I nearly choked on my cornflakes when I read that our food system is responsible for a third of global greenhouse gas emissions (I’m joking, I don’t eat cornflakes – I’m an egg man, myself, cue The Beatles – but I’m not joking about the climate impact). I’ve always seen food as nourishment, comfort, connection, culture and joy – not a planetary crisis disguised as a breakfast or a bun. But here we are: the way we grow, process and eat food is a leading cause of climate change and biodiversity loss, as well as poor metabolic health. The good news? That same plates of food could become our best tools for healing – both the planet and us.
I’ve spent years working in sustainability, with growers and processors, walking farms, working with brands, talking to the soil-obsessed, and reading everything from government strategies to food system manifestos. And I’ve come to believe this: if we fix food, we fix a lot of other things too.
What's gone wrong?
Let’s start with the soil beneath our feet. The UK loses an estimated 3million tonnes of topsoil every year. Then globally, we’re losing 75 billion tonnes of soil annually, which in turn causes financial losses of around $400 billion. This isn’t just dirt – it’s the foundation of our food system. Overworked, chemically-treated soil loses its ability to grow crops, hold water or absorb carbon. As actor Woody Harrelson puts it in the great documentary Kiss the Ground, “Save the soil, and the soil might just save us”.
Modern agriculture has become an extractive industry. Monocropping, heavy tillage, artificial fertilisers, herbicides and pesticides have pushed yields up but at the cost of long-term fertility. I always say that the best way to guarantee a bigger harvest next year is to throw more chemicals on the soil now – but the surest way to guarantee a collapsed harvest in 20 years is also to throw more chemicals on the soil now. We need to start rebuilding slowly and with patience, changing the way we farm to align with nature. Our rivers are polluted by run-off, our fields are barren between harvests, and even the nutritional value of our food is declining.
And while the land is hurting, so are we. According to the UK’s National Food Strategy, poor diet contributes to 64,000 deaths a year. Professor Tim Spector of King’s College London points out that 57 per cent of the average UK diet now comes from ultra-processed food. It’s calorie-rich, nutrient-poor and cheap; ideal fuel for a health crisis.
A better way to farm?
But change is happening. A new wave of growers is embracing regenerative agriculture – a method that builds soil health, locks carbon underground, reduces runoff and boosts biodiversity.
Take Wildfarmed, a UK-based collective led by Groove Armada musician turned-farmer Andy Cato and TV presenter George Lamb (also son of acting national treasure, Larry). They grow wheat among diverse pastures, using cover crops, no ploughing and minimal chemicals. “Food and farming are our greatest points of agency to deal with the multiple crises we face,” says Cato. Their flour is now stocked in supermarkets and used by artisan bakers – proof that better farming doesn’t have to mean niche markets.
Similarly, businesses like Natoora are rebuilding supply chains that prioritise seasonal, nutrient-dense produce from small-scale, soil-focused growers. They’re not just delivering groceries – they’re redesigning how food reaches our plates. Add to that the myriad of Incredible Edibles – a network of guerilla food growers in cities around the world – community growing projects, permaculture clubs and allotment associations and there is a movement taking root.