I wrote this two years ago now, and was glad to hear this week that more and more farmers are trying what are called bio-fumigants. Here's the CBC story, and the column from 2014.
How mustard could be the 'golden ticket' to stopping potato pest
Think all those bright yellow fields are canola? They're not.
Island
farmers are growing about 15,000 acres of mustard this summer as part
of an ongoing battle against the wireworm, a pest that cost the the
P.E.I. potato industry $6 million in 2014.
"It's been one of our biggest battles growing potatoes here," observed Willem VanNieuwenhuyzen of Vanco Farms.
"For
years it seemed like it was getting worse and worse, and it's a bit of a
helpless feeling knowing there's not a lot out there that we can use to
battle it.
"Hopefully this mustard is our golden ticket, that's kind of what we're all banking on."
Wireworms dig holes in potatoes as they grow, making them unfit for sale.
'We buy with our eyes'
The
farmers don't harvest the mustard, but mulch it and plough it into the
soil. As it breaks down, the mustard gives off a bio-fumigant into the
soil that kills wireworm and other pests.
Wireworms live in the
ground, beyond the reach of insecticides sprayed on the surface. The
insects dig holes in potatoes as they grow, making them unfit for sale.
'We buy with our eyes and when you see a potato that's been damaged by wireworm, people just don't want to buy that.'
- Dan MacEachern
"It's been pretty substantial to the industry. We buy with our eyes and when you see a potato that's been damaged by wireworm, people just don't want to buy that," said Dan MacEachern with the P.E.I. Department of Agriculture. Vanco Farms, for example, had one field last year that was hit hard by wireworm and cost them half of the crop. That's why Vanco has planted more than 2,000 acres of mustard this year in all the fields where potatoes will be planted next season.
A crew from Vanco Farms mulches and ploughs a field of mustard that will be planted in potatoes next year. (Nancy Russell/CBC)
Keeping an eye on the enemy
"We're calling ourselves mustard farmers now because we seem to grow more mustard than anything else," joked VanNieuwenhuyzen.
Mustard doesn't generate any revenue but VanNieuwenhuyzen hopes it will pay off.
'We're calling ourselves mustard farmers now because we seem to grow more mustard than anything else.'
- Willem VanNieuwenhuyzen
"The potatoes we pack are expensive and wireworm damage is hard to pick out," added VanNieuwenhuyzen.
"We're hoping that the benefits of the next year's crop will justify this."
Vanco
Farms also has a summer student monitoring traps in its fields that
capture click beetles. Female click beetles can lay 100 to 200 eggs that
produce the destructive wireworm larvae.
For VanNieuwenhuyzen, it's all about "knowing the enemy."
"I
think we're seeing some improvements. I hope we're getting it under
control. That's our goal and I think we're getting there."
Willem VanNieuwenhuyzen of Vanco Farms says the company has more than 2,000 acres of mustard this year. (Nancy Russell/CBC)
Fields of gold
The amount of mustard being grown this season is up 25 per cent and MacEachern expects that number to remain stable.
"I
don't see them decreasing any time soon — if anything maybe acres will
increase a bit just because it's a nice, natural way to help improve the
soil," said MacEachern.
The fields of bright yellow mustard have been attracting attention.
"The
department has received a lot of calls this summer and they're
inquiring as to why there's so much canola being grown on the Island
this year," explained MacEachern.
"And it turns out it's actually mustard."
Dan
MacEachern thinks the amount of mustard being grown is going to remain
stable or possibly even increase in coming years. (Nancy Russell/CBC)
Fighting Wireworm May Save the Potato
Industry
August 2014
Wireworms are nothing but trouble for
farmers. Voracious worms that feast on grain , fruit,grasses, root crops, and whatever else
farmers have planted. The damage is usually enough to keep produce from being
acceptable on blemish free supermarket shelves. Wireworms have forced some families to quit
farming, costing others thousands of dollars.Depending on the species they emerge as click beetles every 2 to 5 years
and can fly somewhere else to do extend their damage. So Petrie have you lost
your mind??
It’s how farmers are being forced to fight
wireworm that I find interesting, maybe hopeful.In Canada Thimet is the only insecticide that
works, but after several extensions it’s supposed to lose its registration in
2015, with nothing in the pipeline to replace it.So farmers are being forced to look at crop
rotations with brown mustard and buckwheat, which have proven to be quite an
effective way to control wireworm numbers. The crops are cut and plowed under,
not harvested, and release bio-toxins that kill and control wireworm
populations. Here’s the thing. Thinking
about crop rotations as a way to improve the quality of the “money maker” crop in the second, third or fourth year
ofa rotation is a welcome return to how
farmers used tothink about crop
rotations.More recently, because
farmers have been paid so poorly for table and processing potatoes, the second
and third years of a rotation have to be money makers too, so soybeans, and corn
have become popular rotation crops. They are certainly more valuable than
barley or hay, but they’re harvested late with little chance for fall cover
crops, and do little to improve organic matter levelsin the soil. And I can’t think of anything
that’s more important to reversing the negative cycle of nitrate and pesticide
leaching, anoxic rivers,sedimentation,
and now the growing need for irrigation,than improving soil quality. And that just won’t happen unless crop
rotation is taken seriously, and rotation crops are viewed as ways of improving
soil structure and health,not of
keeping farmers from going bankrupt.
I had the privilegeof interviewing many of the old hands in the
potato industry, the movers and leaders through the 60’s, 70’s and 1980’s (the
videos can be seen on the Youtube channel of the PEI Potato Board). They all worry about the brutal economics in
the potato industry, prices they’d seen in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s while the cost
of production has skyrocketed. Many worry about the shortcuts farmers have been
forced to take to survive, the growth in farm size as farmers chase economies
of scale. All worry about the future of the industry.Several spoke passionately aboutthe crop rotations that worked for them. Yes,
they’d say,there would be a lot of sod
to wrestle with in the potatoes grown after a hay crop, but you had to do it to
keep the soil healthy.Some talked about
the importance of keeping cattle to have the manure to put back on the
land.All accepted that if you could break
even on a rotation crop, generate a little cash at the elevators delivering
grain,that was fine, because it was the
potatoes that had to pay the bills,and
quality and yield came from good soils.These guys know what they’re talking about.
I’m not saying this is an issue on every
farm, and these concerns are hardly new. The latest came from the group looking
at the series of fishkills in Barclay’s Brook in West Prince:
“The Action Committee found that soil in some land
backing onto the Barclay Brook has low
organic matter levels as a result of intensive farm
management practices leading to a greater
likelihood of soil erosion and increased surface
runoff. The Action Committee understands
similar circumstances probably occur at locations
throughout the province making watercourses more
vulnerable to contaminated surface runoff.”
I really wish wireworm wasn’t the reason for farmers
to think again about the proper use of crop rotations. Unfortunately wireworm
is particularly fond of grass which should be an important part of rebuilding
soil organic levels,but mustard and
buckwheat are both good sources of organic matter too.All of this requires more research, some
regulatory backbone to enforce crop rotation rules (including common sense and
flexibility, increasing organic matter should be the yardstick), and big buyers
like Cavendish Farms not countingon
rotation crops to keep farmers solvent. They’re needed to rebuild soil quality, not backstop cheap
potatoes.
