On World Food Day: What Kind of Technology Can Truly Ensure Food Security?

Foodthink Says
16 October marks the 44th World Food Day. The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO) has set this year’s global theme as: “Food security for all, building a better life together, creating a shared future.”
Genetically modified (GM) technology and its proponents and promoters have long packaged it as the best solution for ensuring food security. However, Empire of Seeds, a new book on the history of Monsanto authored by an American environmental historian, uses meticulous facts and data to forcefully debunk the myth of Monsanto’s GM technology.
In response to this work, several Chinese scholars and practitioners have engaged in discussion: how should ordinary people understand GM technology? How are these technologies in food and agriculture shaping our food systems? What kind of technology can truly ensure food security? And what can we, as ordinary consumers, do?

I. The Complexity of GM Technology Is Being Overlooked

What makes this case particularly interesting is that it challenges GM advocates and opponents simultaneously. Those in favour of GM technology would blame inadequate government oversight—the patent rights of the GM variety had been infringed—but in reality, since the origin of this hybrid cannot be traced, no one can be held accountable. For opponents of GM technology, there is an equally significant challenge: what kinds of seeds do farmers actually need, and who should meet their practical needs? For example, can our public breeding system fulfil this role?
II. Will the General Public Still Be Beneficiaries of Future Technological Progress?
For example, in the 1960s the Indian government agreed to embrace the Green Revolution and introduce high-yielding crop varieties, hoping that technology would boost output. At the time, many had great expectations of the Green Revolution, including narrowing the gap between rich and poor. But history proved the exact opposite. These high-yielding varieties were more expensive than local traditional varieties, and growing them required large quantities of water and reliable irrigation. Yet rural India’s infrastructure was generally poor, and in practice these high-yielding varieties not only failed to help the poorest farmers but actually deepened poverty in certain areas.
So I believe we should not take a generalised, abstract stance for or against science and technology; we need to examine what a specific technology actually delivers under the specific social conditions of the moment.
Take Monsanto, for instance. The book reveals numerous problems with the technology itself—problems that do not even operate at the level of science. Whether it was herbicides or insecticides, their researchers simply found in an experiment that a product had a weeding or pest-killing effect, and that finding became a trade secret, a patent, a formula for profit. But why it worked, what the underlying mechanism was—on that they were indifferent, and they did not encourage scientific discussion either. So their contribution to science was limited.
III. How Can Breeding Technology Better Help Farmers?
So could we now establish a support mechanism that enables farmers to reclaim those skills and this knowledge? The Philippine case shows that farmers not only have the potential to master them but, once they do, can select and breed the varieties that suit their own needs.
Building this kind of social support mechanism cannot rely solely on civil-society organisations, because NGOs have limited funding and staff and can only conduct small-scale demonstrations. Ultimately, we probably need to return to the public breeding system. Our country once built a powerful agricultural research and extension system, but today we need to reflect on how these systems can function effectively and how they can truly understand what farmers need.
Take early Mexico’s Green Revolution, for example: even within the Rockefeller Foundation, there were disagreements about seed-extension strategy. The project officers at the time fell into two distinct disciplinary camps. Those with a scientific research background wanted to transplant American high-yielding varieties directly and roll them out across Mexico. Those with a social science background insisted that the varieties most needed by local farmers should be the priority, and therefore argued for improving Mexico’s own landraces to suit local conditions.
These represent two fundamentally different development paths. Looking back on that history, we find that the social-science approach ultimately lost out. People concluded it was a waste of time to keep refining local varieties, and as a result many of Mexico’s corn landraces were displaced. In the end, it was Mexico’s large farms that benefited, not its countless smallholders.
Beyond the vertical process of transferring technology to the public or to farming communities, the breeding industry also has a horizontal dimension. When breeders work on variety improvement, a basic precondition is that diversity in seed resources must be safeguarded. The most efficient way to reduce uncertainty and complexity in the breeding process is to conduct large-scale pre-breeding and screening from extensive germplasm resources.
Today, the competitive pressure among seed companies and agribusinesses is immense, and market concentration keeps rising. Because of this rivalry, information between individual laboratories and companies is never shared—breeding materials are treated as trade secrets—and as a result, collaboration between them is often simply impossible.
Consider Argentina’s GDM Seed Group, one of the world’s largest soybean biological breeding companies, with 700 research stations across fifteen countries. It holds extraordinarily rich germplasm resources and has carried out extensive selection work, amassing a formidable advantage. For latecomers—countries or companies entering the field later—such concentration of seed resources creates enormous pressure. In practice, many biological breeding companies simply buy germplasm from firms like GDM and then develop their own GM research around it.
But who actually preserved all those germplasm resources? It was farmers. In our work we have a principle: “keeping seeds with the people.” Why do we keep advocating that farmers should preserve and protect whatever seed resources they still hold? Because only if they are preserved first can we later explore the potential of these landraces—all of which lays the groundwork for pre-breeding and for meeting diverse social needs.
So bringing farmers into the process—including bringing us, the consumers, into it as well—is vitally important. As consumers, we can channel our preferences—for example, that we would like less-sweet fruit—back to breeders, who can then access that information and adjust their breeding objectives to meet societal needs.

IV. Do Consumers Really Know What They Want to Eat?

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