|
Michael Specter, “The Extremist,” The New
Yorker, April 14, 2003. Pages 63-4
There aren’t many places today where cows roam
free and chickens lay eggs on a haystack. Less than two per cent of the
American population is involved in producing food. American agricultural
technology has managed to transform farms into factories, and animals are,
as Wayne Pacelle, a senior vice-president of the Humane society of the
United States, put it in an op-ed piece that appeared recently in the Los
Angeles Times, really nothing more than incredibly efficient “meat-, milk-
and egg-producing machines.” The only encounters many of us have with
animals are when they appear on our plate. Most of these animals never see
a day of natural light or spend even an hour free with other members of
their species. Chickens live in a constant state of dismal twilight; the
darkness makes them logy and encourages them to eat more and move less, both
of which help them to grow more rapidly. “That’s what the companies call
feed conversion,” Marshall told me. “It’s the amount of feed you need for
the weight gain you want. Obviously, you look to use as little food as you
can. That’s why you don’t want them moving around. It just wastes a bunch
of calories.”
Marshall took me to a nearby plot of land where
he maintains more chicken sheds; they were occupied. He pointed out the
computer system that regulates the levels of heat, oxygen, and the nutrients
in the food. “We have to pay for it, and it’s a major expense,” he told
me. “But the companies push you to do it—because it’s better for them, more
efficient, and it really turns raising these chickens into an assembly-line
process. We can program it for everything.”
Thin metal pipes that look like sprinkler
valves run the length of each chicken shed. When the chickens are thirsty,
they can drink from these “water nipples.” It’s a revolutionary thing,”
Marshall said. “You used to have to use a trough, and every other day you
were in there for hours cleaning them. They would get stopped up, and you
would have to fix them or the chickens would die of thirst.” We went into
one of the sheds—again, the smell was overpowering—and he explained that
when the time comes to send the chickens to the factory, crews consisting of
eight men show up with big trucks and tons of cages. They drive the trucks
right into the shed and put the cages on a forklift. The they begin to
herd, collect, and throw the chickens into the cages. “They can get to
throwing those birds around a bit,” Marshall said. “It’s a tough job.” I
asked him if he misses the old days on chicken farms. “Personally, of
course I do. It was nicer. But as a business it’s hard to argue.
Factories are what work best in this country. It’s sad that you can’t see
chickens running around in the yard laying eggs. We could raise them free
range, but the mortality would be higher, and if you have more than two per
cent mortality you lose money. and nobody wants that.”
American meat produces have become remarkably
specialized and economically adept. Since the animals are seen as widgets,
their welfare has never been much of a priority. The guidance imperative is
efficiency and economy, and of course you can raise many more chickens,
pigs, and cows if you cram them into an aluminum shed or a crate rather than
let them wander around the farm. A pig living in a concrete crate that is
two feet wide can’t move, and that’s the point. In 1994, according to the
United States Department of Agriculture, seventy-three per cent of the pigs
raised in America were on small farms and twenty-seven per cent were on
large industrial farms; by 2001, those figures had been reversed.
Litters are bigger and more frequent now, so
industrial farms have to pack the animals in as tightly as possible. Pigs
have a four-month gestation period. Before giving birth, the sows are moved
from the gestation crates to farrowing crates, which have just enough extra
room for the piglets to emerge. When they are taken from the mothers— after
three weeks—the sows are immediately impregnated again (through artificial
insemination) and returned to their gestation crates. On factory farms, any
sow that isn’t pregnant or lactating isn’t doing her job.
Calves are usually taken from their mothers the
day they are born. The females are raised to replace dairy cows, and the
males, since they can never produce milk, are raised for meat. Most are
killed for beef, but about a million are used for veal in the United States
every year. (The veal industry was created solely to take advantage of the
large supply of unwanted male calves.) Farmers pack them into crates so
small that sometimes they can neither lie down nor turn around. The calves
are fed a milk substitute that is deficient in iron and fibre and is
designed to make them anemic. It is the anemia that produces the
light-colored flesh for which veal is so highly prized.
Raising meat in America has become such an
exact science that, through genetic selection and better knowledge of
nutrition, researchers have been able to alter the physical composition of
most of the animals we eat. Poultry companies, for example, have reduced
the time it takes a chicken to reach its final four-to-five-pound weight
from seventeen weeks, in the nineteen-fifties, to six weeks today.
Bodley John. H. Anthropology And
Contemporary Human Problems. California: 1983. ISBN 0874846714, Page
49
Ecosystems modified by industrial civilization
become much simpler, less efficient, and more unstable than those affected
by tribal cultures. Such differences sometimes result directly from
contrasting subsistence systems. For example, the ecological advantages of
traditional, root crop shifting cultivation over intensive monocrop systems
in tropical areas have frequently been noted (Geertz 1963; Rappaport 1971).
In their crop diversity and organization, swidden plots structurally
resemble the rain forest ecosystem, and thereby utilize solar energy with
great efficiency and minimize the hazards of pests and disease.
