
With social and economic development, food systems have significantly changed on the Tibetan plateau over the last two decades. However, the impact of dietary change on Tibetans and their communities remains less well known. This article examines how food change happens in semi-agricultural areas of eastern Tibet within the context of development. To do this, this research proposes an integrated analytical framework that brings together ecology, social and political economy, with food at the center of interrelationships. By focusing on ecology and adopting a systemic approach, this study highlights the connection between biology and sociocultural factors, thereby helping to bridge the lacuna between nutritional anthropology and the anthropology of food. Based on 3 months of fieldwork, the study argues that as an economy develops in semi-agricultural areas, the integrated relationship between ecology and socioeconomic practices is broken down. As a result, people have become increasingly reliant on the market for food resources, leading to the emergence of new food systems. This shift has triggered vulnerabilities in both the social and biological dimensions of people's lives.
My initial academic trajectory was pre-med, but early on I discovered anthropology. I soon realized that these were not disparate directions, but that some aspects of health could not be fully understood without attention to cultural aspects of behavior. Food consumption became for me a common thread across culture, archeology, human evolution, and modern epidemiology. A group of anthropology colleagues, with similar interests in the intersections of these topics, began to form, and thus I found myself as one of the founders of the Society for Nutritional Anthropology. This academic memoir focuses on the diverse biocultural topics I have embraced under this rubric, ranging from household refuse analysis (Garbology) to understanding (cultural) bias in reporting food intake, to diabetes etiology and prevention among American Indians of the US Southwest, Pacific Northwest, and Canadian NWT, to the role of lack of palatable water in the etiologies of diabetes and obesity.
In the mid-2010s, food insecurity in higher education gained traction as both a concern of universities and a topic of research for scholars. In this contribution to SAFN's 50-year anniversary, I reflect on how food anthropologists have studied college student hunger over the past decade. Based on a review of SAFN member works, discussions with colleagues, and my own experience studying student food insecurity, I explore how the anthropological view, including ways of asking questions, developing studies, and interpreting data, represent a unique contribution to this field. Broadly, anthropologists seek to balance ethnographic storytelling with historic, political-economic, and structural understandings of the root causes and consequences of campus hunger and the changing dynamics of the U.S. social safety net and the U.S. college student population. Moving forward, anthropologists must "study up" to the administrative level, to where systems of structure and power lie, in order to make structural-level recommendations and changes to campus food systems that ensure food security for all students.
This paper describes the rise of food anthropology through the lens of the author's personal experience of the field from 1974 through 2025. Using food-centered life history interviews with Florentines in Italy and Hispanics in the U.S. Southwest, the author has focused on women's identity, relationships and power. This work has reflected the growing cultural and political-economic bent of food anthropology and its strong feminist perspectives. The article identifies key trends in the field and some big questions food anthropologists are facing in the future.
This article is a personal reflection on how SAFN addressed my academic identity crisis in the late 70s. The development of the anthropology of food and nutrition provided opportunities to refashion disciplinary praxis and to link the little and the large in interesting ways. Practitioners also used food and nutrition to challenge conceptual silos, making it easier for policy makers to use anthropological research.
The Committee (later Council) on Nutritional Anthropology was organized in the mid-1970s to bring together the anthropology of food and nutrition that spanned archeology, evolutionary biological and physical, sociocultural, and also theoretical, applied, and policy-engaged interests. This essay, drawing on my personal and professional experiences and prior American Anthropological Association contributions, outlines the history of the Society for Anthropology of Food and Nutrition (SAFN) with reflections on its 1970s origins, 1980s institutionalization, and 1990s through 2010s transitions. As touchstones, with reference to my research, writings, and advocacy, it emphasizes changing conceptualizations and approaches to hunger and human rights, with special attention to the challenges of breaking the links between hunger and conflict.
