I often wonder why, in most transition spaces—where there is typically a strong philosophy of commitment and care for food—the subject remains limited to managing food in the context of abundance, without addressing the need to prepare for future food shortages.
At the Praxis hub, during our residencies, we recognize the necessity to feel the suffering of the earth (ecospirituality) , we know the importance of thinking about the world through metamodernism. However, how to be with food scarcity has not yet been integrated fully into our social technology discussions.
I ask myself why it seems difficult to have a collective conversation about food when climate change is frequently discussed including adaptation. It's as though we are not equipped yet to talk collectively about something that may be one of the first consequences of climate change.
The reality is that the food crisis is no longer just a threat; it’s already happening.
The globalization of our food production system no longer allows territories to ensure food sovereignty. The war in Ukraine has revealed the system’s fragility.
Monocropping poses a constant risk of crop-destroying diseases, and its widespread adoption has contributed to the depletion of fossil fuel reserves, soil health, and water supplies.
We find ourselves in a continuous state of crisis management—between wars, diseases, and water shortages—and this is only accelerating. According to David Bailey, Director of the World Food Programme: "After Yemen, Afghanistan, Ethiopia, and southern Sudan, Somalia is now facing famine in 2023." Food insecurity is also on the rise within Europe. In France , for example, 30% of the population now struggles to access healthy food and eat three meals a day. (1)
We know the solution to this crisis. It is primarily structural: regaining our food sovereignty by producing locally autonomous agriculture, mainly focused on plant production for humans (currently, ⅔ of agricultural land in France is used for industrial animal feed). This shift is underway, aided by public authorities and the Territorial Management Plan (PAT) in France, among other initiatives.
However, given the time required to transform a globalized agricultural system, we may not have enough time.
Moreover, our relationship with food must evolve if we aim to be realistic, as well as the amount of time we dedicate to it. Over the past 80 years in France, the time spent on food-related activities has decreased from 4 hours to 1 hour.
While changing agriculture may take decades, we can change our relationship with food at home and in our communities much sooner, helping us build emotional resilience to potential food shortages.
It is here that cooks and conscious community builders have a crucial role to play.
They still have time to develop food practices that deeply nourish both the body and the heart. There is still time to learn how to cultivate peace amid fear and reduce anxiety about scarcity.
We have enough time to develop social technologies that can withstand the panic of food insecurity, creating a space of emotional security in the face of food anxiety. In doing so, we can prototype a new food culture based on "just enough."
Additionally, we can shift the narrative and propose methodologies that not only help regulate our emotions but also rediscover the joy of living and creativity through the collective management of food.
These models cannot emerge from a single approach, such as mindfulness, anti-waste policies, fermentation techniques, or permaculture. Instead, they must arise from a holistic food praxis that cultivates responsiveness through peace. Peace, in this context, does not mean an ideal world without conflict but the ability to address chaos with emotional balance and act accordingly.
This represents a change in perspective—one that embraces food as an opportunity to reconnect with our humanity, to experience the nourishment of community (sangha), and to see new ways of thinking emerge from the peace of being together.
It also taps into our natural capacity to adapt to situations and respond appropriately.
There is a life force and wisdom coming from appropriate food system in community .
Engaging with food collectively is, first and foremost, about organizing, celebrating, and sharing. It is a way to reclaim our sense of belonging to the land, to our ancestors, future generations, fellow humans, non-human beings, and the earth itself. Reconnecting with this reality is essential for our emotional and mental well-being.
In the context of deteriorating mental health, particularly among young people, simple practices that foster connection—such as cooking and eating together—can transform fear of the future into something more joyful.
Awami Praxis food design, that valerie Duvauchelle has developped around 5 branches is dedicated to conscious community building to respond to the food crisis while reconnecting with joy of living together.
Receiving our food (mindful purchasing that considers the entire supply chain)
Transforming food (cooking in ways that help people feel satisfied with less)
Moving (creating dynamic spaces for people to engage with food)
Celebrating (reconnecting with deep time and our cosmic reality)
Thinking (exploring the complexity of our food system beyond polarization)
Through this Praxis, we can bring a new food narrative that empowers people, even amidst collapse. We can prevent the disease of fear, which could be more terrifying than food scarcity itself, and offer an alternative way to cope with food restrictions—one that avoids aggression, theft, or war.
Implementing Awami Food Praxis in conscious communities—one that nourishes us more with less—is a peace-building effort that cooks and community builders can contribute to for the benefit of humanity and all living beings.
Sources
1. CNA : Conseil national de l’alimentation. 2022 report (France)
This post is a revised version of something written in 2023, one year ago.