Author: Andrew Nind

  • Future vision part 2: diet

    “Simple action: eat vegetarian, six days out of seven.  Possible energy saving per person: 10 kilowatt hours per day.” Sustainable energy without the hot air, David JC Mackay, 2009

    “you’d have to eat six intensively reared chickens today to obtain the same amount of the healthy omega-3 fatty acid found in just one chicken in the 1970s” Appetite for Destruction, World Wildlife Fund, October 2017

    The place is Britain.  The year is 2118.

    Stuart has just done his weekly food shop and is unpacking the contents in the family kitchen.  He spreads them on the counter before putting them away.  Let’s take a look at them.

    How are they packaged?

    No plastic.  Well, not much.  Fruit and vegetables are sold uncovered at the store and transported in paper.  Drinking fluids in glass bottles and a few tins.  Cleaning fluids in recyclable plastic containers that have been refilled at the store.  Bread, grains, nuts and pasta in paper.  Meat is covered with throwaway plastic film, but Stuart has not bought much meat.  Toothpaste in resuable rubber tubes.  Stuart uses an electric razor.  No plastic carrier bags.

    The move away from plastic was a rare environmental success of the 21st century.  Coverage by a popular environmentalist named David Attenborough galvanized public awareness of the damage done by plastics in oceans; political resolve was strengthened further by a number of reports into the adverse health effects of plastic wrapping on human beings.  Over the ensuing decades plastic was – largely, not entirely – phased out of the food industry about as rapidly as it had been phased in during the 20th century.

    This change was not without its disadvantages.  Plastic had been helpful in preserving freshness and preventing infection.  But a cultural shift towards earlier pre-plastic habits, such as only eating produce in season and buying locally produced fruit and vegetables, tamed the need for it.  Fewer food miles meant less risk of disease being spread between countries via food transportation.  And it came to be thought that perhaps the emphasis on hygiene in the early 21st century had been excessive.  So that hygiene standards were lowered, but the nutritional value of food rose.

    It was a painful transition and initially went too far.  Some people died from infections that might have been prevented if some plastic wrapping had been maintained, particularly in relation to meat products.  Single-minded efforts to eliminate plastic also led initially to a rise in greenhouse gas emissions from a burst of enthusiasm for home cooking foods, such as bread, that are more efficiently produced in bulk.  By 2118, plastic has made a bit of a recovery; and a more sensible balance has been found.

    Since the terrible drought of 2100, there has been much more careful use of water, which has added to the difficulties of preserving freshness and hygiene.  Stuart has noticed that people buy food more frequently, with shorter intervals between successive shops, than they used to when he was a boy.

    What has he bought, or not?

    No meat.  Well, hardly any.  There has been a significant reduction in meat eating around the world and, as a result, human beings and their livestock no longer make up 90% of land mammals by mass: a partial recovery of wild animals has seen this percentage fall to 70%.  That less land is taken up by cattle and sheep, with the consequent reforestation of large areas, is a manifestation now visible from outer space.

    Stuart and his family still eat meat one day a week (Sunday treat).  He has had a few run-ins on the topic with his brother Steve, a principled vegan.  Stuart has expressed the view that there’s no need to be absolutist in one’s approach; Steve has expressed his view that there should be no compromise in the treatment of animals.

    But Stuart’s family is largely veggie, as are most people these days.  In the 21st century it had got to the point where the average factory chicken had much the same nutritional value as a cardboard box.  This rather dampened enthusiasm for eating meat; and eventually a combination of health concerns, rising costs, the energy-and-climate-change argument, and concerns about animal welfare – different factors weighing variously with different people – brought about a significant change in the average human diet at both the national and international level.

    Not much dairy.

    It is hard to do without milk and cheese completely.  Stuart has had run-ins with Steve about this.  Steve maintains that it’s cruel to separate calves from their mothers at birth.  Stuart claims that in some respects both calf and cow are in better health as a result, less at risk from certain diseases and, in the cow’s case, mastitis; and that in any case cows are not very bright or maternal and separation early on does not cause great distress.  Steve is totally unconvinced and says you cannot know how a cow thinks or feels.  Fortunately they have learnt how to be civil to one another, the brothers that is, in spite of the impasse.