Minority communities are vulnerable to poor health due to diet-related diseases, a fact that food anthropologists have long discussed. This is also something that the individuals living within constrained food environments are aware of and challenge intellectually and on an embodied basis through food choices based on cultural and physical knowledge. Recognizing our interlocutors' ability to interpret their own choices and vulnerabilities, as well as their ability to do rigorous and worthwhile theory-crafting about their own experiences, is part of recognizing alternative epistemologies and is something food anthropologists have done well. However, we may need new practices to best demonstrate and study how these experiences are manifested in ways that can't only be expressed verbally or in text. Drawing on interviews conducted in the summer of 2023 at a community-led Farmers' Market in Dallas, Texas, I found that a traditional methodology does not capture how these communities feel and live in the space. In response, I call for scholars of food anthropology to strongly and creatively emphasize their interlocutors' experience and performance through sensory ethnography. It remains important for scholars to acknowledge how community relationships allow for survival in the face of adversity. This will enrich our scholarly understanding of the emic perspective within a foodscape and allow us to engage with our interlocutors as colleagues in the study of food and nutrition.
As we celebrate half a century as an important field in anthropology, nutritional anthropologists will benefit from a deeper understanding of our methodological and theoretical roots. This article highlights the founding scholars in our field and demonstrates that their work remains relevant decades later.
Although many anthropologists have engaged with the political and economic work of "place" in qualifying and working with food, time has rarely featured substantively in the economic and political life of the comestible. Gathering themes from my ethnographic research in Northern Italy and excavation time in anthropological scholarship on food, my call for the "future" is to critically examine how time is necessary to understand place and placemaking in the holistic study of food. Termed time work in my research, this piece briefly unpacks possibilities to consider the role of time as one of practice with food (itself a temporally mediated substance) that shapes not only narratives of memory, nostalgia, or history, but also the constraints and agendas of growing and eating food. In times often glossed as climatologically or economically uncertain, such narratives further necessitate careful attention to temporalities that are made meaningful and practiced. In so doing, I suggest time can offer ways for scholars to move beyond the packaging of place and consider how temporality is put to work out of increasingly constricted margins and exclusionary territories to make values, livelihood, and belonging.
This article examines how the commodified body of the cow is formed through the accrual of materialized touches. Focusing on the notion of legitimate touch, it shows that legal definitions of permissible bodily interference are saturated by scripts of care and future (economic) promise, which legitimize intimate bodily interventions over nonhuman animals' bodies. Drawing on research on live cattle imports in Turkey, the article analyzes two modalities of touch, namely indeterminate and promising forms, to document how tactility can both suspend the assumed categorizations of animals involved and reproduce the imperatives of (re)productivity. While indeterminate touch is indicative of the unruly potentials of multispecies labor and affect, promising touch draws from and reproduces scripts of future productivity and care. A comparison of these two reveals the extent to which tactile interventions over animals' bodies are aligned with broader regimes of value, gendered labor, and (re)production of the cows for/as a commodity. The analysis argues for the significance of bringing tactility into critical analyses on industrial animal agriculture to both foreground the multiplicity of sensoria operative in industrial production and extend the discussion beyond the biopolitical allocation of killability.
The paper focuses on what can be called the problem of deliciousness. When examining serious food-related problems such as justice and equity, nutrition and health, and sustainability and the environment, some regard taste, more specifically deliciousness, as problematic. However, as this paper shows, human pleasure in food is vital to a healthy and sustainable food system. After investigating the history of the term deliciousness, the paper proceeds to examine both negative and positive aspects of deliciousness for human and planetary health. While delectable tastes can be problematic, deliciousness is ultimately a positive gift that not only provides pleasure, commensality and conviviality, but is central to human and planetary well-being. What all people are entitled to is not just "food," it is pleasure which is not only complementary but integral to health and sustainability.
