
The Omnivore's Delusion: Against the Agri-intellectuals
In an article for the Journal of the American Enterprise Institute, "real" farmer Blake Hurst devotes his first few paragraphs to establishing the straw man of the intellectual who wants to change everything about farming on the strength of reading one book. He makes the case that farming is the way it is because of logical and often environmentally-conscious choices.
Hurst offers an anecdote about the dangers of organic farming:
Lynn Niemann was a neighbor of my family's, a farmer with a vision. He began raising turkeys on a field near his house around 1956. They were, I suppose, what we would now call "free range" turkeys. Turkeys raised in a natural manner, with no roof over their heads, just gamboling around in the pasture, as God surely intended. Free to eat grasshoppers, and grass, and scratch for grubs and worms. And also free to serve as prey for weasels, who kill turkeys by slitting their necks and practicing exsanguination. Weasels were a problem, but not as much a threat as one of our typically violent early summer thunderstorms. It seems that turkeys, at least young ones, are not smart enough to come in out of the rain, and will stand outside in a downpour, with beaks open and eyes skyward, until they drown. One night Niemann lost 4,000 turkeys to drowning, along with his dream, and his farm.
Snopes, however, deems false the common wisdom that turkeys will drown in the rain, although it does note that domesticated turkeys don't have good survival skills.
Hurst takes aim at Michael Pollan,
Michael Pollan, in an 8,000-word essay in the New York Times Magazine, took the expected swipes at animal agriculture. But his truly radical prescriptions had to do with raising of crops. Pollan, who seemed to be aware of the nitrogen problem in his book The Omnivore's Dilemma, left nuance behind, as well as the laws of chemistry, in his recommendations. The nitrogen problem is this: without nitrogen, we do not have life. Until we learned to produce nitrogen from natural gas early in the last century, the only way to get nitrogen was through nitrogen produced by plants called legumes, or from small amounts of nitrogen that are produced by lightning strikes. The amount of life the earth could support was limited by the amount of nitrogen available for crop production.
In his book, Pollan quotes geographer Vaclav Smil to the effect that 40 percent of the people alive today would not be alive without the ability to artificially synthesize nitrogen. But in his directive on food policy, Pollan damns agriculture's dependence on fossil fuels, and urges the president to encourage agriculture to move away from expensive and declining supplies of natural gas toward the unlimited sunshine that supported life, and agriculture, as recently as the 1940s. Now, why didn't I think of that?
even for being right:
Pollan thinks farmers use commercial fertilizer because it is easier, and because it is cheap. Pollan is right. But those are perfectly defensible reasons. Nitrogen quadrupled in price over the last several years, and farmers are still using it, albeit more cautiously. We are using GPS monitors on all of our equipment to ensure that we do not use too much, and our production of corn per pound of nitrogen is rapidly increasing. On our farm, we have increased yields about 50 percent during my career, while applying about the same amount of nitrogen we did when I began farming. That fortunate trend will increase even faster with the advent of new GMO hybrids. But as much as Pollan might desire it, even President Obama cannot reshuffle the chemical deck that nature has dealt. Energy may well get much more expensive, and peak oil production may have been reached. But food production will have a claim on fossil fuels long after we have learned how to use renewables and nuclear power to handle many of our other energy needs.
But at Daily Bread, on Big Money, Dan Mitchell deconstructs the straw man:
"I'm so tired," Hurst writes, "of people who wouldn't visit a doctor who used a stethoscope instead of an MRI demanding that farmers like me use 1930s technology to raise food."
That is, plainly and simply, a crock. Doctors still use stethoscopes all the time and, except for perhaps a few nuts, none of the proponents of ecologically friendly agriculture are calling for a return to "1930s technology." Pollan, for example, is quite reasonable in his approach: He doesn't even call for the elimination of industrial farming; he simply wants to mitigate its many harms.
...
Again, almost nobody is calling for bringing down the entire industrial food system and replacing it with tiny organic farms. The idea is to incorporate certain "sustainable" principles into that system to lessen the very real bad impacts it has on our health and on the environment. For instance, to reduce its use of petroleum and its reliance on the nastiest of pesticides that befoul our waterways.
Pollan and the rest aren't pretending that this is a zero-sum game--a simple choice between an organic and an industrial system. But Bailey and Hurst sure are.
What is disheartening here is that Hurst makes some good points under all the confrontational bluster. Proponents of "sustainable" agriculture do tend to downplay the often painful, often expensive tradeoffs that must be made. "Biotech crops actually cut the use of chemicals, and increase food safety," Hurst writes. True. But he follows that up with: "Are people who refuse to use them my moral superiors?" Not true.