
Any person who has stayed a few days in the hospital understands the overwhelming negativity around institutional food. The tepid chicken patty, the mystery sauce, the jello. No one walks into an institutional setting expecting a great meal. But for significant parts of our population, institutional meals are the most consistent and abundant form of fuel. Children in schools, patients in residential care centers, seniors in assisted living, and, in many ways most uniquely, people in carceral facilities, are reliant on state institutions to meet their dietary and nutritional needs in a way that supports human thriving. This fact represents an incredible opportunity for food to act as a lever of positive change. And yet, many institutional meals are underwhelming at best. Why is that and what can we do about it?
The provision of good food – that is local, sustainable, humane, culturally relevant, and healthy – in institutional settings is both a moral imperative and a pragmatic approach to addressing systemic social problems. Although the US stands isolated as just one of two UN member nations to vote against the Right to Food resolution, at Chicago Food Policy Action Council (CFPAC) we believe that good food is a fundamental human right. Our purpose is to advance policy solutions that reflect belief. That is why we worked to pass and implement the Good Food Purchasing Program, which, according to The Center for Good Food Purchasing, “provides a metric-based, flexible framework that encourages large institutions to commit to equity, accountability, and transparency in their food purchasing” and align their purchasing with good food values. While Chicago and Cook County passed Good Food Purchasing resolutions in 2017 and 2018 respectively, the Illinois state legislature has yet to adopt Good Food Purchasing statewide. To ensure the right to food is upheld all across Illinois, we need that to change.
For decades, food access in the US has been shaped by a policy paradigm known as neoliberalism, which suggests that the government is incapable of efficiently using taxpayer dollars to improve our collective conditions and that many public assets should be privatized. (Chicagoans will recognize this by just looking at our parking meters or the skyway.) The theory is that the best way to ensure social thriving is to deregulate corporations and trust that private enterprises will, in turn, sell what we need at prices we can afford while spurring economic growth. In practice, it means that rather than passing policies that resource the government to support its population, we starve it to enrich corporations. School meal programs are slashed while corporate profits are protected; prison meal frequency is reduced while commissary prices soar. Commodity growers enjoy abundant subsidies while community growers are left to fend for themselves.
As a result, control of our food system is highly concentrated, and rather than being regulated to require supply chain transparency, corporations are allowed to shroud their sourcing practices behind a veil of “trade secrets.” The corporate imperative to maximize shareholder value leads to extraction of resources; exploitation of workers, animals, and the land we all share; and the degradation of local supply chains and economies. It’s trickle-down economics colliding with basic human survival needs, and as is so often the case in our economic system, the US population is expected to socialize the losses and privatize the gains.
The detrimental impacts are felt most intensely by communities already marginalized by systemic racism and disinvestment. Here in Chicago, there is a 20-year life expectancy gap between residents in West Garfield Park and those living in the Loop. Lack of access to fresh, healthy food is part of a complex root system that results in these disparities.
The perverse incentives in our food system are particularly evident in carceral institutions. According to Investigate Midwest, in Illinois just two corporations are responsible for more than 70% of the more than $156 million in carceral facility food spending. Illinois Impact Justice (IJ), in its powerful 2020 report “Eating Behind Bars: Ending the Hidden Punishment of Food in Prisons” illuminates the ways food in jails, prisons, and detention centers both reinforce the dehumanization of incarcerated people and erect even higher barriers to thriving after incarceration. Lack of nutritional density, low quality, poor flavor, and in some cases actual food spoilage are hallmark descriptions from the interviews with incarcerated people. IJ’s data shows significant disparities in both infectious and chronic diseases between incarcerated people and the general population. The report draws connection between prison food and ailments like brain fog, fragile teeth, food poisoning, thyroid issues, bone loss, and anemia to name a few.
Over decades, the systematic dehumanization of people in carceral institutions has spurred calls for change. Advocates have demanded reforms to improve living conditions, sentencing guideline changes to reduce incarceration rates, and even the abolition of prisons altogether. The question of abolition versus reform is complex, but no matter where one falls on that spectrum there is good reason to ensure every incarcerated person has access to good food. Good food is fuel for those on the inside, whose advocacy and self-determination is central to spurring structural change. Better nutrition is tied to improved health outcomes and fewer incidents of violence while inside. Food insecurity is one of the social determinants of health and addressing it can create the early conditions that keep people free in the first place. Advocating for good food access in institutions is common ground for every person who cares about our carceral crisis.
Consider the difference between the food described in Impact Justice’s report and a meal made in alignment with Good Food values. Instead of spoiled meats, insufficient calories, and highly processed, prohibitively-priced commissary products, imagine a meal using ingredients produced with sustainable and humane practices, from companies fueling local economies while providing adequate nutrition, great flavor, and cultural relevance. Imagine the change in sense of value and dignity that would bring to residents. Expand that notion to every school, every senior housing complex, every hospital system, and you start to understand the scale of impact that is possible.
All of this represents a unique opportunity to forge partnerships to transform institutional food procurement. Organizations like the Center for Good Food Purchasing and Impact Justice show what is possible when advocates and governments work together to identify, address, and transform harm in our institutional food systems. And while the work those organizations and many others are doing is positive and powerful, we need even more of it to meet the scale of our crisis.
Representatives in districts across Illinois need to hear from their constituents about why good food matters, so call your state legislators to share why good food in carceral settings matters to you! And take it a step further by making sure your representatives at the state and local level are supporting local farmers, growers, and food businesses to be able to sell to our state institutions. Equitable supply chain development – the kind that reckons with the history and modern maintenance of structural racism and disenfranchisement – requires constant support from every level of government. With collective advocacy, shared purpose, and a commitment to centering the inherent dignity of every human being, we can shape a food system that truly works for everyone.