Those of us who care about food and where it comes from will miss

The words of Michael Pollan, “Those of us who care about food and where it comes from will miss both Obama and Michelle. Even though Obama failed to do many things he indicated he would do around food, Michelle Obama has done a lot to shine a light on the link between diet and health, which is really important,” carry the tone of both lament and reverence — the voice of a thinker who sees beyond politics into the deeper fabric of human well-being. In these lines, Pollan, the modern prophet of real food and ethical nourishment, speaks not merely of two leaders, but of a movement — the sacred connection between what we eat, how we live, and the future of our children.

In ancient times, to care about food was to care about life itself. The philosopher Plato declared that the health of the body reflects the order of the soul; the Chinese sages taught that the way of balance, the Tao, begins with harmony in diet. Yet in the modern age, humankind has drifted far from that natural wisdom. The fields have been replaced by factories, the table by the drive-through, the earth’s bounty by the products of industry. Against this tide rose voices like that of Michelle Obama, who, though not a philosopher in title, lived as one in practice — tending gardens, teaching children to eat with awareness, and reminding a nation that diet and health are not luxuries of the privileged, but the foundation of a just and enduring society.

Pollan’s words acknowledge a truth that rings through history: that leadership, even when incomplete, can awaken the sleeping conscience of a people. He admits that President Barack Obama did not fulfill all that was promised in the realm of food and agriculture — yet he honors the work of Michelle Obama, whose Let’s Move! campaign sought to combat the rising tide of childhood obesity by returning to the first principles of nourishment. In her hands, the humble garden became a symbol of renewal. The White House lawn, once a place of ceremony, became a place of planting, of soil, of roots — a reminder that all power, no matter how grand, must still bow to the earth.

There is a long lineage of such wisdom. The ancient Roman Cincinnatus, though a warrior and leader, was known to return to his plow after battle, teaching that greatness and humility are not opposites but companions. Michelle Obama’s hands in the soil spoke that same truth — that leadership begins with care, that true reform begins not in laws but in habits. By showing children how to grow their own food, she rekindled the memory of self-reliance, connection, and gratitude — the very qualities that once sustained humanity before abundance dulled our senses.

Pollan, who has spent his life urging people to “eat food, not too much, mostly plants,” sees in Michelle’s work the realization of that ancient ethos. For the link between diet and health is not a modern discovery — it is the wisdom of millennia, echoed in every culture that honored balance. When food becomes distant, both physically and spiritually, disease follows. But when food is respected — grown with love, shared with others, eaten with awareness — health returns, not only to the body, but to the spirit of the people. Thus, Michelle Obama’s mission was not merely about vegetables or calories; it was about restoring the sacred relationship between human beings and the earth that feeds them.

Yet Pollan’s tone is tinged with sorrow, for he knows how easily such movements fade. He speaks of missing the Obamas not out of sentiment, but from the fear that the light they kindled might dim in their absence. The struggle for food justice, for sustainability, for a return to wholesome living, is a fragile one. Like a tender plant, it must be tended daily — through education, community, and courage — or it will wither under the weight of greed and neglect. The ancients, too, knew this: that every generation must replant the seeds of wisdom anew, or the soil of civilization will grow barren.

So let this be the teaching: to care about food is to care about life. Do not think of your meals as mere fuel, nor your body as a machine. Remember that every bite binds you to the soil, to the farmer, to the rhythm of sun and rain. Follow Pollan’s guidance and Michelle Obama’s example — eat what is real, what is alive, what is grown with integrity. Teach your children not only what to eat, but how to listen to their food, to understand its story. Grow something — even a small plant — and watch how it changes the way you see the world.

For the health of the body is the mirror of the health of the planet, and the wisdom of the ancients whispers still: “As the earth nourishes us, so must we nourish the earth.” Let us then honor the spirit of those who sought to restore this balance — Pollan, who speaks with clarity; Michelle Obama, who acted with compassion — and remember that every meal is a moral act, every choice a vote for the kind of world we wish to leave behind. In the garden of life, may we never cease to plant seeds of awareness, gratitude, and care.