I've written a lot, we've all read a lot, about GMO's. I think the ground is shifting a bit right now. Labeling is quickly gaining momentum, and some in the media are working harder to move beyond GMO or non-GMO as the battle line. Now more important (in my opinion anyway) distinctions are being made, better questions being asked. Where did the genes come from? Who did the research? Will the seeds be patented and expensive. Is the new variety actually solving a problem, or just padding the bottom line of a big corporation? Is the variety advancement tied to the use of another product?
Here's a story that asks and answers these questions very persuasively.
These vitamin-fortified bananas might get you thinking differently about GMOs
By Nathanael Johnson
In the winter of 2014, students at Iowa State University
received emails asking them to volunteer for an experiment. Researchers
were looking for women who would eat bananas that had been genetically
engineered to produce extra carotenes, the yellow-orange nutrients that
take their name from carrots. Our bodies use alpha and beta carotenes to
make retinol, better known as vitamin A, and the experiment was testing
how much of the carotenes in the bananas would transform to vitamin A.
The researchers were part of an international team trying to end vitamin
A deficiency.
The emails reached the volunteers they needed to begin the
experiment, but they also reached protesters. “As a student in the
sustainability program, I immediately started asking questions,” said
Iowa State postdoc Rivka Fidel. “Is this proven safe? Have they
considered the broader cultural and economic issues?”
Fidel and a group of six other alarmed students began asking the
researchers and the school administration to publicly answer questions
about the experiment. They started showing up at events bearing a
petition with their list of questions. Sometimes one of them would dress
up as a banana.
Advertisement – Article continues below
It’s not the first time there has been controversy over the use of
genetic engineering to solve vitamin A deficiency. Since 1982,
researchers have been trying to genetically engineer carotenes into
rice. In 2000, the cover of Time declared that “Golden Rice,” as it was
named, could “save a million kids a year.” But that was premature: The
successful development of Golden Rice has been thwarted by both
technical challenges and protesters.
This is a lot bigger than a squabble between student protesters and
scientists. More than 100,000 children around the world still die every
year from a lack of vitamin A. The pro-GMO and anti-GMO contingents have
accused each other of taking advantage of these vulnerable people to
advance their own causes. There’s no doubt that biotechnology boosters
have used Golden Rice as a public-relations tool, and there’s also no
doubt that it could be a legitimate solution that has been delayed by
protests.
Now we’re seeing the beginnings of the same debate as researchers
from Iowa State, Uganda, and Australia team up to reengineer the staple
food of Uganda, the cooking banana. Clearly, this strategy can be both
difficult and controversial, so why do people keep trying to genetically
engineer their way out of malnutrition?
Fidel told me she and her friends had found it nearly impossible to
extract information from researchers, or from the Gates Foundation,
which is providing funding for this project. Too often conversations
about these kinds of issues simply reverberate within their respective
echo chambers. So to bridge the gap I took the gist of the students’
questions to people at the Gates Foundation, scientists working on the
banana, and the one person who may have done the most to fight vitamin A
deficiency — an ophthalmologist who has no interest in either promoting
or bashing GMOs. Their answers, below, might help alleviate some
suspicions and fears about the GMO banana project.
Is vitamin A deficiency really that bad?
It’s terrible. Think lead poisoning on steroids. Back in the 1980s,
the ophthalmologist Alfred Sommer was in Indonesia, trying to prevent a
form of blindness that results from nutrient deficiencies. When people
got vitamin A, it stopped them from going blind as expected, but Sommer
was astonished to discover that they were also nine times less likely to
die. It wasn’t clear at that time, but now we know that there are
dozens of different bodily processes that require vitamin A.
Without it, fetal organs like lungs don’t develop correctly, often
leading to infant death. Children without enough vitamin A in their
systems can’t fight off diseases, and common germs become fatal. Without
vitamin A, mucus membranes in the eyes, throat, and lungs dry up and
turn to skin. “The cornea will melt,” Sommer said, bringing on
blindness. And the purpose of the mucus in our lungs is to tangle up
invading germs and prevent infections. The combination of a
dysfunctional immune system and dry lungs is devastating. The World
Health Organization estimates that 250,000 to 500,000 children go blind
each year, and half of them die, because they aren’t getting enough
vitamin A.
“There has been an evidence-based obsession with solving vitamin A
deficiency because correcting it averts 23 percent of mortality in
children [between 6 months and 5 years old],” said Shawn Baker, director
of the nutrition team at the Gates Foundation who has worked on this
problem throughout his career.
Tackling this problem is important for environmental reasons as well as the obvious humanitarian ones: Abundant historical evidence suggests
that reducing childhood mortality is a necessary step toward leveling
off population growth. Parents tend to spread their resources
between fewer children when they are confident their kids aren’t going
to die.
Aren’t there simpler ways to address vitamin A deficiency?
There are much simpler ways of delivering carotenes or vitamin A to
people who need it. When Sommer first started working on vitamin A
deficiency, he simply gave people pills or squirted fortified oil
directly into their mouths, and that worked well. He found that you
could nearly eliminate a person’s deficiency by providing one large dose
every six months. Governments all over the world have done just that.
But there’s a catch: You have to make sure that doses travel every dirt
road to every small village, twice a year. You need every single kid in
those villages to show up to take their medicine. In practice, that just
doesn’t happen.
“In countries with good supplementation programs, about 70 percent of kids get it,” Sommer said.
So Sommer and other researchers tried different routes. They mixed
carotenes with MSG, a seasoning that the very poor use every day in some
parts of the world, but when it was mass produced “it glumped up and
turned yellow,” Sommer said.
They tried handing out little baggies of nutrients for sprinkling in
food but just couldn’t get people to use them. They tried to push people
to eat more nutritious foods, but the good sources of vitamin A — eggs,
milk, and organ meats — were often too expensive for the poorest. Fruit
was also a luxury. But what about vegetables?
Dark leafy greens are rich in carotenes, and they’re abundant in many
poorer parts of the world. “For years it bothered me,” Sommer said.
“Why are kids vitamin A deficient when there are green leafy vegetables
everywhere you look?”
Let them eat kale?
There was a good explanation for that mystery. It turns out that all
the fiber in vegetables stymies our body’s attempts to absorb their
carotenes. Researchers used to think that a person would need to eat six
molecules of vegetable carotenes to make one Vitamin A molecule. Now
scientists know we need 24 vegetable carotene molecules to make a single
Vitamin A molecule. To get their daily allowance from leafy greens,
people would have to gorge.
Is industrial agriculture to blame for vegetables and other crops becoming less nutritious?
If you start out with the belief that the industrialization of
agriculture is the source of nutrition problems, then genetically
modifying crops may feel like a step in the wrong direction. After all,
many people see GMOs as a symbol of Big Food.
Vandana Shiva, a prominent critic of GMOs and of Golden Rice in
particular, argues that the Green Revolution (the push to increase farm
yields in Asia and South America with modern seeds and chemicals) caused
nutrient deficiencies by replacing dietary diversity with uniformity.