On the occasion of SAFN's 50th anniversary I reflect on the development of biocultural and human evolutionary approaches to human diet and nutrition. I maintain that SAFN and its predecessors the Committee (1974-1987) and then Council on Nutritional Anthropology (1987-2004) have modeled, fostered, and advanced biocultural work in anthropology in a way that is unique within the broader field of anthropology. At the risk of being trite, the phrase "you are what you eat" captures the reasons why the study of diet is so amenable to this holistic approach. It speaks to aspects of humanity that are universal, or species-wide (e.g., nutrient requirements) and those that are highly variable across populations and cultures (e.g., foodways). Here I highlight the key topics, approaches, and theoretical stances that have influenced my own biocultural research and engagement with SAFN over the past 30+ years and consider the status of nutritional anthropology within the scope of contemporary anthropology, especially in human evolutionary studies.
The rural district of Valdres in central Norway is home to one of the largest intact transhumant farming zones in Europe. The low-mountain st & oslash;lslandskap, or "summer mountain farming landscape," a singular, sub-polar socionature, is undergoing significant economic and environmental transition. As transhumant farming decreases and anthropogenic climate change progresses, the culturally treasured st & oslash;lslandskap is becoming reforested and effectively disappearing. In a local reversal of global environmentalist logic, Valdres residents see this forest regeneration as a highly regrettable loss. Many believe forest regrowth is a cultural problem that should be staved off with increased, but deliberately small-scale, human and agricultural activity to restore the st & oslash;lslandskap to its traditional state. Drawing on long-term ethnographic research among transhumant farmers in Valdres, we highlight the need to attend to local interpretations of ecologies and landscapes to develop viable environmental policies and stewardship strategies.
The rural district of Valdres in central Norway is home to one of the largest intact transhumant farming zones in Europe. The low-mountain stølslandskap , or “summer mountain farming landscape,” a singular, sub-polar socionature, is undergoing significant economic and environmental transition. As transhumant farming decreases and anthropogenic climate change progresses, the culturally treasured stølslandskap is becoming reforested and effectively disappearing. In a local reversal of global environmentalist logic, Valdres residents see this forest regeneration as a highly regrettable loss. Many believe forest regrowth is a cultural problem that should be staved off with increased, but deliberately small-scale, human and agricultural activity to restore the stølslandskap to its traditional state. Drawing on long-term ethnographic research among transhumant farmers in Valdres, we highlight the need to attend to local interpretations of ecologies and landscapes to develop viable environmental policies and stewardship strategies.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, global demand for ravintsara (Cinnamomum camphora ct 1,8-cineole), an introduced yet naturalized medicinal tree, surged due to its reputed antiviral properties. In Madagascar's highlands, informal distillers (mpitanika ravina) became essential workers, producing ravintsara essential oil around the clock with leaves supplied by equally informal collectors to meet urgent export orders. The labor of harvesting and distilling, or transforming leaves into a liquid therapeutic commodity for export, constitutes a critical but largely obscured node in the essential oil value chain. This article argues that the designation of essential extends beyond the product itself to encompass the work sustaining its production for alternative health markets during the pandemic. Drawing on multi-sited ethnographic research in Madagascar's Central Highlands, I examine how Malagasy workers ensured the continued production of plant-derived anti-virals under volatile market conditions, precarious labor arrangements, and pandemic restrictions. Rather than focusing on smallholder farmers or industrial exporters, this study centers on those situated between cultivation and export, specifically leaf collectors, still builders, distillery owners, and distillation workers. By attending to essential oil extraction, and the labor, infrastructures, and technical expertise it requires, the article demonstrates how informal workers sustain global supply chains, adapt to public health crises, and shape the production and circulation of alternative medicine commodities.