Page 55
Tribal systems have been described as if they
were barely able to meet subsistence needs, and it has been assumed that
tribal peoples faced a daily threat of starvation that forced them to devote
virtually all their waking moments to the food quest. This traditional view
remained almost unchallenged until careful studies of productivity and
time-energy expenditure in tribal societies revealed that even the most
technologically simple peoples were able to satisfy all their subsistence
requirements with relatively little effort. It has been shown, in fact,
that many of these societies could have produced far more food if they had
been so inclined; instead, they preferred to spend their time at other
activities, such as socializing and leisure.
Page 115
Paradoxically, Bangladesh is potentially a very
rich agricultural land with excellent climate, abundant water, and fine
alluvial soils. Before the British arrived in 1757, the region (then called
Bengal) supported a prosperous local cotton industry. The peasantry was
well able to feed itself because land was not privately owned and was not
part of the market economy. The British forcibly introduced cash cropping
for export, first of indigo, and then of jute, and they made land a
commodity to be individually owned. Through a variety of legal and
extralegal means, the peasantry was steadily deprived of the land.
Page 124
A factory farm is actually an extremely costly,
sloppy, and inefficient attempt to replace nature with a very simplified,
artificially maintained and subsidized machine. Chemical fertilizers
manufactured and transported with fossil fuels replace the tightly
calibrated nutrient cycles of the natural ecosystem. More chemicals and
machinery control the weeds that in a swidden system are merely part of the
restart mechanism and are shaded out as the successional pattern they
initiate proceeds. Plant geneticists working in laboratories replace the
natural process of biological evolution based on natural selection and
species diversity. The delicate natural balances that prevent consumer
species from overgrazing are eliminated by heavy application of chemical
poisons. Pollution and environmental deterioration are unintended direct
by-products of industrial farming, because the exotic nutrients and
insecticides do not fit into natural ecosystem cycles but instead merely
pile up in unexpected places to block these cycles. The massive use of
chemical pesticides also has serious direct implications for public health,
and has stirred widespread public concern and controversy on many occasions.
Much of the energy and workforce needed to support an industrial food system
is disguised by statistics that focus on farm labor and yields per acre....
Page 126
On a factory farm in the United States,
potatoes can be grown as a successful monocrop only with the help of vast
energy inputs to maintain correct soil conditions, moisture, and nutrients,
and to control weeds, epidemic diseases, and insect infestations. On the
swidden sweet potato farm, all of these functions are carried out by the
natural ecosystem, and by the diversity of the garden plantings, which
imitates that natural system. No irrigation or fertilizer is required on
swidden plots, but factory potato farmers must apply chemical fertilizer
constantly and in many areas must irrigate to maintain their high yields.
Andrew Kimbrell, Fatal Harvest.
California: Foundation for Deep Ecology, 2002. ISBN 1559639415, Page 2
It is generally agreed that an efficient
farming system would be immensely beneficial for society and our
environment. It would use the fewest resources for the maximum sustainable
food productivity. Heavily influenced by the “bigger is better” myth, we
have converted to industrial agriculture in the hopes of creating a more
efficient system. We have allowed transnational corporations to run a food
system that eliminates livelihoods, destroys communities, poisons the earth,
undermines biodiversity, and doesn’t even feed the people.
All in the name of efficiency. It is
indisputable that this highly touted modern system of food production is
actually less efficient, less productive than small-scale alternative
farming. It is time to reembrace the virtues of small farming, with its
intimate knowledge of how to breed for local soils and climates;; its use of
generations of knowledge and techniques like intercropping, cover cropping,
and seasonal rotations; its saving of seeds to preserve genetic diversity;
and its better integration of farms with forest, woody shrubs, and wild
plant and animal species.
Andrew Kimbrell, Cold Evil. E.F.
Schumacher Society lecture. Great Barrington, MA 2002.
Page 24
Pig number 6707 was meant to be “super”—super
fastgrowing, super big, super meat quality. He was supposed to be a
technological breakthrough in animal husbandry. Researcher Dr. Vern Pursel
and his colleagues at the U.S. Department of Agriculture had used our
taxpayer money to design this pig to be like no other, and to a certain
extent they succeeded. No 6707 was unique, both in his general physiology
and in the very core of each and every cell. For this pig was born with a
human growth gene engineered into his permanent genetic makeup, one of
hundreds of thousands of animals that have now been genetically engineered
with foreign genetic material. I met the pig and his creator over a decade
ago while doing research for my book The Human Body Shop. Pursel’s idea was
to engineer human growth genes into livestock in order to create animals
many times larger than those currently being bred.
Pursel’s pig did not turn into a super pig.
