Like many people I have spent the past few years in a roaring, frothing rage at the incompetence and mendacity of the charmless, greasy-palmed hucksters who have somehow blagged their way into governing us. Occasionally, by which I mean most days, I have expressed this rage via a scalpel-sharp, profound and witty political tweet. Weirdly, not everybody is as impressed by these contributions as I am. Indeed, at least one person usually replies: “Stick to tweeting about food, Rayner.”
If I’m feeling magnanimous, I reply with just two letters: “No.” Sometimes, if I’m feeling less sanguine, I point out that I’ve been covering politics in one form or another for more than three decades, and that I have an extremely important degree in political studies. I am literally qualified to tweet about it. Often, I delete these replies because they make me look like a sad, chippy apologist for myself which is unnecessary when so many others are happy to do that job for me.
It struck me that instead, it would be more constructive if I were to list the ways in which food affects politics and decision-making. This would enable me to compile a list of subjects that it would be OK for me to tweet about. So here goes. The production and selling of food are obviously a massive part of the economy in general and retailing in particular. Many of our foods are now, for good or ill, commodities, traded on global financial markets both influenced by and impactful upon inflation and interest rates. So anything about economics or financial matters is completely fair game.
What we eat and how we eat has a direct effect on both our physical and mental health. Whether we have a healthy or poor diet generally depends upon income, and access to the kind of jobs paying the kind of wages which will either support the right diet or fail to do so. It’s therefore fair for me to have an opinion on the NHS, our benefits system, our deformed taxation system – there I go, editorialising again – and anything to do with access to careers and opportunities.
Likewise, we know that kids do less well at school if they have a poor diet, that schools which intervene in the care of their pupils produce better outcomes, and that information about food and diet during school years can be transformative. That’s the whole of the education system covered. Anyone with a passing interest in overseas aid will know that the vast majority of famines are caused by governmental incompetence, generally involving military action. Indeed, there’s a compelling argument that all foreign relations are essentially arguments over resources, prime among them food. I could mention Brexit here but that would be provocative, which is not my style. Still, that clears me to have an opinion on anything to do with defence spending, foreign affairs and military aid.
Food is what keeps us alive, which enables us to wonder about the meaning of existence, while engaging in the practice of art, perhaps through literature, music, theatre or dance. Hurrah! I’m good to go on all culture and philosophy. And of course, the clincher: food specifically keeps me alive. It nourishes me. That enables me to go to the ballot box and cast my vote. In turn that entitles me to have an opinion on literally anything I bloody well please. I trust my critics can now see that everything I say is, in one way or another, about food. In a deliciously meta move I shall now post this column to Twitter. I’m certain no one will argue with me. But just in case I’ll get a cup of coffee and a biscuit to keep me going.
