Matt Gurney: Canadians won’t starve but we aren’t spoiled for choice in our domestic food supply
Matt Gurney
When they ran out of boys, they turned to the Farmerettes.
In
1944, with the Second World War grinding on, Ontario farms were
desperately short of labour. Ontarians had to eat, and millions of
calories were also needed overseas to stop Britain from starving and
keep Canadian and Allied divisions strong enough to fight. Food was an
essential war industry, and there weren’t enough workers.
High
school students were an obvious place to start — old and strong enough
to work in the fields, too young to fight. My grandmother wanted to join
in 1944, but they only took boys that year. The next year, with the war
nearly over but the need for labour more desperate than ever, it was
decided that girls could work the fields, too. My grandmother got her
chance. Barracked with other girls in Clarkson, Ont., near Oakville,
they would be picked up by farmers at their barracks each morning, work
hard in the fields all day, and be driven back. They were paid 25¢ an
hour and could hitchhike home to Toronto on weekends. To this day, she
recalls it as one of the best summers of her life — the work was
backbreaking and often bewildering to the city girls, but it was an
experience of a lifetime.
The COVID-19 pandemic has thrown
personal finances into disarray and threatens to devastate more
businesses, small and large, than we can possibly guess. But these
economic shocks also threaten the absolutely critical industries we need
to function not merely to support our prosperity, but our survival.
This isn’t about our standard of living, but living. And there is no
more essential industry than agriculture.
One of the great
triumphs of recent human history has been the gradual but fairly steady
reduction in the percentage of the total working population involved in
the production of food. As recently as 150 years or so ago, even the
most advanced countries could have had roughly half their productive
workers directly engaged in growing and processing food. Today, that
number is closer to two per cent. This is the foundation of our modern
technological society — the spectacular productivity gains per
agricultural worker have, over time, allowed millions of people to focus
their lives on other pursuits. Put another way, two per cent of North
American workers feed the other 98 per cent, who are then able to do
literally everything else you’ll find in our society.
Some of the
boosts in productivity relate to advancements in knowledge — the concept
of crop rotation being a prime example. But the productivity of our
relatively small number of agricultural workers depends on supplementing
their labour with massive external inputs in the form of advanced
machinery, fossil fuels, fertilizers, insecticides and tens of thousands
of temporary foreign workers (TFWs).
Watermelon and asparagus farmer Mike Chromczak, who is waiting for
labourers to arrive and begin their mandatory quarantine against
coronavirus disease (COVID-19), poses at Chromczak Farms in Brownsville,
Ontario, Canada April 2, 2020.Carlos Osorio/ReutersThe Farmerettes of the Second World War have been replaced
by as many as 60,000 foreigners who travel to Canada under temporary
work visas to assist in Canadian farms, fisheries and food processing
facilities. Weeks ago, as the Canadian government was essentially
closing our borders, an early report that TFWs would not be exempted led
to some actual panic among agricultural producers. These workers are
essential to our agricultural sector — as critical as the seeds or
fertilizers. The federal government quickly reversed course and said
they could come, subject to a 14-day isolation period, but there
continue to be reports of fewer than usual arriving, which makes sense,
given worldwide fear and disruptions to normal travel.
Could
Canadians do this work? Of course. My grandmother and her classmates
did, after all. But that would require mobilizing tens of thousands of
Canadians in a matter of weeks — planting isn’t far off. And these newly
mobilized Canadians would need time to learn the ropes, so efficiency
would suffer. They’d also demand high wages, which consumers would end
up paying for at grocery checkouts.
The TFWs are just one part of a
massively complicated supply chain that our food supply depends on — so
complicated that even experts struggle to fully understand it. Canada
is a major worldwide player in fertilizer production, for instance, but
many Canadian farmers still import theirs from abroad (often from the
U.S.), due to transportation costs, while much of Canada’s production is
sent to the U.S. Domestic production could be redirected to Canadian
fields, but that would require a major logistics effort, at a time of
year when railroad capacity and the commercial trucking fleet is already
in high-demand.
Snow crab is unloaded in Dartmouth, N.S. on Monday, Feb. 14, 2000.Andrew Vaughan /
THE CANADIAN PRESSNone of the above is particularly detailed, granted, because
in large part, the major industry associations and agriculture groups
are themselves only now gathering essential data and coming to fully
understand the possible dimensions of manpower and supply shortages,
combined with possible transportation disruptions. Imagine if a bunch of
railroad workers end up quarantined in a major logistics hub like
Chicago. Canada does produce more food than it consumes, so by that
metric, we could sustain ourselves, so long as we could continue to
access the needed agricultural inputs.
But the entire Canadian
agriculture sector, including food processing and packaging, exists in
what is (or perhaps, was) a thriving global marketplace that has made
fresh food affordable to millions at any time of the year. Ideally, that
global market will continue to thrive. But this pandemic has shown us
how vulnerable such systems can be. In an emergency, the best we can say
with certainty is that we could probably feed ourselves, but on a diet
that could potentially look very different than what we’ve been blessed
to enjoy of late.
Right now, we don’t know what that diet would
look like, or whether we could grow it, process it and package it, using
domestic resources and supplies. We may never have to — God willing we
won’t — but could we? Even the experts I’ve spoken to this week don’t
know. The most optimism any of them would express was that we’ll
probably be fine, if nothing else goes wrong. Super.
Man may not
live on bread alone, but bread is an awfully good place to start. Making
sure we have enough is going to be a top priority of governments in the
days and weeks ahead. Once we’re sure we’ll have enough, you can expect
a long, hard look at our system. Our food supply should never be
something Canadians ever have to worry about. But here we are.
National Post magurney@postmedia.com Twitter.com/MattGurney
I'm sure every community has a similar list. Good time to get close to local farmers:
PEI COPC Weekly Update ::: April 10, 2020
Weekly Update of PEI COPC Activities
Where and How to Source Local Organic Products
CRYSTAL GREEN FARMS
Every Saturday, you will find them at the Summerside
Farmer’s Market from 9-11AM and then from 12- 1 PM at the Charlottetown
Farmer’s Market parking lots for their weekly veggie box pick-up. They
will have a range of products for sale during these times as well. Check
out their website at: crystalgreenfarms.com or contact Brian
(902-314-3846) or Kathy (902-314-3823) directly if you are looking for a
specific volume or product or are interested in subscribing to their
veggie box program. EMMERDALE EDEN FARM
Arthur and Tina are set up to provide for your grocery needs at the farm gate
where they will have available all that they normally offer at the
Summerside Farmer’s Market. Call or email your order ahead at
902-436-5180 or emmerdaleorganics@hotmail.com . Check out their farm
Facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/eecof/
for an update on their weekly offerings. More information can be found
on their website: emmerdaleedenfarm.com This week, Tina is putting in a
bulk order from Speerville Mills a certified organic mill in New
Brunswick which offers a broad range of organic products. THE HANDPIE COMPANY
Sarah is offering a pre-order, pick-up service at the store in Albany.
Orders can be placed from the website here: handpie.ca Sarah takes
pride in sourcing local ingredients and all savoury flavours are made
with a flour mix that contains 40% of Crystal Green Farms organic
heritage Red Fife wheat flour. You can also contact the gang at the
Handpie Company on their Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/thehandpieco/?__tn__=%2Cd%2CP-R&eid=ARCKzLlYZ-JsHV99npGz0TeIe-KJ9P3h2z60ygpM_lEqAnpC3_OrwQ_aHfgrYJl0Chc0bXNHyP5Oh__M HEART BEET ORGANICS
Amy & Verena are offering a pre-order, pick-up service from their Farmacy & Fermentary storefront at 152A Great George Street in Charlottetown. Pick-up is on Saturday from 9 AM - 1PM and Wednesdays 3 -6 PM.
New items are added every week and feature products from their own farm
as well as Craig Potatoes, Emmerdale Eden Farm, Red Soil Organics,
Receiver Breadworks, Nature’s Route and Strawberry Hill Farm (in NB).
Following is the link to their order form: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfmRHc0jW1WU4fMS6lGgVDmE8AxyLB98cGIKEVgjdvnb-oy6A/viewform ONLINE FARMER’S MARKET – CHARLOTTETOWN
Several vendors from the Charlottetown Farmer's Market have launched an
online farmers' market with more vendors and products added every week.