The human genetic material injected into the animal at the early embryo
stage had altered its metabolism in unpredictable and horrifying ways. By
analogy, imagine injecting elephant growth genes into an early human embryo
and the physiological changes that would accrue. The human growth genes
caused huge muscle mass in the pig, which made it crippled and bow-legged
and riddled with arthritis. The genes also made it impotent and nearly
blind. This deformed pig could not stand up and could be photographed in a
standing position only with the support of a plywood board. When I asked
Pursel about his purpose in creating this pathetic creature, he responded
that he was attempting to make livestock more efficient and more
profitable. As for his failure, he said that “even the Wright brothers did
not succeed at first.” My attempts to point out the difference between the
pig and a machine (i.e., airplane) were met with an uncomprehending shrug.
Pursel was motivated to genetically engineer
no. 6707 by his belief in objective science, efficiency, profit and a
mechanistic view of life. These ideologies have also become the central
dogmas underlying the technosphere. They are modern credos born centuries
ago of the minds of some of the enlightenment’s great thinkers. I am not
suggesting that animals researchers or other purveyors of cold evil have
read up on their Descartes, Bacon, or Adam Smith. Quite the contrary: I
believe that certain basic tenets of these philosophers have trickled down
from the scientific and academic elite to become habits of thinking and
perception for the general public. These ideologies now go virtually
unexamined, yet they provide the basic rationale for much cold evil.
Perhaps the greatest impact of Cartesian
mechanism is its creation of the cult of efficiency. Efficiency—maximum
output with minimum input in minimum time -- is an appropriate goal for the
productivity of machines. Under the sway of mechanism, however, efficiency
has metastasized over the past century into the principle virtue, not just
for machines but for all life forms as well. We have undergone a kind of
mechano-morphism, turning all life into machines and then judging and
changing life utilizing the mechanistic value of efficiency. The effort to
make humans more efficient began in earnest over a century ago when the
eugenics movement became accepted public policy in the United states and led
to the sterilization of thousands of the “unfit.” The cult of efficiency
was further forced on humans in the years prior to World War I by the
pioneering work of U.S. mechanical engineer Frederick Winslow Taylor, who
began a managerial revolution to make workers more efficient in the newly
developed assembly-line method of production.
Over the generations the tickle-down effects of
the cult of efficiency have turned into a veritable flood. Efficiency has
become our number one unquestioned virtue. A large part of our public and
personal lives is constructed around this cult. As a society we repeatedly
urge efficient government, an efficient and productive work force, efficient
use of natural resources, and efficient use of human resource (that’s us!).
Everyone is trying to become more efficient. We have all become “multi-taskers,”
using the best-selling minute-manager manuals for reference (surely The
Nanosecond Manager will be a bestseller of the future).
As demonstrated by the creation of pig no. 6707
the cult of efficiency is leading to enormous potential crimes against
life. The great philosopher Owen Barfield in his seminal work Saving the
Appearances warned that “those who mistake efficiency for meaning inevitably
end by loving compulsion.” Now the genetic engineers such as Pursel are
literally remaking the genetic code of the world’s life forms in order to
make them more efficient. Humans are not to be spared, as indicated by a
recent report with recommendations by the U.S. Department of Commerce and
the National Science Foundation: altering the permanent genetic make-up of
humanity to increase the “efficiency of performance” is now a top scientific
priority. Even as the doctrine of efficiency is becoming the dictate for
biotechnology, nanotechnologists tell us that they will soon be rebuilding
all matter, molecule by molecule, to make it more efficient.
As with the cult of objectivity, if the
efficiency principle is applied to private life, it quickly turns into the
ludicrous. This should not surprise us, for efficiency is a machine value,
not a life value. Is a father to treat his children efficiently, giving
them minimum food, affection, and “quality” time for maximum good behavior
or academic performance? Are we to treat our friends according to an
efficiency calculation? Do we treat our beloved pets on an efficiency
basis? Most pets produce nothing at all (my dogs specialize in spoiled rugs
and chewed baseball gloves), but we lavish on the, our love and affection.
In fact, all these relationships are based not on efficiency but on empathy
and love. Yet the cult of efficiency has robbed much of our public life of
the language of empathy. Thus, the cold-evil cruelties of the workplace,
slaughterhouse, and research laboratory overwhelm the values that could
reform and heal them.
If you think that there’s no difference between
a river an a Buick—that they’re both just systems and the only questions is
which is the more efficient one - then the only comfort you have is that
things are as good as humans can make them. If you believe in a given good,
on the other hand, there is truly comfort, for there is a Creator who is
inherent in the given good, in which we can participate and which is within
us.
Joseph A. Tainter, The Collapse of Complex
Societies. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988. ISBN 052138673
Page 25
Fred
Bateman (1969) has investigated changes in labor efficiency in the American
dairy industry between 1850 and 1910. There was no major technological
breakthrough in this interval, but other changes took place. One major
shift was the widespread extension of dairying into the winter months.
Another was improvements in feeding. Still a third was the addition of
stricter sanitation requirements. All of these added to the labor
requirements of dairying, although yields did not increase proportionately.
The figures in Table 1 show that between 1850 and 1910 dairy output per unit
of labor declined by 17.5 percent.
