When a pandemic hits and the fridge is empty: food in the time of Covid-19
Research summary from Bright Harbour research for the FSA, authored by Caitlin Connors, Laura Malan, Siobhan Canavan, Fan Sissoko, Maria Carmo, Claire Sheppard and Fran Cook. With huge thanks to our clients at the FSA for their trust and guidance, particularly Michelle Patel & Richard Bridge.
In partnership with the Food Standards Agency, Bright Harbour and trusted partners at AndGood spent our first summer under pandemic exploring the experiences of people living with food insecurity.
For our participants, living under the profound disruption, fear and anxiety of Covid-19, food was a continual source of concern and worry rather than nourishment or security. Birthdays with no birthday cake; day after day of peas on toast; freezers full of bread but nothing else; worsening health and mental health. Many cut calorie intake and reduced their food quality — with far-reaching physical and emotional impacts. Many children went without.
This post summarises a few key findings. The FSA has made our full report available for public use, including 4 case studies that show the complexity food insecurity experiences (summary images below).
The experiences represented in these 20 people’s stories are being repeated daily across the nation, and many continue to struggle without help. We are deeply grateful to our participants for sharing of themselves so openly, and encourage those who can speed change to read, use and share these findings.
1. An uncomfortable truth: food insecurity is a reality for rising numbers of UK citizens, in ways that track with wider inequalities
Food insecurity is a very formal phrase for a deeply scary human experience: not having the funds to ensure a steady supply of healthy food.
It is an experience that was on the rise well before Covid-19 arrived. Controlling for socioeconomic variables, the probability of low-income adults being food insecure rose from 27.7% in 2004 to 45.8% in 2016. Food insecurity in the UK has more than doubled under Covid-19 and lockdown and remained stable over the first four months of the pandemic.
Risk is not equally distributed, with likelihood of food insecurity rising along all-too-familiar socio-economic lines. Trussel Trust research suggests that households are more likely to be food insecure if they include: lone parents; larger families with children; adults or children with disabilities or health issues; and/or Black or other minority ethnic people.
2. Income loss has rapidly exacerbated existing insecurity and vulnerabilities.
Covid-19 rapidly worsened insecurity for people already struggling, and suddenly tipped those ‘just managing’ into insecurity. Established tactics for stretching limited incomes and food budgets failed as income reduced; there was little left to cut except food itself.
“I had to sign onto the dole, it’s the first time ever like… Before we had nearly enough to do us… now we are a couple of hundred pounds a week and it’s tough with all the bills and everyone eating and all that… Some days you’ll be starving like, but you just have to get by.” — M, 31, bricklayer, Northern Ireland
Many of those we spoke to were struggling long before pandemic — juggling challenges like low-paid work, zero-hours contracts, caring responsibilities, etc. Several were key workers lacking full time, reliable salaries — a teaching assistant, a social care professional, a family support worker.
Health and mental health challenges were particularly prevalent in our sample: 70% were experiencing chronic health issues prior to Covid-19; 65% long-term mental health issues. Depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress, food intolerances, IBS, colitis, ADHD, autism… the list goes on. Many also had children living with severe health issues.
Some were managing the ramifications of domestic violence and abuse, and/or raising children alone. One fled an abusive partner and spent the first months of pandemic in a hostel with her children.
“Could you imagine being in a hostel in lockdown with five children? We took the only thing on offer. ” — F, 46, single mum of 5, Northern Ireland
For many of our participants, food insecurity and pandemic presented yet additional things to juggle in addition to the life challenges they were already managing. Wondering how to manage on halved income still get meals on the table — and if the kids will now be safe from Dad. Navigating Covid-19 risk and getting my son to the hospital and dealing with the blood test results.
“[My child] has cystic fibrosis. [They] need a high fat diet to keep their weight up… if you don’t take the right medicine and the right foods you become very poorly and very lightweight very quick.” — M, 35, chef, London
Others had ‘just managed’ previously or done just fine — but income loss under pandemic quickly pulled the rug out from under their feet. See for example the experience of “Catriona” (names changed), who ran a successful business pre-pandemic but quickly found herself at 10% income, very little ability to limit outgoings, and minimal eligibility for financial support.
