Food policy across much of the world is changing. But not in Britain. That may be a costly mistake as the prices of essentials rise because of the climate emergency, geopolitical tensions and the fragility of just-in-time supply chains. Many capitals are now reviving their strategic food reserves. European nations such as Sweden, Finland, Norway and Germany are rebuilding stocks dismantled after the cold war. Climate shocks have led to Egypt and Bangladesh boosting similar programmes. Countries such as Brazil and Indonesia – sensitive to the food needs of their vast populations – are also expanding their reserves.

The UK, by contrast, has no substantial public food reserves. Its strategy rests almost entirely on global markets and private intentions – an approach shaped by decades of liberalised trade. Even in the event of war, the official advice focuses on households stockpiling essentials. In Britain’s view, food security is about prices, not scarcity of supply.

Basic foodstuffs don’t respond to market mechanisms in the way expected. Demand doesn’t drop suddenly when prices rise, as people still need to buy them to live. The planting, growing and harvesting of crops don’t adjust rapidly to price changes. Global grain markets are dominated by a few exporting regions such as the Black Sea, disruption to which has a huge effect on prices. Big players hold sway over many agricultural products, and speculative activity amplifies swings in prices.

The economist Isabella Weber’s work argues that public buffer stocks can act as shock absorbers – smoothing prices and ensuring physical supply. Critics of such a strategy argue that this is not needed as global food prices have dropped to their lowest level since January 2025. But this is not the same thing as food becoming “cheap” or “stable”. In fact, prices are roughly a quarter above pre-pandemic levels. In the UK, food prices are rising faster than the headline inflation rate – in part driven by key inputs such as cereals undergoing price spikes linked to Russia’s war on Ukraine.

Countries without buffers can quickly become price takers – opening the door to inflationary pressures. Food reserves make sense in this context. Stocks can be accumulated when prices are low – and released when inflation spikes or supply is restricted, to ensure that bills don’t zoom upwards. Losses incurred by buffers in periods of calm should be understood as the price of resilience, much like flood defences.

China’s grain policy from 2008 to 2016 is often cited as a warning against food reserves. But China used stocks as open-ended price support, allowing corn inventories to balloon and deteriorate until much became unfit for food use. India faced the same shocks, but largely avoided this trap by setting limits on stockpiles and routinely moving grain through the system. Delhi succeeded where Beijing stumbled because it designed buffers to work like insurance, not a price support mechanism.

Britain is a post-industrial economy. But it would be wrong to think that it is insulated from volatile commodities in a way that bigger developing countries are not. London’s thinking needs to move on from the Washington consensus, as evidence mounts of the need for change. The UK must realise that resilience is not a rejection of markets but an acceptance of their limits. Other European nations have done so. Strategic food reserves are returning because we are in a world that no longer behaves as economic textbooks once assumed.