It is clear we need to heal both the planet and our society. My research addresses how these two tasks are connected in relation to food. Food chains can, at many points, leak waste or greenhouse gas, and embed exploitation, injustice and exclusion from the land.
The first place I look for answers to these issues is my allotment in Spa Hill, West Norwood. This is where I practise agroecology: both a farming technique, and social movement, emphasising agency and autonomy. Agroecology treats complexity as a resource, and encourages the cultivation of the maximum diversity, including self-seeding crops. The plot self-organises, develops its symbioses and always surprises you; picking crops is more like gathering than harvesting. On the Masters module that I teach, Food and the City, I ensure I take my students for a visit there, using it to explain how agroecology was derived from indigenous practices. Seemingly pristine landscapes – the Amazon, precolonial Australia – were actually ‘built’ environments, using principles so in tune with nature that they seem evolved.
I also bring my undergraduate students to Calthorpe Community Garden regularly to demonstrate and explain ideas around agroecology. It has been a revelation. From its origins in a campaign to defend space from predatory development, Calthorpe brings together a diverse and multi-cultural community, assembled through a series of migrations, sharing a strong attachment to this place just because it preserves the culture (through food) of their places of origin. This hints at a new cosmopolitanism, a common resistance against both narrow nationalism and exploitative globalisation.