Stand Tries: Freeganism

Did you know that 1/3 of the eggs in your fridge were taken from a chicken without its consent and they splice carrots with baby orang-utans to make them more orange! They do! It’s true… probably.

Freegans say that the global capitalist system is wrong and they want out. They avoid contributing to capitalist production by skipping (with grocery store bins not ropes), squatting (with empty houses, not with a jar and an overly curious man) and gathering (nuts and berries not the Dutch alternative rock band).

At first glance, freegans seem like the sort of smelly extreme leftists who oppose nuclear energy and refuse to eat anything that casts a shadow. (If you get the Simpsons reference without googling, comment and you’ll win a prize.) But it’s becoming more and more mainstream. A lot of sensible people are advocating it as a critique of a wasteful global food system which leaves a billion humans in food poverty and contributes massively to global warming through meat production and inorganic fertilisers (you can read more about it on Oxfam’s website.)

So, buoyed by the brief and intense sense of middle-class moral indignation, I decided to spend 4 days as a freegan. I could not buy food or drink or consume food or drink which I previously bought or consume food or drink which I would pay for at a later date.

Day 1
It’s cold and wet and I’m not hoking through bins in the rain. I have some dignity. Freeganism can start tomorrow.

Day 1 (take 2)
Having donned a raincoat and picked up my bag for life, I headed shopping. Unfortunately it turns out that most retailers in St Andrews lock up their bins. You won’t get anything from Tesco, Aldi, Sainsbury’s or Morrisons. Apparently this is a big problem for freegans because supermarkets are worried that they’ll be sued by dumpster divers who get ill from out-of-date food.

But finally I found the bin of plenty. The top few layer consisted of about 10 bags of rolls: unmouldy and uncontaminated by the bin. Calorific but not exactly an exciting diet for the next 72 hours. Motivated by the prospects of stale bread 3 times a day, I rolled up my sleeve and took a deep plunge.

The thrill is hard to describe now that I’m no longer armpit deep in bin juice but you know your life means something when you first grasp a tin from within the murky abyss. A wee bit more hoking unearthed:
4x tins of vegetable broth
3x bags of rolls
1x packet of crumpets
8x potatoes
4x cheese sticks and pickle dips (I know, it’s a ludicrous product, no wonder no-one bought it…)

Day 2

3 bin sourced meals later and I’m still alive! Toasted crumpets for breakfast, cheese and pickle toasties for lunch, vegetable broth with a thick and crusty roll for tea. I’m eating better than when my food comes from non-bin locations.

Day 3

A major problem has arisen. The bin has failed to supply my regular caffeine intake and dissertation research is taking a serious hit. Scaffing my housemates second-hand teabags is simply insufficient. Also, he’s getting a little confused by the frequent unsolicited offers of tea… pro-plus is the answer… as always.

Day 4

Having exhausted my enthusiasm for cheese toasties and soup, I decided to pursue a more varied diet and partake in freeganism’s other food source: foraging. Even in winter, St Andrews’ location beside the sea provides a huge supply of tasty seaweed. Armed with a brief google of “edible British seaweeds”, a pair of scissors and my bag for life I headed to Castle Sands to harvest the fruits of the sea.

If you want to give kelp harvesting a try, Oarweed (common Kelp) is very common (surprisingly) and the one that looks and feels like big slimy brown strips of plastics. Also, be sure to harvest sustainably by cutting individual strands rather than ripping out the whole algae from the rock. Also, check out when high tide is. I reached Castle Sands and the delectable oarweed was being thrust hither and thither by a very cold and wet looking North Sea.

Dejected and hungry, I returned home.

At home, I found something wonderful. There was a friend with a bag full of goodies which she had been about to throw out: a bag full of dodgy olives and funny tomatoey things and tasty old cheese. Nomnomnom. A real life St Andrews miracle.

So what have we all learned from this experience?

1. Personal Human Interest learnings: I survived! There’s nothing wrong with food from a bin. Stop being such a prissy. If it’s sealed, it’s as hygienic as anything else you buy and much more hygienic than restaurant food prepared by someone-else’s grubby hands.

2. Ranty moralistic learnings: 4 days of bin food was just a taste of how wasteful our food system really is. And a taste of the injustice of waste in a food system which massively contributes to global warming and condemns over a billion people to food poverty.

3. Stompingly proactive but broadly unfeasible learnings: Supermarkets locking their bins is a piss-take. Students should engage with Tesco, Sainsbury’s Morrison’s and Aldi to sort it out.

But mainly, give it a go yourself. It’s pretty fun.