When the Strait of Hormuz narrowed, the cost of keeping the world fed suddenly climbed. The UN has warned that millions more people will face hunger in the coming months if the Middle East conflict persists, and the reason is ruthlessly simple: the price of energy and fertilizer, both funneled through that single stretch of water, has risen sharply. Fertilizer, much of it produced in the Gulf states, has soared in cost. Food prices will follow—just as they did after Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, when two major exporters of food and fertilizer vanished from global markets.

This crisis reveals something uncomfortable: the world's food system is built on fragile geography. Countries everywhere remain vulnerable to shocks concentrated in a handful of regions. But it also offers a moment to rebuild that system so it bends instead of breaks.

The transition starts with ammonia. Nitrogen-based fertilizers depend on ammonia, and most ammonia today is made from fossil fuels. The first green ammonia plants—using renewable energy instead—are now being constructed in sunny places like Chile, Morocco, and Australia. This shift is expensive, but as renewable costs fall and gas prices swing wildly, it becomes not just virtuous but economical. The real test will be whether governments sustain their commitment once the Strait of Hormuz opens again and the pressure eases.

Storage offers another lever. Sweden, China, and India already take a longer-term approach to food stocks, keeping supplies for months rather than days. Most countries assume global supply chains will remain smooth and hold only weeks of inventory. Rethinking that calculus—stockpiling not just grains but also fertilizer and pesticides—would align with the national security ambitions now emerging across Europe and beyond.

Then there is the plate itself. Animal farming demands enormous quantities of fertilizer to grow animal feed. Plant proteins like beans, lentils, and peas need far less; some even create their own nitrogen through biological fixation in their roots. A diet shift toward plant proteins would improve nutrition and slash carbon emissions while strengthening food security almost immediately.

The land question matters too. Biofuels—ethanol and bio-diesel—occupy an area at least the size of Italy, yet provide remarkably little fuel: in the UK, biofuels power less than 7 percent of transport needs. Electric vehicles powered by solar and wind farms would use land far more efficiently, releasing tens of millions of hectares globally for food production, rewilding, and carbon storage.

Building resilience takes time. Previous price spikes in 2007, 2010, and 2022 failed to spark lasting change. Diets shift slowly. Energy systems take decades to rewire. Political will fractures. None of it is simple.

Yet the alternative is to remain perpetually exposed. Climate change and geopolitical tension will keep disrupting supply chains. The current crisis is not merely another warning about fragility—it is an opportunity to accelerate the transition to a food system that does not depend on any single strait, any single region, any single vulnerability. The question now is whether the world will seize it.