Most Americans eat bananas and never think about why such and exotic fruit is so relatively cheap. Bananas are cheaper in Wisconsin than apples, for example. The author picks apart the long, dark story of monopoly and violence that will make you look differently no only at that cheap sweet fruit but at the assumptions of the “green revolution.”

Banana Capital Stories, Science, and Poison at the Equator by Ben Brisbois is a nonfiction book that delves into the complex and often hidden history of the banana industry in Latin America. It intertwines multiple narratives, including stories of the people affected by the banana trade, the scientific and industrial developments surrounding banana cultivation, and the environmental and social impacts of this global industry.

The book explores the economic dominance of multinational companies, the exploitation of laborers, and the toxic agricultural practices that have historically been used in banana plantations. Through these stories, it highlights the broader implications of colonialism, corporate power, and environmental degradation in the equatorial regions, especially in countries like Ecuador, where bananas play a central role in the economy.

Brisbois also examines the relationship between scientific advancements and their ethical consequences, particularly focusing on the use of pesticides and chemicals that have poisoned both workers and ecosystems. Ultimately, the book brings attention to the ways in which the banana industry has shaped—and continues to shape—lives, landscapes, and global markets, all while revealing the often-overlooked human cost of a fruit that is so widely consumed.

It was a helpful book. Thanks to Netgalley and University of Regina Press for an advance copy for my honest review.

I went into Banana Republic by Ben Brisbois expecting an interesting take on science and the environment, but I wasn’t prepared for just how much I’d learn. This book introduced me to the history of South America in a way I’d never explored before. I had no idea how damaging banana cultivation was—not just to the environment, but to the farmers who are trapped in cycles of exploitation.

What really intrigued me, though, was Brisbois’s exploration of the deep links between capitalism and racism within this space. The book highlights how colonial legacies still shape global trade and how multinational corporations prioritise profit over people, particularly in the Global South. It’s uncomfortable but necessary reading.

Brisbois’s writing is immersive, blending scientific research with real-world stories, though at times the dense academic detail made it a bit heavy-going. A slightly more accessible approach would have widened its appeal. That said, Banana Republic is a thought-provoking and powerful read for anyone interested in environmental justice, global inequality, and food politics. It left me questioning the systems we often take for granted—always the sign of a good book.

If you're looking for a book that unpacks the hidden costs of the food industry and challenges mainstream narratives, this one’s for you.

Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for this ARC.

Banana Capital: Stories, Science, and Poison at the Equator by Ben Brisbois is a fascinating blend of investigative journalism, environmental science, and storytelling that delves into the complex history and impact of the global banana industry. Brisbois weaves together vivid narratives of workers, scientists, and activists with an exploration of the environmental and human costs of banana production, from pesticide use to exploitative labor practices.

The book shines in its ability to balance hard-hitting research with deeply human stories. Brisbois brings the struggles of banana plantation workers to life, capturing their resilience and the systemic injustices they face. His examination of the industry’s reliance on toxic chemicals and monoculture farming is both alarming and eye-opening, making a strong case for more sustainable and ethical agricultural practices.

While the book’s depth is impressive, its scope can sometimes feel overwhelming. Brisbois covers a wide range of topics—from colonial histories to modern supply chain politics—which, while interconnected, may feel disjointed to some readers. Additionally, the scientific sections, though informative, occasionally veer into dense technical language that might deter a general audience.

Despite these minor issues, Banana Capital is a compelling and important read. Brisbois’s thoughtful critique of the industry and his call for systemic change make this book essential for anyone interested in environmental justice, labor rights, or the hidden costs of global food production. It’s a powerful reminder of the stories and sacrifices behind the fruit on our tables.

Banana Capital was a dense and sometimes difficult read, but an important one. I felt like I learned a lot about the banana industry, and Ben Brisbois does a good job explaining everything so that it's easy to understand. It did take me a while to get through, primarily because of the length and the amount of information conveyed.