In recent years, increased focus on the healthfulness of American food— or lack thereof— has pushed residents to be more intentional with their grocery selections, abstaining from ultra-processed foods and prioritizing fruits and vegetables. Research suggests that healthier food choices are generally more expensive than their unhealthier alternatives, but it’s an up-charge many are willing to shoulder en route to a nutritious lifestyle.
But this isn’t a simple adjustment for every American. Corner stores and fast food, though sparse with nourishing dietary choices, tend to surround many low-income city neighborhoods, while grocers are inconveniently far. Even if shoppers make the trip to these grocery stores, they may have to choose between healthy food and inexpensive groceries; consequently, many people often settle for affordable but unhealthy food— a trade-off that heightens vulnerability to chronic diseases like diabetes and heart disease.
A useful yet inadequate term for hotspots of these obstacles is a “food desert,” which The Empowerment Project defines as places where affordable and nutritious food is limited because of an “absence of grocery stores within convenient traveling distance.” Grocery store proximity is undeniably a contributor to the urban food crisis: in cities dominated by corner stores, fast food, and other sources of ultra-processed options, shoppers without vehicles may have to take multiple trips via public transportation just to get to and from their nearest grocery store. Walking down the street to the corner store, however, is free and more time-efficient.
At the same time, the concept of a “food desert” doesn’t account for other variables— for instance, grocery stores that are nearby and sell healthy products, but at unaffordable prices. Semantically, critics contend, the term also suggests that the formation of these areas is natural, like many geographic deserts are, when systemic forces like gentrification and redlining have historically carved out food-poor environments.
Instead, these regions’ conditions are more characteristic of “food apartheid,” defined as the division between people who can easily access appropriate food options and those who, through systemic inequity, cannot. This term, coined by activist Karen Washington, emphasizes the discriminatory nature of nutritious food accessibility in ways that “food desert” does not.
Indeed, food apartheid disproportionately affects low-income individuals and people of color. In Philadelphia’s predominantly Black communities, the majority of food spots are convenience stores and fast-food restaurants— grocery stores are typically too distant and expensive to compete with their counterparts. Fresh fruits and vegetables may be sold individually and for higher prices at corner stores than they would be at larger markets, disincentivizing customers from purchasing them altogether— it’s more difficult to justify buying a single banana over a bag of chips and soda. Fast-food restaurants only compound this dynamic. While local organizations like The Food Trust encourage Philadelphian convenience stores to stock more fresh produce, the dearth of affordable and nutritious food has largely been unanswered.
Philadelphia is only one of many cities struggling with food apartheid nationwide. A 2023 article from the Harvard Political Review revealed that the “food desert” of Lawrence, Massachusetts, consisting of sizable Black and Latino populations, had an obesity rate of nearly 70 percent. With supermarkets being inconveniently far, many residents prefer to shop at local bodegas at the expense of a healthier food selection. In Oakland’s Alameda County, activist and researcher Lisa Ghanem noticed that low-income neighborhoods with great Black and Latino populations often had robust access to alcohol and tobacco, but little access to fresh produce— and according to an Oakland equity report, roughly half of the city’s Black and Latino children were predicted to develop diabetes at some point in their lifetimes.
Simply living in high-density regions of fast food and other unhealthy food spots is associated with an increased risk of not just diabetes, but obesity, stroke, and other harmful conditions. The consequences of food apartheid extend beyond disease, however: residents of these areas may also lack food spots that are both diverse and affordable, which interferes with dietary accommodations like allergies, religious observance, or culturally appropriate meals.
Fortunately, the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) combats food insecurity, giving over 40 million Americans an avenue to more comfortably purchase healthy options. Organizations like this are not ones that America can afford to infringe on— roughly one in seven Americans live in food-insecure households, and 18.8 million reside in “food deserts,” but, like many other federal programs, SNAP has already encountered major funding cuts and is susceptible to more.
Food apartheid remains a national issue: it divides cities and pits personal finances against health. Addressing its roots, however deep this inequity runs, is integral to the quality of life for various marginalized people. And so, whether on the federal, state, or city level, breaking the apartheid belongs high on the agenda of the government.
Leave a Reply