Advertisement – Article continues below
But this argument falls flat in the case of vitamin A deficiency
because the problem is prevalent in places that the Green Revolution
never reached — like tiny villages in Africa. In fact, the people fed by
industrial agriculture are the least likely to lack vitamin A. In
Guatemala and Honduras, Sommer told me, even the poorest people eat
sugar from centralized mills, fortified by their governments with
vitamin A. In Uganda, many of the people hit hardest by vitamin
deficiency are subsistence farmers using traditional methods to grow a
diversity of foods.
If it’s not industrial agriculture that causes vitamin A deficiency,
perhaps it’s agriculture in general. When humans stopped hunting and
regularly eating liver, they lost a prime source of vitamin A. In her
book Vitamania, the
journalist Catherine Price points out that 74 percent of Americans
wouldn’t get enough vitamin A without supplements and fortified food. In
many places around the world, the poorest people grow their own food,
so they don’t benefit from fortification.
So, after trying everything else, nutrition experts looked for ways
to grow carotenes in the basic staples. They had great success in parts
of Africa using traditional breeding to boost the carotenes in corn and
sweet potatoes. But in Uganda, the staple food isn’t corn or sweet
potato; it’s banana, and banana is devilishly difficult to breed. Many
species of banana have stopped reproducing sexually, making them next to
impossible for breeders to alter … unless they use genetic engineering.
Would carotene-fortified bananas actually work, given the difficulties faced by Golden Rice?
Carotenes in starches — like rice or bananas — convert to vitamin A
more efficiently than those in vegetables (because starches have less
fiber), but you still need to eat enough. When Golden Rice landed on the
cover of Time, scientists had only figured out how to make it produce a
tiny bit of carotene. Researchers eventually solved that problem then
ran into other roadblocks. Every new obstacle meant more delays and more
regulatory hurdles, largely because of the controversy over GMOs. It
didn’t help that protesters occasionally ripped up test fields. Anti-GMO
activists blame delays on the complexity of the technical problem,
while pro-GMOers blame the activists. In reality, one compounded the other.
So will this banana project follow the same tortuous path of Golden
Rice? Maybe not: The banana researchers have learned from the Golden
Rice scientists, and with their aid have managed to avoid the same
technical traps. In fact, researchers already have produced a banana
that produces enough carotenes, said James Dale, head of a lab at
Queensland University of Technology in Australia, which is working with
Ugandan researchers on the banana.
So far, Dale’s team has figured out how carotene levels in the banana
change in the time between getting cut from the tree and winding up in
your mouth (they actually increase), how cooking affects the nutrients
(a loss of 20-30 percent), and how much is absorbed in the gut of a
Mongolian gerbil (plenty, and actually a lot more when the bananas were
cooked). Gerbils synthesize vitamin A like humans do, but gerbils are
obviously different from humans in many ways (they are far more
adorable), which is why we now have students at Iowa State eating
bananas.
Anti-GMO activists have dismissed previous (Golden Rice) studies of
carotene conversion because participants eat more fat than poor people.
That’s important, because fat helps us absorb carotene. But we humans don’t need much fat to begin absorbing carotene and converting it to vitamin A, just three to five grams a day, far less than even the poorest people eat.
Aren’t bananas already perfectly nutritious?
Some are, but not the ones that people eat as a staple in Uganda and
other areas. Wilberforce Tushemereirwe, the Ugandan leader of the banana
project, explained in an email that the cooking banana that serves as
their staple food has few carotenes. They found they could rev up its
nutrient production by importing a gene from a carotene-rich Micronesian
banana.
Wouldn’t it be hard to spread the new banana plants?
If it is hard to get vitamin A supplements to every small village,
getting baby banana trees to small farmers will be even harder. But
Uganda’s government won’t have to do it every six months, because the
bananas reproduce. And while kids might miss a semi-annual medical
visit, they won’t skip dinner.
Still, it’s an open question as to whether farmers will embrace the
new banana trees. In surveys Ugandan farmers have said they would be
interested in planting the new trees, but no one knows how motivated
they will be to use them. If the bananas require special care they might
fail in the same way that baggies of nutrient sprinkles failed. Farmers
said they had no problem with the vitamin-A bananas, but really wanted
the bananas that are being engineered to resist diseases.
Is this a Trojan Horse for industrial agriculture?
Here too, the banana researchers have learned from the travails of
Golden Rice. Researchers developed Golden Rice in partnership with the
biotech company Syngenta, and the company retained its patents to
control the rice. And activists argued that the company might use this
ownership to exploit the poor.
The banana isn’t going down that path. It won’t be patented, and the
government will probably give it away to farmers free. Once established,
bananas reproduce by sending up genetically identical shoots, which
farmers could replant or sell. It won’t be like hybrid corn. Farmers can
only grow that if they buy new seeds every year.
Advertisement – Article continues below
The cast of characters is also different. This time, the motivation
comes not from a biotechnology company, or a Western charity, but from
Ugandans who have an intimate understanding of what small farmers need.
It was spearheaded by Tushemereirwe, a government scientist, who formed a
partnership with Dale, the university scientist in Australia, and
together they applied to the Gates Foundation for funding.
When I asked Tushemereirwe if he would connect me with a small
farmer, he said that he would start the process, and that it might take a
while. “However, I want you to note that I come from a banana growing
rural area where I am a small banana farmer. My extended family is
representative of rural peasants I am talking about and I am working
hard to solve our problem.”
Most of the scientists working with Tushemereirwe also grew up in
families of subsistence farmers and return home often. No one person can
speak for all small Ugandan farmers, but this group of Ugandan
scientists seems better equipped than most to act in the best interest
of their communities.
Is it safe?
Anti-GMO activists have pointed out that, in large doses, vitamin A
is associated with birth defects, so they’ve warned that the banana
could pose dangers. “That’s rubbish,” Sommer told me.
Sure, it would be dangerous for a pregnant woman already getting enough vitamin A to take massive doses of it.
“[But] we are not talking about vitamin A,” Sommer said, “we are
talking about beta-carotene. It’s impossible to overdose on
beta-carotene. If you get too much, the body just stops converting it.
You might turn a little orange, but that’s the worst thing that would
happen.”
Dale also points out that the genetic engineering didn’t make radical
changes, it just inserted a gene from one banana into another. “We’re
just up-regulating a natural process,” he said.
It’s impossible to prove that any new technology is safe, but their
banana will go through a lengthy safety assessment before farmers can
get it in Uganda. Unbiased observers have told me they are not worried
about adding carotenes.
Why invest so much money in something unproven?
Golden Rice still hasn’t panned out, so why double down? When I asked
Baker at the Gates Foundation why they had decided to fund this
project, he explained that it could provide a systemic solution. It’s
attacking the cause. Just providing supplements is an incomplete
treatment of the symptoms. Despite the high price of genetically
engineering crops one study of Uganda’s banana project called it a “very
cost-effective” option.