Sign up to start receiving the up-to-date weekly offerings, here: mailchi.mp/maplebloomfarm/eatlocalpeiOrder by Wednesday at midnight for Saturday pick-up, from 4-7pmor$5 delivery fee in Charlottetown & Stratford. Look for certified organic products from: Crystal Green Farms,
Maple Bloom Farm, Schurman Family Farm and Springwillow Family Farm. Other PEI COPC members participating in the online market are Lucky Bee Homestead and Seaspray Farm Cooperative. Did you know
that both True Loaf and Receiver Bakery use certified organic flours in
their breads and pastries and both source ingredients from local
certified organic farms! RECEIVER BREADWORKS
Receiver Local is offering a pre-order, curbside pick-up service from their Brass Shop on Friday’s from 12-3PM. Delivery options also available. Visit their online ordering site here: https://receiverlocal.square.site/ Orders placed on Wednesdays for Friday fulfillment. RIVERVIEW COUNTRY MARKET
Pre-order for pick-up at the store in Charlottetown from their online store here: https://www.localline.ca/rcm
Trish and Rose and the gang have put together an amazing assortment of
locally sourced organic products and more are added weekly. Look for
Atlantic Grown Organics, Barnyard Organics, Crystal Green Farms, Heart
Beet Organics, Maple Bloom Farm, Red Soil Organics, Soleil’s Farm
products in season. SCHURMAN FAMILY FARM
In addition to their regular veggie boxes, Marc & Krista are now
offering an online service to order produce. Whether you are a current
veggie box member who just wants to buy more or you are a farmer’s
market shopper who is missing their greens or a brand new shopper
looking for a healthy local option, they have you covered. All orders
will be available for pickup at regular veggie box days in Summerside,
Kensington and Charlottetown. Check out their website for more info: https://schurmanfamilyfarm.ca/pei-veggie-boxes/ . Order by Wednesday for Thursday pick-up. SOLEIL’S FARM
Sign up today for Soleil’s Summer Food Basket: https://docs.google.com/…/1FAIpQLSfzPANqapblZbrtvQ…/viewform
Or visit her website for more information: https://www.soleilsfarm.com/find-our-veggies TRUE LOAF
Angel is offering a pre-order pick-up service, with pick-up at Gallant’s
Seafood (Superior Crescent) in Charlottetown on Wednesdays and
Saturdays. Contact Angel to place an order through her Facebook page at:
https://www.facebook.com/Millvaleangel/
For Sale - Certified Organic Fava Beans
Stewart MacRae has for sale certified organic fava beans for seed, food, or feed.
Contact Stewart at 902-628-7560 or stewartmacag@gmail.com.
Organic Federation of Canada Producer Survey
COVID-19 is impacting Canadian organic operations and we need to know and understand the types and levels of impact.
Please respond to the short survey by clicking on the following link –https://www.surveymonkey.ca/r/7536WM8
The information collected is being routinely shared with AAFC and CFIA.
Annual Wireworm Information Session - Webinar Lorraine MacKinnon provided the link below for the
Wireworm Webinar, in case you missed it the end of March. The
presentations were very informative. Following is the YouTube link for
the Wireworm Webinar; feel free to share it widely: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZpzJ_ZQ4U8
Charlottetown Farmers' Market
The Charlottetown Farmers' Market has suspended its operations due to
COVID-19. In the interim, several of Market vendors have crated online
ordering systems with pick-up and/or delivery options. Please visit www.charlottetownfarmersmarket.com for an up-to-date list of Market vendors offering pick-up/delivery options at this time.
Summerside Farmers' Market
For more information visit their Facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/SummersideFarmersMarket/
The doors may be closed but we still have product to sell!! Below you
will find a list of our vendors/producers who are ready and willing to
sell their products to you, in the safest manner possible. Please feel
free to reach out to them individually by phone, email or text. They’ll
provide you with a list of available items, prices and a pick-up
location. Please give our vendors time to get your orders ready. We ask
that you contact them no later than 9pm Thursday night. Thank you for
your cooperation!
................................
Apples and Cider
John Brady
Jb@Islandtelecom.com
902-831-2330
..........................
Eggs, potatoes and whole frozen chicken
Greg Stavert
Stavert Farm Market
Greg_keiths@hotmail.com
902-888-5784
........................,
Eggs, Veggies and meats
Crystal Green Farms
Brian and Kathy MacKay
Crystalgreenfarms@outlook.com
902-314-3823
........................
Meals to go, Sauerkraut, kimchi, bread, cookies, pies, muffins and gluten-free
Christine Schultz
Schultzec53@gmail.com
902-836-3403
.......................,,,
Cheese, Speerville Mills staples & pasta, herbs and spices, kombucha, seeds and produce
Emmerdale Eden Farm
http://www.emmerdaleedenfarm.com/
Emmerdaleorganics@hotmail.com
902-436-5180
......................
Chocolates, granola and caramel sauce
Hey Splendid
Heysplendid@gmail.com
Visit our Facebook page
..................
Frozen sausage rolls (with cooking instructions ) jars of chocolate, caramel, or lemon sauce
The Waffle Lady
Caitlin Davies
Caitlinbathsheba@hotmail.com
.........................
Micro greens and sprouts, free range eggs, dried cranberries and homemade dog treats
Our old Island market farm
Ouroldislandmarketfarm@gmail.com
902-303-3437
...........................
Schurmanfamilyfarm.ca
Schurmanveggiebox@gmail.com
Please email or go online to make an order or join our veggie box
................
pleasant pork
Text 902-432-9150
Pleasant pork will only be selling 50 lb boxes of pork at $350 each...supply is limited...expect a wait time
There's really no word that properly describes what we're all going through. Many are trying to sort out what it means to food production. At minimum it's huge uncertainty, a scramble for survival with supply chains disrupted. The Covid-19 pandemic has shutdown restaurants, including fast food restaurants, and that's meant an immediate loss of 30 to 40% of what had been a stable market for most farmers. Yes people are buying more to cook at home, and food wholesale and retailers are so far keeping shelves stocked, but for how long. And with this now Spring, farmers need to decide whether to plant for the current short market, or what might be there in the Fall. Who knows.
There's been a lot of writing about these issues. Here are a few.
From the Island Farmer by Petrie
This is A Moment to Think About the Future
I’m hoping by the time you read this that the fear and panic so many felt through March will have eased. Each of us has stories about helping and being helped, things we didn’t need to worry about, and things we should have considered.
I keep thinking about how different the feelings would be between consumers who have established on-going relationships with local farmers through community-supported agriculture (CSA’s) and/or farmers markets, and those who watched supermarket shelves quickly clear out, and wondered if new supplies would be available.
This isn’t a morality tale that letting Galen Weston decide where our food comes from is a mistake. I have grudging appreciation for a food system that can land Chinese garlic and Chilean fruit in a supermarket in Souris in the dead of winter, and how the retail supermarkets have kept up with unprecedented demand now. I have huge respect for the wholesale and retail workers, truckers, and so on who are expected to continue this essential service.
I do think that these extraordinary weeks (months?) give us a chance to appreciate the resources we have locally, rethink our responsibility as consumers to support all local producers and businesses, for their sake and ours.
Consider people living in big cities, the majority of Canadians now. Everything they need to survive from water, to energy, to food comes from somewhere else. Few have any idea where, or how it gets to them.
On PEI however we have a genuine opportunity to be closely connected to the people and resources that support our lives. The Water Act has given all Islanders a good understanding of the precious groundwater resources we rely on. Big wind turbines, and now solar panels produce increasing amounts of the energy we use. And our farms produce much of what we need and more. Could we rediscover the “Island way of life” so many older Islanders talk about, that sense of self sufficiency and reliance on neighbours and community. The next few weeks could well show us that we can. We may have no choice.
This critical relationship between consumers and farmers is thoughtfully explored in a timely new book called Food Security: From Excess to Enough by Ralph Martin. He used to head up the organic farming section at what was then the Nova Scotia Agricultural College in Truro. He retired recently from the University of Quelph.
Ralph Martin has a lifetime of research, teaching and writing on soils and food production and he’s become convinced that consumers have an essential role to create a new food system that improves people’s health, is fairer to farmers and by extension helps protect soils and the environment. He writes that agricultural research has focused almost entirely on growth and efficiency, driven by the idea that to feed 8 billion people farmers have to continually increase productivity and drive down costs. He argues that farmers are trapped in a system that squeezes them on production costs, and offers no reward in the market for sustainable farming practices.