    With reduced consumption of meat and dairy, the sources of protein which dominated in the 20th century are less pervasive in 2118.  For a long time, the prejudice against vegetarianism and veganism – namely that people who subscribed to either were likely to be weak, thin and undernourished – continued to hold sway in the general population.  But a growing band of doctors was eventually able to persuade the public and politicians that there was really not much of a medical basis to this claim.  And so Stuart’s shopping is rich in other sources of strength: quinoa, lentils and split peas, various beans and pulses, tofu, malt, …

    Local and seasonal produce.

    Stuart thinks fruit and vegetables taste better now than they did in the 21st century when they were eaten out-of-season, or picked unripe in order to be shipped thousands of miles to his local store.  Variety might be more limited – it being June, there are strawberries in the shop but no apples – but Stuart thinks the greater flavour makes it all worthwhile.

    What will he and his partner cook?

    Simple recipes.  Enforced to some extent by the greater emphasis placed on local produce, although a permaculture revolution has increased the variety of local produce from what it had been.

    Recipes that do not involve (much) cooking, most of the time, with exceptions at the weekend.  Back in the 21st century, it became fashionable for both men and women to devote many of their non-working hours to the kitchen.  There were shows like the Great British Bake Off that topped popularity ratings, encouraging millions to emulate the magnificent culinary creations seen on television.  There was little thought given to the energy or environmental footprint of these creations – until the damaging effects of biodiversity loss and global warming really started to affect people’s lives.  With nearly all scientists saying that the average carbon footprint had to fall to 2-3 tCO2 per person per annum, and that that amount was produced by the typical western diet on its own, before anything else in life was measured, the general public and their political masters finally appreciated that eating and cooking habits needed to change.

    Stuart remembers the arguments he used to have with his sister, Jane.  Jane thought he was a miserable individual, unable to enjoy life, who – especially in combination with Steve, who was beyond the pale – cast a sort of pall over any social gathering with his ascetic attitudes.  Stuart was on the defensive in those days: he used to argue back on the grounds of pragmatism, that patterns of consumption just had to change because they were not sustainable.

    But attitudes have changed now, so it’s no longer necessary to be quite so defensive.  It’s no longer thought that the secret to happiness is to eat all of the world’s foodstuffs, anymore than it is to visit all of the world’s cities.  Most studies of happiness in the 21st century, and there were many of them as psychology became very popular, concluded that human populations in western countries were not actually very happy, despite an embarrassment of culinary riches.  Daily chocolate, daily cake, daily anxiety.  Add in the enviromental degradation, the growing cost, health problems, falling nutritional value … and fancy food lost its status as the source of eternal bliss.

    Supported by physiological and psychological evidence, a few brave politicians started to talk in terms of “less is more”, a catch-phrase borrowed from a late 20th century beer advertisement.  “Less is more” sounded punitive and dour at first, but wasn’t, because overconsumption was not making people happy.  It was a slow process – in fact it took decades – but people in Britain gradually adapted to simpler and more local fare, to less meat and less sugar.  Less chocolate.  More energy.  More robustness to infection.  More happiness.  Aided by the fact that the human population needed to change its ways in order to survive, the pioneering politicians started to gain traction.

    It wasn’t about banning anything.  It was still possible to drink wine and eat cake.  It was just that cake returned to being something to be had maybe once a week or fortnight, not a daily item in the office or home.  And, unless you were a strict vegan, with meat as with cake – not censored but no longer for every day or even most days.

    Rewards and celebrations could, and increasingly did, take forms other than feasts.  Dinner parties continued – after all, it was a natural human urge to gather and eat together – but the produce on offer became a little less fancy.  The simplification of fare had a side benefit that hosts and guests could pay more attention to each other; and, oddly enough, a good time was still had by all.

     

  • Future vision part 1: holidays

    The place is Britain.  The year is 2118.