Baker was quick to point out that the Gates Foundation isn’t just
tackling vitamin A deficiency through genetic modification. It has also
helped finance programs to add carotenes to crops through traditional
breeding. It backs sanitation projects to reduce the damage done by
nutrient-robbing parasites and invests a lot of money in supporting
optimal breastfeeding, the best way for mothers to protect their babies
against disease.
More broadly, the foundation is aiming at the social and economic
problems that gang up on subsistence farmers. From that perspective, the
millions the Gates Foundation spends on the banana project looks like a
modest investment. It’s a risk — it may not pan out — but if the banana
does work as hoped, it will really will save thousands of lives.
Despite all the other efforts the Ugandan government and charities have
currently underway (fortification of flour and cooking oil, distribution
of supplements, dietary education), 38 percent of children under 5 are
vitamin A deficient, Tushemereirwe said.
Why are Americans so interested?
There’s just something about genetic engineering that stirs up
passion. When scientists were boosting the carotenes in corn through
traditional breeding, for instance, activists weren’t raising the alarm
that it might be a danger to the people eating it. In the American mind,
a “GMO” is a symbol for profit-driven corporations, for big
agribusiness, for endless uniform fields of corn, and restrictive
thickets of patents.
But it’s essential to look beyond that symbolic acronym if we want to
weigh the good of individual genetically modified organisms. In this
case, we have public scientists developing a crop to serve the poor, a
crop that fits into diversified farm systems and would be controlled,
bottom up, by farmers.
When an American child is afflicted with terminal illness, we demand
treatment, even if it’s not guaranteed to work. I haven’t been able to
come up with a good reason to think of Ugandan children any differently.
This banana might do a lot of good, but only if we give it the chance.
The item below is really more of a food manifesto than anything else. What I especially like about it is the way the author (a Newfoundland fisherman by the way) writes about financing and marketing. It will seem idealistic to some, but I certainly believe that if we don't support farmers, on the land or the sea, who are producing food in a sustainable way, then we have to assume as much of the blame for outcomes we don't want as the farmers themselves.
From the story:
"For too long, farmers and fishermen have been caught in the beggar’s
game of selling raw commodities while others soak up the profits; too
many of us are locked in the boutique food economy, selling as CSAs and
at farmers markets, with the majority of us not making an adequate
living and having to hold down multiple jobs to make ends meet."
"We’re putting farmers and buyers on equal footing by negotiating with
institutions to guarantee forward contracts so that we get paid before
we grow, and if our crops fail, then both the farmer and the buyer share
the loss. It’s time for everyone to share the risk in the risky
business of growing food in the era of climate change and globalization."
Please take the time to read this through. It's smart, thoughtful, and is actually being done.
The Seas Will Save Us: How an Army of Ocean Farmers are Starting an Economic Revolution
I’m
a fisherman who dropped out of high school in 1986 at the age of 14.
Over my lifetime, I’ve spent many nights in jail. I’m an epileptic. I’m
asthmatic. I don’t even know how to swim. This is my story. It’s a story
of ecological redemption.
I
was born and raised in Petty Harbour, Newfoundland, a little fishing
village with 14 salt-box houses painted in greens, blues, and reds so
that fishermen could find their way home in the fog. At age 14 I left
school and headed out to sea. I fished the Georges Banks and the Grand
Banks for tuna and lobster, then headed to the Bering Sea, where I
fished cod and crab. The trouble was I was working at the height of the
industrialization of food. We were tearing up entire ecosystems with our
trawls, chasing fish further and further out to sea into illegal
waters. I personally have thrown tens of thousands of pounds of by-catch
back into the sea.
It
wasn’t just that we were pillaging. Most of my fish was going to
McDonald’s for their fish sandwiches. There I was, still a kid, working
one of the most unsustainable forms of food production on the planet,
producing some of the most unhealthy food on the planet. But God how I
loved that job! The humility of being in 40-foot seas, the sense of
solidarity that comes with being in the belly of a boat with 13 other
people working 30-hour shifts, and a sense of meaning and pride in
helping to feed my country. I miss those days so, so much.
But
then in the early 1990s the cod stocks crashed back home: thousands of
fishermen thrown out of work, boats beached, canneries shuttered. This
situation created a split in the industry: the captains of industry, who
wanted to fish the last fish, were thinking 10 years down the road, but
there was a younger generation of us thinking 50 years out. We wanted
to make our living on the ocean. I want to die on my boat one
day — that’s my measure of success.
I grew up shooting moose out of my kitchen window. I never thought climate change had anything to do with my life. But it does. From my vantage point, climate change is not an environmental issue at all — it’s an economic issue.
So
we all went on a search for sustainability. I ended up in Northern
Canada on an aquaculture farm. At that point aquaculture was supposed to
be the great solution to overfishing, but when I got there I found more
of the same, only using new technologies to pollute local waterways
with pesticides and pumping fish full of antibiotics. We used to say
that what we were growing was neither fish nor food. We were running the
equivalent of Iowa pig farms at sea.
So
I kept searching and ended up on Long Island Sound, where there was a
program to attract young fishermen back into the industry by opening up
shell-fishing grounds for the first time in 150 years. I signed up,
leased some grounds from the state of New York, and re-made myself as an
oysterman. I did this for seven years. Then the storms hit. Hurricane
Irene and Hurricane Sandy thrashed the East Coast. Two years in a row
the storms buried 90 percent of my crops in three feet of mud, and 40
percent of my gear was washed away in a sea of death. At the same time,
lobster were being driven northward by warming waters, and acidification
was increasing faster than at any other time in 300 million years,
killing billions of oyster seed up and down the American coast.
Suddenly
I found myself on the front lines of a climate crisis that had arrived
100 years earlier than expected. For a long time I’d seen climate change
only as an environmental issue because environmentalists were always
framing it in terms of birds, bears, and bees, but I’m a fisherman. I
kill things for a living. I grew up shooting moose out of my kitchen
window. I never thought climate change had anything to do with my life.
But it does. From my vantage point, climate change is not an
environmental issue at all — it’s an economic issue.
The
same years my farm was wiped out by hurricanes, 83,000 people lost
their jobs in New York City because of flooding, many of those in
manufacturing. Unemployment claims doubled in Vermont along the storm’s
path, and 80 percent of U.S. farmland was shriveled by drought, driving
up food prices for middle and working class families. It turns out there
will be no jobs on a dead planet.
Vertical underwater farming
After
my farm was destroyed, it was clear to me that I had to adapt because I
was facing a serious threat to my livelihood. I began to re-imagine my
occupation and oyster farm. I began experimenting and exploring new
designs and new species. I lifted my farm off the sea bottom to avoid
the impact of storm surges created by hurricanes and started to grow new
mixes of restorative species. Now, after 29 years of working on the
oceans, I’ve remade myself as a 3D ocean farmer, growing a mix of
seaweeds and shellfish for food, fuel, fertilizer, and feed.
My job has never been to save the seas; it’s to figure out how the seas can save us.
That’s
how I got to where I am today. Now let’s dive in and take a look at the
farm and deconstruct why it’s designed the way it is. Imagine a
vertical underwater garden with hurricane-proof anchors on the edges
connected by floating horizontal ropes across the surface. From these
lines kelp and Gracilaria
and other kinds of seaweeds grow vertically downward next to scallops
in hanging nets that look like Japanese lanterns and mussels held in
suspension in mesh socks. Staked below the vertical garden are oysters
in cages and then clams buried in the sea floor.
