Entomophagy and the Politics of Food: Why Insects Discomfort the Urban Imagination

 

Entomophagy and the Politics of Food: Why Insects Discomfort the Urban Imagination

The idea of eating insects often provokes discomfort even before questions of taste or nutrition arise. At a recent edible-insects stall at the Science Gallery in Bengaluru, visitors oscillated between curiosity and disgust, revealing how deeply cultural norms shape what is considered “food”. Many assumed that entomophagy — the practice of eating insects — was foreign, unaware that it has long been part of India’s own food cultures, particularly in the Northeast and tribal regions.

Insects in India’s Food Traditions

Across Nagaland, Arunachal Pradesh, Manipur and parts of central India, insects such as crickets, silkworms, termites and grasshoppers are consumed seasonally and sold in local markets. These practices are embedded in ecological knowledge, livelihood systems and cultural memory. Yet urbanisation and the dominance of “modern” food narratives have rendered such traditions invisible or labelled them as primitive.

This reflects a broader sociological pattern: food is not merely nutrition; it is a marker of identity, class and aspiration. Urban middle-class diets increasingly valorise global cuisines while marginalising indigenous ones, creating a hierarchy of edibility.

Sustainability and Nutrition

From an environmental perspective, edible insects offer compelling advantages:

• High protein and micronutrient content

• Around 80% edible body mass (compared to ~55% for poultry)

• Low land, water and feed requirements

• Lower greenhouse gas emissions than conventional livestock

In a world facing climate change, resource scarcity and protein insecurity, insects are often projected as a sustainable alternative within future food systems.

Cultural Barriers and Urban Disconnect

Despite these benefits, acceptance remains limited. In urban contexts, insect consumption is framed as “tribal” or “rural”, distancing it from aspirational modern life. This reveals how development discourse shapes taste: progress is associated with certain foods, while others are stigmatised regardless of their ecological logic.

The discomfort is not biological but social — produced by norms of cleanliness, class and cultural capital. The same society that celebrates sushi or blue cheese may recoil at crickets, highlighting the constructed nature of “disgust”.

Ethics, Knowledge and Recognition

The growing interest in edible insects also raises ethical questions:

• Whose knowledge is being commercialised?

• Are indigenous communities being acknowledged and benefited?

• Will industrial scaling respect biodiversity and local food sovereignty?

As researchers such as those at ATREE’s Insect Biosystematics and Conservation Laboratory suggest, developing sustainable rearing systems can reduce ecological pressure and ensure food safety, but cultural sensitivity and equitable credit are equally important.

Way Forward: Normalisation through Exposure

Public platforms such as food festivals and science exhibitions create low-pressure spaces for experimentation. Offering insects in processed forms (cookies, flavoured snacks) reduces psychological barriers and allows taste to challenge prejudice. Over time, familiarity can reshape norms, just as tomatoes or potatoes once moved from being “foreign” to staples in Indian kitchens.

Conclusion

Entomophagy in India is not a futuristic import but a marginalised heritage. Its rejection in urban spaces reflects deeper anxieties about class, modernity and cultural hierarchy. Reimagining insects as food therefore requires not only technological innovation but also social re-education — recognising indigenous knowledge, questioning food prejudices, and aligning sustainability with cultural inclusion. In this sense, the debate on edible insects becomes a window into how societies define progress, purity and the politics of everyday consumption.