“…I had the letter back yesterday saying that I wasn’t eligible. It said, ‘lack of vulnerability’… Losing your home, and not being able to eat properly isn’t being vulnerable. I mean what else would they need..?” — Catriona
3. Living under pandemic got expensive — adding costs our participants couldn’t afford.
Many participants faced rising basic costs under Covid-19 and lock-down: increased costs for caring for parents or children at home; rising utility bills; rising electricity spend; etc.
Food became more expensive for almost everyone we spoke to. Spend had doubled or tripled for some even as they ate much less.
Shared meals counted on to stretch weekly food budgets disappeared. Supermarket delivery fees for those isolating or single-parenting were unaffordable yet non-negotiable. Reduced access to ‘budget’ shops and not being able to ‘bargain shop’ increased costs dramatically. Some shops suddenly charged more for basics.
“I usually use the Morrisons in the nearest big town, but now the buses only allow 4 people at a time, and the times don’t work — it doesn’t leave me enough time there to actually do the shop. So I’m buying at the corner store where things are twice as expensive… It’s £3 for a box of eggs, and £1.50 for a tin of sardines.” — M, 59, part time support worker, Cardiff
Stigma also brought costs of its own, sometimes hand in hand with needed support. Many we spoke to were shielding or otherwise unable to leave home, and gratefully received help from friends and family — but felt too ashamed to admit to them the strict limits of their weekly food shop, or to dictate brand or supermarket choices. Every bag of food brought by a loved one was received with relief but also anxiety: ‘how will we possibly afford all this?’
“Adam is a godsend — but it raised costs. An example of the price difference is dishwasher tablets; normally I get them for £2.99 in Home Bargains but he was getting them for £8.99! I usually use ASDA for food shopping and Home Bargains for things like cleaning stuff as that tends to be cheaper. Once Adam told me he went to Waitrose!! I was like — OH MY GOD, DON’T DO THAT! YOU CAN’T GO THERE. I’m laughing now because you have to laugh or you’ll just cry.” — F, 45, single mum, hairdresser, Cardiff
For example, “Alanna” found that her electricity and household costs rose rapidly as her adult children came home under pandemic. She was one of the most severely food insecure people we spoke to — but hadn’t sought formal support, feeling ‘others might need it more.’ Every minute was a juggling act.
“….So do I turn heating on for a couple of hours just to heat water, start heating radiators because they’re off, or do I turn on the immersion heater? One’s as dear as the other! …That’s my biggest issue. Which will I turn on?” — Alanna
3. Impacts reached far beyond missed meals: participants were experiencing complex and interlocking physical, emotional, social and financial challenges.
In a separate research piece for the FSA with the general public we conducted currently with this, people told us over and over about the ways in which food had provided a sense of comfort, nourishment, and routine under pandemic.
When the whole world changed, a favourite meal, a glass of wine, or a time to eat and chat with loved ones offered normality amidst profound uncertainty.
Not so for our participants, who under pandemic ate for only for basic sustenance. Many of the people we spoke to were subsisting mostly on tinned food, frozen food, or simple carbohydrates (bread, pasta and rice), and/or were skipping meals and going hungry regularly.
“I feel depressed really, it’s groundhog day. There is nothing to look forward to, the same different food everyday… just different bread, brown or white, or a bread roll. Every day is a church day: just bread — without the wine.” — F, 45, hairdresser, Cardiff
Some spoke of reduced family contact time over meals: there was little sense of social ‘sharing’ when serving toast for a second ‘meal’ of the day. Celebratory meals, like birthdays or Sunday dinners, were cancelled — eliminating ‘small pleasures’ that would otherwise provide useful distraction.
Some showed potential signs of malnutrition — for example, regularly feeling fatigued, sluggish or poorly. At the same time, many were putting on weight, even as they ate much less, raising concerns about links between obesity and Covid-19’s more severe symptoms.
Food insecurity spilled into health impact in inter-layered, complex ways. Stress, anxiety, overwhelm and depression were serious issues for many; well-being suffered, and existing mental health issues worsened.
Many with food intolerances were unable to afford foods used to manage their health (e.g., gluten free), with negative physical and emotional impact. Some were compromising on food safety — e.g. ‘stretching’ labelling advice around use-by dates, raising risks of food poisoning.