If
you look for my farm from ashore, there’s almost nothing to see, which
is a good thing. Our underwater farms have a low aesthetic impact.
That’s important because our oceans are beautiful pristine places, and
we want to keep them that way. Because the farm is vertical, it has a
small footprint. My farm used to be 100 acres; now it’s down to 20
acres, but it produces much more food than before. If you want “small is
beautiful,” here it is. We want ocean agriculture to tread lightly.
Our
3D farms are designed to address three major challenges: First, to
bring to the table a delicious new seafood plate in this era of
overfishing and food insecurity; second, to transform fishermen into
restorative ocean farmers; and third, to build the foundation for a new
blue-green economy that doesn’t recreate the injustices of the old
industrial economy.
Eating like fish and transforming an entire workforce
First:
food production. As ocean farmers, we reject aquaculture’s obsession
with monoculture, an obsession similar to that of modern land farming.
Our goal is diversity. It’s a sea-basket approach:We grow two types of
seaweeds, four kinds of shellfish, and we harvest salt. But with over
10,000 edible plants in the ocean, we’ve barely scratched the surface.
We eat only a few species, and we grow basically none in the United
States. We intend to de-sushify seaweed and invent a new native cuisine,
not around our industrial palate of salmon and tuna but around the
thousands of undiscovered ocean vegetables that are right outside our
backdoor.
Native
seaweeds contain more vitamin C than orange juice, more calcium than
milk, and more protein than soybeans. It might surprise those of you on
the hunt for Omega-3s to learn that many fish do not create these
heart-healthy nutrients by themselves — they consume them. By eating the
plants fish eat, we get the same benefits while reducing pressure on
fish stocks. So it’s time that we eat like fish.
We’re
working with chefs to cook up kelp noodles with parsnips and bread
crumbs in barbeque sauce; green sea butters and cheeses; kelp-based
umami-filled bouillons. Our new ocean dinners are fun, they’re creative,
and they’re delicious. This is our opportunity to rearrange the seafood
plate by moving ocean plants and bivalves to the center and wild fish
to the edges. Imagine being a chef in 2015 and discovering that there
are thousands of vegetable species you’ve never cooked with. It’s like
discovering corn, arugula, tomatoes, and lettuce for the first time. As
one of my partner chefs — and the former punk-rock drummer — Brooks
Headley says, “As a chef it feels frightening, daunting, and exciting
all at once.” Ocean greens such as kelp are not small boutique crops. We
can grow incredible amounts of food in small areas: 25 tons of greens
and 250,000 shellfish per acre in five months. If you were to create a
network of our ocean farms totaling the size of Washington state, you
could feed the planet.
This
is zero-input food that requires no fresh water, no fertilizer, no
feed, no arid land. It is hands down the most sustainable food on the
planet.
And
as the price of fertilizer, water, and feed goes up, zero-input food is
going to be the most affordable food on the planet. The economics of it
will drive us to eat ocean greens. The question is, will it be
delicious food or will it be like being force-fed cod liver oil? As
farmers, it’s our job to grow this new cuisine, and for chefs it’s their
job to make it tasty.
Ocean
farming isn’t just about food. It’s about transforming an entire
workforce, transforming fishers into restorative ocean farmers. My job
has never been to save the seas; it’s to figure out how the seas can
save us. I say that because millions of years ago Mother Nature created
two technologies designed to mitigate our harm: shellfish and seaweeds.
Oysters filter up to 50 gallons of water a day, pulling nitrogen — the
cause of our oceans’ spreading dead zones — from the water column. Our
farmed kelp, called the Sequoia of the sea, soaks up five times more
carbon than land based plants. Seaweeds could be a powerful source of
zero-input biofuel; feasibility studies suggest we might produce 2,000 gallons of ethanol per acre — that’s a 30 times
higher yield than soybeans and five times more than corn. According to
the Department of Energy, if you were to take a network of our farms
equaling half the size of the state of Maine, you could replace all the
oil in the United States.
Our
farms function as storm-surge protectors, breaking up wave action to
reduce the impact of hurricanes and rising tides. And they serve as
artificial reefs, attracting more than 150 species of aquatic life. Sea
horses, striped bass and grey seals come to eat, hide, and thrive on our
farms. My farm used to be a barren patch of ocean, now it’s a
flourishing ecosystem. As fishermen, we’re no longer pillagers, hunting
the last fish. We are a new generation of climate farmers who have
joined the fight to restore our planet. We’re trying to break down the
seawalls that separate our land-based and ocean-based food systems. Even
the best land-based farms pollute, sending nitrogen into our waterways,
so we use our kelp to capture that nitrogen, turn it into liquid
fertilizers, and send it back to organic farmers to grow their wonderful
vegetables. When the nitrogen then runs back into Long Island Sound, we
capture it again.
We are also working on new forms of livestock feeds. For example, there’s exciting — though still preliminary — research that suggests
adding algae to diets could reduce methane output in cattle by up to 90
percent. The idea is to build a bridge between land and sea in order to
close the loop between our food systems. Too often our thinking stops
at the water’s edge. A bridge is needed.
The blue-green economy
Our
goal is to build a just foundation for the blue-green economy. Saving
the seas is not enough. There is 40 percent unemployment in my hometown.
I wouldn’t be doing this work unless it created jobs for my people,
unless it opened up new opportunities for the 3 billion folks who depend
on our oceans to make a living.
For the first time in generations, we have an opportunity to grow food the right way, provide good middle-class jobs, restore ecosystem, and feed the planet.
Our
old economy is crumbling. I can’t get cell service in half of the
country, let alone decent health care or a healthy meal. The old economy
is built on the arrogance of growth at all costs, profiting from
pollution, and the refusal to share economic gains with 99 percent of
Americans. But out of the ashes of the old economy, together we are
building something new based on new-economy principles of collaboration,
community-driven innovation, shared profits, and meeting social needs.
Because ocean agriculture is still in its infancy, we have the
unprecedented opportunity to build a model from scratch, to build from
the bottom up an economy that works for everyone, not just a few. We
have the opportunity to learn from the mistakes of industrial
agriculture and aquaculture. This is our chance to do food right.
We
addressed the first question of farm replication and scale, not by
patenting or franchising — those are tools of the old economy — but by
open-sourcing our farming model so that anybody with 20 acres and a boat
and $30,000 can start his or her own farm. One of our new farmers is a
third-generation lobsterman who was unemployed because climate change
had pushed lobsters northward. We got him up and running, growing and
selling the first year. Among our other farmers are former Alaskan
salmon fishermen, an Iraq war veteran, and a Latino family whose
ancestors were driven off their farmlands in Mexico. We replicate and
scale by specifically designing our farms to require low capital costs
and minimal skills. We seek simplicity not complexity. We believe that
replication is driven by setting low barriers to entry so that people
from all walks of life can grow and prosper with us. At the same time
our farmers receive startup grants, access to free seed, gear donated by
Patagonia, and two years of free consulting from GreenWave. What is
most important, we guarantee to purchase 80 percent of their crops for
the first five years at triple the market rate.
