“They eat the rich, don’t they?”: Will FoodTok Spark a Modern Revolution?
Words: Kemiso Wessie
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It was the week of my 24th birthday and in between my existential crises about capitalism and ugly crying about not having medical insurance, I found reprieve by diving head-first into the abyss of #kitchenrestocks. I emerged four hours later questioning the economic feasibility of not only Oishii’s $60 carton of half a dozen strawberries, but any fruit at all. I day dreamed of still affording four different kinds of cheese in a single grocery shop trip.
As the cacophony of social media reverberates with the clinking of coquette champagne flutes, ASMR kitchen restocks and the rustle of grocery bags, the chasm between the haves and the have-nots widens. While lower-income individuals tighten their belts amidst the cost of living crisis, the modern nobility - celebrities, influencers, and other digital denizens - seem to bellow from their full-stocked pantry palaces: "Let them eat cake."
The apocryphal statement attributed to Marie Antoinette is modernly reincarnated in the abundant grocery hauls and pantry restock videos under the FoodTok hashtag. Yet beneath the surface lies the harsh reality of food insecurity and economic inequality, reminiscent of the tensions that ignited the French Revolution over two centuries ago.
Where every meal is a masterpiece, and pantries are a cornucopia of plenty, the excess of FoodTok videos serve as a poignant juxtaposition to the sobering statistics laid bare by the World Bank's 2023 World Food Security Outlook. Their projections show a risk of 943 million people facing severe food insecurity by 2025, with a further increase of 13 million by 2028 as inflation continues unchecked and governments fail to implement effective policies around issues like climate change. Rising temperatures, unstable weather patterns, floods and other natural disasters wreak havoc on agricultural production and supply chains, greatly exacerbating price fluctuations and further challenging food accessibility for vulnerable populations. From crop failures, supply chain disruptions and shortages, the ripple effects of climate change are felt in every corner of the globe at the supermarket till.
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“As the cost of living skyrockets and wages stagnate, the gap between aspiration and reality widens with each meticulously arranged butterbean and kale salad recipe, leaving many on the outside looking in.”
While influencers do Erewhon snack hauls and film themselves eating $100 worth of food in their cars with Mario Sound audio, low-income consumers only purchase the necessities, with fresh fruits and vegetables being a rare luxury. Victorian-era diseases like scurvy and rickets are making a comeback as millions grapple with the gnawing pangs of hunger. If this is the reality for so many people then how do content creators muster the audacity to create their grocery hauls, dinner party vlogs, “affordable” meal prep with me, and ‘what I eat in a day’ videos? As the cost of living skyrockets and wages stagnate, the gap between aspiration and reality widens with each meticulously arranged butterbean and kale salad recipe, leaving many on the outside looking in.
Though trying their hardest to seem relatable, food influencer videos, with a meticulous arrangement of luxury produce and artisanal delicacies - like a bag of blood oranges and shaped butters - present a tableau of abundance that borders on the absurd. While some may find inspiration and marvel at the bounty on display, for many, such extravagance is an unattainable dream.
As they gain popularity, influencers become out of touch with the world in which the majority of the people they’re creating content for exist. The proliferation of affordable and quick meal content serves as a double-edged sword in the battle against food insecurity, while well-intentioned, these recipes often rely on a litany of pantry ingredients that aren’t affordable, accessible or a stern priority, rendering them impractical for those on a tight budget. What good is a recipe for a lemon and tahini chopped salad when a multipack of chicken nuggets is beyond reach?
We make casual jokes about being hangry and gloss over the real and violent consequences of hunger. Yet there are countless examples, from the 1775 Flour War in France to the three-day long July 2021 unrest in South Africa where the cost was more than 350 deaths and R50-billion in estimated damage that stand in stark contrast to our humour making. Three years ago, my mother lost her job and suddenly looters storming supermarket aisles in search of food, nappies and essentials weren’t as out of order as we are made to believe - they were a resounding wake-up call about food security and poverty.
While my country swelled with uncertainty, my family pantry went from fully stocked to worryingly bare seemingly overnight and in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, the simple act of buying food became a Herculean task weighed down by the memory of full fruit bowls and the taste of daily multi-pot dinners. The excess that populated my social media feeds was a slap in the face disguised as a scrollable snapshot. While my fridge looked like a before shot of a fridge restock, more videos accumulated under the FoodTok hashtag - a sobering reality check in a world where avocado prices seem to defy gravity. Three years later, things have improved but this is not the same for the rest of South Africa, much less the world.
FoodTok is the digital banquet hall where everyone's invited to feast their eyes on the culinary delights of the modern age at the same time Palestinians go without aid and food, and child labourers in the Democratic Republic of Congo line up for a cup of porridge - the duality of social media is sure to widen class divides until something, anything, changes.