In his book, “We Are the Weather,” the brilliant Jonathan Safran Foer writes, “Saving the planet begins at breakfast.” Foer explains, “The real choice we all face is not what to buy, whether to fly or have children, but whether we are willing to commit to living ethically in a broken world, a world in which human beings are dependent for collective survival on a kind of ecological grace … How can we create limits to share what is left?”
As a filmmaker, I’ve had the privilege of speaking to audiences around the globe about our environment, our oceans, and our food supply. I’m deeply aligned with Foer’s powerful point that “Every time we say crisis, we are also saying decision.” Last year, I produced two films that underscore the importance of paying attention to the natural environment — “Kiss the Ground,” and “Gunda” by the amazing Viktor Kossakovsky. Back in 2014 I made a film called “Food for Thought Food for Life” which illuminated the problems associated with agribusiness practices and introduced viewers to the farmers, chefs, researchers, educators, and advocates who were offering real solutions. It was a labor of love that was designed to inspire communities and individuals ready to make a difference.
In the last several years, I’ve gone to eating 99 percent plant-based for my nutritional needs. It’s what looks best to me for both planetary and human health. Animal agriculture’s tremendous impact on our planet has me putting far more emphasis on fruits, legumes, and vegetables and eating more simply. I think of Michael Pollan’s wise comment that everything he’s learned about food and health can be summed up in seven words: “Eat food, not too much, mostly plants.” The simplicity of the basics appeal to me as does the concept of moving from consumption to creativity, taking delight in savoring simple foods. There’s nothing better than a ripe tomato with sea salt and basil or a simply roasted baked potato.
As we all know too well, the Covid-19 pandemic caused unprecedented disruptions in so much of our lives. It also illuminated the fragility of our food system. Restaurants and schools closed and there were farms and products with no markets. These disruptions magnified the existing inequalities and problems. There’s far too much food loss and waste (an estimated 30 percent of the food produced for human consumption globally is lost or wasted somewhere along the food supply chain). The pandemic has provided us with a unique opportunity to commit to changing our food systems for greater efficiency, health, sustainability, and equality.
My husband and my mantra is to “Protect What is Precious.” We believe in healthy soils and healthy seas. As board members of Oceana, we work to protect the oceans and at Stone Barns Center for Food & Agriculture, we advocate for regenerative agriculture, local and nutrient dense foods, and the elimination of food waste at every stage of the supply chain. We need visionaries to transform our food system to make it nourishing, regenerative, and equitable. Policymakers must aspire to more fundamental changes in the food systems to address issues around disease, climate, the economy, and conflict. We all can vote three times a day for a food culture that nourishes us and takes care of our planet.
Wendell Berry, the famous author, poet, naturalist, and farmer in Kentucky writes movingly of the care a farmer bestows on the land: “If the supply of food is to be continuous for a long time, then people must work in harmony with nature. That means that people must find the right answers to a lot of hard practical questions.”
When I’m in the Hamptons, I love visiting farm stands and buying from local vendors who have passion for delicious food. Every year I look forward to early corn lightly steamed, or cut kernels added to a salad. In Bridgehampton, I have my own garden and relish the abundance of it all. Growing of plants deepens my love of what nature provides for us. I do know that when people get involved in growing and making their own food, their relationship to food and our earth can change profoundly to one of reverence and delight. My hope is that people understand that the act of eating is both a spiritual, environmental, and political act and a celebration of community, farmers, culture, soil, and soul. We all can make choices and in so doing commit to being part of a food system that is economically feasible, environmentally dependable, and socially responsible.