Consumers he writes must lead the change, give farmers assured markets at fair prices, learn to cook again with fresh produce through the summer and fall, and preserve the harvest for the winter. They’ll be healthier, and farmers can start the soil building and sustainable farming practices that many want to do, but can’t because profit margins are so thin.
The book uses words not often heard in the food business, “Increasingly, I understand that if food security is to be realized, then food must be treated with respect.” Martin writes about “happy frugality”, obtaining an “adequate living without doing irreparable harm to the environment.”
Ironically the Covid 19 “social distancing” may give local famers and consumers a chance to establish a new kind of relationship that could continue once the pandemic is over. With the Charlottetown Farmers Market not operating consumers can now go to a webpage ( https://mailchi.mp/maplebloomfarm/eatlocalpei ) , see what suppliers have for sale, order, electronically pay, and then either have it delivered, or pick it up, without having to be close to anyone. Yes the social side of the market is lost, but this convenience might well establish new on-going relationships. That’s the thing, a fair priced market is a precious thing for farmers, and security of food supply will become increasingly important for consumers. This does both.
There’s something else that’s important in Ralph Martin’s book. Despite unrelenting urbanization everywhere in Canada, he says our future will be determined in the hinterland “… the future of civilization still hinges on the observations, relationships, and actions of engaged rural realists. It is mostly in rural areas that layers of leaves photosynthesize to convert sunlight energy, and where clean water and healthy soil are the foundation of food and fibre production. The 18 percent remaining in rural Canada support the rest of us in ways we are slow to appreciate.”
And we may well appreciate rural Canadians even more as we struggle with so much uncertainty in the months ahead.
COMMENTARY: Food security vital for a world in crisis
ROBERT CERVELLI, PHIL FERRARO & GREGORY HEMING
Recently, an Indiana man in his early 60s, in few words and
with tears, laid out the absolute sadness of COVID-19. “After 45 years
of marriage, my wife is dead, I am in quarantine. This is how it ends.”
The once unimaginable consequences of this pandemic are
upon us. Complicating matters even further is the unrelenting march of
climate change, with millions of displaced persons left alone to wander
on a planet that is too hot and getting hotter. Near-term societal
collapse is now a potential outcome. The simple fact is that humanity
has never had to endure the level of distress that now exists on the
planet.
Is this how it ends? Not necessarily. As COVID-19 explodes
worldwide, now is the time to begin planning for the inevitable global
social disruption surely to follow.
Just the other day, Salvatore Melluso, a priest at Caritas
Diocesana di Napoli, a church-run charity in Naples, Italy, spoke out.
“Now people are more afraid — not so much of the virus, but of poverty.
Many are out of work and hungry. There are now long queues at food
banks.”
Here in Atlantic Canada, indeed throughout the world, we
believe the road to stability and resilience, in light of both COVID-19
and the more complex consequences of climate change, begins with food
security.
Shelves have been emptied in many grocery stores over the
past few weeks as people realize the need to stock up on food in
preparation for isolation, transportation disruption and social
distancing. While toilet paper hoarding is the current joke, the run on
canned goods, flour, pasta, rice, sugar and many other basic staples is a
serious indication of the vulnerability of our current food system.
Many grocery stores typically carry only a three-day
inventory of food. Our food system is now almost entirely dependent upon
delivery trucks and distribution centres to keep running. Over the past
decades, our primary food chain has become little more than that — a
long-distance, just-in-time, import-delivery system.
COVID-19, and the related structural and economic fallout,
has quickly brought to the surface the utter fragility of our food
system. It is now in danger of failing altogether. If the countries we
rely on for many food imports, particularly Mexico and the U.S., fail to
control the spread of the virus, the scenario painted by Salvatore
Melluso is a certainty.
The good news is that food security is now becoming
mainstream. Interest in gardening has skyrocketed. There is clear
evidence that Atlantic Canadians are working quickly to plan for the
coming growing season and are either starting a garden or expanding the
one they have.
The old adage of the “Victory Garden” is back. These
gardens harken back to the First and Second World Wars as a way of
supporting the war effort through home gardening and local food
security. COVID-Climate Victory Gardens are essential and have arrived
in Atlantic Canada. Plant one. Join one.
There are clear signs that some of our municipal and
provincial governments are responding. Some have passed motions and set
policies around food security.
Local farmers have recently raised the immediate issue of
temporary foreign workers. Some 1,500 workers are needed in Nova Scotia,
400-500 in Prince Edward Island and 60,000 nationally. As travel
restrictions are imposed on all non-essential travellers, temporary
foreign farm workers are exempted. The federal government will allow
foreign workers in, but they must undergo a 14-day quarantine. Many may
not be willing to come here due to pandemic concerns for themselves and
their families.
Ironically, we now have many newly unemployed workers who
need paid work. Provincial governments should consider a wage subsidy,
in addition to current EI and other COVID-19 relief programs, to
encourage local residents to help farmers and minimize the risk of the
virus spreading due to foreign workers coming to the region.
In British Columbia, the government recently imposed
regulations set out to protect supply chains and ban the re-sale of food
(as well as medical supplies and personal protective gear). We strongly
suggest that our regional provincial governments prepare to impose
similar food price limitations at the wholesale and retail levels to
prevent price gouging in the event of shortages. They would do well to
consider additional support for food banks as an essential service to
sustain the families that need them. Without taking such bold measures
now, we may have to deal with the need for rationing in the event that
supply lines continue to fail.
Food self-reliance requires measures to ensure that farm
and garden supply stores remain open and their supply chains
functioning. Seed production and supply should be considered an
essential service.
This coming growing season is the right time to expand
agriculture extension services and horticultural training programs, and
to develop programs that emphasize best practices for food production,
including no-till agriculture. Government-backed guarantees on wholesale
food prices will also enable farmers to grow the food we need without
facing potential financial loss.
COVID-19 has taught both government and citizens that it is
urgent and essential to plan ahead for pandemics and climate change.
While our immediate personal and public health is job one, we also need
to begin preparing for greater control over our food supply.
It is all of us together who are ultimately responsible for
making healthy choices for our individual lives and for the lives of
our children, our grandchildren and our neighbours. We determine the
economic and ecological health of our communities. It is us who will
determine the future of the earth.
Robert Cervelli, executive director, Centre for
Local Prosperity, lives in Head of St Margarets Bay. Phil Ferraro,
director, Institute for Bioregional Studies Ltd. and agricultural
advisor, Centre for Local Prosperity, lives in Charlottetown. Gregory
Heming, president, Centre for Local Prosperity and Annapolis County
councillor, lives in Port Royal.
Food producers move to make just the basics during COVID-19 pandemic
By
Kathryn Blaze Baum
theglobeandmail.com
Food
manufacturers are limiting their production to their most popular items
in order to maximize volume and meet the skyrocketing demand caused by
the COVID-19 pandemic. As
Canadians self-isolate, eat more meals at home and stockpile
essentials, demand for some grocery items has been up by 400 per cent.
Major retailers, which typically stock on a “just enough, just in time”
basis, have struggled to replenish their shelves. Manufacturers
have responded by limiting their portfolios to just their most popular
items, allowing for the more efficient operation of their machinery and
production lines. In these unprecedented times, they are going back to
basics. During
the first week of April alone, the leader of a national purchasing
organization received messages from dozens of companies saying they are
concentrating their efforts on commonly sold items. “They’re
just trying to meet demand and provide something to eat,” said Denis
Gendron, the president of United Grocers Inc., which negotiates
purchasing agreements on behalf of various retailers who together
comprise one-third of the Canadian grocery industry. “They’re doing the
items they can do the fastest that are selling well.” While
many businesses have been shut down to slow the spread of the novel
coronavirus that causes COVID-19, food manufacturers are considered
essential services and are permitted to continue to operate. Ontario’s
Italpasta typically makes 63 types of pasta, but the company is
focusing on the top six cuts in its Tradizionale range of products:
spaghetti, spaghettini, penne, fusilli, elbows and lasagne. “We’re
running the spaghetti 24 hours a day,” said owner and president Joseph
Vitale. “People aren’t so fancy right now. They just want pasta.”
A couple of weeks ago, as the
possibility of the looming coronavirus pandemic began to settle in for
most Americans, many people started preparing to ward off the virus by
thinking about personal hygiene. Because advice about the efficacy of
hand-washing and personal sanitization came early, Americans invaded
big-box stores across the country to stock up on hand sanitizer,
disinfectant wipes, cans of Lysol, and, for some reason, bales and bales of toilet paper. Feeling ready to clean up after yourself is pretty easy.