We
intend to create stable and secure markets that give our beginning
farmers time to learn the trade and to scale up their farms. They keep
farming because they know they’ll get paid well for what they grow. Our
vision is hundreds of small-scale ocean farms dotting our coastlines,
surrounded by conservation zones. Imagine a Napa valley of ocean
merroirs dotting out coastlines.
We
envision 3D farms embedded in wind farms, harvesting not only wind but
also food, fuel and fertilizers. We envision using shuttered coal
plants — like the one closing in Bridgeport, Conn. — for processing
animal feed and salt. We want to repurpose the fossil-fuel and fishing
industries so that they will protect rather than destroy our oceans.
Getting out of the boutique food economy and recreating an industry
The
second question is how to build the infrastructure needed to ensure
that ocean farmers and communities will reap the rewards of the
blue-green economy. For too long, farmers and fishermen have been caught
in the beggar’s game of selling raw commodities while others soak up
the profits; too many of us are locked in the boutique food economy,
selling as CSAs and at farmers markets, with the majority of us not
making an adequate living and having to hold down multiple jobs to make
ends meet. But now, in our unexplored oceans we have a chance to plan
ahead and to build an infrastructure in the right way. One of our new
farmers, a 65-year-old fisherman, whose family has fished in Rhode
Island for 300 years, put it this way: “The last thing we want to do
with 3D farming is re-create the fishing industry.”
We can invent new occupations, shift entire workforces out of the old economy into the new restorative economy.
Instead
of repeating history we’re building infrastructure from
seed-to-harvest-to-market. We’re starting nonprofit hatcheries so that
our farmers can access low-cost seed. We’re creating ocean seed banks so
that the Monsantos of the world can’t privatize the source of our food
and livelihoods. We cap the price of a sublease at $50 an acre per year
so that low-income ocean farmers can access property. But by “property”
we do not mean privatization. Our farmers don’t own their patch of
ocean; they own only the right to grow shellfish and seaweeds there,
which means that anyone can boat, fish, or swim on their farms. I own
the process of farming but not the property, and this keeps my farm as
shared community space. We’re also building in levers of community
control. Leases are up for review every five years so that if I’m
farming unsustainably, my rights can be revoked.
At
the same time, we’re building the country’s first farmer-owned seafood
hub, which is not only a place to process, package and ship the raw
commodities we raise but also a space to leverage the unique qualities
of our seaweeds. The power of kelp is that it’s not just food; there is a
whole range of products we can produce that meet environmental and
social needs: organic fertilizers, new livestock feeds, kelp biofuels,
and even medicine. With thousands of yet undiscovered ocean plants,
farmers and scientists can join together to discover and grow new forms
of medicine.
Pushing injustice off the table
If
we provide our communities with the right mix of low-cost, open-source
infrastructure, our hub will become an engine for job creation and the
basis for inventing new industries. It will also be an engine for food
justice, a place where we embed good jobs, food access, and nutrition
into the structure of ocean agriculture. This means, for example,
working with local grassroots groups like CitySeed
in New Haven, Conn., to ensure that low-income folks can use food
stamps to carry double the value at our Community Supported Fisheries
(CSFs) and our Beyond Fish retail store. It also means using our hub as a
hiring hall where local workers can find jobs on our farms, in our
startups, and in our kitchens. If you come to the hub for a job, don’t
bring your resumé. We don’t care if you are a former felon or an
undocumented immigrant; we’re going to put you to work.
The
final challenge is how to re-arrange the relationships between those of
us who produce food and those of us who buy it. Failure would be to
recreate the power dynamics of the old economy. Just as we need to
re-arrange what’s on our dinner plates by moving ocean greens to the
center, we need to move farmers, food workers, communities, and
protection of the planet to the center of our plate, and push the
destructive, unjust old economy off the table. We’re putting farmers and
buyers on equal footing by negotiating with institutions to guarantee
forward contracts so that we get paid before we grow, and if our crops
fail, then both the farmer and the buyer share the loss. It’s time for
everyone to share the risk in the risky business of growing food in the
era of climate change and globalization.
The
relationship between farmer and buyer has to go even deeper.
Reformatting the food system is going to be costly. It’s going to be
complex. Simply using purchasing power will not be enough. Anchor
institutions such as hospitals, universities, wholesalers, and retailers
have a new role, a new set of responsibilities in the new economy. They
have a duty to invest aggressively in our farmers, our infrastructure
and our communities. This involves donating a portion of their profits
and their endowment to building hatcheries, seafood hubs, logistical and
transport systems, incubation, and R&D. This will mean less profit
for the private sector and a lower rate of return for universities. But
it will also mean more value in terms of social and environmental good.
All around us we can see that “business as usual” will not save this
planet. It’s time to divest from the old economy and invest in the new.
The new economy: Rethinking “the politics of no”
Finally,
we are insisting that markets reward the positive externalities of our
farms. We’re working in places like Connecticut to include ocean farmers
in existing nitrogen trading programs. New farms are being built in
polluted areas like Bridgeport and the Bronx River in order to soak up
the nitrogen and carbon, pull out heavy metals, and re-build reefs.
Instead of harvesting food, these farms harvest ecosystem services.
While others pollute, we restore — and as farmers we should be paid for
the positive externalities of our work. In the new economy, markets have
to reflect the environmental benefits we provide.
We could set aside the entire world’s oceans, and our ocean ecosystems would still die. Conservation alone is no longer environmentalism.
In
1979, Jacques Cousteau, the father of ocean conservation, wrote: “We
must plant the sea and herd its animals using the ocean as farmers
instead of hunters. That is what civilization is all about — farming
replacing hunting.” This dream of Cousteau’s and of Green Wave’s is
frightening to some environmentalists. The idea of hundreds of ocean
farms dotting our coastlines and the idea of 3D farms embedded in wind
farms are unsettling to many because of the scale. As a result, the
instinct of environmentalists is to do everything they can to protect
the oceans from any and all forms of economic development. They shield
themselves with a “politics of no.” I’m sympathetic to these fears,
especially given the history of industrial aquaculture in the 1980s; yet
in the era of climate change, it’s an illusion for environmentalists to
think they can save our seas by relying on a conservation strategy
alone while continuing to ask the oceans to feed our hunger for wild
seafood.
Conservation
represents its own form of climate-change denial. We all know it’s
real, but the true significance, the implications, the urgency, haven’t
sunk in. Just look at what’s happening on land and sea: rising water
temperatures and acidification threatening one out of four marine
species with extinction; drought and extreme weather expected to make
U.S. corn prices go up by 140 percent in the next 15 years alone, while
agriculture is responsible for one-third to one-half of all carbon
emissions and uses 80 percent of the fresh water in some areas, making
it the primary cause of droughts, rising food prices, and food
insecurity.
If
there is one lesson we should learn from the 2015 water wars in
California, it’s that our food system is going to be driven out to sea.