Page 98
Table 1. American dairy labor efficiency,
1850-1910
===========================================================
|
Year |
Average annual yields per
cow (lbs.) |
Total annual labor time
(hours) |
Total labor per 100 lbs.
milk (hours) |
Milk output per labor
hours (lbs.) |
|
1850 |
2371 |
77.04 |
3.25 |
30.78 |
|
1910 |
3570 |
140.60 |
3.94 |
25.39 |
1 After Bateman (1969: 222).
Page 99
Gregory Johnson (1982) has shown graphically
that as the size of a social group increases, the communication load
increases even faster. Information processing increases in response until
capacity is reached. After this point, information processing performance
deteriorates, so that greater costs are allocated to processing that is less
efficient and reliable. At this point information processing hierarchies
may be expected to develop (Johnson 1982: 394-5).
Page 107
Parkinson (1957) indicated bureaucratic
self-serving to account for declining marginal returns on investment in
hierarchical specialists. However comforting to some, this is far too
simplistic an explanation. Bendix (1956) has compiled for private industry,
in several nations, data similar to those Parkinson has uncovered in
government. He was able to show that a pattern of increasing hierarchical
specialization characterizes the private sector as strongly as Parkinson has
demonstrated for the public (Fig. 15). Clearly in the private sector, where
economic success depends on efficiency, this pattern cannot be attributed to
self-serving inefficiency. The reason why complex organizations must
allocate ever larger portions of their personnel and other resources to
administration is because (as discussed in Chapter 2) increased complexity
requires greater quantities of information processing and greater
integration of disparate parts.
Page 108
Although some authors (e.g. Schmookler 1962)
believe that technical innovation responds to economic productivity, there
are also data suggesting that technical innovation often occurs along a
curve of declining marginal productivity. Fig. 17 shows reductions in fuel
consumption of steam engines resulting from increases in thermal efficiency,
from the early eighteenth to the middle twentieth centuries. In such a
field, technical innovation slows down as returns for improvement diminish.
For the steam engine, the remaining possibilities of fuel-saving were
reduced as thermal efficiency was increased. A doubling of efficiency in
this century would save much less fuel, per engine, than would a 10 percent
increase in the eighteenth century, and the saving would be much harder to
achieve (Wilkinson 1973: 144-5).
Zolotas has argued that the productivity of
industrialism for producing social welfare is declining. In partial support
of this assertion he points out that while U. S. per capita product
increased 75 percent from 1950 to 1977, weekly work hours declined by only
9.5 percent (Zolotas 1981: 92-3).
Page 111
Why does information processing often show a
declining marginal return? Why do investment in education, and in research
and development, result in decreasing productivity? The answers in both
spheres are similar.
The case of education was touched on earlier.
Reiterating in brief: general education, which occurs in the earliest years
of life, is of the most lasting, widespread value. It is also attained at
the lowest comparative cost. Later, more specialized training is
considerably costlier. Its benefits may apply only to narrow segments of
the society, while its costs are spread throughout the system. It may
institutionalize rigidity where flexibility is called for. What is more,
the benefits of specialized training are at least partly attributable to the
generalized education will obtain greater marginal returns on its investment
than a society dependent on specialized training.
Page 112
The situation in research and development is
similar. As with education, specialized scientific knowledge depends upon
prior, general principles. Within a scientific field, early work develops
the general parameters of the discipline, the nature of the subject matter,
the scope of inquiry, broad research questions, and like scholars (Kuhn
1962, nevertheless there is also substantial derivation from it (Schwartz
1971: 43). Thus, the product of early, generalized work in a scientific
field includes all knowledge derived from later, specialized research, and
so -- again axiomatically—specialized work can never yield the benefits
achieved by earlier, generalized research. It is no coincidence that the
most famous practitioners historically in each field tend to be persons who
were instrumental in developing the field, and in establishing its basic
outline. No Einsteinian physicist, no Darwinian biologist, and no Marxist
social scientist will ever achieve the fame and influence of these masters
who revolutionized their fields.
Holstein Dairy Cows and the Inefficient
Efficiencies of Modern Farming By VERLYN KLINKENBORG
Sixteen years ago, I met a Holstein cow named
Juniper-Mist Bell Paula. She lived in splendid solitude in a stone-walled
paddock on a venerable Massachusetts farm. Bell Paula was, in fact, more
chicken than cow. Her job was to produce eggs, not milk. Several times a
year, she was given hormones that caused her to super-ovulate — to release
many eggs instead of one. These were flushed from her, fertilized and
implanted in receptor cows as near as the next stone paddock or as far away
as China and Japan. The reason was Bell Paula’s milking record. At the time,
an average Holstein in America — the ubiquitous black-and-white dairy cow
—gave some 16,000 pounds of milk a year. Bell Paula could give 31,000 pounds
a year when she was still being milked.
If Bell Paula represents one end of the
Holstein spectrum — the long-lived queen of the hive, so to speak — the
Holstein in Washington State that was found last month to be infected with
bovine spongiform encephalopathy, or mad cow disease, represents something
much closer to the middle. She was unusual only in the disease she carried.
