One of the many things that the past year of political turmoil on both sides of the Atlantic has revealed, is that governments have a questionable relationship with food. As the UK inches towards the completion of Brexit negotiations, and the Trump administration in the US unleashes its budget proposal, a strange kind of disconnect has become apparent: those negotiating their nations’ futures seem not to recognise that a chunk of its security and prosperity depends on how well they manage its food.

In the UK that trend became clear well before Brexit struck, when during the negotiations many pointed out a lack of meaningful discussion about what the split would actually mean for farmers. It didn’t matter enough to be a priority. Until suddenly it did--when we realised we’d have to plug the hole left behind by the European migrants that currently make up roughly 20% of the UK’s agricultural workforce, and who would exit if we ultimately back away from free movement.

Equally, while politicians and farmers alike beckoned an overhaul of the EU’s inefficient and despised common agricultural policy (CAP) with Brexit, no one yet has outlined exactly how and if that policy will be replaced. It’s true that CAP is deeply flawed: it awards subsidies based on land area, meaning that rich landowners who don’t actually produce any food take a large share. And yet, CAP still provides 55% of farmers’ incomes, which many do need to stay afloat.

So farmers are now understandably scared about their future prospects. That seems like one of the more powerful indictments of a government that inspires so little trust in its people, that farmers--whose willingness to stick around and till the soil is what ensures the food security of a nation--are now wondering whether they’re in the right profession at all.

The UK’s departure is threatening to leave an agricultural dent beyond its borders, too. This week the European Commission raised the possibility of filling the funding deficit caused by the UK’s exit by dramatically cutting spending on European agriculture--which would include subsidies for farmers. This comes as suicide hotlines in Europe are recording an increase in the number of calls from farmers.

Over in the United States, Trump’s recent proposal for a $38 billion cut to agriculture over 10 years, is leaving farmers to grapple with what that means: in practice, it would throw agricultural subsidies and farm insurance into disarray.

That accompanies a whole suite of other cuts to different programs in the US that are precisely designed to safeguard farmers and encourage them to protect the environment. And yet in a speech Trump recently gave to an audience of Iowa farmers, he characteristically rebranded his actions by promising to “rebuild rural America” so that the nation’s farmers can “win, win, win on the world stage.”

This is set against a background of rising climate uncertainty for US farmers, who face decades ahead where abundant risks will likely put them in greater need of federal support, not less.

Trump’s flagrant cuts would go beyond field farming to fisheries and aquaculture, too. In the administration’s efforts to shift financial responsibilities from the federal to the state, the budget would also eradicate the $64 million in federal money provided to the Sea Grant program of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. This vital program provides technical assistance and marine research to support coastal habitats, fisheries, and aquaculture.

In 2015 alone Sea Grant turned out an estimated 854% return on federal investment--which includes the benefits from coastal protections that limit the impact of major storms. Another fleet of cuts to the U.S. National Fisheries Marine Service would take away three quarters of the funding currently used to do fish stock assessments, manage fisheries, and reduce bycatch in the US. Inevitably, this would sideline the sustainability of its fisheries.

A Pacific white shrimp grown at aquaculture farm in Vero Beach, Florida. Aquaculture in the US will be undermined under the proposed 2018 budget, which would see the eradication of fisheries support programs like Sea Grant. Photograph: Colin Braley/REUTERS

And in a move that’s perhaps less unexpected--bearing in mind Trump’s battle cry for ‘America First’--the budget also delivers a 68% cut to the food security bureau of the US Agency for International Development (USAID). A large part of their job is to put in place farming and food security programs around the world that protect people from famine’s grip--and save millions of lives a year. It’s not a push to say that under the new budget, millions would likely perish.

It’s unlikely that Trump’s proposal will be approved in its entirety by Congress later this year. But that’s hardly the point: what matters is that it’s indicative of an insidious ignorance that’s seeping into the ranks of the powerful. There’s a belief that food systems can be toyed with and undercut, treated as little more than a bargaining chip. But with what consequences for the rest of us and our food security?

The ones making these catastrophic decisions seem not to have pondered that. I’m curious about how they see agriculture. As some intangible and inconsequential artefact of political maneuvering? A quaint vestige from times gone by, when naughty children ran recklessly through fields of wheat?

In reality, our food system can’t come away unscathed from the impact of ignorant, elitist, and shortsighted politics. Food nourishes people when it’s managed properly, and starves them when it’s not. Agriculture has the power to shape landscapes and ecosystems for the better, or simply grind them into dust. The sweeping political disregard shown over the last year for these concerns suggests that perhaps the ones in charge haven’t yet grasped those risks.