The Great American Food System (GAFS) has been a recurring theme in this series, particularly in our recent discussion of What to Eat Now (2025) by Marion Nestle. While it’s clear that the GAFS generates substantial tonnage and profit for some, many critics argue that this production often strays from the central objective of providing accessible, nutritious food sustainably for everyone. In their new book, Feed the People: Why Industrial Food is Good and How to Make It Even Better, Jan Dutkiewicz and Gabriel N. Rosenberg embark on a comprehensive exploration of the GAFS, positing an intriguing premise: that industrial food, far from being the enemy, can be improved.
The analytical approach of Feed the People provides a well-rounded perspective, emphasizing that the food system should be examined in its entirety—taking into account biological, economic, political, and social factors. The authors critique notable food advocates like Alice Waters and Michael Pollan, suggesting they overlook the complexities of the food system, despite their genuine intentions. Yet, the strength of Feed the People lies in its unvarnished depiction of the existing realities of the food system.
One of the foundational concepts introduced by Jan and Gabriel is “democratic hedonism,” articulated as follows:
(A)n approach to politics that sees moral value in the simple pleasures that people experience in their daily lives. It favors political, collective, and institutional actions to expand access to those pleasures. This approach aims to minimize harm and maximize enjoyment for the greatest number of people. Pleasure, and its promise, define a good life and can drive political action… In terms of food, these pleasures are personal and sensual, but they are also frequently social and communal, often reliant on others (as well as plants and animals).
In contrast, they illustrate “solitary and selfish hedonism” through the archetype of a wealthy wine enthusiast fixated on rare vintages, ignoring the communal aspect of enjoyment. They instead advocate for the accessible pleasures found at the Waffle House, where camaraderie over a hearty meal can inspire laughter, storytelling, or even plans for social change. Democratic hedonism, as they suggest, prioritizes equity and accessibility in pleasure, making it a collective endeavor.
Indeed, while this philosophy is commendable, it’s worth noting that even the syrup at Waffle House lacks the artisanal charm of traditional sources, being made primarily from high-fructose corn syrup and artificial flavors. This detail subtly underscores the challenges of achieving true sustainability. Jan and Gabriel tie this back to a fundamental concept in food system studies: food security, which encompasses five critical dimensions: (1) availability, (2) sustainability, (3) access, (4) labor, and (5) utilization. In a robust democracy, these dimensions ought to be widely fulfilled, yet their absence in the U.S. reflects deep-seated political issues, which the authors effectively highlight.
Chapter 2, titled “Farming Without Sentimentality,” offers a critical analysis of the GAFS. Jan and Gabriel shine here, establishing a crucial distinction between technical and cultural understandings of farming. They describe the technical farmer—a conventional, large-scale operator typical of industrial agriculture—as one who generates significant food volume but also exacerbates various social, environmental, and political issues. Their candid examination of the industry’s flaws offers a meaningful critique of contemporary American society.
In Iowa, for instance, 85% of farmland is categorized as “cropland,” with corn and soybeans occupying 60% of this area. However, these crops primarily serve as industrial feed inputs rather than direct human food. Furthermore, the environmental ramifications are dire—over half of Iowa’s waterways are now too polluted for activities like swimming or fishing. Such unsustainable practices contribute to broader ecological crises, including a substantial hypoxic dead zone in the Gulf of Mexico.
Jan and Gabriel identify three archetypes representing American industrial agriculture:
- Ron the Earner: A generational farmer who grows industrial commodity crops and, though wealthy, is entangled in the exploitative practices of major agricultural corporations.
- David the Gentry: A landowner who profits from renting out land for industrial farming without engaging in agriculture himself.
- Tom the Noble Loser: A small-scale farmer cultivating free-range animals and specialty products adored by food enthusiasts, a rarity in today’s landscape.
Chapter 3, “It’s the Cow, Not the How,” brings attention to the environmental consequences of raising livestock through modern industrial methods, which significantly contribute to greenhouse gas emissions and animal welfare issues. The authors argue for a paradigm shift toward sustainable practices, such as grass-fed cattle, to reduce the overall ecological footprint of the livestock sector. They communicate that fostering a demand for nutritious, sustainably produced food could empower farmers across the board.
While the authors mention the importance of the Farm Bill in shaping agricultural policies, they fall short of a thorough exploration of this crucial legislation. This bill currently sustains commodity crop production at the expense of human food, presenting a major barrier to achieving a healthier food system. Structural redesign of subsidies to support local, nutritious food production could significantly uplift the quality and quantity of available food.
Jan and Gabriel engage meaningfully with the concept of techno-foods, expressing both enthusiasm and caution. Innovations like lab-grown meat may not yet represent a viable solution to our nutritional needs, as they come with significant energy demands. Furthermore, the authors assert that genetically modified organisms (GMO) crops are often ineffective compared to traditional breeds in actual productivity, primarily designed to withstand herbicides rather than enhance food quality.
In Chapter 9, “In Praise of Processed Food,” the authors tackle the stigma surrounding processed items. While they note that the narratives surrounding industrial and ultra-processed foods often demonize them, it is essential to distinguish between different categories of food processing. Ultra-processed foods, rich in unhealthy ingredients, contribute to the obesity crisis, a point they analyze with the help of Kevin Hall’s research. Yet, they seem to conflate general food processing with the more hazardous practices adopted by Big Food companies.
The central argument of Feed the People is that industrial foods can support a version of culinary democratic hedonism, and eliminating them is unrealistic. However, a pressing concern remains: the reduced nutritional value of food since the rise of industrial agriculture—a phenomenon observed through numerous studies documenting declines in essential nutrients in garden crops over the decades.
Addressing the underlying issues of industrial agriculture will require systemic reform. As Wendell Berry has noted, “Eating is an agricultural act,” emphasizing that truly nourishing food cannot be produced within the framework of industrial practices. Improving the current state of our food system is achievable, and Feed the People advocates for starting this journey today.
Nevertheless, meaningful change hinges on revising how agricultural policies, particularly the Farm Bill, are structured. Supporting local agricultural operations could facilitate a transition to regenerative farming that fosters both human and environmental health. Just as we envision a world beyond the confines of industrial food production, there is potential for a vibrant local economy focused on sustainable practices that could thrive alongside technological advancements.
Ultimately, Feed the People serves as a vital exploration of our relationship to food, illuminating both the flaws and the potential pathways for revitalizing the Great American Food System. Jan and Gabriel provide compelling insights into the inconsistencies within our agricultural landscape and the necessity for leveraging social change to create a more equitable and sustainable food environment.
Notes
[1] Waffle House appears frequently in Feed the People to illustrate both the triumphs and failures of the system, particularly regarding employee treatment across the GAFS, exemplified by workers facing health risks during the COVID-19 pandemic.
[2] Marion Nestle (pronounced “ness-ul”) offers an excellent analysis in her Food Politics. Her latest work, What to Eat Now, is a great starting point for understanding modern food politics.
[3] Kevin Hall’s research at NIH has faced challenges that hindered its impact, raising questions about the political context of scientific research in nutrition.
[4] Jan and Gabriel highlight a medical solution to the obesity epidemic, but the actual paradigm should be focused on promoting the consumption of less ultra-processed foods and more whole foods within our diets.
[5] Alar remains a controversial example of agricultural practices that highlight the complexities behind food production and consumer perceptions.
[6] Sombart‘s insights into American culture and economy provide a historical perspective that resonates today.
