The food system is a dynamic meshwork consisting of many subsystems, each exhibiting its own complexity. Those who claim to be food system experts often lack the skills to comprehend such complexity, let alone effectively deal with it. To be blunt, a lot of self-proclaimed experts should not even be allowed near any food system, as their naive interventions could lead to widespread famine. So, what defines complex systems, and why are they so perilous?
First published on 27/11/2023
Author: Frédéric Leroy (Vrije Universiteit Brussel, Belgium)
What are complex systems?
A complex system is a large and self-organizing assembly of interconnected components, of which the interactions produce emergent properties and behaviours that cannot be readily predicted from the components in isolation. This may sound abstract, but farmers who are familiar enough with the intricacies of soil biology will immediately grasp what this is about. The same is valid for health practitioners with a sufficiently holistic understanding of the complicated relationship between human diets and metabolism. In contrast, those with a nutrient-centric tunnel vision on either soil fertility or human health may struggle with the concept (or may be too obstinate to even consider it).
The most important insight into complex systems revolves around the fact that reductionist science wields no dominion over them; in fact, it is liable to sow chaos. In general, the architecture of complex systems is characterized by myriad non-linear relationships and feedback loops, making it challenging to anticipate the effects of even minor disturbances. Interference with a single component can set off ripple effects throughout the entire system, causing disproportionately large effects elsewhere.
Fortunately, complex systems usually possess a certain degree of robustness. They are fluid enough to absorb shocks and adapt to changes in their environment or internal conditions. This adaptability stems from feedback mechanisms that allow for behavioural adjustment in response to external or internal change. There is a limit to such resilience, however, and not all systems are equally able to deal with disturbances. And sometimes too much is just too much.
A warning against the overengineering of systems
In his witty and thoughtful book ‘Systemantics: How Systems Work and Especially How They Fail’, first published in 1979 and reissued as ‘The Systems Bible’ in 2002, John Gall has cautioned against the overengineering of complex systems. Inevitably, he says, this will give rise to all sorts of unintended consequences. Attempts to 'fix' one part of a system in view of a certain desired outcome will create new problems elsewhere. Moreover, as systems become more complicated, the likelihood of systemic failure increases. As Gall puts it: ‘failure to function as expected is to be expected […] It is a perfectly general feature of Systems not to do what we expected them to do.’
In other words, one needs to ‘tread softly’ when dealing with any system component, as not to disturb other components that are actually working. For instance, getting rid of a certain component will likely trigger several self-corrective responses that may then cause the entire system to reverberate in a compensatory attempt to make up for the sudden loss. It is only when the damage becomes obvious that the unsuspected vital functioning of the removed component will also become clear.
The most dire scenario unfolds when system engineers decide to craft a large system from scratch and enforce it upon society. While functional systems are known to emerge through the gradual evolution of simpler predecessors, attempting a
de novo design is doomed to failure. Utopian crusaders consistently fail to grasp this fundamental limitation. In a food system context, this is exemplified by the zealous proponents of a
farmless future founded on
precision fermentation,
food-as-software, and so-called '
alternative proteins'. The same criticism applies to those championing a vegan food system that would necessitate the 'unplugging' of livestock agriculture, or even any plan to substantially limit livestock (for instance,
halving it by 2040).
With respect to the future of livestock in the food system, the real question then becomes: at which threshold of reduction can we attain sufficient confidence that a decreased level of animal production will not give rise to trade-offs jeopardizing human prosperity, or even ecosystem health?
Technocracy and the 'age of faith in systems'
We live in an age of faith in systems, Gall laments. ‘Whatever the problem may be, the answer lies in setting up some system to deal with it. There seems to be no hint of awareness that there could be a pitfall in all this; that a system is not simply a straightforward set of plans that we, the masters, make’. Regardless, the 'masters' remain undeterred, continuing to intervene in existing systems or devise new ones. The issue probably persists due to the misguided perception of systems as tools for organizing, manipulating, and, consequently, asserting control over reality.
Any mention of a Great Transformation or Great Reset, such as those put forth by the World Economic Forum, or its dietary counterpart, the EAT-Lancet Commission's Great Food Transformation, should trigger alarm bells. At all times, we need to beware of the various technocrats involved in system change, because their actions will affect all of us, and in the worst case seriously harm us.
Gall refers to the various foot soldiers of technocracy as the expert (‘knows all the facts except how the System fits into the larger scheme of things’), efficiency expert (‘thinks s/he knows what a given System is, or what it should be doing, and who therefore feels s/he is in a position to pass judgment on how well the System is doing it. At best a nuisance, at worst a menace, on certain rare occasions a godsend’), specialist (‘never makes small mistakes while moving toward the grand fallacy’), and systems-person (‘wants you to really believe or (worse) really participate in their System’).
How, then, to deal with complex systems?
There is no denying that the current food system must undergo evolution if it is to become more sustainable and healthy on the long term. We all must contribute to that transition. However, instead of relying on a top-down Great Transformation that would be incompatible with the sophisticated setup of a complex system, the emphasis should be on extensive bottom-up experimentation, cautious tinkering, and incremental adjustments using the best of our technologies, knowledge, and skills. Such modifications can be transformative without risking total collapse.
That said, too many system experts are still blinded by the target of 'efficiency'. When the purpose is to improve efficiency, one should first decide the function of the system. This is complicated by the fact that large systems usually have multiple functions, which are not apparent on casual inspection. It takes hands-on experience and practical wisdom to be able to do so, traits that are notoriously absent in many of the ivory-tower experts that look at reality as if it were a spreadsheet or computer model.
So I ask you: what are the true functions of a food system? There is no easy answer.
All in all, and despite of all the above, the mission for skilled and well-intentioned system engineers is rather straightforward: attempts to improve a complex system should increase resilience, not diminish it. Gall's advice is to ‘always act so as to increase your options’. We need 'more of the better'. This is not a new paradigm as such, but it certainly remains an undervalued one.