“My mental state is the worst it’s ever been. I had postnatal depression when I had my daughter, she’s 5 now. I’ve always battled with it. I’m on drugs for it. But I can’t feel the effects any more. I cried for an hour, I couldn’t help it…” — F, 40, mum of 2, family support worker, Northern Ireland
“My ADHD and antidepressants make food hard… There are textures I can’t do and I can eat the same food every day for a month and then randomly I will just stop and then just not eat that food for a while. Coco-Pops are one of the things I can always eat when I can’t eat anything else. Not being able to afford that was hard.” — F, 25, unemployed, London
Our team has thought often of “Abbie” since our fieldwork: breastfeeding and raising her children on not nearly enough to eat. She was anxious about the combined impact of the stresses she was carrying, trying to survive under pandemic but also raise her children, heal from domestic violence and PTSD, and ready herself to return to work.
“I’m not saying oh, we need a lot of money to be really really comfortable or that we don’t want to go back to work, but just, you know, a proper decent amount of money to help to be able to feed ourselves, and be nutritionally right and sound so that my brain is functioning when I’m looking for work. […] The money I have just about feeds my kids and a little bit for me.” — Abbie
4. Access, eligibility, and awareness issues: many that need help hadn’t received it
Social support from friends, family and community were critical for many, and more formal financial and food supports had also helped some. However, most of the people we spoke to had accessed no help, limited help, or insufficient support for their level of need.
Most were unaware of community/charity schemes available — and many who were aware did not access them. Stigma and a desire to ‘leave those services for people that need them most’ were strong barriers to use.
“I know there are food banks, but it’s not something I feel comfortable with.” — F, 35, single mum of 2, Manchester
Food banks had high awareness but low use due to stigma. Food boxes were a source of embarrassment and stigma though gratefully received; some raised concerns about the nutritional quality of food provided. School food vouchers made a big difference to some, but others found they didn’t work in the shops they could actually access under lockdown, or restricted purchases in ways that didn’t match basic needs.
“You can only use [the voucher] one powdered milk or cow’s milk. None of my kids drink cow’s milk.” — F, 46, single mum of 5, household with autoimmune issues requiring specialised foods, Northern Ireland
Many were unable to access Universal Credit, or were still going hungry with UC support. People with complex income seemed to be particularly vulnerable (e.g., zero-hours contracts, mixed employment/self-employment).
Supports like furlough, mortgage/rent holidays, and business support made a big difference to some — but many weren’t reached. Gaps in furlough support were pronounced for those not working full time.
“You know those food banks…I know a guy who runs them and so I asked but he said you have to be referred by a doctor or something like that. I said ‘I know someone who’ rather than saying it was actually for me… there is shame in it… and I put myself lower down in the pecking order than those with families.” — Michael
What next? If income disruption continues, and mitigating support does not, people already will face worsening challenges.
Most we spoke to were optimistic about or not thinking about the future, focused on making it through the next weeks or months.
However, many were in industries and positions that may experience further disruption or uncertainty — dog walking, cruise ship hospitality, hairdressing, teaching assistants, etc.
Many have taken on or increased debt under Covid-19 that will need repaying, but do not have certainty about income returning. Those who had small savings funds in March have now spent them. Personal reserves are low: many are feeling poorly physically and emotionally, and are likely more vulnerable to further strain. Younger people have lost opportunities and momentum — eating into savings meant to help move out of home, obtain degrees, start families, etc. And rising utility bills during the winter period will increase hardship for many.
We have more to share about the steps we took to conduct this work ethically, safely and robustly.
As a team who cares deeply about the safety and fair treatment of participants and research teams alike, conducting this work safely, ethically and robustly was critical for us.
Some of this has been shared already — including our participant rights-focused consent form, and our Participant Wellbeing Pack. Both are open source available for adaptation and use for whoever will benefit: please just let us know.
We’ll also be sharing our steps to team support for conducting work like this, focused on creating psychological safety, cross-team support, and reflexive practice. The need to evolve our practice is increasingly urgent, and we are eager to share what we know and improve it together.
Get in touch if you’d like to be notified when these are live.
