"Upcycled food" is now officially defined, and we need to ask some questions
Issue 156: It's a fascinating development in food waste reduction. But, we should think critically about it — and we should do it now.
Good afternoon! Today is Friday, if days of the week still mean anything anymore. And this is Nosh Box, a lunchtime-ish food newsletter.
And right now it’s 4:13 in my neck of the woods, which is maybe a little late to be eating lunch, even lunch-ish. Sorry about that! Let’s get started.
Read yesterday’s dispatch: Did World Central Kitchen work with ICE in Puerto Rico?
Upcycling food — taking ingredients that would’ve been wasted and turning them into edible products — is now officially defined.
Now, per the Upcycled Food Association, upcycled foods “use ingredients that otherwise would not have gone to human consumption, are procured and produced using verifiable supply chains, and have a positive impact on the environment." This definition was the result of a 6-month effort from a working group that consisted of reps from NRDC, World Wildlife Fund, ReFED, the Harvard Food Law and Policy Clinic, the Drexel Food Lab, and more.
Here’s part of the infographic they created:
(photo courtesy Upcycled Food Association)
SO much food is wasted in our food system, and upcycling presents a very workable way to turn trash into treasure. I wrote more about this at Food Tank today.
But, there are a lot more questions we need to ask.
As is frequently talked about in food policy circles, the U.S. government doesn’t officially define “natural” in the same way they do “organic” (not yet, anyway — the FDA has asked for public comment several times over the last few years, so a definition may be coming). Similarly, words like “neutraceutical,” “functional food,” “adaptogenic,” “probiotic,” and more can mean everything and nothing. The FDA (and USDA) regulates the foods in question, of course, but don’t have official definitions for the terms.
Definitions identify what something is not just as much as they bound what something is. By drawing up these categories, as sociologist Pierre Bourdieu teaches us, what we exclude is just as important — if not more important — than what we include. Anecdotally, if we look at why people buy organic, this becomes salient: you know it doesn’t contain certain chemicals or pesticides. You know they won’t be in your body. It allows you to think your food wasn’t produced under inhumane conditions for animals and workers (though this is certainly not always the case!). But as we also learn with organic, this comes with a cost, both economic and social.
With organics in mind, let’s turn to upcycling. No, the new “upcycled” definition is not legally or regulatorily binding. (Is “regulatorily” a word?) But as upcycling becomes more commonplace in the industry, what’s being left behind? Who’s being left behind?
This new definition raises a lot of questions in my mind, which I don’t have answers to — and perhaps nobody will have answers to them, for many years. And this is not, obviously (!), an exhaustive list of all the things food folks should be thinking critically about. But here’s what’s on my mind:
The Upcycled Food Association says it plans to create a certification label for foods that meet the standards. Would the existence of a label allow producers to charge more for upcycled products, in the way organic products are often pricier? (Jonathan Deutsch’s research at Drexel suggests this may be the case.) So, what if a higher price point puts upcycled foods out of reach for lower-income folks? Would supporting food waste reduction become something only wealthy consumers can access? (Is that problematic?)
Would we ever see a scenario in which raw ingredients go to upcycling companies instead of being recovered by food rescue and donated to pantries or shelters? How do we make sure that greater acceptance of upcycled foods doesn’t accidentally mean that those ingredients now go to middle-class consumers instead of food-insecure communities? (Maybe the definition would preclude that from happening. I’m not sure!)
If less food is going to waste and more money is being generated — from food that had previously been valueless, capitalistically — who will that money go to? Will this help boost farm revenues, especially at a really sticky time for small farmers because of Covid-19?
But on that note, can upcycled food companies even buy inputs directly from farms and still be within the “would not have gone to human consumption” provision of the definition?
How can we make sure upcycled food producers aren’t creating more waste with packaging? How can we make upcycled more than a “feel-good” label?
Related — and vital — is the risk for “upcycled” to create the assumption that buying more = the key to reducing food waste. By selling upcycled food on the shelf right next to conventional products, do we dull the urgency of reducing food waste? Does reducing food waste simply become another consumer choice within the bounds of capitalism, rather than a true moral imperative?
How can we encourage customers to take meaningful action to reduce food waste in all parts of their lives, instead of advertising that they can solve food waste through buying a product?
If you have answers to any of these questions, I’d love to hear them! And if you have more questions, I’d love to hear those too! Feel free to shoot me an email or discuss on social media — I think it’s exciting that we’re seeing a new food category take shape in front of us, especially one that’s aimed at reducing food waste. And by the same token, I think it’s our responsibility to continue to ask these kinds of questions as upcycling unfolds.