Since
the nationwide run on Purell began, figuring out how to conduct
everyday life has gotten only more complicated. Canceled events, school
and office closures, and pleas from public-health officials to avoid
contact with others have started to change the rhythms of daily life,
and the omnipresent question of what to eat has taken on a new, moral
complication. Keeping yourself fed via the delivery services and grocery
stores that most Americans rely on is a necessary task that can’t
easily be completed while avoiding other people.
Nutrient-dense
fresh foods—the kinds people should ideally be eating when their health
is at stake—are expensive and go bad quickly. Not everyone has an extra
freezer, or the money to fill it. Some people just can’t cook for
themselves. If you’re not a person who keeps a stocked pantry, that’s
when confusion sets in: Is it safe to order delivery, both for you and
for the person bringing you food? Is it safe to go to a grocery store
that might be packed with panicked people? How do you support community
businesses while social distancing?
How do you lessen the burden that you put on people in service jobs?
It’s time for America to figure out how to feed itself during a
pandemic.
When
it comes to ordering in, the food itself is unlikely to be much of a
danger, according to Stephen Morse, an epidemiologist at Columbia
University. Even if the person preparing it is sick, he told me via
email, “cooked foods are unlikely to be a concern unless they get
contaminated after cooking.” He granted that “a salad, if someone
sneezes on it, might possibly be some risk,” but as long as the food is
handled properly, he said, “there should be very little risk.” Now might
be a good time to familiarize yourself with what your local health
department thinks of the food-handling practices of your favorite
restaurants.
The
danger of the delivery interaction, meanwhile, depends on how it’s
orchestrated. For the food’s recipient, the risk is relatively low,
Morse said: “There can be transmission through contaminated inanimate
objects, but we think the most important route of transmission is
respiratory droplets,” which spread when someone coughs, sneezes, or
even breathes in close proximity to others. As always, wash your hands
before you eat. (If you’re worried about other kinds of deliveries—mail
or online-shopping orders, for example—they’re also relatively unlikely
to transmit the virus, but you should still wash your hands after
opening them.)
Deliverers
themselves are much more likely to be exposed because of all the people
they encounter. Morse said the risk can be reduced for both parties if
recipients ask that food be left outside the door—or, ideally, if
restaurants mandate this practice to protect their employees. Customers
can also tip electronically or place cash outside before the delivery
arrives. In Wuhan, China, where the coronavirus outbreak began a few
months ago, many delivery drivers wore protective suits and masks, and
carried employer-provided hand sanitizer.
Ordering
takeout might seem selfish or cruel in this light, but according to Todd
May, a philosophy professor at Clemson University, the ethical calculus
isn’t quite so simple. He says that people should ask themselves a
couple of questions first, including whether the delivery worker will
travel alone by bike or car, and whether a mass exodus of delivery
business from the area will harm workers more than protect them. “It's
the responsibility of the person ordering food to try as best they can
to get a grip on that,” May wrote to me in an email.
The
places people order from make a difference too. A local restaurant is a
better choice than a start-up that sends gig workers with no
health-care benefits into crowded big-box grocery stores to fight over
dried beans on your behalf. The restaurant delivery person interacts
with fewer people, lessening his or her individual risk, and the money
you pay for the food goes toward keeping a restaurant’s staff employed
through a crisis. In Wuhan, local delivery drivers were the city’s lifeline during a lockdown that made venturing out for fresh food difficult.
Ditching
delivery to go to the grocery store isn’t necessarily a safer way to
stress-eat, for either individuals or service workers. “Crowded stores
would have a greater risk of infection, simply because of numbers of
people and density,” Morse, the epidemiologist, explained. Shoppers can
avoid some of this risk by dropping in at odd hours or patronizing less
popular stores. But the risk of exposure is still far greater for people
ringing up groceries than for people buying them, just like it is
higher for the delivery drivers bringing food to your door than it is
for you.
Many
Americans—and especially those with the means to order a lot of
delivered food—aren’t used to evaluating these risks to themselves and
others. “We’re being asked to think so much more socially than we’re
ever, ever asked to think,” says Steven Benko, a professor of religious
and ethical studies at Meredith College in Raleigh, North Carolina.
Delivery jobs rarely provide health insurance, and workers still need
money to buy Tylenol and cough syrup to control milder cases of
COVID-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus, or to seek help from an
urgent-care clinic. How much should someone tip to help a delivery
person afford medicine? “People’s health and their health care is
directly tied to their labor in this country,” Benko says.
He
also notes that keeping local delivery viable is helpful to people who
can’t cook for themselves because of a disability or an illness. In some
areas, requests for delivery are through the roof, which could reduce
availability for people who rely on food delivery. In any situation with
limited resources, the best choice is not to take more than you need,
whether that’s the last four packages of disinfectant wipes at Target or
the time of a busy delivery driver.
In
the United States’ industrialized, centralized food system, for most
people no perfectly ethical options exist for eating during a pandemic.
But Benko hopes that diners will take as many precautions to safeguard
workers in their community as they do to protect themselves, and that
they’ll remember how essential service and delivery workers were to
their survival once the worst has passed. “We’re so connected to each
other and reliant on people working in the background, but we don’t even
see who keeps the shelves restocked, or who brings things” to us, he
says. “People only become visible to us in the perception that they
could harm us, as opposed to becoming visible to us in the fact that
they’re taking a risk to their health by being helpful to us.”
Pipelines and energy policies get most of the attention on why Western Canada is so at odds with the rest of Canada. I think there is more to this story. There was a good piece in the National Observer this week on urban-rural issues. I'd had a stab at this issue in October before the federal election.
A Canada apart: why rural Canadians rejected the things urban Canadians voted for (mostly)
By
Alastair Sharp
nationalobserver.com
"We're watching communities die, we're watching industry die," Saskatchewan grain farmer Megz Reynolds told National Observer. "That was the fear that drove so many people to the polls."
Canada’s federal election in
mid-October laid bare fractures between different parts of the country -
resurgent separatists in Quebec joined by disgruntled provinces out
west. And that division out in the prairies seemingly only got
worse once the votes were counted. Talk of western separation and Wexit
followed the new minority Liberal government back to Ottawa.
But one of
the biggest (and perhaps hardest to solve) fractures the vote exposed
was not just between east and west or between Quebec and the rest of
Canada, but between urban and rural voters. National Observer has since
taken a closer look at some of the reasons for the divide between city
and small town, urban dweller and farmer. To do that we went digging
through data, we went talking to farmers, and we went looking for
academics working outside of the urban context, where questions about
the federal carbon tax, pipelines and the oil and gas industry, gun
control and agriculture are perceived very differently than in cities.
What emerged were signs of deep frustration that rural
concerns are largely ignored in the country's political discussion,
which typically panders to a more urban way of thinking.
Many of the country’s least
dense ridings voted Conservative last month, with Andrew Scheer’s
promise to cancel the Liberal carbon tax attractive to farmers and other
voters in rural areas where Ottawa's price on pollution pinches hardest
— those who cannot traverse the distances they need to navigate without
an automobile.
"It's harder in rural areas to make the changes they're hoping that people make to their everyday lives by having a carbon tax," said Reynolds, whose family works 2,100 acres of grain land in southwestern Saskatchewan.
Reynolds grew up in Calgary and has worked in the film
industry there and in Vancouver. She said she no longer has the easy
options available in cities to alter her behaviour based on higher
prices for activities that generate more pollution.
"Where I live right now, if I want to go to a hospital
or to get my eyes checked or to get my teeth cleaned, I'm driving for
an hour," she said. "If I want to go to a Costco, I'm driving for two
hours."
Megz Reynolds on a piece of machinery at her family's farm in southwest Saskatchewan. Photo by Megz Reynolds
(The federal environment plan that returns carbon-tax revenues to taxpayers does provide
an extra 10 per cent supplement for residents of rural and small
communities, in recognition of their increased energy needs and reduced
access to alternative transportation options.)
Rural voters have very different
preoccupations than urban ones, farmers and academics say, and in
Canada's federal election last month they were largely ignored.
