When I began living without money 18 months ago, the most common question people asked me was “How on earth are you going to eat?”. An understandable remark, but an insight into the burgeoning degrees of separation between the stomach and the soil.
For most of us, food comes in plastic packets from the supermarket. A friend, who runs tours of an organic farm for school children, gives much anecdotal evidence of this. One week, while pointing to a rosemary bush, he asked the kids if anyone knew what it was. After 20 seconds, one 12-year-old raised his hand and proclaimed it to be “corned beef”. Worse still, none of the others laughed.