What Are We Really Eating?

There was a time when food was judged by smell, by taste, by the way it felt in your hands. A crooked carrot meant it grew around a stone. A blemish on an apple meant the wind had its way with it. A tomato that split open in the sun meant it was alive.

So how did we get here?

How did we become a society that believes food must be flawless to be healthy?

Why do we assume that perfect shape equals perfect nutrition?

Why must a cucumber be straight, a tomato be uniformly red, an apple be waxed and polished like a showroom car?

Because somewhere along the way, marketing replaced farming.

We were taught that consistency equals safety. That uniformity equals quality. That anything outside the visual standard must be defective. Grocery store shelves became beauty pageants. Food became a product first, nourishment second.

But let me ask you something:

Do you know what G.R.A.S. stands for?

It means Generally Recognized As Safe.

It’s a designation used by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA). It allows certain substances additives, preservatives, processing aids to be used in food without formal approval if experts agree they are considered safe under intended conditions of use.

Generally recognized.

Not universally tested for generations.

Not proven harmless in every long-term scenario.

Just… generally recognized.

How many people know that?

How many people truly understand what “Certified Organic” means? Or what the label “USDA Organic” actually requires under the United States Department of Agriculture?

USDA Organic certification means the farm and processor follow specific federal standards: no synthetic pesticides (with some exceptions), no GMOs, defined soil management practices, recordkeeping, inspections. It’s a regulated label. It is not just a marketing phrase.

But do most shoppers know the difference between “organic,” “made with organic ingredients,” and “natural”?

Do they know that “natural” has no consistent legal meaning in many cases?

And what about food safety?

Do people understand what is required to legally sell food in the United States? The inspections, permits, facility standards, hazard analysis plans, traceability systems, temperature controls, labeling compliance. Since the Food Safety Modernization Act, prevention not reaction is the rule. It is complex. It is costly. It is layered with regulation.

Yet we still expect a tomato to cost less than a bottle of soda.

How many Americans understand what Free Trade agreements are? Or Fair Trade agreements?

Free Trade agreements reduce tariffs and trade barriers between countries, making it easier and cheaper to import and export goods including food. That’s why blueberries can travel thousands of miles and still land on your shelf in winter.

Fair Trade is different. It focuses on ethical labor standards and fair wages for producers, often in developing countries. It attempts to balance the economic scales.

But do we connect these policies to the strawberries in January? To the avocados in every season? To the pressure on domestic farmers competing with global pricing structures?

And then there’s another question people are often uncomfortable asking:

How does USDA customs inspection work at our ports of entry? How are trucks and cargo containers inspected when they cross into the United States? Agencies like Customs and Border Protection and the USDA inspect agricultural imports for pests, contamination, and compliance. Yet with the massive volume of goods entering daily, inspections are risk-based and selective.

Do most Americans know how much product moves through those ports?

Do they understand that illegal drugs like fentanyl and methamphetamine often enter concealed within commercial supply chains sometimes hidden among legitimate cargo?

Do they understand the scale, the complexity, the strain on enforcement systems?

Food moves in a global network now.  And anything that can move globally can be exploited globally.

We live in a system where appearance is engineered, supply chains are international, additives are “generally recognized,” and labels are trusted more than farmers.

We demand perfection, but we don’t ask questions.

We demand cheap, but we don’t examine cost.

We demand year-round abundance, but we don’t ask what it takes to make that possible.

A crooked carrot might be the most honest thing in the store.

A blemished apple might tell a truer story than a polished one.

So maybe the real question is this:

When did we decide that food should look like plastic and last like metal?

Because health doesn’t come from symmetry.

Nutrition doesn’t come from shine.

And responsibility doesn’t come from outsourcing every step of our survival.

At some point, we must stop blaming the system while feeding it blindly.

You must feed yourself from your own soil whether that means a backyard garden, a community plot, supporting a local farmer, or learning where your food truly comes from.

You must take responsibility for your purchases.

Because every dollar you spend is a vote.

And every meal you eat is a decision about the kind of world you are willing to grow.

And then there is the label so many people cling to as the gold standard: USDA Organic.

Most consumers assume that when they see that green and white seal from the United States Department of Agriculture, it means someone is constantly on the farm, walking the fields, testing the soil, watching every input.

But is that what really happens?

Organic certification is largely administered through accredited third-party certifying agencies. Farms and processors apply, submit documentation, pay fees, and undergo inspections typically once per year. There are audits and risk-based oversight systems, yes. But the scale of the organic market has grown dramatically, while inspection resources have not always grown at the same pace.

So ask yourself:

How often are imported organic products inspected compared to domestic ones?

How many residue tests are actually performed relative to total volume?

How much of the certification process relies on paperwork verification versus real-time, on-the-ground monitoring?

For many producers, certification becomes an administrative exercise: maintaining binders of records, paying annual fees, tracking inputs, updating organic system plans, preparing for inspection day.

Paper compliance matters. Documentation matters. But paperwork is not the same thing as soil health.

The organic seal requires adherence to standards  but it does not automatically guarantee nutrient density. It does not guarantee small-scale farming. It does not guarantee local production. And it certainly does not guarantee moral superiority.

There have been documented cases of fraudulent imports, mislabeled grain shipments, and supply chain loopholes that revealed how vulnerable a paperwork-heavy system can be. When organic corn can be shipped across oceans and still qualify, it raises questions about traceability and verification at global scale.

So is the system entirely broken? No.

Are there deeply committed organic farmers doing the work with integrity? Absolutely.

But it’s fair to ask:

Has organic certification, in some cases, become more about access to a premium market than about transformation of the food system?

Is it possible that for some operations, the label becomes a cost of doing business — a fee paid to enter a higher price tier?

Because when certification becomes expensive, complex, and bureaucratic, smaller farms often struggle to participate. Meanwhile, large-scale operations with compliance departments and legal teams navigate the system with relative ease.

And so we must ask:

Are we paying for what’s behind the label  or are we paying for the label itself?

The seal is a tool. It is not a substitute for knowing your farmer.

It is a regulatory framework. It is not a relationship.

If we rely entirely on labels to think for us, we surrender our responsibility to understand.

And that brings us back to the deeper truth:

No certification can replace stewardship.

No federal seal can replace soil under your fingernails.

No system however well intentioned can substitute for personal accountability.

In the end, the most transparent food system is the one where you can see the ground it came from.

You must feed yourself from your own soil  in whatever way that looks like for you. Grow it. Know who grows it. Support those who grow it with integrity.

And take responsibility for your purchases.

Because the future of food is not written in a label.

It is written in the choices you make every single day.