Besides working on (for which read, procrastinating) my thesis project, I only have one course this semester: “Food, Land, and Culture.” So far, it looks like it will be a fascinating course. I’m not sure what could be better than hanging out for 3 hours a week with 30 or so people to talk about food and politics. But it is a discussion-oriented class, and that means figuring out what my opinions are.
An Agitator thread about Norman Borlaug and this op-ed from the LA Times have both been simmering away at the back of my mind, melding with the first week’s readings, to help shape some of those thoughts.
The op-ed (by Charlotte Allen) blasts Ellen Ruppel Shell’s book Cheap (which, to be fair, I have not read, though I have read a number of the other authors discussed in the article), and much of the article is concerned with food; specifically, the fact that right now in North America, food is cheap and on average, households spend a much lower percentage of their income on their food (though that average is key). However, Allen caricatures her opponents (Alice Waters and Michael Pollan, for example). She notes that they feel that food is under-priced, and then accuses them of wanting others to impoverish themselves, but ignores the rather important question of why they feel food is “too cheap.” By doing so, Allen demolishes a strawman quite nicely, but she certainly hasn’t convinced me that Waters and Pollan – and, presumably, Shell – are a bunch of elitist snobs trying to stomp down the poor in the name of foodie culture.
Meanwhile, Radley Balko posted a bit of a tribute to the late Norman Borlaug, who was one of the innovators of the “green revolution”. For those who don’t know, the green revolution encompasses a number of new developments in agriculture, including synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, and hybrid high-yield crops. This is a significant challenge to the neo-Malthusian perspective; the green revolution makes it very clear that food production will not be inevitably outstripped by population growth.
The story of modern-day cheap food and the green revolution are deeply connected, and as is noted in the Agitator thread (by myself, among others), this is not an entirely bad thing. I’m an environmentalist, and I’m not an optimist of the Julian Simon school of thought; I do believe that the Earth is finite (although the limits are, to some extent, elastic), and I think that the human population will have to be limited in the long run, though I think the only way for that will work is if it’s voluntary. However, in the short run, whether or not we believe that the planet is over-populated, it is not right that people should starve if we can prevent it. And right now, we can, and industrial agriculture made that possible, both by increasing the food supply and lowering food prices. Garrett Hardin‘s lifeboat metaphor is one of the foulest ideas I’ve ever heard associated with environmentalism, and criticizing industrial agriculture for enabling population growth without widespread starvation skirts dangerously close to that way of thinking.
That said, industrial agriculture should not be immune to criticism. What Charlotte Allen – and Radley Balko – overlook is that although industrializing agriculture made food prices lower in part through economies of scale and greater productivity, it also created a number of negative externalities. Tegtmeier and Duffy (2004), for example, examined the costs of soil erosion, water and air pollution, biodiversity loss, and human health impacts from conventional agriculture, and suggested that in total, 5 – 16.9 billion dollars are spent annually in the US to pay for the consequences of industrial agriculture. Those numbers are large, but they might be a reasonable price to pay to prevent hunger. However, the problems for which Tegtmeier and Duffy are evaluating costs are not static; for example, erosion imposes an annual cost, but the annual cost will go up as arable land is reduced and soil fertility is lost. When I go to the grocery store and buy a pint of strawberries that were grown on a conventional farm on the other side of the continent, I do not pay those extra costs. Society – and the surrounding environment – does.
We will pay those costs eventually – unless we take a critical look at industrial agriculture. Critical assessment doesn’t mean that we deny that industrial agriculture has helped people; it means we work to assess the unintended consequences to both environmental and human health, and look for alternative practices that can stave off those consequences while retaining the advantages. And there’s my Julian Simon moment – I think that there is plenty of evidence that with enough political will, sustainable agricultural practices can be implemented, and they do not mean either a low-productivity agriculture that will not feed our population, or a return to individual subsistence agriculture. Criticizing industrial agriculture for its well-documented environmental and health consequences does not mean that one must necessarily take an abhorrent moral stance with regard to the human population and our well-being.