Fishing for Answers
Orlena Yee, On Purpose Associate in the April 2017 cohort and currently working at Community Links, writes about the dilemma of eating (or not eating) fish and her efforts to achieve a more sustainable lifestyle.
I love fish. If a choice had to be made between fish or meat for the rest of my life, fish would win, hands down. I could never tire of the variety of species and textures, ways of cooking, and ways of eating fish. Yet as I have become more aware of the impact of my consumption practices, I have been grappling with questions of how to consume fish sustainably and responsibly, and indeed, whether to consume fish at all.
This question came to the fore recently as I took part in the On Purpose Feastival, a series of dinners across London aiming to explore different ways of eating responsibly. I had a fantastic meal of fish and chips at Trawler Trash, a sustainable fish restaurant that uses lesser known seasonal British fish. Rather than the more usual cod or haddock, we had hake; flaky and slightly moist with a very slight hint of sweetness and a perfect foil for the crispy salty batter that encased it. Was it more tasty because we were told the fish was sustainably sourced? Or because the exuberant chef took a bit of time out during a busy Friday evening service to tell us about the fish he uses and the way he likes to cook? Or was it the conversation with the lovely people with whom I shared the meal?
The information available on sustainable fish consumption is, in itself, a sea of complicated and bewildering facts and figures that are as fluid as fish stocks, fishing practices and the availability of new data themselves. Overall, my understanding is that there is fundamental mismatch between increasing global fish consumption and declining global fish stocks. The acclaimed health benefits to humans from increased fish consumption appears to be an entirely separate domain from the health of the fish we are eating. I don’t want to exacerbate the problem, and there are many pathways to more sustainable fish consumption available to me, but they can also raise additional questions. Is the fish buying guide I have current? Can I trust my fishmonger? Does that sustainable fish label give me confidence? Is wild or farmed better for that particular species, Atlantic or Pacific, line or trawler caught?
The state of confusion that confronted me each time I faced the fish counter actually made me visit fish counters less. In a way, perhaps this deluge of information had achieved its purpose. I went from eating fish twice or three times a week to once every week or two. However, buying less fish also raised some additional questions as much of the fish I previously bought was all of the discounted pieces left at the end of the day that would most likely have been thrown out if it was not sold. As I am also committed to actively reducing food waste (I am a regular user of Olio, a food sharing app), I find myself asking whether or not it is more responsible to buy unsustainably produced fish that is likely to be thrown out if it is not purchased or not to buy it at all.
I also find myself contemplating wider but related issues such as the role of evidence, science and data and how notions of ‘truth’ can change just as fish stocks can change over time. I consider how living more sustainably is not just about using resources more efficiently, but about moving out of my comfort zone to build relationships with those from whom I buy my food, whether it is the person at the vegetable stall at the farmers market or the person at the till at Tesco. I also wonder about sustainable food labels which strike me as a shortcut for the consumer in me that has limited time and income but which may come as an expense to smaller sustainable food producers who do not have the resources to pay the membership fees or do the administrative work required to be able to wear these labels. All in all, it makes me think about the complicated ways in which things work and how I’d like to explore ways of engaging with and embracing complexity rather than ignoring it.
For me, it is all about balancing the pleasures of food with the potential imbalances caused by the way in which food is produced and consumed. Though food is very much my central focal point, it is also about looking beyond food and at my total consumption practice. I don’t own a car and I cycle and walk everywhere, I wear patched up jeans that I have had for over 20 years, but I do make several transatlantic flights a year to see my beautiful niece and nephew, to whom I never thought I could be so attached. Is striving to achieve some sort of balance between my more sustainable and less sustainable consumption behaviours sufficient for me to feel that I am living responsibly? I fear it is not quite enough, but it is a way for me avoid judging myself too harshly on those special occasions when I know I am buying fish that weighs on my conscience; shrimp for tacos at my birthday BBQ, for example. It is also a way for me to remind myself that eating fish sustainably, and indeed, living more sustainably, is not just about making right or wrong decisions.
