The Future in Empty Aisles
Last week, I caught a glimpse of what might be our future. One morning, I wandered into a cooperative, and the shelves that once overflowed were now barren. It was quite disheartening to see signs indicating that baked beans and canned tuna had become scarce. Following a cyberattack two weeks earlier, the supply chain was disrupted, leaving supermarkets grappling to recover. They want to serve customers, but their inventory looks more like a wasteland than a store.
As I studied the emptiness, a stranger next to me reached out for pastries using plastic tongs. “This feels like the aftermath of a bomb,” I mused. He smiled and agreed, snagging a croissant. Smart move, I thought. If this is what a simple cyberattack leads to, one can only imagine the chaos other events might bring. Croissants for breakfast seem optimistic.
Are you ready for the storm? I know I’m not. The state of the world feels precarious, and while many have made emergency plans, I haven’t gotten around to it yet.
Interestingly, the Swedish government addressed its citizens last year, stating that “we live in uncertain times,” suggesting they maintain a daily minimum of three liters of water. In my mind, that advice sounds pretty reasonable, though I might spin it to urge customers to keep their own emergency supplies from the Thames.
Sweden emphasizes stockpiling non-perishable foods. Think items that can be stored at room temperature—like dried meats, canned goods, and cheese. And if you discover a rogue Babybel cheese behind the fridge, congratulations—that’s your survival tool. They hold up better than you might think.
The Swedes have their reasons for preparing. Picture yourself pulling back the curtains and seeing Vladimir Putin glaring back at you—definitely makes a case for packing a prep bag.
In the UK, folks seem less concerned, but that doesn’t mean we’re carefree. Our guidance on emergency preparedness is a subtle nudge, coming across like a ministerial tweet, suggesting we should stock up on easy-to-eat meats, fruits, and vegetables.
Clearly, the need to get ready is becoming more urgent. Just today, wildfires in Los Angeles reminded us of how quickly the unexpected can strike. Popular Science Magazine advocates for everyone to prepare a little. From seasoned veterans to suburban parents trying to adapt their minivans for emergencies, everyone seems to be in on this.
But what goes into a prep bag? It varies. What’s critical to one person might not matter to another—perhaps this stems from cultural perspectives. I haven’t seen jerk chicken in any canned form yet, and I’m not even sure how to deal with that absence in dire times. A friend of mine jokes about declaring a state of emergency with flair—apocalyptic preparations seem to bring out the humor in him.
While water is essential, how many bottles of it can realistically fit in a bag? I mean, it’s not like they’re offering Saltfish and Ackee in a tin. And as far as comforting Caribbean dishes go, I can’t recall finding a curry goat tube at any store.
This gap highlights a need for the preparedness industry to step up and cater to our diverse preferences. Maybe there’s a market for beloved wartime staples like canned corned beef.
Days pass, and the troubled cooperative reports some improvements. Yet, those pockmarked shelves still greet customers on weekday mornings. One takeaway here is that this world is in flux, and reliable delivery systems are no longer a given. Every day solidifies the idea that the harsh realities depicted in Cormac McCarthy’s works could be just around the corner.
I glimpsed the future, and it feels bleak: sparse aisles, a handful of eerie croissants, and a sense that things are moving faster than we can keep up with. Be prepared for what’s coming.