When it became clear that she was unhealthy, she was slaughtered. And, under
a testing regime that was changed only last week, her carcass, once tested,
was presumed to be safe and fed into the system, instead of being held until
the test results were in.
There was nothing anomalous in that Holstein’s
slaughter. Beef cattle and dairy cattle represent two different types of
animal, but their fates are identical. What most Americans do not realize is
that nearly every dairy cow eventually becomes either hamburger or the
cheaper variety of steak when her profitability drops. Holsteins are
frequently culled for slaughter when they are between 5 and 6 years old.
When you figure that a Holstein first gives milk when about 2 years old,
that means a productive life on the dairy farm of about three years. In that
brief life span, everything is done to maximize yield, including the regular
use of antibiotics and the feeding of high-protein concentrates of the kind
that used to contain meat and blood meal from other Holsteins, a practice
that has since been banned.
After poultry and pigs, the dairy industry has
become one of the most concentrated forms of agriculture in America. The old
mental picture of a herd of Holsteins standing hock-deep in pasture bears no
relation to the way milk is produced in much of America. Some herds,
especially in the West and Southwest, number in the thousands, which means
the animals spend their lives in barns on cement where they are milked
automatically, in some cases on huge rotating platforms that look like
something out of science fiction.
For all their adaptability, even Holsteins can
put up with only a certain amount of this. By the time they mature, at
around 5 years old, many begin to break down from leg and foot problems.
Dairy organizations distribute locomotion charts to help workers assess
lameness, which can lead to reproductive failures — another reason for
culling animals. Other cows begin to fail from the stress of carrying an
udder that can weigh as much as a full-grown man. To prepare them for
slaughter, the cows must be given time to get any residue — the word means
traces of drugs — out of their systems.
As always, the goals of industrial agriculture
create a perverse logic. Instead of adapting the agricultural system to
suit the animal, we try to adapt the animal to suit the system in order to
eke out every last efficiency. We may take it for granted that dairy cows
will eventually be slaughtered. But strange as it sounds, it makes greater
financial, ethical and social sense if we subscribe to the cows’ notions of
efficiency, which do not include living on concrete or eating anything but
grass and grain, rather than to ours. The animals would be healthier, their
milk would be better, and we would not have to worry quite so much about
what was in our food.
At some point Americans will begin to judge
agriculture not by its intentions but by its unintended consequences. The
intention in the dairy industry has always been to streamline, modernize,
automate, all in the interest of greater profits. But the consequence has
been to concentrate power and money in the hands of a few, to drive down
prices and to create a national surplus of milk that forces small dairy
producers out of business. That, in turn, frees former dairy land for
development, for suburban sprawl. The consequence has also been to breed an
animal that can barely sustain the way she is forced to live.
The river of milk in America brings with it a
river of ground beef made from dairy cows, a river that is almost impossible
to inspect adequately in a deregulated industry. The problem isn’t just a
concentration of meat. It’s a concentration of political power that
hamstrings any calls for closer inspection. The industry has been quick to
point out that far more people die from salmonella and E. coli than from mad
cow disease. That’s not exactly a reason to stand up and cheer.
It’s possible that the Washington State
Holstein may have had the only case of mad cow disease we come across. But
if so, it will have been luck rather than good planning. According to the
philosophers at Cow-Calf Weekly, an online journal for the beef industry,
“Perception is reality.” That’s the sort of thing one says when the reality
is too unbearable to look at.
McKnight, John L. “John Deere and the
Bereavement Counselor” Page 169-70
The story begins as European pioneers crossed
the Alleghenies and started to settle the Midwest. The land they found was
covered with forests. With incredible effort they felled the trees, pulled
the stumps, and planted their crops in the rich, loamy soil.
When they reached the western edge of the
place we now call Indiana, the forests stopped; ahead lay a thousand miles
of the great grass prairie. The Europeans were puzzled by this new
environment. Some even call it “the Great Desert.” It seemed untillable.
The earth was often very wet, and it was covered with centuries of tangled
and matted grasses.
With their cast iron plows, the settlers found
that the prairie sod could not be cut and the wet earth stuck to their
plowshares. Even a team of the best oxen bogged down after a few yards of
tugging. The iron plow was a useless tool to farm the prairie soil. The
pioneers were stymied for nearly two decades. Their western march was
halted and they filled in the eastern regions of the Midwest.
In 1837 a blacksmith in the town of Grand
Detour, Illinois, invented a new tool. His name was John Deere, and the
tool was a plow made of steel. It was sharp enough to cut through matted
grasses and smooth enough to cast off the mud. It was a simple tool, the
“sodbuster,” which opened the great prairies to agricultural development.
Sauk County, Wisconsin, is the part of that
prairie where I have a home. It is named after the Sauk Indians. In 1673
Father Marquette became the first European to lay eyes upon their land. He
found a village laid out in regular patterns on a plain beside the Wisconsin
River. He called the place Prairie du Sac. The village was surrounded by
fields that had provided maize, beans, and squash for the Sauk people for
generations reaching back into unrecorded time.