This article uses the case of Cinchona officinalis entrepreneurship during the COVID-19 pandemic to explore how dynamics of care and extraction figure within the construct of multispecies solidarity. C. officinalis is an endangered medicinal tree that holds global historical significance as a natural source of quinine. In Loja, Ecuador, C. officinalis trees were extracted for their bark or "casarilla" to the point of near-extinction in the late 1800s. Today, the trees continue to play a significant role in local health knowledge and practice, making them vulnerable to exploitation when disease events spike demand for medicinal resources. During the COVID-19 pandemic, entrepreneurs played a unique role fostering solidarities with C. officinalis by developing cascarilla-based products that reduced pressure on wild trees while enabling local health practices. Drawing on interviews and participant observation with entrepreneurs, cascarilla harvesters, and consumers, the author uses the phrases solidarity through and solidarity with C. officinalis to highlight how seemingly instrumentalist interactions with medicinal species are tied to practices of care that enable more-than-human communities to navigate global health crises. Yet, as the following analysis highlights, the ability to enact solidarities with nonhuman species is strongly shaped by social status and economic resources. Ultimately, this article diversifies understandings of what multispecies solidarity can look like while critically engaging in questions of who is best positioned to participate. Such considerations are essential as communities prepare for futures in which pressures on medicinal species become more frequent amid recurring disease crises.
Based on interviews and participant observation activities conducted in 2024, this article investigates the perspectives and experiences of Illinois farmers cultivating CBD (cannabidiol) hemp. The 2018 U.S. Farm Bill legalized hemp, defined as cannabis containing < 0.3% delta-9 tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the intoxicating compound found in marijuana. Hemp includes both non-intoxicating CBD varieties used to help alleviate anxiety, pain, and related disorders, and industrial varieties grown for fiber and food. Illinois passed a bill legalizing hemp agriculture in 2018, inspiring an explosion of interest among farmers in growing CBD. The first several years of CBD agriculture in Illinois followed a "boom and bust" cycle, with many farmers struggling to process and market their hemp. Six years after legalization, CBD growers remained suspended in a difficult transitional moment. They successfully overcame many of the initial challenges associated with growing and processing CBD hemp, but they still face profound legal gray areas and uncertainties. CBD may technically be legal, but it is enduringly illicit, as it is subject to lingering stigmatization and regulatory ambiguities that pose serious challenges for farmers. These issues have been exacerbated by the legalization of recreational marijuana in Illinois. The perspectives and experiences of these Illinois CBD farmers reveal the hidden political and social work involved in "pharming" cannabis, how farmers navigate regulatory uncertainty, and how the current structure of the U.S. cannabis industry pits smallholders and subsector stakeholders against one another, furthering trends toward corporate consolidation. This case study also illustrates how small farmers in the U.S. face pressures to innovate and diversify but often struggle to benefit from agricultural policies and programs that promote the adoption of novel crops.
Based on interviews and participant observation activities conducted in 2024, this article investigates the perspectives and experiences of Illinois farmers cultivating CBD (cannabidiol) hemp. The 2018 U.S. Farm Bill legalized hemp, defined as cannabis containing < 0.3% delta-9 tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the intoxicating compound found in marijuana. Hemp includes both non-intoxicating CBD varieties used to help alleviate anxiety, pain, and related disorders, and industrial varieties grown for fiber and food. Illinois passed a bill legalizing hemp agriculture in 2018, inspiring an explosion of interest among farmers in growing CBD. The first several years of CBD agriculture in Illinois followed a “boom and bust” cycle, with many farmers struggling to process and market their hemp. Six years after legalization, CBD growers remained suspended in a difficult transitional moment. They successfully overcame many of the initial challenges associated with growing and processing CBD hemp, but they still face profound legal gray areas and uncertainties. CBD may technically be legal, but it is enduringly illicit , as it is subject to lingering stigmatization and regulatory ambiguities that pose serious challenges for farmers. These issues have been exacerbated by the legalization of recreational marijuana in Illinois. The perspectives and experiences of these Illinois CBD farmers reveal the hidden political and social work involved in “pharming” cannabis, how farmers navigate regulatory uncertainty, and how the current structure of the U.S. cannabis industry pits smallholders and subsector stakeholders against one another, furthering trends toward corporate consolidation. This case study also illustrates how small farmers in the U.S. face pressures to innovate and diversify but often struggle to benefit from agricultural policies and programs that promote the adoption of novel crops.