Food: A Future Frontier

Decades from now, what will our diet look like and how will climate change impact our access to food? Impact’s Head of Lifestyle, Alice Nott, writes a dystopian creative piece, her predictions for what the future holds very bleak indeed.

You drive down the M42 after finally dropping your sister home. She’s been living with you since the floods in March. You didn’t really want her to go back, you’re sure she’ll be flooded again, and you’re not sure how much warning you’ll have next time. But her heart was set. Still, you plan on building an extension just in case; her house won’t be worth anything and she’ll need somewhere to live.

You don’t make a habit of driving - the price of fuel means it’s reserved for special occasions - but you needed space to think, and the peace of the motorway offered a change from the overcrowded city.

As you pass by a big house, you see a cow, grazing in the field. This is a rare sighting. You haven’t seen a cow in years, the herding flu had led to nearly all farm animals dying from natural and unnatural causes. After coronavirus, no one wanted to risk another pandemic. The only cows to survive were isolated in the Shetland Islands, the sea acting as a barrier between humans and any diseases the livestock might be carrying.

You think back to all the times you had longed to see a highland cow up close. Now, you had one right in front of your very eyes, nestled against the scenic hillside of The Wrekin. And yet, you feel oddly underwhelmed, a little unnerved even. Watching the beast chew on the cud felt dystopian, like a scene from a previous lifetime. Where was the familiar rumble of the industrial lawn mowers?

You know you don’t suffer like those in the South of Europe, America, Africa and Asia, though. Climate famines haven’t touched Britain yet, but still, you can’t help but despair. Everything feels like a ticking time bomb; the Government putting out one fire, only to be immediately engulfed in another.

The National Food Service has been keeping the country fed since 2028. The rations are enough to get by, but late winter and spring always bring a few too many helpings of lentils and buckwheat. You’re thankful that the British climate allows both to be grown here at least. Genetically modified crops have become a dietary staple.

You miss your old favourites, though. You try to maintain some normality by stocking up the cupboards with reserves for special occasions. Tomato pasta sauce, once a budget must, is now almost impossible to find in the shops, unless you’re lucky enough to have a really good harvest. You were never green fingered, but everyone is a gardener nowadays.

The garden patio at home became pointless. The intensity of the heatwaves prevented you from enjoying the summer weather, and the UV rays became far too dangerous for sunbathing or outdoor games. So, you reluctantly dug it up one day, your mind wandering nostalgically to the old green lawn where your dog used to play. Tragically, herding fever didn’t even spare man’s best friend.

Tending to the crops gives you something to focus on, aside from the constant news reports of water wars and daily atrocities. That reminds you, you need to check on the water levels in the basement. Without at least twenty full canisters, you won’t make it through to the end of the month.

It’s not all bad though: communal meals are put on by the Ministry for Quality of Life twice a week. At first, you went to save on your tokens, but as time went on, you genuinely started to enjoy it. Even the most nauseating of conversations bring a welcome break to the futility of day-to-day life.

You start to grow tired. Like a reflex, you think of stopping at the next service station to grab a coffee. Old habits really do die hard. Coffee is now as precious as caviar, reserved only for occasions when it’s imperative to impress. Climate change left the coffee plant hills drier than a bone.

It’s okay though, you still have the dried rose hips you and your sister picked. You can have them with the carrot soup you made a few nights ago when you get home.

You dream that night. Your dreams are filled with lavish dinners and delicious banquets, so vivid, you can almost taste them. Gripping the duvet tightly, your subconscious wills you not to wake up yet. Begging you to evade the realities of daily life, just a little longer...

By Alice Nott

Illustration by Christina Giallombardo Page Design by Chiara Crompton