When the European settlers arrived at the Sauk
prairie in 1837, the government forced the native Sauk people west of the
Mississippi River. The settlers came with John Deere’s new invention and
used the tool to open the area to a new kind of agriculture. They ignored
the traditional ways of the Sauk Indians and used their sodbusting tool for
planting wheat.
Initially the soil was generous and the farmers
thrived. Each year, however, the soil lost more of its nurturing power.
Within thirty years after the Europeans arrived with their new technology,
the land was depleted. Wheat
farming became uneconomic, and tens of
thousands of farmers left Wisconsin seeking new land with sod to bust.
It took the Europeans and their new technology
just one generation to make their homeland into a desert. The Sauk Indians,
who knew how to sustain themselves on the Sauk prairieland, were banished to
another kind of desert called a reservation. And even they forgot about the
techniques and tools that had sustained them on the prairie for generations
unrecorded.
And that is how it was that three deserts were
created—Wisconsin, the reservation, and the memories of the people.
The most powerful cultures have always assumed
a natural right to exploit the world’s resources wherever they find them,
regardless of the prior claims of indigenous populations. Arguing for
efficiency and survival of the fittest, early colonialists elevated this
“right” to the level of an ethical and legal principle that could be invoked
to justify the elimination of nay cultures that were not making “effective”
use of their resources.
Page 8
Members of the expanding culture rationalized
as “natural” evolutionary processes that eliminated groups considered to be
either culturally or racially inferior. They thought this “selection”
process was so natural and “inevitable” that nothing could prevent it....
Page 13
Development writers with tractors and chemicals
to sell have expressed more ethnocentrism in their treatment of traditional
economic systems than for any other aspect of tribal culture. These writers
automatically assume that tribal economies must be unproductive and
technologically inadequate and therefore consistently disregard the abundant
evidence to the contrary. It has long been fashionable to attack the
supposed inefficiency of shifting cultivation and pastoral nomadism and the
precariousness of subsistence economies in general.
But it could be argued that it is industrial
subsistence techniques that are inefficient and precarious. Mono-crop
agriculture, with its hybrid grains and dependence on chemical fertilizers,
pesticides, and costly machinery, is extremely expensive in terms of energy
demands and is highly unstable because of its susceptibility to disease,
insects, and the depletion of critical minerals and fuels. The complexity
of the food distribution system in industrial society also makes it
vulnerable to collapse because of the breakdowns in the long chain from
producer to consumer. In contrast, tribal systems are highly productive in
terms of energy flow and are ecologically much stabler, while they enjoy
efficient and reliable food distribution systems....
Page 16
Peoples who have already chosen their major
cultural patterns and who have spent generations tailoring them to local
conditions are probably not even concerned that another culture might be
superior to theirs. Indeed it can perhaps be assumed that people in any
autonomous, self-reliant culture would prefer to be left alone. Left to
their own devices, tribal peoples are unlikely to volunteer for civilization
or acculturation.
Page 147
After the initial depopulation suffered by most
tribal peoples during their engulfment by frontiers of national expansion,
most tribal populations began to experience rapid growth. Authorities
generally attribute this growth to the introduction of modern medicine and
new health measures and the termination of intertribal warfare, which
lowered mortality rates, as well as to new technology, which increased food
production. Certainly all of these factors played a part, but merely
lowering mortality rates would not have produced the rapid population growth
that most tribal areas have experienced if traditional birth-spacing
mechanisms had not been eliminated at the same time. Regardless of which
factors were most important, it is clear that all of the natural and
cultural checks on population growth have suddenly been pushed aside by
culture change, while tribal lands have been steadily reduced and
consumption levels have risen. In many tribal areas, environmental
deterioration due to overuse of resources has set in, and in other areas
such deterioration is imminent as resources continue to dwindle relative to
the expanding population and increased use. Of course, population and
increased use. Of course, population expansion by tribal peoples may have
positive political consequences, because where tribals can retain or regain
their status as local majorities they may being a more favorable position to
defend their resources against intruders.
Winner, Langdon. The Whale and the
Reactor Reactor : A Search for Limits in an Age of High
Technology . University of Chicago Press: 1988. ISBN 0226902110.
Page 26
The mechanical tomato harvester, a remarkable
device perfected by researchers at the University of California from the
late 1940s to the present offers an illustrative tale. The machine is able
to harvest tomatoes in a single pass through a row, cutting the plants from
the ground, shaking the fruit loose, and (in the newest models) sorting the
tomatoes electronically into large plastic gondolas that hold up to
twenty-five tons of produce headed for canning factories. To accommodate
the rough motion of these harvesters in the field, agricultural researchers
have bred new varieties of tomatoes that are hardier, sturdier, and less
tasty than those previously grown. The harvesters replace the system of
handpicking in which crews of farm workers would pass through the fields
three or four times, putting ripe tomatoes in lug boxes and saving immature
fruit for later harvest. Studies in California indicate that the use of the
machine reduces costs by approximately five to seven dollars per ton as
compared to hand harvesting. But the benefits are by no means equally
divided in the agricultural economy. In fact, the machine in the garden has
in this instance been the occasion for a thorough reshaping of social
relationships involved in tomato production in rural California.