@5thEstate reports
While fuel for farm machinery is exempt from the
carbon tax, that for grain dryers is not, she said. And the machines,
necessary to remove moisture from product in inclement weather, have
been used a lot in her part of the country this year. It's an extra cost
that can be hard to stomach.
"We're watching communities die, we're watching
industry die," Reynolds said. "That was the fear that drove so many
people to the polls."
Yet while politicians invested
most of their attention on the campaign trail on issues affecting city
dwellers and their suburban brethren, those in more remote ridings got
short shrift.
“Rural has become a forgotten
place at election time,” said Roger Epp, a professor of political
science at the University of Alberta. He excluded Quebec from his
comments, given a closer regard for rural concerns in the mostly
French-speaking province than elsewhere in the country. “By default,
rural has become part of the Conservative party camp at election time,
but I think even there, they're taken for granted most of the time,” he
said.
The Conservatives won 121
ridings with an average density of 423 people per square kilometre. That
compares with an average density of more than 2,000 people per square
kilometre in the 157 Liberal-held seats and almost 1,900 in the 24 NDP
seats. (The national average density per riding is 1,418.)
The lesson that Jane Rabinowicz from SeedChange drew from the election result was two-fold.
"The Liberals can't afford to ignore the Prairies," the executive director of the Ottawa-based sustainable farming NGO said. "And the Conservatives can't ignore climate change."
She said
government policy, both federally and provincially, should be focused on
ways to reduce agricultural emissions by encouraging better farming
practices, improve the insurance and risk management profiles of farms
to account for climate change-related impacts, and to actively encourage
a younger generation of sustainable farmers to enter the profession.
Canada's federal electoral riding results in 2019 election by population density. Graphic by Marc Baumgartner
A map of election results in southern Ontario
shows Conservatives won seats across rural areas, but lost across
Toronto, in Ottawa, London, Kingston and Windsor. Map by CBC News
Independent versus interdependent
Urban social organization came
from “modernity and capitalism” and resulted in an "interdependency
where each person is invested in the other’s welfare," said Sandeep
Agrawal, an urban and regional planner at the University of Alberta.
Rural areas, on the other hand,
are more independent. “There is a lot of mutual trust that happens,
they look after each other and things like that, but they are a little
bit more independent as to how they want to live their life, and that is
what is reflected in how they look at the rest of the world,” he said.
The Liberals and NDP have also tended to align with a view of urban centres as sites of innovation, which can present as akin to disdain of smaller places, said Richard Shearmur, the director of McGill University’s School of Urban Planning.
“They feel comfortable in
looking down upon people who rely on oil and gas... because those ideas
are reinforced by the cultural elites, who are often located in these
very dense neighbourhoods,” said Shearmur,
who has spent significant time in rural and remote communities across
eastern Canada studying their economic development opportunities.
“It is very stylish in the centre
of cities to be terribly pro-climate... to be very proud of the fact
that you walked to your grocery store, forgetting that your groceries
have all been imported from miles away, so actually your carbon
footprint is probably not as low as you think it is,” he said.
Epp
said rural people don’t oppose climate action. He said they feel the
effects of climate change first-hand, but are also dealing with rising
costs (many of them hydrocarbon-related) and could do with their
economic interests being understood and taken into consideration.
“In people's guts, they know that there's something going on, but I think people feel like they're being lectured to,” he said.
Reynolds agrees, and says the tone of climate alarmism has raised the ire of some rural folk, including herself.
"I think the way that we've chosen to talk about the environment has been limiting to the conversation," Reynolds said. "And I have issues with the fact that right now the Green party, the NDP, their stance is basically to turn around and yell that the sky is falling."
The carbon tax is an easy target, but voting isn't always and only about money and taxes. Gun
control also looks different in a rural setting, Agrawal and others
said, since gang violence is far less prevalent than the need to put
down an injured farm animal or scare off a larger animal.
Grain and machinery seen on Megz Reynolds' family farm in southwest Saskatchewan. Photo by Megz Reynolds
What farmers want
Keith Currie farms soybean,
wheat and rye near Collingwood, on the southern edge of Ontario’s
Georgian Bay. He’s also vice-president of the Canadian Federation of
Agriculture, a farming advocacy group representing 200,000 Canadian farm
families.
He says farmers are frustrated
that agriculture’s efforts to respond constructively to climate change
are not recognized (pasture land does sequester carbon, after all) and
feel they are unfairly treated in two ways when it comes to climate
change policy: first, by paying “disproportionately more than our urban
cousins” on the carbon tax, and then missing out when the proceeds
raised are largely funneled into urban infrastructure.
“We're looking for them
(federal politicians) to work with us and how we can enhance the
government's initiatives on climate change,” he said. RBC’S Farmer 4.0 report
from August estimated that agriculture could add $11 billion to
Canada's annual gross domestic product by 2030 (bringing its total
contribution to an estimated $51 billion, up from $32 billion today),
but must deal with a skills squeeze and invest heavily in technology.
"If I didn't have to put any
more fuel in my tractor to get my work done, I'd be a happy camper
because I would have more money in my pocket," Currie said, adding that
electric farm vehicles, currently in the prototype stages, are perhaps
10 years away from commercial viability.
“It's not like we're trying to spend as much money as we can on fuel to burn it in a combustion engine to pollute the earth.”
Canadian farmers are already
struggling, with net farm income down by more than half from $8.1
billion in 2017 to $3.9 billion in 2018, according to Statistics Canada.
“I have a societal responsibility,” Currie said. “But if I go bankrupt doing it, who benefits?”
Currie said farmers want
Ottawa’s support when factors outside their control — trade spats with
other countries, or increasingly common extreme weather events — affect
their livelihoods.
China has banned imports of Canadian soybeans, canola, pork and beef this year in response to Canada’s arrest of Huawei CFO, Meng Wanzhou. The United States wants to extradite the executive of the Chinese telecom company.
That international political spat leaves Canadian farmers in a bind.
“What do we do with that product?” Currie asked rhetorically.
He said both the Liberals and
Conservatives gave only vague assurances they would consider reform of a
business risk-management system known as AgriStability, which he called ineffective and unpopular.
Currie added that federal
outreach to rural communities could start with delivering long-promised
high-speed broadband and cellular service for everybody.
“We have lots of people that
are still on dial-up across the country,” he said, pointing out that
combines, tractors, sprayers and other farm machinery now include
cellular modules that require robust connections that don’t exist in
many rural areas.
A 2016 study from Ottawa’s advisory council on economic growth also identified agriculture as a potential source of growth. The report — led
by Dominic Barton, McKinsey global managing partner and now ambassador
to China — called for investment to fix lagging transportation
infrastructure and food processing capacity to push Canada up the
ag-food value chain.
So there is scope to improve the rural lot, whether
it's by improving internet connections, more aggressively supporting
farmers in trade spats or even by crediting them for the climate action
they do take.
Reynolds said margins in agriculture these days don't provide farmers, whom she called the "original
environmentalists," the breathing space to independently innovate. She
echoed Currie's call for farming's role in keeping carbon contained to
be rewarded.
She said those who live in Canada's cities and in its
small towns could work on narrowing the divide by making a concerted
effort to "get outside of our bubbles, and try to know what affects
other people."
She said rural people need to hear that message too,
"because you don't have a divide if most people are not kind of pushing
away from the other or not understanding the other."
Oct 8 - Petrie in Eastern Graphic, Montague, PEI, Canada
Urban-Rural Divide Getting Wider
Islanders live more closely together than anyone else in Canada. We can almost see the countryside from a 3rd story window in downtown Charlottetown. But there are differences in how rural and urban Canadians see the world, differences political parties try to exploit as we get ready to vote.
Federally PEI continues to feel the effects of an election more than thirty years ago that really did offer a much starker choice than what we face now. In 1988 it was Conservative Brian Mulroney’s Free Trade Agreement that divided the nation. The Liberals staked their campaign on defeating the deal and had powerful campaigners here on PEI. A very popular Joe Ghiz used his passion and fiery rhetoric to argue against it, and influential business people like John Robinson, well respected in the Island’s potato industry, made the case that “real” free trade would be good for PEI, but that this deal left all of the trade remedy laws American businesses use to harass Canadian producers in place. Beef and pork producers, lumber mill operators and others have all been subject to trade investigations and penalties by the Americans in the years since the FTA was signed. In 1988 the Liberals won all 4 seats on PEI, and other than the very popular Conservative Gail Shea winning twice in Egmont in 2008, 2011, PEI has sent Liberal MP’s to Ottawa in 8 subsequent elections (Stephen Harper certainly helped). The Liberal victories haven’t always been overwhelming, and no one quite knows what spillover there will be from the Green’s success in the last provincial election.
