Last Updated on December 8, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff
As with most edible foods in our homes, there is an expiration date for action on hunger. This past year, with approval ratings at an all-time low and food insecurity on the city’s South and West sides at an all-time high, Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson failed to act on a plan to become the first major American city to open a municipally-owned grocery store.
It is a disappointment to say the least, especially when Americans are hungrier than ever to talk about food insecurity, a term used to characterize one’s inability to access essential foods. Look no further than the recent mayoral election in New York City, where Zohran Mamdani sweepingly won the vote while campaigning on — among many other topics — opening city-run grocery stores. It was a platform that brought new energy to the polls, as 57% of Americans favored Mamdani’s plan.
And why not? In a country as seemingly appetized as the United States, hunger is one of the greatest human issues. 100% of counties across the country face some sort of food insecurity. This ongoing hunger can stunt a child’s educational development, put them at higher risk for mental health issues growing up, and can even link them to future chronic diseases like diabetes. The first major American city to implement municipally-owned grocery stores should be, above any political opinion, a sign of hope.
Just over 700 miles west of New York, though, a sour taste is being left in the mouths of Chicagoans. Earlier this year, Johnson’s office shifted plans away from the grocery stores after failing to apply for a grant from the State of Illinois.
The solution, now, would be geared toward opening public markets. As opposed to stores, these markets would both provide essential nutritious foods, while also providing local farmers and food retailers with spaces to operate within. According to Deputy Mayor Kenya Merritt, the model would be “more impactful than just a public grocery store.” It’s a statement that some can struggle to rationalize, especially considering the initial grocery store announcement was characterized around “repairing past harms.” If something is broken, why should fixing it be so heavily reassessed?
The idea of what is “more impactful” is nuanced in a city where 20% of households face food insecurity, a rate that consistently exceeds the national average. Specifically, at the time of Johnson’s 2023 announcement, the U.S. Department of Agriculture estimated that residents in Chicago’s West Englewood and East Garfield Park neighborhoods respectively totaled 63.5% and 52% of residents living more than a half mile away from the nearest grocery store, qualifying them as “food deserts.”
That term isn’t unique in the United States, or Chicago. Grocery chains like A&P helped conceive food deserts in the late 20th century through what economists call the “waterbed effect.” This model allowed A&P to make preferential deals with suppliers to sell at the lowest price, hiking prices for local grocers in conjunction. Although A&P folded in 2015, they ushered in a new era of mass discounting, offered today by companies like Walmart. The result was more community-based grocers closing their doors, and the distance between communities and proper nutrition increased. After all, not every town was fortunate to have an A&P next door. Thus, from Memphis to Detroit to New Orleans, the term “food desert” became an unfortunate benchmark of a city’s lack of necessary resources.
Chicago’s chapter in the long history of American food deserts, however, is marked by disinvestment. Take, for example, the controversial exit of a Whole Foods Market in Chicago’s Englewood neighborhood. What was once a progressive momentum toward increasing food access promptly folded five years young, with little rationale other than the need for the company to position itself for “long-term success.” In tow, the aforementioned Walmart closed its location in Chatham during 2023, citing issues of profitability despite the company’s CEO previously pledging commitment to the city’s underserved neighborhoods. While it is no secret that the profit margins for grocery stores tend to be of the slimmest margin, there is a clear discord between corporations and their ability to operate in Chicago communities that need it most.
This is not to say grocery conglomerates are totally unreliable in the battle against food insecurity. In 2019, the Woodlawn neighborhood welcomed a new Jewel-Osco location, ending a 40-year full-service grocer drought in the community. Greater part of the funding for this effort, though, was through the Chicago Development Fund, a nonprofit specializing in new markets tax credit allocation.
Herein lies the role of policy for the city’s food insecurity battle: Chicagoans cannot fight it alone, especially in an era where government programs like the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) are constantly fighting for legitimacy. Where large grocers have failed, elected officials should be able to pick up for the disinvestments and poor policy decisions while also funding innovative ways to increase access to healthy food. It’s what connects the dots from New York City to Chicago — two cities where food insecurity and prices are constantly on the rise. Campaigning on this issue, as Mamdani did, truly defines “food for thought” when it comes to leadership.
Credit where it’s due, the Johnson administration does appear to keep their hand on the pulse of Chicago’s food insecurity issues. Recently, Johnson signed an executive order directing resources to local community organizations helping address hunger in light of the recent government shutdown. But what about those grocery stores-turned-markets? The future remains vague. While the locations of these markets will be concentrated on the South and West sides, definitive addresses are yet to be determined, as are the timelines for operation.
Just 122 miles northwest of Chicago, the city of Madison, Wisconsin is on the cusp of opening its first city-owned grocery store, the result of an agreement between city officials and Maurer’s Market. Dane County, where Madison is located, reported 9% of its population facing food insecurity in the same year that Maurer’s agreed to be part of the plan. While it pales in comparison to West Englewood’s rates — let alone the entire City of Chicago — it’s a cause for hope in a time where groceries are causing the most stress in U.S. adults today.
The “City of the Big Shoulders” is also one of the hungriest. The time for policy solutions is now.