By virtue of their very size and cost of more
than $50,000 each, the machines are compatible only with a highly
concentrated form of tomato growing. With the introduction of this new
method of harvesting, the number of tomato growers declined from
approximately 4,000 in the early 1960s to about 600 in 1973, and yet there
was a substantial increase in tons of tomatoes produced. By the late 1970s
and estimated 32,000 jobs in the tomato industry had been eliminated as a
direct consequence of mechanization. Thus, a jump in productivity to the
benefit of very large growers has occurred at the sacrifice of other rural
agricultural communities.
Hightower, Jim. Hard Tomatoes, Hard
Times. Cambridge, MA: Schenkman 1978. ISBN 0846705168 Page 2
The basis of land grant teaching, research, and
extension work has been that “efficiency” is the greatest need in
agriculture. Consequently, this agricultural complex has devoted the
overwhelming share of its resources to mechanize all aspects of agricultural
production and make it a capital-intensive industry; to increase crop yield
per acre through genetic manipulation and chemical application; and to
encourage “economies of scale” and vertical integration of the food
process. It generally has aimed at transforming agriculture form a way of
life generally has aimed at transforming agriculture from a way of lie to a
business and a science, transferring effective control from the farmer to
the business executive and the systems analyst.
On the one hand, this focus on scientific and
business efficiency has led to production (and over-production) of a bounty
of food and fiber products, and, not incidentally, it certainly has
contributed to the enrichment of an agribusiness few.
On the other hand, there have been far-reaching
side effects of the land grant college’s preoccupation with the “green
revolution.” As statistics indicate, and as visits to the countryside make
clear, rural America is crumbling. Not just the family farm, but every
aspect of rural America is crumbling— schools, communities, churches,
businesses and way of life.
Nye, David E. Consuming Power.
United States: 1998, ISBN 0262140632, Pages 120 and 191
Efficient harvesting, better food preservation,
and more efficient marketing did not improve farmers’ incomes, however. The
last 20 years of the nineteenth century was a period of agricultural
depression. Commodity prices fell as a result of overproduction. Many
farmers were unable to meet mortgage payments and had to leave the land or
become renters. Farmers blamed railroads, middlemen, banks, and Wall Street
for their plight, and through political organizations (notably the Populist
Party) they called for nationalization of railroads, lower freight rates,
better terms for their loans, funding for irrigation research, and more
democratic control over corporations. But the underlying problem of the
1890s was the success of farm production coupled with the development of the
food-preservation industry....
Efficiency did not make farmers rich. Despite
dramatic increases in productivity, commodity prices, already low in the
1920s, fell even more during the Depression. If one takes 1920 as a
baseline, there was a decline in total farm inventory of 10 percent by 1940,
despite investments in tractors, automobiles, and other energy-intensive
technologies. Even this grim statistic hides the desperate situation of
many midwestern farmers in the Depression, who organized to defy
foreclosures, dumped milk and other commodities in an attempt to force up
prices, lobbied for government cost-of-production price guarantees, and got
mortgage moratorium laws passed in some state legislatures. The high
productivity of mechanized agriculture was at the root of the problem. Not
only did yields per acre increase, but continual improvements in food
processing eliminated waste, while the advent of tractors released
one-quarter of the nation’s farmland that had been used to feed horses.
Paepkem Owen C. The Evolution of
Progress. New York: 1993. ISBN 0679415823 Page xviii
With the beginning of the Industrial
Revolution, material progress quickly began to make up for lost time. It
has virtually defined the era. Nations wax and wane; creeds and
philosophies gain and lose favor; political and social structures evolve;
but progress itself continues. Despite the wars, natural disasters,
political detours, economic dislocations, and other temporary setbacks that
dominate the history texts, every generation has surpassed its predecessor,
even in nations in relative decline. Famine, never more than two bad
harvests away before the nineteenth century, has been buried by mountains of
surplus food in every advanced economy, with even India occasionally
exporting grain. The typical supermarket daily offers a wider selection
than people of just a few generations past ate in a lifetime. Houses with
running water, refrigerators, more bedrooms than people, and other
commonplace miracles have replaced dirt-floored hovels shared by three or
more generations. Improved health care has stretched life expectancies from
less than fifty years in 1900 to more than seventy today. Before railroads,
people rarely left their home counties. Many thousands now cross continents
and oceans each day. In 1900, not one student in ten earned a high school
diploma, the presumptive minimum for entry into the workplace since World
War II. Telecommunication makes knowledge of events, still the dearest of
commodities through the early nineteenth century, available worldwide,
instantly, at little or no cost. Progress has been the only true status quo
of the modern era.
