffering in stressful, crowded conditions.
Decision-making for local populations with diverse needs is consolidated into the hands of few. Increasingly, local food producers have ceded control, first to regional, then to national, and even international decision-makers. By encouraging this consolidation with their dollars, consumers unknowingly have done the same. Today, 20% of farms control nearly 70% of US farmland, while four meatpackers slaughter 85% of beef. Four companies control 66% of all hog slaughter, and nationally, four firms control 63% of the retail market — and in some local markets, that percentage is as high as 80%[12]. When disaster strikes, as it does increasingly often due to climate change, we are left with no recourse but the nearest supermarket. We completely depend on retail demand planning and partnerships these retailers have formed throughout their supply chain for food to nourishourselves and our families.
The Costs
Food system shortcomings have direct adverse, quantifiable effects on consumer health and wellbeing.
Life expectancy in the US is declining for the first time since World War I [13][14]. 88% of people in the US, one of the most developed countries, are metabolically unfit [15] putting them at risk of chronic illness. U.S. prevalence is above average for four of the leading chronic illnesses: cardiovascular diseases, cancer, chronic respiratory diseases, and mental health conditions[16][17].
As a result of soil erosion and nutrient depletion, we no longer obtain the nutrients we need from our diets. 31% of the U.S. population is at risk for at least one vitamin deficiency or anemia[18].
The total costs in the U.S. for direct health care treatment of chronic health conditions totaled $1.1 trillion in 2016 alone. Including the indirect costs of lost economic productivity, the total costs of chronic diseases in the U.S. increase to $3.7 trillion, or 19.6% of the U.S. GDP [19]. Food is considered the number one cause of chronic illness. A study published in 2019 evaluated data collected over a 27-year period to assess the adverse effects of dietary risks on human health and productivity[20]. The study indicated that in 2017 alone, 11 million deaths and 255 million years of disability and life years had been lost due to dietary risk factors brought on by lack of nutritious food consumption, and surplus of unhealthy food consumption. Together with physical inactivity, eating an energy-rich, nutrient-poor diet predisposes one to many chronic diseases, including type 2 diabetes mellitus, cardiovascular disease, cancer, and osteoporosis [21]. Yet, even if we only consider the cost of obesity, 47.1% of the total cost of chronic diseases, in the U.S., that conservatively totals $1.72 trillion. And this does not even consider the cost of the environmental damage of a broken food system.
Agricultural productivity (total outputs divided by total inputs), cheap and plentiful food, convenience for the consumer, and job availability within the food system — the measure of success employed by industrial agriculturalists — do not account for any of the outcomes listed above.
What’s Next?
We need to align metrics to a truly successful food system that considers the impacts on a whole ecosystem and places value on quality, not just quantity. Beyond productivity, more comprehensive metrics such as those set forth by the Journal of Sustainability[22]:
- Contribution to soil health
- Food nutrient adequacy
- Ecosystem stability
- Food affordability and availability
- Sociocultural wellbeing
- Food safety
- Resilience
- Waste and loss reduction
I do not aim to vilify industrial agriculture as it reflects but one iteration in a 100,000-year story. Ultimately, the evolution of the agriculture system has supported population growth of 6 million to 7.8 billion over the last 30,000 years — a relatively short amount of time compared to the 7 million-year history of humanity. But, with the huge strides we’ve made in the realms of technology, business, and design, we can do better. And doing so begins with reassessing the metrics by which we define and track towards success.
It’s no longer time to marvel at the size of the problem, but time to start collaborating. Evidently, the food system drives problems related to health, environment, economics, and society. As such, tackling this problem will take interdisciplinary teams of diverse thinkers.
Stay tuned for more. In the meantime, join the conversation! Leave a comment, or shoot me a message. Let’s start solving problems.