Yes, we need marine parks, but we could set aside the entire world’s
oceans, and our ocean ecosystems would still die. Conservation alone is
no longer environmentalism.
The
climate crisis demands that we use our fears as a catalyst for change.
For the first time in generations, we have an opportunity to grow food
the right way, provide good middle-class jobs, restore ecosystem, and
feed the planet.
This
is the new face of environmentalism. As our food system gets pushed out
to sea, we can come together to block privatization, to protect our
commons and to spread the seeds of justice. We can invent new
occupations, shift entire workforces out of the old economy into the new
restorative economy. This is our chance to recruit an army of ocean
farmers to grow a new climate cuisine that is both beautiful and hopeful
so that all of us can make a living on a living planet.
A farmer said this to me about a month ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind. I tried to work the idea into a column that inlcluded some new information, how the biggest buyer of potatoes on PEI, Irving owned Cavendish Farms, had hit the jackpot from the low Canadian dollar. Could the company share some of this found money with farmers? Would it? We'll have to wait and see.
Time to Loosen the Purse Strings Mr.
Irving: We’ll All Benefit
It was the kind of article you’d expect in
Acres USA, the Canadian Organic Grower, or from the Rodale Institute.Instead “Cover Crops, a Farming Revolution”
was in the business section of the New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/07/business/cover-crops-a-farming-revolution-with-deep-roots-in-the-past.html)
. True blue meat and potatoes mid-western U.S. farmers singing the praises of
non-cash crops like hairy vetch and cereal rye. These are your very
conventional corn and soybean growers who’ve done very well over the last two
decades. Between U.S. government subsidies, and ethanol mandates, they’ve made some
serious money, but they’ve watched their soils deteriorate from short
rotations, and worry about extreme weather events, high heat and drought.“Our corn was wilting when temperatures hit
103 degrees” said one farmer, “I felt like I had a gorilla on my shoulder.” The
number of farmers using cover crops is still small, but they report big
benefits, increased yields, less need for fertilizer and pesticides, erosion
control,and the ability to withstand
droughts.Organic matter levels that had
gone from as high as 10% to below 2% from constant cash cropping, are going up
again, at about 1% every two years. The
article quotes an agriculture department official,“We’ve never seen
anything taken up as rapidly as using cover crops,” said Barry Fisher, a soil
health specialist at the Natural Resources Conservation
Service.
PEI needs a cover crop revolution too, and its
already started on some farms.The Hogg
familynear Kensington just won the
Gilbert Clements Environmental Award. In the GuardianAdam Hogg was quoted: “We’ve done a lot of cover cropping
during the past two or three years on all our potato ground… and we are trying
to reduce the amount of fall plowing as best we can.” John Hogg said“We try very hard to make sure we have a
cover crop on the land. We’re constantly looking for something that is better
than barley to hold the ground better and ensure it’s not blowing soil away on
us.” Contrast that with what many saw in late January: bare fields, frigid
weather turning soil particles into freeze dried coffee, and valuable top soil
blown into ditches and neighbouring back yards.
The Hoggs are the
first to admit they’ve got some advantages over many other potato growers. They
grow varieties that can be harvested earlier than the long-season russet
Burbank that french fry makers demand, time to plant a cover crop in the Fall.I’m going to suggest two other things the
Hoggs have, a fierce determination to protect the health of their soils, and
profitability.It costs money to grow a
crop that will be plowed in rather than harvested.They sell to a potato chip market that pays
fairly, while many other potato growers cope with at best marginal contracts
with Cavendish Farms.The Irving owned
company has convinced enough farmersthat Cavendish is uncompetitive because of the lack of irrigation, higher energy and transportation costs,with its big U.S. counterparts in the U.S.
North-West.Growers have reluctantly
accepted price cuts and rollovers for several years now and tried to survive
growing cash crops like soybeans in rotations rather than true cover
crops.That’s got to change, and here’s
why it should now.
The low Canadian
dollar is giving Cavendish Farms a windfall of money, between $20 to $30
million at least by my calculations, simply by carrying on business as usual.
The 70+ cent dollar is just where it was in the mid 1990’s when the Irvings and
McCains couldn’t wait to build new french fry plants here. The McCains have
left (and probably regret it), but Cavendish carries on. I encourage, I implore
Cavendish to share some of this “found money” with growers, and for growers to
insist that it does.
And don’t stop there.
Keep working on new varieties like Prospect that can be harvested earlier with
less fertilizer, demand more research into cover crops that can contain
wireworm, improve soil fertility, and let’s make bare fields in the fall as
unacceptable as drunk driving . Ifthere isn’t time for a cover crop, then at
least spread straw to slow down erosion. All of these come with costs.According to the Times article the U.S.
government subsidizes cover crops there, and some states like Maryland pay the
full cost of cover crops for farms next to Chesapeake Bay. I don’t expect that
here. What I do hope for is that farmers here are paid fairly so they can make better
decisions, bring the same determination to improvingsoil quality as the Hogg family. As one
farmer said to me: “It’s hard being green when you’re in the red.”
A couple of important issues, one I researched and wrote about, the other by Tom Philpott who does excellent work on agriculture stories for Mother Jones. The dairy piece was originally in the Island Farmer.
A Shortage of Butter: Sounds Like Good News
for Dairy Farmers, It's Not
This is a classic case of a loophole, big
business capitalizing on any chance to improve the bottom line, and serious
unintended consequences. The impact of what
appeared to be a minor bureaucratic decisionis being felt in Canadian kitchens, food processing plants,and could do serious economic damage to
Canada’s dairy farmers.
A few years ago Federal officials were
trying to decide where so called “protein isolates” would fit into the stiff tariff
schedule that limits imports of cheaper dairy products like yogurt and cheese.
These high tariffs maintain the integrity of Canada’s supply management system that
tailors milk supply to Canadian demand using quotas, while assuring farmers a
fair price.Protein isolates are
essentially raw protein, like the whey protein used as a dietary supplement. Think
of whole milk with the fat and minerals stripped out.The bureaucrats decided the isolates are a
protein “substitute”, not necessarily a dairy product, so they come into Canada
tariff-free.No one paid too much
attention then,butslowly, over time, a trickle of cheaper
protein isolates, almost all from the United States,has become a tidal wave.Now Canada’s largest dairy processors like Parmalat, Saputo, and Agropur, are helping their bottom line by
using the cheaper protein in their cheeses and other dairy products. But it
doesn’t end there. The processors still need the fat from whole milk to mix
with the raw imported protein to produce their cheeses.This
is happening at the same time that dieticians and doctors are telling Canadians
it’s OK to eat butter again. So over the
last year butter, and butterfat, have
been in big demand, and for some, short supply.Farmers nationally have stepped up production by more than 7% on a
butterfat basis to meet the shortfall, but because there’s no additional demand
for the protein in the whole milk(usually made into skim milk powder), farmers aren’t paid the full cost
of production price for this additional milk, and a lot of the surplus skim
milk is being dumped or fed to livestock.
