|
The world's population keeps growing, and only recently have we hit the 7 billion mark. It doesn't take a genius to deduce that we need to squeeze ever more food from a finite pool of arable lands to feed greater and greater numbers of people. But can we do this? And how would the world be if we were to fail?
Matthew Amati's supershort story tells of a typical family in a post-abundance world, where food is so scarce and precious, they come with names... |
"Civilization depends on our expanding ability to produce food efficiently, which has markedly accelerated thanks to science and technology."
Nina V. Fedoroff, New York Times, 11 August 2011
Audrey Winters rummaged through the fridge. "Honey? We're out of lunchmeat! Can you go kill us a neighbor?"
Ron Winters set down his newspaper and groaned. "The rate we go through food around here!"
Audrey smiled. "Three growing boys!"
Ron chuckled. "Be right back!"
Ron donned his Kevlar cammies, pulled a pair of gas goggles across his face, and shouldered his massive assault rifle.
The thermometer on the porch read 72 degrees. The radar indicated that the driveway was free of hostiles. Can't be too careful, thought Ron. He'd heard the Jones were using stealth tech.
Outside, Ron encountered another camouflage-clad figure toting a weapon. "Morning Tom," Ron bellowed.
"Ron! Got a bone to pick with you, my friend!" Tom said.
"Yeah? What bone is that?"
Tom pointed at a jumble of bleached skeletons next to the mailbox. "Those bones. I had the wife's family up for the holidays. Now look at 'em!"
"You got a problem with a man feeding his family, Tom?"
Tom spluttered. "You ate all of them! Couldn't even leave me a sister-in-law?"
Ron replied evenly, "Let me remind you, neighbor, what you did to my wife's card club. They're down to three. Can't play Bridge, and it's a lopsided Whist table too."
While they were talking, neither neighbor noticed Mrs. Edith Smith creeping up behind them with a harpoon gun. There were two swishes and two thwacks. With a cackle of triumph, Edith stood over the carcasses. "Enough meat for six months!" she crowed. "I'll make my award-winning man-jerky!"
At the window of the Winters home, Audrey Winters lowered her binoculars in disgust. "Ask a man to do something and it goes wrong every time," she huffed.
"Mom, I'm hungry!" her son Kevin hollered from the game room.
"Hold your horses!" snapped Audrey. She thought for a moment, then picked up the telephone. She ran her finger down her phone list until she located June Robinson's number.
"Hello, June? Yes, Kevin was wondering if little Percy would like to come over for lunch? No of course we'll send him home safe and sound. No, we wouldn't dream of letting him come to harm." Audrey listened for a moment, then said, "Don't fret, June dear. Percy will return home to join his... eleven brothers and sisters, is that right? My my, it must be a lot of work to keep such a... large... family fed."
Audrey hung up the phone. Kevin came in the kitchen. Audrey said, "Your little friend Percy will be joining us for lunch."
"Aw Mom! I hate that kid. Super annoying."
Audrey smiled. "I never said you'd have to talk to him."
Over lunch, Kevin lifted the bread on his sandwich and regarded the pink discs inside it. "When's Percy going to get here? I don't really wanna hang out with him."
"Don't worry, dear. He'll be gone before you know it."
Audrey gazed sentimentally at her eldest son for a moment. She turned her attention to the calendar and wrote "Kevin--Dinner at the Robinsons," under the following Tuesday.
Ron Winters set down his newspaper and groaned. "The rate we go through food around here!"
Audrey smiled. "Three growing boys!"
Ron chuckled. "Be right back!"
Ron donned his Kevlar cammies, pulled a pair of gas goggles across his face, and shouldered his massive assault rifle.
The thermometer on the porch read 72 degrees. The radar indicated that the driveway was free of hostiles. Can't be too careful, thought Ron. He'd heard the Jones were using stealth tech.
Outside, Ron encountered another camouflage-clad figure toting a weapon. "Morning Tom," Ron bellowed.
"Ron! Got a bone to pick with you, my friend!" Tom said.
"Yeah? What bone is that?"
Tom pointed at a jumble of bleached skeletons next to the mailbox. "Those bones. I had the wife's family up for the holidays. Now look at 'em!"
"You got a problem with a man feeding his family, Tom?"
Tom spluttered. "You ate all of them! Couldn't even leave me a sister-in-law?"
Ron replied evenly, "Let me remind you, neighbor, what you did to my wife's card club. They're down to three. Can't play Bridge, and it's a lopsided Whist table too."
While they were talking, neither neighbor noticed Mrs. Edith Smith creeping up behind them with a harpoon gun. There were two swishes and two thwacks. With a cackle of triumph, Edith stood over the carcasses. "Enough meat for six months!" she crowed. "I'll make my award-winning man-jerky!"
At the window of the Winters home, Audrey Winters lowered her binoculars in disgust. "Ask a man to do something and it goes wrong every time," she huffed.
"Mom, I'm hungry!" her son Kevin hollered from the game room.
"Hold your horses!" snapped Audrey. She thought for a moment, then picked up the telephone. She ran her finger down her phone list until she located June Robinson's number.
"Hello, June? Yes, Kevin was wondering if little Percy would like to come over for lunch? No of course we'll send him home safe and sound. No, we wouldn't dream of letting him come to harm." Audrey listened for a moment, then said, "Don't fret, June dear. Percy will return home to join his... eleven brothers and sisters, is that right? My my, it must be a lot of work to keep such a... large... family fed."
Audrey hung up the phone. Kevin came in the kitchen. Audrey said, "Your little friend Percy will be joining us for lunch."
"Aw Mom! I hate that kid. Super annoying."
Audrey smiled. "I never said you'd have to talk to him."
Over lunch, Kevin lifted the bread on his sandwich and regarded the pink discs inside it. "When's Percy going to get here? I don't really wanna hang out with him."
"Don't worry, dear. He'll be gone before you know it."
Audrey gazed sentimentally at her eldest son for a moment. She turned her attention to the calendar and wrote "Kevin--Dinner at the Robinsons," under the following Tuesday.
Ponder this
An early postulate on the disequilibrium between food production and population growth was thought of by Thomas Robert Malthus but he lived through a period of unprecedented economic productivity, what made him go against the trend of the day?
There have been cases of mass starvation, most notably in resource-rich socialist states such as the Soviet Union in the 1950s, and China in the 1960s. But now Venezuela (the most oil-rich nation on Earth) had repeated the same mistake. What could explain this paradox?
Discuss
Why are people apprehensive about genetically-modified foods? How are GMOs different from what we have done to plants in the past in order to make them more productive? Why do agronomists support GMOs, other than for reasons of productivity? How do we know that they are harmless? What sort of tests or research that were done to prove this?
Further readings
Thomas Robert Malthus, a pioneer on the field of demography, known for his work An Essay on the Principle of Population, which explains the...
Malthusian catastrophe, is a prediction of a forced return to subsistence-level conditions once population growth has outpaced agricultural production.
Norman Borlaug, Nobel Peace Prize laureate, and the father of the Green Revolution; credited to have saved a billion people from starvation.
Genetically modified crops, or GMCs, the next step towards another agricultural revolution.