Despite this anomaly it’s beyond cliche that rural areas nationally lean Conservative. It’s something that’s always interested me as a city boy who’s lived most of my adult life in rural areas in Alberta, Ontario, New Brunswick, and PEI. Cultural and religious differences explain some of it but I think there’s something else at play. Urban Canadians ( the vast majority now) are completely removed from the production of almost everything that keeps them alive: water, food, gas and heating oil, and so on. They like the idea of an active government having lots of rules and regulations to ensure that the producers of these essentials are doing it properly. Rural Canadians feel something different, that urban consumers live in a kind of Potemkin village where meat comes on styrofoam trays, milk in plastic jugs, and heating oil in bright shiny trucks. They feel that none of the hard work and dirty hands that produced these goods is understood or recognized. These rural producers don’t want government red tape making it any more difficult, and conservative leaning parties cater to this. In the U.S. this has lurched into the so-called populism that’s become so corrosive and dangerous. For the most part Canada has avoided this, but as urbanization continues, even here on PEI, rural Canadians risk feeling even more isolated and misunderstood. Events like the recent Farm Day in the City certainly help, but the need to fight to save local schools, the fallout from the Municipal Government Act, even the recent fishkill trials, add to the sense of marginalization.
There are some election promises that help bridge this gap. Last June the Liberals introduced a national food policy that at least started the conversation about reducing food insecurity for about 4 million Canadians. It would also give Canadian farmers more secure markets. Both the NDP and Greens have promised a national school lunch program which makes a firm link between local farmers and the food in front of school kids, many who come to school hungry. It’s a relationship that won’t be forgotten, and if the produce and meat is priced fairly would be important for farmers too.
All parties (except Mad Max) have committed to maintaining supply management, with the Liberals now acknowledging that dairy producers were the ones who made sacrifices to get the renewed NAFTA. There was what sounded like a firm promise that more marketshare won’t be bargained away in future trade negotiations.
I would have liked to have seen some discussion about carbon credits going to farmers and other land owners for maintaining permanent pastures and leaving trees standing. There are jurisdictions that do this, and it would be another chance to acknowledge the positive role many rural Canadians can play sacrificing income now to soak up C02 emissions that we’re all responsible for.
They say that politicians campaign with poetry, and then must govern with prose. We haven’t heard a lot of poetry this time around, instead a lot of negativity and accusations. If as many predict there’s a minority government elected then the results for the Greens, NDP, and Bloc will be critical. Canada has weathered this kind political division before, in fact had some of its most productive parliaments ever when some co-operation was required.
Demographics, like death and taxes, is relentless, and the pull of people to urban centres continues. Political parties that recognize the importance of not forgetting those remaining in rural areas, many doing the heavy lifting, will get my vote.
I wish I were as good a writer as Joanne Will. She wrote an excellent article for the Globe and Mail about her family's last harvest in south western Saskatchewan. She really captured the heart and soul of the family farm, and the challenge for the medium sized farm that's been the backbone of farming there and in the Maritimes. These are farms that aren't as heavily capitalized as big corporate operations, but are much bigger than the smaller businesses that sell at farmers markets. Because of their scale they do have to compete in international markets with all of the uncertainty that comes with that. They are also farms that have been slowly losing money for years, while the equity they built up kept them in business.
Joanne Will uses enough facts and figures to support her story, but mixes it with all of the intangibles that economists never get, like the role these farms play in rural communities, and the basic local knowledge that farmers carry around.
It's a sad story in some ways, and I really worry that the terrible harvest on PEI might push a few more farm families like this to call it a day. If that happens we're all the worse for it.
Joanne Will is a
journalist based on Vancouver Island. She has been a regular contributor
to The Globe and Mail since 2009. In 2014, she was a Knight-Wallace
Journalism Fellow at the University of Michigan.
In August, my
stepfather, Gord Will, announced that this fall would be his last
harvest. At 72, and with each of those years spent on the vast
agricultural plains in the rural municipality of Wheatlands, near the
village of Mortlach in southwest Saskatchewan, he is putting away his
combine and his grain trucks, his tractors and granaries, his auger,
swather, cultivator, baler, sprayer and seeder.
Gord’s fleet of
equipment, some of it dating back to the 1960s, is in solid working
condition, and each piece carries untold memories. Sentimentality aside,
the machinery and implements can be sold, rented, lent or gifted to
other grain, pulse, oilseed, hay and forage farmers. It will live on, so
long as it is found useful, and so long as someone tends to it with the
same meticulous care that he has.
But what of Gord’s
accumulated and intimate knowledge of more than 2,000 acres of prairie
pasture and cropland, including significant wetlands and wildlife
habitat, cared for throughout his lifetime? Or his keen observations of
the weather and changing climate in this semi-arid region of the Great
Plains known as Palliser’s Triangle? And his lifetime of experience and
understanding of what has increasingly become the “business” of farming?
And what of the community that counts on him, and others like him, to
be its lifeblood?
My stepfather is not the last farmer, but he represents the last of a certain type. The family farm is disappearing.
When you think of
farming, you may well picture the industrial-scale factories and
megafarms that produce the lion’s share of what you’ll find for sale at
your local supermarket. Or you may think of the truly small-scale
operations whose proprietors sell their hand-picked wares at farmers’
markets.
But in fact, there’s
another size of operation, one that sits in the middle of those two
extremes. Owned and operated by families firmly linked to the local
community, medium-sized family farms are big enough to supply
significantly more food than the vendors you’ll meet at those
Saturday-morning booths staffed by a farmer who operates an acre or two.
And yet they manage to
be much better for the land, for rural communities and, I’d argue, for
the health of Canada, than are outfits run by large corporations or
land-owning investors who either hire their own managers or lease out
their land to those who work it.
My stepfather’s final
harvest has reminded me that the family farm is home to one of the most
important and noble jobs on the planet – one that involves working with
one’s neighbours and with the land, all in the name of feeding a lot of
people you will likely never meet face to face. When families own the
land, that is what they do.
The loss of any family farm is, in my eyes, nothing less than a tragedy. For all of us.
Farming in the blood
Gord is a wellspring of
information and of history that originates long before his birth, and
that was passed on by elder farmers in fields and coffee shops, in
grain-elevator lineups and at farm-supply stores and community
gatherings. Such history was also transmitted at home, by his father,
James Will, who emigrated to Saskatchewan from Scotland in 1921 at the
age of 19.
Gord was only 10 when
his father died of cancer. But the young boy was surrounded by family
and community, including uncles and several neighbouring farmers who
showed him the ropes. In the spring of 1965, the year after he graduated
from high school, Gord planted his first crop. “There was never any
time I can remember that I had any notion of doing anything else,” he
told me recently, as we walked one of our favourite fields in the
undulating Coteau Hills. “I remember going to the circus with my dad,
and the main thing I was interested in was how much horsepower the
elephants had.”
My mother, Nora, moved
to Mortlach while I was a toddler, in the late 1970s, after she and Gord
married. A 30-minute drive west of Moose Jaw, this is where they had
three more children: twin girls and a son. Although Gord grew up on what
we call “the home farm” – the three quarter-sections of land south of
Mortlach that his father bought after working for several years at a
nearby ranch – our family always lived in the village (current
population 261) in view of the K-to-12 school.
When Gord and my mother
started their family, things were booming. They paid cash for the house
they built in 1978, and worked hard to acquire more farmland and the
tools needed to work it. I remember well the fall of 1983 and the
arrival of Gord’s first four-wheel-drive tractor. Back then, he always
had a full-time hired hand from spring until fall, through the busy
seeding and harvest seasons. At harvest time itself, an assortment of
other help would show up: relatives whose jobs were far from the land,
and a farming friend and neighbour or two who had finished their own
work. Everyone pitched in before the frost and snow arrived.
My mother would make
dinner for the crew. Along with pots of meat and vegetables, Thermoses
of steaming tea and coffee, trays of pies and other desserts, she’d pack
us kids in the car, a dust trail following us down the gravel roads to
the field being worked that day. It was our nightly ritual from late
August to early November.
At our destination, we’d
spread two or three heavy wool blankets and quilts over the golden
stubble and dirt, unfold stools and lawn chairs, and unpack the meal.
