Our food, says Michael Pollan (Omnivore’s Dilemma) is “drenched in fossil fuel” (183). He goes on to say, “Today it takes between seven and ten calories of fossil fuel energy to deliver one calorie of food energy to an American plate…only a fifth of the total energy used to feed us is consumed on the farm; the rest is spent processing the food and moving it around” (183). Why is this topic so completely missing from energy conservation conversations?
What are your suggestions for improving this situation? Does it matter?
Friday, September 29, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
I am corn walking.
I’m reading the Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan, a story of our food. I had heard Pollan interviewed on NPR and read reviews of the book, and the book is much more interesting than I expected. I grew up on a farm (and presently own 1/5 of that farm), and sensed a vast change in how food is grown (or should we say manufactured) now. Omnivore’s Dilemma gives substance to those suspicions. To me, former farmer, it’s a heartbreaking picture but fascinating nevertheless.
Our food supply seems to be organized around corn (with soybeans in second place). Pollan says, the Maya were so dependent on corn as a food that they sometimes referred to themselves as “the corn people.” They might say, “I am corn walking” (19). However, we in the U. S. now consume more corn than Mexicans; we just consume in indirectly in the form of corn fed meats and colas sweetened with high-fructose corn syrup. Corn is turned into acids, sugars, starches, and alcohols. You are seeing corn on the ingredient list when you see “citric and lactic acid; glucose, fructose, and maltodextrin; ethanol, sorbitol, mannitol, and xanthan gum; modified and unmodified starches; as well as dextrins and cyclodextrins and MSG, to name only a few” (86). I checked the label on my Cheerios this morning. Modified corn starch is the second ingredient and corn starch is the third. Read this book and be depressed.
Our food supply seems to be organized around corn (with soybeans in second place). Pollan says, the Maya were so dependent on corn as a food that they sometimes referred to themselves as “the corn people.” They might say, “I am corn walking” (19). However, we in the U. S. now consume more corn than Mexicans; we just consume in indirectly in the form of corn fed meats and colas sweetened with high-fructose corn syrup. Corn is turned into acids, sugars, starches, and alcohols. You are seeing corn on the ingredient list when you see “citric and lactic acid; glucose, fructose, and maltodextrin; ethanol, sorbitol, mannitol, and xanthan gum; modified and unmodified starches; as well as dextrins and cyclodextrins and MSG, to name only a few” (86). I checked the label on my Cheerios this morning. Modified corn starch is the second ingredient and corn starch is the third. Read this book and be depressed.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
A Thin Democracy
In my most recent issue of UU World Frances Moore Lappé writes about American democracy: “[T]he unpleasant fact [is] that democracy and the now-dominant version of a market economy are actually based on opposing principles. Democracy depends on the wide dispersion of power so that each of us has a voice. But our peculiar version of the market is driven by a single rule, highest return to existing wealth, that does the opposite: It inexorably concentrates wealth and power, denying people a real voice…”
She then talks about the wealth gap. She says, “Such extreme concentration of wealth overwhelms elected governments and destroys open markets. Sixty-one lobbyists now walk the corridors of power in Washington, D. C., for every elected representative. I call this unworkable frame Thin Democracy.”
Lappé belives we can replace Thin Democracy with what she calls Living Democracy. I understand her analysis of the problem. I’m still studying her Living Democracy solution. You can read the article and the website of the Small Planet Institute.
She then talks about the wealth gap. She says, “Such extreme concentration of wealth overwhelms elected governments and destroys open markets. Sixty-one lobbyists now walk the corridors of power in Washington, D. C., for every elected representative. I call this unworkable frame Thin Democracy.”
Lappé belives we can replace Thin Democracy with what she calls Living Democracy. I understand her analysis of the problem. I’m still studying her Living Democracy solution. You can read the article and the website of the Small Planet Institute.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Rachel Corrie
Until yesterday morning, I didn’t know much about Rachel Corrie, just that she was a peace activist who was killed when an Israeli bulldozer ran over her—intentionally it seemed. Yesterday morning at the South Bend First Unitarian, four members gave a presentation, reading emails Rachel Corrie had sent before her death along with other readings and songs. I hadn’t really wanted to know more about Rachel Corrie, maybe because, even from the sketchy information I had, it was obvious this story would be complicated. But it wasn’t a complicated story. The Israeli/Palistine conflict is complicated, but it seems very uncomplicated that young women don’t need to be killed to expedite Palestinian home demolitions in Rafah.
Rachel Corrie was young (24), idealistic, and articulate. Her emails show a thoughtful woman interested in justice. Apparently, this concern for others began in her childhood. Like Corrie, when I was a child, I assumed I would grow up and fix the messes of the world. Unlike Corrie, by the time I was her age, I had already despaired of my ability to change the world. I lack(ed) the courage to act as she did. I am also too rational. I would say to myself, what difference can a protest make? Yet, hearing Rachel Corrie’s story, I was incredibly moved, and I know she made a difference in a complicated, violent conflict. And her story calls me to, somehow, shift the way I respond to the world’s lack of humanity.
Also, Rachel Corrie’s story offers an opportunity to experience my sorrow instead of my despair. Her story reminds me that there are truer emotions than anger and despair. Like the child I so often leave behind, these stories of violence break my heart. Anger has its place, but my heart tells me that sorrow is a truer place than anger.
Rachel Corrie was young (24), idealistic, and articulate. Her emails show a thoughtful woman interested in justice. Apparently, this concern for others began in her childhood. Like Corrie, when I was a child, I assumed I would grow up and fix the messes of the world. Unlike Corrie, by the time I was her age, I had already despaired of my ability to change the world. I lack(ed) the courage to act as she did. I am also too rational. I would say to myself, what difference can a protest make? Yet, hearing Rachel Corrie’s story, I was incredibly moved, and I know she made a difference in a complicated, violent conflict. And her story calls me to, somehow, shift the way I respond to the world’s lack of humanity.
Also, Rachel Corrie’s story offers an opportunity to experience my sorrow instead of my despair. Her story reminds me that there are truer emotions than anger and despair. Like the child I so often leave behind, these stories of violence break my heart. Anger has its place, but my heart tells me that sorrow is a truer place than anger.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
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