Exetera Magazine
THE FINDUS LASAGNE OF GLOBAL FOOD POLITICS What’s for dinner? Probably ideology, argues Oli Picken
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hat we’re swallowing along with our food isn’t always on the ingredients list as the Findus horsemeat’s scandal proved. But these unexpected extras don’t all contain calories. In The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology, in collaboration with Sophie Finnes, the philosopher Slavoj Zizek touches on the politics of food in Late Capitalism. His suggestion is that as subjects of this system, food must be consumed on two levels: physically – for calories to continue our lives (also Capitalism, but through our lives) – and ideologically. This means that we participate in a mode of production that persuades us to buy food wildly misaligned with our nutritional requirements. This second stage creates a “weird perverted duty” to enjoy our food. It is not enough simply to take pleasure in food; instead, we must actively transform the process of eating into a performance in which getting energy plays second fiddle to an ideological “enjoyment”. In short, we define ourselves by what we consume – just like with any other aspect of Late Capitalism. Zizek takes the example of the Kinder Egg, the food and toy part of which are both, objectively, a bit shit. If a product tester on the street offered us 20g of low quality chocolate and a piece of moulded plastic in another situation, I for one would proba-
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bly brush them off with a quick “I’ve already voted, thanks.” Wrapped in orange and white foil however, and packaged as an essential childhood treat, parents, children, and the odd nostalgic student (which we can assume by their otherwise inexplicable presence in the Guild shop) will throw money away on them. But what is this nostalgia? My only memory of eating a Kinder Surprise is one of disappointment: both parts left me unsatisfied, leaving my four-year-old body deprived of the massive sugar hit required to make the human-head/ car hybrid an object of fun. This was not enough to prevent an identical demand from whichever unfortunate parent happened to be looking after me the following day, week or month. I was, even then, a good subject, playing my part in a cultural, and marketing, narrative. And yes, I have in the past year wondered what it would be like to have one again, momentarily recalling a childhood joy that I never experienced. This seems to be a trend in food production – especially the marketing side of things – in our current moment: we continue to hark bark to an un-experienced past. Take the patronising bullshit that defaces the side of Innocent Smoothies cartons, for instance. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good fruit pulp as much as the next guy but I don’t give a fucky-wuck how many