    Emma has just finished planning the family holiday.  Cycling from their home to the Mediterranean coast of France, getting the train back.  One short, one long route each day on the way out, to cater for tastes and energy levels.  Mix of B&Bs and chambres d’hotes on the way down, a week’s airbnb near the coast.

    Before the Resource Wars of the 21st century, people used to fly everywhere on holiday, oblivious to the land and sea they were crossing en route.  Man-made global warming, with transport contributions making up the largest sectoral share, led to catastrophic changes in rainfall patterns in the U.S. and the first Water War – a land grab  of western Canada by the Americans, with the Canadians hopelessly outgunned – ensued in 2068.  This was closely followed by the second Water War in the Middle East and the third, a nuclear confrontation between India and Pakistan over the latter’s water security in Kashmir.  In other parts of the world such as sub-saharan Africa, people just died in greater numbers without a named conflict to mark the occasion.  All told, experts put the number of deaths related to water shortages globally at close to a billion during the second half of the century, with Asia and Africa suffering the greatest losses.

    Any yet it wasn’t primarily the shocking spectacle of these wars that dissuaded people from flying.  Increased turbulence from more disturbance in the atmosphere (faster surface evaporation associated with climate change led to increased energy levels in the stratosphere, and consequently to stronger and more variable winds) put off those with a poor stomach.  But the real impact was from much higher fuel prices as eventually the supplies of jet kerosene started to wane.  (Batteries had been made to work for short-haul flights but proved physically impossible for long distances.)  It just became too expensive for most of us to afford.

    Needs must, not only practically but also psychologically.  As people experienced the disappointment of the intercontinental holidays enjoyed by their parents becoming inaccessible to them, they began to question the merit of those holidays and to talk up the advantages of nearer destinations that one could reach on land and by boat.  Schools started to teach not only about the damage caused by long-distance travel – both in terms of climate change and also the spread of disease (an antibiotic-resistant superbug epidemic killed tens of millions in western Europe in 2071) – but also about its motivation in the following two additions to the national curriculum in education.

    Firstly, humanities classes taught that it was no longer necessary to travel far to experience different cultures: excellent communications let us see them on our screens at home.  Our cities had become so cosmopolitan that most of the world’s languages and cultures could be experienced in them without having to visit their places of origin.  And it was taught that becoming broad-minded and tolerant is about noticing, thinking about and caring for people and other life forms around us – and about always being willing to admit that one’s own views might be mistaken – rather than about travelling thousands of miles to similar hotels at dissimilar latitudes.

    Secondly, in a growing emphasis on the subject of psychology, pupils were taught about the causes of restlessness.  It was increasingly understood that if people are over-fed, under-exercised (mentally as well as physically), lonely, and/or over-exposed to tempting or disturbing images – not to mention images of people who are better-looking or just better at something – their restlessness grows, with manic travel being one possible outlet.

    To assist the psychologists in countering this restlessness, a few enlightened politicians drove through a variety of measures – in the workplace as well as in schools – to increase the population’s participation in local sports, societies, on-going education and charitable ventures.  The belated introduction of standards for internet content was also finally agreed on an international scale.

    There was also the more prosaic influence that travel became less interesting.  For instance, study of the Great Barrier Reef was added to the history syllabus in schools: apparently a quarter of the world’s fish species used to congregate in a large coral reef off Australia’s east coast, before the coral was killed by rising temperatures and acidification, and unceremoniously pulverised for building material.  With no wild places left on Earth, travel lost a bit of its romance.

    So Emma has not lost too much sleep over the fact that when she was her eldest’s age, her parents took her to the Maldives (now under water).  She does not think the cycling trip to Nice is mean by comparison.  After all, Nice is now just as warm in summer as the Maldives were then; and the mode of transport will be much more comfortable and illuminating (not just cheaper) than a plane.  After a hot swim, the family will still be able to eat from a wide range of global cuisine, or watch a film in any language.

    If she has a tinge of regret that Nice is hardly exotic, it is easily tempered by the knowledge that nowhere is anymore.