The men would pull up in their harvest equipment, and while they ate, we
played in the grain truck box, chewing mouthfuls of wheat kernels until
they transformed into wads of whole-wheat “gum.” (I’m obliged to
mention that today, playing in grain trucks, whether empty or loaded, is
discouraged by farm-safety experts.)
The seeds of calamity
Then came the one-two
punch of sharply rising interest rates and plunging commodity prices.
Inflation-fighting rates that soared to nearly 22 per cent in 1981
stubbornly remained in the double digits for the best part of a decade,
making land-mortgage payments hugely difficult, and sometimes
impossible, to meet. By the summer of 1986, meanwhile, the price of
wheat – the dominant crop then grown in the Prairies – dropped by more
than 50 per cent from where it had stood in the fall of 1980.
And as if those economic
demons were not trouble enough, a drought rivalling that of the Great
Depression descended on the Prairie provinces in the early eighties.
Although it let up for a spell mid-decade, it came roaring back in 1987
and held firm through ’89, packing its hardest punch in 1988, the single
driest year in two decades.
In 1988, roughly 10 per
cent of farm workers left agriculture. Crops were so poor – virtually
non-existent in some areas – that Gord didn’t even take his combine out
of the Quonset hut. That fall and winter, he had to find work elsewhere
to support our family and farm: He left for the oil rigs on the
Saskatchewan-Alberta border, returning just in time to join Christmas
dinner with the extended family in Moose Jaw.
As with the Depression
of the thirties, the recession of the 1980s eventually ended; but it was
long enough that many farmers had to let go of precious land for which
high mortgage payments had become untenable. Land prices plummeted; it
would be more than 20 years before they fully bounced back.
And there were new
challenges to come. For those who survived, such as Gord, the industrial
revolution of farming began to really take off: more mechanization,
more chemicals, ever more costly equipment, constant consolidation. The
pressure built, in the mantra of the time, to “get big or get out.” On
some levels, this created efficiencies. But on many others, something
important was lost.
Just as Gord didn’t
foresee the downturn of the 1980s, we four children never envisioned,
from within the landscape of our youth, the realities of agriculture
today: sky-high land prices; farms comprising many thousands of acres;
an explosion of technology, including tractors with GPS and automated
steering; and maximum farm-credit loans reaching sky-high levels.
The most recent Canadian
Census of Agriculture, in 2016, tells much of the story. Between 2011
and 2016, the value of all farm machinery and equipment, owned and
leased, increased more than 15 per cent, to $54-billion. Agricultural
land and buildings increased in value by more than a third, to
$428-billion. In the same period, the total value of the largest
category of tractors grew a stunning 50 per cent, to $9.4-billion,
accounting for more than half the value of all tractors.
Farming has become a case of survival of the fittest. Or more accurately, the biggest.
One result of this
relentless shift: Fewer farmers are “required.” In 2016, 193,492
agricultural operations were counted nationwide, down roughly 6 per cent
from 2011, while the size of farms (once again) increased.
It is, in many ways, an
old story. In Saskatchewan alone, between 1911 and 2016, the number of
farms dropped by 64 per cent, even as the amount of total farmland more
than doubled. And over that century, the size of the average farm
sextupled – from 295 acres to 1,784 acres. And where will it end?
“One day, and it’s not
too far off, there won’t be any people out there farming the land,” Gord
predicts. “In some ways, I’m glad I’m finishing before that happens.”
This isn’t science fiction: Small autonomous tractors, just like
driverless cars, are already being introduced at agricultural shows.
As a country, we’re the
world’s fifth-largest exporter of agricultural commodities – even as
fewer than 1 per cent of us operate farms.
But a robot driven
solely by the corporate profit motive cannot smell the soil it is
tilling. It does not feel in its very core the need to preserve that
soil for future generations. And the only meal it presents you with is
one produced at the lowest possible cost, using the cheapest possible
inputs, grown on industrial-sized fields. Your health, and the health of
the community in which you live, will not be the driver of this kind of
food production. The stock market, with its eye on instant
gratification for investors, will be.
We will no longer have any farmers at all – only “food production.”
‘It’s not a healthy system’
The average Canadian
farmer is 55 years old. The next generation, those under 35, represent
fewer than 10 per cent of farmers. And the future for them does not look
bright. Only one in 12 farms nationally has a formal succession plan.
Saskatchewan – the
province with the largest area of field crops, the largest average farm
size and the most (relatively) affordable land – is a microcosm of
what’s occurring in the rest of the country. The average value of land
and buildings in the province (about $1,200 an acre) increased 76 per
cent from 2011 to 2016. And yet, that’s still less than half the
national average (almost $2,700 an acre), which increased close to 40
per cent over the same period.
At today’s prices, apart
from taking over an existing family operation – itself a daunting
prospect, given the competitive pressures kindled and stoked by Big
Agribusiness – how can a new farmer ever afford to get started?
Gord’s first tractor, a
used model, cost $1,700. His next, also second-hand, was $7,500. His
third, a brand-new 1976 model, was $17,000 when he ordered it; due to
high demand, by the time it arrived at the dealership, the price had
shot to $22,000. Sound like a lot? Today a new combine can run up to
$750,000. Altogether, a combine, seeder, tractor and sprayer can run
from $1.5-million to $2-million and even higher.
Interest rates are
relatively low these days. But what happens if you’re highly leveraged
and rates go up, as they did in the 1980s? “You’d pretty much have to
turn and run,” Gord says.
Gord himself has
witnessed a fourfold increase in crop production in his lifetime. Yields
per acre have doubled thanks to better technology, not to mention new
seed varieties, pesticides and fertilizers – and thanks, as well, to
more land being constantly pressed into service: Summerfallow –
alternately working a field one year, then leaving it to rest the next –
is no longer widely practised. “In a good year now, 40 to 45
bushels-to-the-acre crops are common,” my stepfather says, while “in the
old days, if someone had a 30-bushels-to-the-acre crop, people would
drive to that field just to see it.”
But grain prices have
not kept pace with the increasing costs of production. The price of
wheat is roughly the same today as it was in 1980. In addition to
weather, farmers are at the mercy of world markets and a system of
transportation over which they have no control. To make matters worse,
the farmer’s share of the food dollar has sharply declined. To afford
the inputs and equipment “required” to farm, you need to produce a lot.
And to do that, you need to cover a lot of land.
On balance in Canada, we
don’t have anything approaching the level of subsidies that European
and American farmers receive. In fact here, it seems, farmers themselves
subsidize agriculture: More than one-third of Saskatchewan farmers
depend on a second, non-farm job for extra income. And still they
struggle to balance the books. Farm cash receipts doubled between 1996
and 2016 – but farm debt increased 3.5 times. In 1996, cash receipts
exceeded the debt load, but in 2016, that reality had reversed itself:
Farm debt exceeded cash receipts by a factor of 1.6.
“You just look at the
economics of the whole thing and you know it’s not right,” says Kent
Mullinix, director of the Institute for Sustainable Food Systems at
British Columbia’s Kwantlen Polytechnic University and an adjunct
professor at UBC. “It’s not a healthy system.”
Today, even as I
ardently assert the importance of the Canadian family farm, I’m the
first to admit that I’m in no position to take over ours. Nor are my
siblings.
My brother, James, a
father of three who manages a city-government parks-and-recreation
department in Alberta, has at least given it more thought than his
sisters. But they have, on the whole, been sobering thoughts. As a teen,
during those difficult 1980s, he wanted only to insulate himself from
the uncertainties of farming. He describes an imaginary ad campaign of
the era: “Hey, all this could be yours someday: the drought, the
astronomical interest rates, the debt, the grasshoppers!”
Today, he runs through
staggering numbers as he outlines the money he’d need to run the family
farm. And those numbers do not add up to anything he could feasibly
manage. Family farming is in our blood, but our wallets tell us to turn
the other way.
Losing history
In 1986, just 2 per cent
of farmland in Canada was rented. Today, more than a third of all
agricultural operations rent or lease some of the land they work. Among
Canadian farmers under the age of 35, half of the land they tend is
rented. On the one hand, we have absentee landlords; on the other, the
farmers who are, effectively, their employees, even when they live on
the land.
In the world of family
farmers such as Gord, a “good” farmer works to be sustainable – not only
financially, but ecologically: You must look after the land, the future
health and viability of your soil. But in the world of corporate
agriculture, farms get worked to within an inch of their life.
