‘In our society, people rely on the philanthropy of strangers to avoid starving to death’

OVER THE LAST decade as a food writer, using the cheapest ingredients from three of the big four supermarkets, I’ve noticed that the value range products are stealthily being extinguished from the shelves. This leaves cash-strapped shoppers with no choice but to ‘level up’ to the higher priced goods – usually smaller quantities at larger prices. I’ve been informally monitoring this through writing recipes on my online blog and documenting the prices of the ingredients in forensic detail.

In 2012, 10 stock cubes from one supermarket were 10p. In 2022, those same stock cubes are 39p. More recently, last year the cheapest pasta in my local supermarket was 29p for 500g. Today, the cheap version is unavailable, so customers are more likely to pay 70p – a 141% price rise for the same product in more colourful packaging. A few years ago, there were over 400 products in one supermarket’s value range; today there is a quarter of that amount.

Energy companies boast profits of £2m per day while increasing bills by up to 75%. It was recently reported that households should expect a 54% hike in energy bills after the regulator, Ofgem, raised the price cap suppliers can charge up to £1,971 per year – so, in real terms, the average household energy bill will increase by £693. People with severe degenerative diseases and autoimmune conditions tell me they are living in one room, swathed in blankets, barely moving, with the heating off.

The Bank of England has warned that we should expect our standard of living to diminish. We are allegedly one of the richest economies in the world, but where that wealth is split is the reason for such stark inequality. People with very little are more likely to spend their money locally, at shops in walking distance. People with vast wealth squirrel it away in offshore accounts and tax havens, like dragons guarding their piles of gold. And yet, as a society, wealth is sold to us as an aspirational dream, whereby ‘getting by’ or needing support with living costs is riddled with stigma and shame.

The last 12 years of austerity cuts to social care and health services mean that the safety net of a decent and supportive society is less than threadbare. The triple threat of rocketing food prices, unmanageable energy bills and an underfunded National Health Service is going to cause long-term damage to families and individuals in almost every neighbourhood in the country. Every area now has at least one food bank; we live in a society where people need the ad-hoc macro philanthropy of neighbours and strangers in order to not starve to death.

I’ve been writing about these things for 10 long years now. I’ve given evidence to multiple Parliamentary inquiries, led many petitions, been consulted on the School Food Plan and the National Food Strategy, spoken twice at the Conservative Party conference and still the realities of the worst of our collective experiences are dismissed by people who refuse to hear them.

If the pandemic has taught us anything, let it be that food and job insecurity can happen to almost any of us with little warning. And that when we stand side by side as communities and do the right thing for the good of the many, we can collectively save lives with tiny actions. Like wearing our masks. Washing our hands. And popping some canned meat and sanitary protection in the local food bank collection. Better yet, considering how the way we vote might impact the most vulnerable of our neighbours.