Book Review. Eat The Planet Well

Eat The Planet Well

by Dave Goulson

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James Joughin

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We had a great event for London Climate Action Week where, judging by the intensity of the discussions, you might have thought we were fixated on data: ‘experts’ yakking about graphs, spreadsheets and emissions accounting. ‍

But the point of data, of course, is not the numbers themselves. It is what they allow us to understand and, more importantly, what they enable us to do. Dave Goulson's new book, Eat the Planet Well, is an excellent illustration of that principle. It is a book for the general reader, that wears its scientific rigour lightly, translating a considerable body of evidence into clear, practical advice about how we might reform both our food system and our own behaviour. It is accessible without being simplistic, evidence-based without becoming preachy, and a genuine pleasure to read.

There is of course a substantial literature for readers trying to make sense of the modern food system. Joanna Blythman's Swallow Thisremains one of the best investigations into what the food industry does behind the scenes, exposing the chemistry, processing and commercial pressures that shape what ends up on our plates. Mike Berners-Lee's How Bad Are Bananas? approached the problem from another direction, pioneering the popular use of carbon footprints to compare the environmental consequences of everyday decisions.

We’ve also seen, this year, Stuart Gillespie’s Food Fight (reviewed in February) with his thesis of how ‘Food is life but our food system is killing us’. The chapters I liked were on how the big corporate players dominate our markets, and how the more power is concentrated in ‘Big Food’ the less likely we are to have a diverse supply of affordable, accessible, healthy foods.

Goulson builds on all three of these traditions while widening the frame still further. Readers in Sussex will already know him from his long campaign on behalf of bees and pollinators and from his time at the University of Sussex. His earlier books persuaded thousands of people to think differently about insects, gardens and pesticides: Eat the Planet Well broadens that perspective to encompass the whole food system.

Everything you wanted to know about food but were afraid to ask

One of the great strengths of this new book is that it addresses almost every question likely to occur to the environmentally conscious consumer. Are dairy products really as bad as people claim? Does buying local food always help? Is organic food healthier? Should we avoid genetically modified crops? What about palm oil, pesticides, ultra-processed foods, sustainable fish or meat substitutes? These are precisely the questions that animate our shopping dilemmas and Goulson tackles each in short, self-contained chapters, never pretending that complicated issues have simple answers but refusing to disappear into false complexity either.

He has an admirable gift for explaining trade-offs, recognising uncertainty where it exists, and challenging fashionable assumptions when the evidence points elsewhere. There is something rather fitting about these arguments emerging from Sussex. Ours is a county where productive farmland sits alongside internationally important chalk downland, ancient woodland and one of Britain's finest coastlines. The tensions between food production, wildlife recovery and climate action are not abstract policy questions here: they are written across the landscape.

It would be easy to caricature this as another handbook for affluent consumers worrying about the provenance of their sourdough or the ethics of their almond milk. Goulson himself is too sensible for that. The reality is that our food choices matter because the food system matters. Roughly a third of global greenhouse gas emissions arise somewhere along the food chain - from farming itself through fertiliser manufacture, livestock production, transport, refrigeration, processing and the extraordinary amount of food we simply throw away. We have become accustomed to thinking about climate change in terms of power stations, aircraft and electric vehicles, but this is far from the case.

The modern food system embodies almost every environmental challenge simultaneously

After another sweltering summer (last week’s heat wave being so severe Southern Rail judged it was unsafe for us to travel to our own climate change event), and repeated reminders that climate change is no longer something happening elsewhere, Goulson's insistence that our food system deserves equal attention feels particularly timely. Indeed, if there is a central contribution this book makes, it is to relocate food from the margins to the heart of climate policy.

Goulson’s argument is not simply that agriculture emits greenhouse gases, although it is clearly a major source. Rather, the modern food system embodies almost every environmental challenge simultaneously. Livestock generate methane. Nitrogen fertilisers require huge amounts of energy to produce, and release nitrous oxide, an exceptionally potent greenhouse gas. Vast areas of land are devoted to grazing animals or producing animal feed, instead of storing carbon in forests or supporting wildlife. Food waste magnifies every one of these problems, because every discarded meal has already consumed land, water, fertiliser and energy. Thinking about food, therefore, means thinking about climate in a much richer and more systemic way than simply adding up carbon footprints.