When we see only the
bottom line, we lose sight of the need to nurture the land. And to
nurture, as well, human relationships, and the accompanying human
values, that are tied to the land: those involving our family, our
neighbours and their families, and the broader community – all the
things that ownership, and a local multiplicity of family-sized farms,
have long led to.
In the words of American
farmer and environmental activist Wendell Berry, the “contest between
industrialism and agrarianism now defines the most fundamental human
difference, for it divides not just two nearly opposite concepts of
agriculture and land use, but also two nearly opposite ways of
understanding ourselves, our fellow creatures and our world.”
I’m not arguing for a
wholesale return to the old days of back-breaking work unaided by
technological advances, but rather for a renewed awareness of our
collective future – one that includes incorporating values of
stewardship, both for the land and for the culture of community that
family farms nurture. Large-scale farming has a place in this future,
but we must weigh its costs against its benefits.
In Gord’s youth, the
village of Mortlach had an array of businesses, including a butcher, two
grocery stores, three implement shops, a livery and a lumber yard. At
one time, the village even had two banks and a weekly newspaper.
They’re all gone now.
There were also five
grain elevators. Today, just one stands – and it’s closed. All the grain
in the surrounding area is trucked to Moose Jaw, consolidated in four
“high-throughput” elevators, the newest of which can fill up to 147
grain cars in a single day.
In 1964, when Gord
graduated from Mortlach’s only school, it was home to more than 300
students. “Remember when we attended in the eighties and early
nineties?” my sister Janice asked me a while back. “There were eight
buses sitting out front of the school each day.” Now, says Janice, who
lives in the area and whose boys go to school there, “there’s just
three.” With only 75 students from kindergarten to Grade 12, there are
no longer enough kids to form viable sports teams. Another tradition,
and all that comes with it, is lost.
Or consider this: Our
family has always called each piece of land by the name of its previous
owner – Harley’s, Percy’s, Nicholson’s. Some of these people have been
gone now for many decades. But Gord still carries the history and
knowledge of the peculiarities of each parcel that those families passed
on. We’ll be the last generation who can name those fields, my brother
reminds me. And then he asks me: Who will remember, protect or even
appreciate the ancient tepee ring and buffalo jump that border the
Coteau Hills field, just a few kilometres from our home farm, that we so
love?
“When it comes to land,
if you lose the memory, the stories and knowledge of the people who were
on it before you, it becomes merely a corporate enterprise,” James
says. And then, suddenly, the enterprise itself is “just a company
that’s going to farm 15 sections, with no historical context. When you
don’t hear about the struggles and challenges of the older farmers who
came before, you don’t know or remember that people lived a certain way.
You lose history.”
Planning now, to harvest later
So, maybe it’s time to
take a step back from the treadmill – call it big, call it industrial,
call it what you will – that is farming today.
Years ago, Gord attended
a farm-management seminar hosted by so-called experts in modern
agriculture. “They had a blackboard full of figures, and they were
leaning toward the idea that unless you have an awful lot to harvest,
you can’t afford a combine,” my stepfather recalls. “They were talking
about someone who had 800 acres, and they said: ‘He can’t really afford a
combine, because it’s so massively expensive,’ and on and on. Finally I
spoke up, and said, ‘Well, if you’ve only got 800 acres to harvest, you
don’t buy that new $200,000 combine. You buy a used pull-type for
$15,000. Then I added: ‘If you don’t believe it, well, that’s what I’m doing.’ ”
Besides, he points out,
when times get tough – and at some point, he notes, they always do –
what’s even nicer than not having to repair older equipment is not
having huge payments for new equipment hanging over your head.
And when you are not as
beholden to the latest technology and the debt that comes with it, Gord
says, you don’t feel as much pressure, when the time comes to retire, to
sell your land to the highest bidder. “True, dedicated farmers won’t
sell their land. They just won’t,” he says. “Someone could offer a
million dollars a quarter and we still wouldn’t sell.”
Gord intends to practise
what he preaches: He and Nora will remain in the area, and rent out
their land to farmers they know and trust. They will not be absentee
landlords, and intend to keep a close connection with the farm, and
those tending it.
It is a connection that
extends to parts of their land that don’t even get farmed. There is a
major slough, or wetland, on the parcel of Gord’s land we call
“Nicholson’s,” whose water could be used for irrigation. But while
draining it would increase the farm’s value, Gord has let it be. For one
thing, he says, “I’ve always enjoyed watching the pelicans, and all the
birds, that use it.”
And, it’s too early to
say for certain, but there is hope that some of my stepfather’s
knowledge and experience may come in handy to some of his grandchildren.
My sister Janelle and her husband, Larry, live near Saskatoon, on the
site where his great-grandfather homesteaded in 1901. Janelle works in
the city, and, in addition to farming, Larry runs a landscaping company.
They’ve purchased some fertile land, on which they grow peas, oats and
canola, and raise cattle, a few Berkshire pigs and heritage chickens –
all of which are cared for with the help of their two young boys. While
my sister and brother-in-law have encouraged their children to go to
college, the boys are already asking: If everyone leaves the farm, who
will be left to look after the animals and the land?
Or perhaps there is a
middle way: going to college precisely in order to cultivate better ways
to tend the land. B.C.’s Kwantlen Polytechnic, Prof. Mullinix says,
focuses on teaching its students about “sustainability, and
regenerative, agro-ecological-based agriculture.” In Craftsbury Common,
Vt., just over the Quebec border, Sterling College cultivates farming
methods that are suited to the local environment and that employ both
age-old techniques and cutting-edge research. The college has also
partnered with the non-profit Berry Center in Kentucky on a new degree
program in place- and community-based agriculture. As instructor Rick
Thomas told me when I toured Sterling last spring “Our graduates don’t
go very far.”
There is also the kind
of education that we consumers can undertake for ourselves. We need to
learn more about our food, where it comes from, who makes it, how
healthy it is and how healthy the community that created it is. And we
need to learn that convenience comes at a cost – that, for instance,
farmers typically make pennies on the dollar for what we buy at our
local grocery megastore. Certainly, many of us can afford to pay more:
In 2017, Canadians spent only 11 per cent of their household income on
food, among the lowest of any country in the world.
And all of us, even
those living in cities, need to start supporting policies that help the
family farm. Some of those policies are financial (for example, reducing
the tax burden on existing and inherited farms). Some are environmental
(everything from maintaining soil fertility to weaning food producers
off expensive chemical inputs that aren’t absolutely necessary). Some
are educational (as simple, say, as sponsoring field trips in our local
schools to teach kids where good food comes from).
Finally, farmers can
help themselves by exploring new crops, such as organic or heritage
grains, and new methods that require less-intensive inputs and that the
public is often waiting for with open arms. Perennial grains such as
Kernza (a wild relative of annual wheat being researched at the
universities of Manitoba and Minnesota, and at the Land Institute in
Kansas), which require fewer inputs than soil-depleting annual crops,
show great promise.
For Gord, a last harvest
This year, the annual
Mortlach Fall Supper, a long-standing community gathering that caps the
harvest season, welcomed 360 attendees; that’s 100 more than the
population of Mortlach itself. In my youth, the event, held at the
village hall, was packed with locals, and pretty much everyone who came
was involved in farming.
Now, many attendees come
from surrounding towns, and even from Moose Jaw. A tradition built
around those who owned and worked family farms – and who built an
organic community on their way to feeding their fellow Canadians – is
becoming a gathering untethered to the land.
But not every farming
ritual has been lost, at least not quite yet. In late October, when Gord
was racing to complete the final stretch of his final harvest, 320
acres of Northern Spring wheat, he (along with many other farmers across
Saskatchewan and Alberta) was halted for a month by wet weather,
including early-season snow. When the sun finally reappeared for a few
days, drying the wheat, he was able to resume the harvest, only to face
another weather-driven deadline: With four days of combining work still
to finish, he had only two days before rain was set to come in again.
And his crop would not withstand another downpour.
As he raced against
time, working late into the night, he called everyone he could think of
for assistance – including his former hired man, who had retired. No one
was available.
Then, at the 11th hour,
he got hold of a local father and his two sons who had just completed
their own harvest work and were now ready to lend a hand. The next
morning, they arrived with two combines and a grain truck, and, together
with my stepfather, finished the work in just more than a day.
Gord’s last harvest was one for the history books.