Since the pandemic began, talk of all things food has gained prominence in public and private. In fact, it has garnered a level of attention perhaps only rivalled by the stellar place toilet paper took  in the collective imagination.

At the height of the quarantine, a rushed walk through supermarket aisles in large Asian cities showed the extent to which food security strategies have been successful. In countries like Singapore and South Korea, shelves remained fairly well stocked, despite relying on food imports for 90 per cent and 75 per cent of their food respectively.

These countries have been aware of their vulnerability to shocks to food supplies and have planned accordingly. Singapore has stockpiled, diversified imported sources, encouraged local production, and grown overseas for decades.

In 2019, it launched its 30­30 goal, which aims at producing 30 per cent of its nutritional needs locally by 2030, and in early 2020, it launched an acceleration fund to further boost urban agriculture.

However, this is not the story of the whole region, and things could not be more different in the Pacific Island countries and territories, who face concerns over basic food supplies. Years of cheap imports of low nutritional value have been linked by some to a rise in cardiovascular diseases, and food production has already been affected by climate change.

In this hyperconnected world, how could national food security strategies improve? Changes to prepare for weather disruptions in overseas farmers’ ability to grow crops, or to solve logistical issues abroad that delay the delivery of agricultural inputs could be invaluable.

Food importers cannot force food trade flows or stop food protectionism abroad, but shortening and tightening existing supply chains is possible, including establishing new ones in urban areas,  and extending social protection to ensure food is readily and affordably available to those who need it.

To strengthen urban food systems, there are great hopes for initiatives that are more sustainable, climate­resilient, healthy, and scalable. A closer look to fresh produce figures reveals the potential  of highly sophisticated initiatives such as vertical farming.

In land­starved Singapore, close to 14 per cent of leafy greens have been grown in 77 urban farms, including 25 highly mechanised vertical farms and two rooftop gardens.

In Japan, a single farm in Kyoto has been growing 30,000 heads of lettuce daily, and in Fukushima, a vertical farm in an abandoned semiconductor factory can produce up to 10,000 heads of lettuce per day, amounting to 100 times the productivity – measured per 0.1 square metres of land – of traditional farming methods.

Vertical farms are also quickly taking hold in South Korea, where they have been established even in metro train stations in Seoul. Taiwan is now housing the largest indoor plant production facility in the region, and this technology is quickly expanding in Hong Kong, another land­ constrained city that imports almost all of its fresh food.

The main drivers for vertical farms include rising demands for healthier food, the need to reduce agriculture’s environmental impact, and limited availability of arable land, but disruptions to food  supply chains due to the global health emergency and climate change have heightened interest for these innovations too.