"Would You Like the Chicken or the Fish?" Everyday Food Choices and Climate Impact
By Eliza Sheff
As a young child, I was an incredibly picky eater. Ironically enough, the types of foods I refused to eat are foods that I now consider to be personal vices that I struggle to limit based on their environmental impact. I now eat a diverse diet and find joy in trying new dishes and cuisines, which consistently feels at odds with my knowledge of how our food choices impact the climate. While ~80% of the meals I cook at home are vegetarian, I find myself reluctant to fully commit to the vegetarian or vegan lifestyle. My climate-guilt over continuing to consume low amounts of meat and dairy has led me to consider that there are other individuals like me, who wanted to make an effort by reducing their consumption of high-emissions foods without completely eliminating them from their diets. This begs the following questions: “How many individuals understand the environmental impacts of the food they eat?” and “Is there a way to conveniently illustrate these impacts for those who are reluctant to limit their meat and dairy intake, but could be otherwise convinced?”
In this context, I have begun to consider the concept of incrementalism, which can be described as, “perfection being the enemy of good.” In striving to be perfect in what we eat and committing the most ethical, sustainable diet possible, it’s likely that some or most of us will burn out and revert back to diets we were raised on, which frequently involve higher-emissions foods, particularly in the United States. However, if everyone attempted to limit their consumption of these foods and chose alternative, lower-emissions foods at restaurants or in grocery stores, the emissions savings start to add up. According to an August 2019 article in the journal Scientific Reports, if everyone in the U.S. replaced a quarter of meat they ate with plant-based options of equivalent nutritional value, we could save 82 million metric tons of greenhouse gases (GHGs) a year (~1% reduction). Based on those values, if everyone in the U.S. replaced 80% of the meat they ate with plant-based options, we could save 264 million metric tons of GHGs a year (~4% reduction).
If we had a handy way to visualize the emissions we were saving - at a restaurant, or at the grocery store - would we make different choices? Would a red-meat lover choose chicken or fish over a burger more frequently, if they understood the emissions implications? Personally, I balk when I see calorie counts listed on menus - guilt drives me towards choosing a lower-calorie option when I can’t ignore that my first choice item would “cost” me a full day or two’s worth of calories. Could carbon or GHG labeling, based on the amount of emissions produced to provide a standard serving of a type of food or meal, have a similar effect on our choices?
This concept in action could shape the choices of individuals in my diet demographic - those of us who aren’t ready to commit to going vegan or vegetarian, but aspire to consume far less meat and dairy than what is traditional in a typical American diet - as well as those who have no prior knowledge on the subject at all and are prompted to consider it for the first time. I explored what this might look like by developing an infographic based on 2017 FAO data, and the product gives me pause when I make food-related choices.
Notably, the difference in emissions between grass-fed beef and conventionally raised beef is astronomical - some individuals choose grass-fed beef for environmental or ethical reasons, but the “environment” and “emissions reduction” are not always synonymous. What might be the best for the animal and the ecosystem in which it lives, might also produce more GHGs that are warming our planet. In this case, having a visual representation might convince people who might ordinarily feel virtuous choosing grass-fed beef, to forgo beef entirely and opt for pork, chicken, fish, or a vegetarian option. The graphic includes some of the most popular high-emissions foods, primarily protein sources (meat, eggs, tofu) or other typical entrees at a restaurant that may not revolve around animal protein (pasta) based on portion sizes for an American audience. Fruits and vegetables were not included in the scope of the visual, because most meat-eating Americans do not focus their meals around them. The graphic aims to caution and educate, much like a calorie-count listing, and allow the viewer to make an informed choice about what they are consuming.
Realistically, an entire country isn’t going to go vegetarian or vegan at the drop of a hat. Real, lasting change is incremental, measurable, and often painstaking. There is no country-wide or globally agreed-upon “most sustainable diet”. In the end, the most sustainable diet is a primarily plant-based diet that you, as an individual, can be consistent with. That might look like veganism, vegetarianism, or it might look like committing to one vegetarian day a week when you otherwise eat meat with every meal and working up from there. Sometimes consistency is a better goal to strive for than perfection, and ultimately could produce the most effective results in mitigating greenhouse gas emissions.
Eliza is a rising second-year MALD student studying International Environment and Resource Policy. Special thanks to Miquel Munoz Cabre and the Tufts Data Design Lab for assistance with this research and graphic.