Goulson's discussion of livestock is particularly persuasive. He avoids the harsh moralism that sometimes accompanies debates about meat consumption. He is not demanding universal veganism, or insisting that every form of livestock farming is environmentally disastrous. Instead, he carefully marshals the evidence showing that beef and lamb, because of methane emissions and land requirements, have disproportionately large climate impacts compared with most plant-based foods. That conclusion is difficult to escape. Reducing consumption of ruminant meat emerges as one of the single most effective actions individuals can take to reduce their own greenhouse gas emissions, while simultaneously releasing land that could support biodiversity and store carbon naturally.

Challenging prevailing orthodoxy

‍Equally refreshing is Goulson's willingness to puncture popular myths. Local food, for example, is not automatically low-carbon. Production methods usually matter more than transport distances, and an imported vegetable may easily generate fewer emissions than locally produced beef. Organic farming offers important biodiversity and pesticide benefits, but does not necessarily produce nutritionally superior food. Palm oil is not inherently evil: the problem lies in where and how it is grown. Genetic modification should be judged by evidence rather than ideology. These are not fashionable positions, but they are thoughtful ones, and they demonstrate Goulson's commitment to following the science rather than the prevailing orthodoxy.

Throughout the book there is a welcome emphasis on nuance. Environmental debates often descend into tribalism, with many issues being reduced to slogans and identities. Goulson consistently resists that temptation. He acknowledges that sustainable diets involve compromises between health, affordability, environmental impact and practicality.

Some technologies may genuinely help. Precision farming, alternative proteins and genetic innovation all deserve consideration, even if none represents a silver bullet. Equally, Goulson insists that technological optimism cannot become an excuse for avoiding more fundamental changes in the way we produce and consume food.

The major reservation is obviously the audience. The people most likely to buy Eat the Planet Well are probably those already disposed to agree with much of its argument. They are readers who recycle carefully, worry about biodiversity, and have at least some discretion over what they buy. Those facing acute financial pressures or those actively hostile to environmental concerns may never pick it up. That is hardly Goulson's fault, but it does raise the familiar question of how far consumer choice alone can transform a food system largely shaped by governments, supermarkets and multinational food companies. Goulson recognises those wider structural issues, yet his optimism rests substantially on the idea that millions of individual purchasing decisions can collectively reshape markets. Whether that proves sufficient remains to be seen.

Optimism is one of the book's greatest virtues. At a time when environmental writing can feel depressing, nigh on  apocalyptic, Goulson offers something more constructive. He demonstrates that there are practical steps available to all of us: wasting less food, eating less beef and lamb, supporting farming that works with rather than against nature, growing some of our own produce where possible, and becoming more informed consumers. None of these measures is presented as an act of personal purity. Instead, they are incremental changes which, multiplied across millions of households, could make a substantial contribution to reducing greenhouse gas emissions while improving biodiversity and public health at the same time.

The road to a lower-carbon future runs through breakfast, lunch and dinner

That broader perspective is what makes Eat the Planet Well such a good book. Climate change dominates contemporary environmental debate, understandably so, but Goulson reminds us that greenhouse gases are only one symptom of a food system that is placing intolerable pressure on the natural world. His achievement is to show that solutions can address several problems simultaneously. A diet that reduces emissions can also restore wildlife, improve soils, reduce pollution and often improve our own health. Rather than setting climate against biodiversity, or personal wellbeing against environmental responsibility, Goulson demonstrates how closely these objectives can align.

Eat the Planet Well deserves to be read widely, because it manages something surprisingly rare: it is scientifically rigorous, refreshingly balanced and consistently practical. For those concerned with climate change, it is a timely reminder that the route to a lower-carbon future runs not only through energy policy and transport, but through breakfast, lunch and dinner as well. It is difficult to imagine many readers finishing it without looking rather differently at the next meal they prepare.

As a footnote, I should also add that Goulson has one fascinating chapter on foraging and another on associated recipes. I’ve already been out there collecting nettles and rustling up a tasty soup. I am still reflecting on his recommendations around roadkill, ‘by far the most environmentally friendly source of meat’. Never mind rabbits and pheasants: apparently, if you have a freezer, ‘a single fallow deer will keep your family in meat for months’. 

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James Joughin leads on food policy for Climate:Change

Perspective pieces are the responsibility of the authors, and do not commit Climate:Change in any way. Comments are welcome.

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London Climate Action Week Meeting Report. Food and Climate at Local level: From Mapping to Policy