That’s unfortunate, but the more serious
impact I think is that it’s given the business media a fresh opportunity to attack
supply management. “Supply management
falls butter-side down”in the Globe and
Mail,and“Supply management is expensive, irrational —
and doomed” in i-Politics amongst others.What especially irritates me about these articles is that they blame
dairy farmers (and always the articles are accompanied by shots of Holsteins) for
lobbying to protect a “broken” system, when it’s large multi-national dairy
processors that have created the problem. There’s no benefit flowing back to dairy
farmers or consumers fromthe importation of this cheaper protein. The
only exception: Quebec farmer-owned
Agropur, shame on it, is one of 3 dairy processors who’ve publically stated
they use the imported protein.Parmalat,
owned by a large Italian dairy, and Saputo
by a Montreal family are the others. Most in the dairy industry say other big
processors are probably using the imports as well.
Here’s some better news. As Islanders, we
can celebrate the fact that PEI’s dairies, ADL and Purity, do not use this
imported protein.And let’s also enjoy
the world recognition ADL cheeses have received recently:ADL, using a recipe from Cows, produces the
Avonlea Clothbound Cheddar that won SuperGold at the World Cheese Awards in
Englandin late November. And ADL’s own
labeled cheddars won several awards at the British Empire Cheese Show in
Ontario in mid-November.I’m not an
expert, but maybe the fact that only PEI whole milk, rather than a tasteless
imported protein isolate, is used to make these cheeses had something to do
with these successes.
One more thing for consumers to watch for:
this symbol:
that says 100% Canadian milk.That’s your guarantee too that there’s no
imported protein.
Unfortunately for farmers the trade in protein isolates won’t end
quickly or easily. The U.S. dairy industry would launch a trade investigation
before the ink was dry on any new government regulation trying to control it. The big multi-national dairies themselves are
playing a game of economic chicken saying they’ll stop only if the others
do.As well they’re getting ready for
more competition from cheaper European cheeses if the big EU trade agreement is
ever ratified.Consumers really are the
only economic force that could convince the big dairies to do away with these
cheaper imports and stick with all-Canadian milk.On PEI at least that’s easily done, we just
have to buy local.
Arizona rancher LaVoy Finicum guards the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge on Tuesday, January 5, 2016, near Burns, Oregon. Photo by: Rick Bowmer/AP
On January 2, a band of armed militants—led by Cliven Bundy's son Ammon—stormed
Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Oregon, seizing the visitor center
both to protest the tangled legal plight of two local ranchers convicted
of arson on public land, and to defy the federal government's oversight
of vast landholdings in the West. (You might remember that Cliven
launched his own successful revolt against federal authorities in 2014
to avoid paying grazing fees on public land in Nevada.)
For all the slapstick comedy on display at the still-occupied government complex—rival militias arriving to "de-escalate" the situation, public pleas for donated supplies
including "French Vanilla Creamer"—the armed and angry men behind the
fiasco are pointing their rifles at a real problem. In short, the
ranchers who supply the United States with beef operate under
razor-thin, often negative profit margins.
It's not hard to see why grazing rights are an issue. Ranchers' struggle for profitability gives them strong incentive to expand their operations to increase overall volume and gain economies of scale. A 2011 paper by the US Department of Agriculture
found that the average cost per cow for small (20-49 head) operations
exceeded $1,600, while for large ranches (500 or more head), the average
cost stood at less than $400. Large operations are more efficient at
deploying investments in labor and infrastructure (think fencing), the
USDA reported.
To scale up, ranchers need access to sufficient land.
And in the West, land access often means obtaining grazing rights to
public land through the Bureau of Land Management. Hence the bitter
dispute playing out in Burns, Oregon: The ranchers accuse the federal
government of ruining their businesses through overzealous environmental
regulation of that public land.
Now, it's clear that what the Malheur militiamen
appear to be demanding—essentially laissez-faire land management based
on private ownership and overseen by local politicians—is a recipe for
ecological ruin. In a recent New York Timesop-ed,
environmental historian Nancy Langston described what happened last
time such a policy regime prevailed in the area: "By the 1930s, after
four decades of overgrazing, irrigation withdrawals, grain agriculture,
dredging and channelization, followed by several years of drought,
Malheur had become a dust bowl."
But the real beef that struggling ranchers should take
up with the federal government involves not zealous federal regulation,
but rather its opposite: the way the feds have watched idly as giant
meat-packing companies came to dominate the US beef production chain.
Ranchers run what are known as cow-calf operations—they raise cows up to
a certain weight on pasture, sell them to a feedlots to be fattened on
corn and soybeans (and otherstuff),
and from there the cows are sold to companies known as beef packers
that slaughter and prep the meat for consumers. As the University of
Missouri rural sociologist Mary Hendrickson points out, after a decade of mergers and acquisitions, just four companies slaughtered and packed 69 percent of US-grown cows in 1990. By 2011—after another spasm of mergers—the four-company market share had risen to 82 percent, Hendrickson reports.
Such consolidation at the top of the value chain gives
farmers less leverage to get a decent price for their cows. A market
dominated by a few buyers is a buyer's market. The Colorado rancher and
rural advocate Mike Callicrate
has been making this point tirelessly for years. Callicrate thinks the
Bureau of Land Management has been overly burdensome for ranchers in the
West, he tells me, but there's a bigger problem that is "rarely
mentioned" either by the gun-toting ranchers or the media covering them:
"the historically low, below break-even market prices for livestock."
As the big beef packers scaled up and consolidated
their market share in the 1980s and '90s, giant retailers led by Walmart
did the same. The result has been steady downward pressure on the beef
supply chain: The retail giants pressured the beef packers to deliver
lower prices, and the beef packers in turn pressured ranchers. The
result has been a big squeeze.
In the chart below that Callicrate created for a 2013 blog post, drawn from USDA data,
the trend is clear: Compared with 40 years ago, nearly a third less of
every dollar you spend on beef goes into the pocket of the rancher who
raised the cow.
Chart by Mike Callicrate
Under pressure from this squeeze, ranchers have had
little choice but to scale up or exit the business altogether—as tens of
thousands have done:
Chart: USDA
Rather than demanding unfettered access to public
land, the Malheur rebels could be agitating for federal antitrust
authorities to take on the beef giants. As the New America Foundation's
Barry C. Lynn has shown
repeatedly, since the age of Reagan, US antitrust regulators have
focused almost exclusively on whether large companies use their market
power to harm consumers by unfairly raising retail prices. Those
regulators have looked the other way when companies deploy their girth
to harm their suppliers by squeezing them on price. So antitrust
authorities okayed merger after merger, even when deals left just a few
giant companies towering over particular markets. As a result, writes
Lynn, "In sector after sector, control is now more tightly concentrated
than at any time in a century." The meat industry is a classic example.
During the 2008 election, Barack Obama vowed to
challenge the big meat packers and defend independent farmers and
ranchers from their heft. As Lina Khan showed in a 2012 Washington Monthly piece,
President Obama actually made a valiant effort to do just that—before
surrendering to a harsh counterattack from the industry's friends in
Congress.
The current presidential election would be an ideal
time for beleaguered ranchers to bring corporate domination of meat
markets back into the public conversation. Armed occupations of bird
refuge visitor centers won't help with that struggle.