Food Safety Lessons from Andy Weir's 'Project Hail Mary' and 'The Martian'

I’ve long accepted that I see the world a bit differently than most. Whether I’m reading a novel, watching a film or listening to music, I tend to filter it all through one lens: food safety.

It’s not something I turn on and off. It’s simply how I interpret risk, responsibility and leadership. In my column, I often describe food safety as requiring a “Herculean effort,” not because it demands brute strength, but because it calls for sustained vigilance, discipline and ethical clarity in the face of constant pressure.

That perspective is what drew me, perhaps unexpectedly, to the work of Andy Weir.

For those unfamiliar, Weir is a contemporary science fiction author best known for “The Martian,” adapted into a major motion picture in 2015, and “Project Hail Mary,” released in theaters this year. His stories are grounded in rigorous science, but what makes them resonate is not the technology — it’s the decision-making. His protagonists are not traditional heroes; they are problem-solvers operating in unforgiving environments where every miscalculation carries consequences.

As I watched these stories unfold on screen, I found myself recognizing something deeper: these are not just science fiction narratives. They are modern reflections of classic Greek archetypes, and, more importantly, they offer a compelling framework for thinking about food safety leadership today.

Mark Watney, the stranded astronaut (played by Matt Damon) in “The Martian,” is a clear example of Odysseus. He survives not through strength or luck, but through intellect, adaptability and relentless problem-solving. Every calorie is calculated. Every risk is assessed. Every failure is analyzed and incorporated into the next decision. Replace Mars with a global food supply chain, and the parallels become hard to ignore.

Here on Earth, food safety leaders are navigating systems just as complex and just as unforgiving. A single breakdown, such as a lapse in sanitation, a missed signal in environmental monitoring or a flawed supplier verification, can cascade into consequences that reach far beyond a single facility. Like Watney, leaders must rely on science, data and disciplined thinking, not instinct or assumption.

“Project Hail Mary” introduces its protagonist, Ryland Grace (played by Ryan Gosling), as a figure who echoes both Prometheus and the tragic heroes of Greek drama. He carries knowledge that can save humanity, but that knowledge comes with risk and moral weight. His decisions are not clean or comfortable; they are made under uncertainty, with incomplete information and with consequences that cannot be undone.

This is the reality of food safety leadership.

Decisions about recalls, public disclosures or halting production are rarely made in ideal conditions. They involve trade-offs — economic, operational, reputational — but they are ultimately ethical decisions. Greek tragedy warned us about hubris, the danger of overconfidence and the refusal to recognize limits. In the context of food safety, we see this play out all too often: organizations that believe their systems are infallible, that warning signs can be managed quietly, that the realities of failure can be minimized to protect brand reputation or that “it won’t happen here.”

Weir’s stories offer a counterpoint. His characters survive because they assume the opposite. They question their assumptions. They test, measure and adapt. In short, they lead with humility before science. That is a lesson our industry cannot afford to overlook.

But leadership does not exist in a vacuum. There is another voice in this conversation: the consumer.

As Harry Styles’ song “Sign of the Times” finds its moment in the “Project Hail Mary” film, its message captures something essential about how consumers increasingly confront food safety failures. The song carries a sense of recognition more than surprise: an acknowledgment that recalls and outbreaks are no longer exceptions, but recurring realities.

In food safety, we see a similar shift.

Consumers today are more informed than ever. When they hear about recalls or outbreaks, they are certainly concerned, but they are rarely shocked. There is a growing perception that these incidents are not anomalies, but indicators of underlying system stress. Globalization, scale and speed have created a food system that is remarkably efficient but also inherently vulnerable.

And yet, consumers continue to participate in that system. They adjust temporarily (avoiding certain products or brands), but they do not disengage. They cannot. What emerges is a kind of informed unease: an awareness of risk coupled with a reliance on the very system that produces it.

For those of us in food safety, this should be a sobering signal.

When recalls and outbreaks begin to feel like a “sign of the times,” the danger is not just the immediate hazard. It is the gradual normalization of failure. Once that normalization takes hold, rebuilding trust becomes exponentially more difficult.

This is where the idea of a Herculean effort becomes more than a metaphor. In Greek mythology, Hercules was defined not by a single act, but by a series of labors — each demanding persistence, resilience and resolve. Food safety is no different, achieved not through one audit, one certification or one successful inspection, but through continuous, disciplined effort across an entire system.

Weir’s stories remind us that survival, whether on Mars or within our global food supply, depends on systems that anticipate failure, leaders who respond transparently and cultures that prioritize evidence over ego.

The gods may no longer shape our fate, but the responsibility is no less profound.

If we are to meet the expectations of today’s consumers (and earn their trust tomorrow), we must embrace the same mindset as Weir’s reluctant heroes: question everything, respect the science and never assume that success today guarantees safety tomorrow.