Every week, thousands of people line up with bags waiting to receive food. These are not images from the past, in black and white, but those of our society that dreams of itself in color.
Last August, a Pollara Strategic Insights survey for Food Banks Canada found that 35 per cent of Canadians were experiencing more financial hardship than they were three months earlier. In its annual report card, the same organization found that 44 per cent of Canadian adults considered themselves to be in worse shape this year than last.
The price of a grocery basket has gone up. Even though at first glance it seems that they have stabilized, inequalities are becoming more apparent in every supermarket aisle. Who can still afford to buy food without thinking twice, without calculating each expense carefully?
Food prices are much higher than before the pandemic. For some, this weight is becoming impossible to bear. In Quebec, one in five children goes to school on an empty stomach.
Should we keep this dark backdrop in mind when we are trying to shed light on the increase in shoplifting? This type of theft has increased by 41% in one year, at least according to data released by the Sûreté du Québec. In municipalities that manage their own police service, is it the same? In Longueuil, at least, the fifth largest city, yes. Thefts there are said to have increased by 12% in one year. It is so easy to simply say that we are dealing with a crisis of incivility…
Perhaps we are suffering from Hygrade syndrome. Remember the commercials for that sausage maker? “The more people eat them, the fresher they are,” the ad proclaimed. “And the fresher they are, the more people eat them.” This phrase perfectly illustrates the magical thinking that governs consumption: an endless cycle in which every action seems to be justified by its own logic. Based on this fragile model, retailers claim that the more thefts occur, the higher prices rise. Is this really such a simple explanation for the spiral of inflation we are experiencing?
Faced with this dog chasing its tail, it is impossible not to end up feeling dizzy.
One thing is certain: the inequalities of life are not resolved in the aisles of the grocery store or in the increased profits of credit companies.
There are of course several factors that can explain the rise in food prices. In recent months, there has been a lot of talk about them. But there are two, it seems to me, that we rarely talk about.
First, the considerable decline in pollinating insects. On a global scale, these insects are victims of chemical agents that invade our fields and gardens. They are dying. In Europe, as in many parts of the world, pesticides, although known for their devastating effects on ecosystems, continue to be sprayed without scruple.
For those of you who drive around the countryside in your car in the summer, have you noticed that your windshields are cleaner than ever? There are fewer insects. However, the savings on window cleaner will eventually cost you dearly. They are a sign of the exorbitant price we will have to pay for the collapse of biodiversity.
Industrial agriculture has ravaged the cycle of life. In December 2022, researchers at Harvard University showed that the drop in the abundance of pollinating insects is leading to a 5% annual decline in global fruit and vegetable production. Their study, published in the journal Environmental Health Perspectives, reveals that this decline is causing a spiral of rising prices, consequently reducing access to food throughout the world. To the point of causing additional deaths, the researchers say.
The alarming decline in biodiversity has become this uncomfortable truth that we choose to ignore with great pleasure. In Quebec, the disappearance of the caribou is seen as a minor inconvenience in a forest ecosystem that we exploit relentlessly, without ever really questioning our way of doing things. We are pulling the rug out from under our feet. Until the day when we will no longer be able to eat?
In a global system in freefall, profits, moreover, continue to climb. He was charming, Minister François-Philippe Champagne, when he appeared before the supermarket giants, promising to encourage them to lower their prices. With eyes bigger than his stomach, the minister put on a show, with the air of Don Quixote facing windmills. Of course, beyond the handshakes and smiles in front of the cameras, such an act of conciliation ultimately did not result in any real structural change.
Buying is not voting. And speaking is not legislating. The social structure has remained intact. Beyond appeals to kindness, we must rely on laws, on principles that are rooted in reality and capable of discouraging greed as much as punishing the vice that benefits a few.
Everyone remembers the bread cartel, even if this story was quickly buried. As has happened many times in the petrochemical industry, the bread market was controlled for years by a handful of major players, discreetly agreeing on the prices of this commodity. A few slaps on the wrists of these thieves, and life went on as if nothing had happened. However, is there a stronger symbol than that of bread, this food at the base of our societies? Is it permissible to think that big hands continue to happily stick their fingers in the jam jar, gorging themselves without the public knowing?
The real culprits, we are told, are not those bandits in suits and ties, but those who, it seems, are in such bad shape that they are reduced to eating dog.