Abstract
Julian Cribb is a prolific Australian science communicator whose recent books focus on the complex environmental challenges facing modern society, chiefly emphasizing agricultural concerns. Food or war continues Cribb’s thematic emphasis.
The central thesis of Food or war is that “food—or fear of its lack—plays a central role in the genesis of human conflict, and that the opposite is also true: that ensuring a reliable, sustainable and nutritious food supply is a sure way to lower the tensions that lead to conflict. Indeed, it argues that food is one of the greatest, least recognised and most affordable ‘weapons of peace’ available to humanity” (Cribb, 2019, p. xi).
To support his argument, Cribb first builds a background of the food system-conflict nexus by walking readers through historical and contemporary case studies across a variety of geographies. Cribb describes the essential role of agriculture in rise of Ancient Rome, Viking settlements, dynastic and modern-day China, and India. He then turns to the historical European and Russian wars and revolutions and the World Wars to illustrate that “[t]he food system is thus cause, instrument and victim of conflict” (2018, p. 26)—a nuanced departure from the initial argument which will be discussed below. This is followed by an in-depth discussion of the ways in which the primary modern food system is unsustainable, un-nutritious, and ecologically damaging—all of which will be exacerbated by climate change. In essence, the modern food system itself is in crisis. Against this backdrop, Cribb argues that the food crisis poises the global population on the edge of existential crisis and preventable war from which we can be saved only by developing a novel “sustainable, nourishing, and resilient global food system suited to conditions in the twentyfirst [sic] century […]” (Cribb, 2019, p. 279). The necessary components of and key players in the development and maintenance of this new food system are laid out in the final chapters but include ecological farming and an urban farming revolution.
Food or war has several elements which commend it. The simple and approachable writing, particularly for the non-expert, makes this complex topic easy to grasp, especially in his historical accounts. Second, the comparison of the original context in which our modern food system was developed and successful to the modern-day context in which we still use this model despite the ecological and climate damages it causes, which in turn threaten to destroy the model, is insightful and clearly presented. Cribb cleverly calls it “a mining industry, not a farming industry” (2019, p. 117). The related argument that this model is, therefore, inappropriate to use at scale in the more unpredictable and changing global context we now live in (i.e., changing climate and massive population growth) and needs replacing is hard to argue with. For a book written with the non-expert in mind, the dedication of a significant portion of the book to sustainable alternatives and key recommendations for avoiding food-based conflict in the modern era is a valuable inclusion after many pages of warning that the horsemen of the apocalypse (who are introduced early on) are coming for to end the world.
A criticism of Food or war is that the titular argument that food has a role in the genesis of conflict becomes muddled with the positive feedback loop argument couched within the food–war nexus Cribb describes. The former seems to neglect the role of conflict in causing food and hunger crises, emphasizing only a one-way relationship from food crisis to war. This is not to say that Cribb does not present both pathways of this nexus—he does and in compelling fashion—but rather that the evidence supports a slightly different and more cyclical hypothesis than the central thesis.
Similarly, in emphasizing the inarguably important role of food in relationship to conflict, other variables critical for understanding the conflict cycle are ignored. Full bellies do not premise utopia as Cribb seems to extrapolate from his material. A well-fed populace is not one without ideological, moral, or political differences—all of which have been implicated in the conflict cycle. At times Cribb likens food stress to “tinder” (e.g., pp. 140–141, 149), which would suggest, perhaps more appropriately, that the state of the food system is a necessary but not sufficient element of initiating conflict. While the argument posited is never that food is the only cause, the other contributors are rarely if at all mentioned, leaving the non-expert reader without a sense of what else contributes to this complex issue.
Finally, while the main argument is persuasive (if at times muddled) some statements would benefit from supporting evidence while others would specifically be better supported by scientific evidence rather than popular science journalism or news media. This is particularly true of each instance in which the female gender is ascribed particular personality traits in universal fashion in apparent disregard for feminist critiques of stereotyping. Trying to anticipate this very critique, Cribb states, “This isn’t gender stereotyping. It’s an observation about how different kinds of humans think” (2018, p. 201), which does not offer the credibility to his argument that he thinks it does. From a science communication perspective, the mixing of scientifically supported and unsupported claims at times makes it difficult to determine what is a tested and true understanding and what is Cribb’s personal perspective.
Overall, this book was readable and thoughtfully prepared. It would be suitable for undergraduate students of environmental studies, political science, or international relations, and more generally for non-experts, as a thorough introduction to the relationship between food and conflict. I would, however, recommend it be complemented with additional materials examining additional sociopolitical factors which are implicated in the broader environment-conflict cycle.