This progress has transformed daily life not
once, but repeatedly. The much-pitied industrial worker of late Victorian
England had already progressed far beyond the nobleman of the preceding
century in many of the material aspects of life. The nineteenth-century in
many of the material aspects of life. The nineteenth-century robber baron
could only envy the diet, mobility, medical care, and general comforts and
amenities available to the average American worker of the 1950s. The
present middle-class American, so often portrayed as a victim of the 1980s,
lives better than even the wealthiest plutocrat of the 1920s. these
long-term improvements owe little to the clamor for reform and everything to
the expanded output that progress has routinely delivered. The productivity
and technology of the nineteenth century deliver only nineteenth-century
squalor, whenever and wherever they occur and however humanely their output
is divided.
Page xix
Two centuries of material progress in many
nations with sharply differing governments and cultures through countless
economic cycles have etched an improving standard of living in the public’s
mind as one of the few eternal verities. Rising incomes, larger houses, and
more and better things, all obtained with less effort, are the normal state
of affairs, the baseline against which an economy’s actual performance is
judged. That complacency is unwarranted. The current era of progress is
over. It will not return.
Page xxv
The growth of the 1980s, welcome as it was, did
not mark a sustainable return to progress. Productivity in the United
States had been virtually unchanged since 1973. Output has increased not
because of improved efficiency of labor or capital, but because of increased
amounts of capital and, particularly, labor. This contributes little to the
standard of living. Indeed, average weekly earnings in constant dollars
have actually fallen slightly since 1973. These trends are utterly without
precedent since these statistics have been compiled. Not even the
Depression produced such a prolonged loss of economic momentum.
Page 54
Real progress, on the other hand, stretches the
boundaries of productive capacity. The factors that govern such progress
have little in common with those that govern economic cycles; indeed, the
rate of progress may suffer from policies that produce short-term prosperity
and vice versa. A progress platform could promise years of sacrifice for
important interests groups, with the uncertain benefits spread among the
public at large over a span of decades.
Few candidates seem eager to stake out that
territory. Most economists follow the politicians in neglecting the long
term, in part because the forces of progress are alien to the standard
economic models and cannot be manipulated with economists’ familiar tools.
Keynesian demand management, supply-side tax cuts, easy monetary policy,
public works projects, and the like may stimulate output under the right
circumstances, but the sustained rise in productive capacity over the last
250 years owes nothing to them. Despite the attention lavished on such
short-term policies, their role in deciding an economy’s output of goods and
services pales in comparison to that of long-term progress: a jet airplane
does not need full throttle to outdistance a Conestoga.
Material progress is, in any event, passing
from the realm of politics into that of history. Three forces—innovation,
market expansion, and capital accumulation—produced and sustained it, and
they are spent. Any effort to understand the long-term trends must begin
with an analysis of these forces and the limitations they are confronting.
Consider the beleaguered owner of a widget
factory. The price his widgets fetch in the marketplace barely covers his
labor, raw material, and capital costs. Other widget makers, who incur
about the same costs and whose widgets are comparable, undercut him when he
tries to change more. The need to end this “cutthroat” price competition
has been floated more than once, but the effort falls apart almost before it
starts, and he rightly suspects that the Justice Department would have taken
a dim view if such an attempt had ever succeeded.
He strives to eliminate waste and raise
quality, but so do his competitors, with about equal success. All too
rarely, demand creeps ahead of supply, buyers cannot squeeze him so hard,
and he is able to pad his margins. Such respites are always brief. Some
competitor, either foreign or domestic, adds capacity, and margins fall
again. The profit on the books at the end of the year is little more than
the owner could earn by selling the factory and investing the proceeds in
securities. It seems a poor regard for all the effort, risk, and sacrifice.
Page 55
His research and development department
delivers one of two solutions:
(1)
It has discovered an improved widget-making
process that increases production using the same amounts of labor and
material. No one else has caught on yet, so the market price stays the
same. By barely shaving his price, the owner can sell the entire increased
output. The cost reduction is pure profit.
(2)
It has enhanced the widget with a new feature
that adds nothing to the cost of manufacture. A patent blocks competitors
from copying the feature immediately. The customers complain and chafe, but
most ultimately agree to pay more to obtain the added feature. The higher
price drops straight to the bottom line.
(3)
For once, the owner has some breathing space.
It will not last. His profit arises from the loss of equilibrium in the
market. He sells more units, his competitors less. His higher
profitability allows him to expand capacity, win the close bids, or extend
his distribution to build market share. To survive, his competitors must
respond in kind. This creates a Wonderland existence, with every firm
innovating as fast as it can just to maintain its place. When enough
competitors match the original innovation, equilibrium is restored. Either
(1) the price falls to the new lower cost of production, or (2) the new
feature becomes standard on widgets selling at the old price. In either
case, profits return to their unsatisfactory pre-innovation levels, and the
cycle starts anew.
The following table indicates the impact of
such advances on farming efficiency.
4.1 U.S. FARM LABOR PRODUCTIVITY, 1925-86
|
|
1925-29 |
1960-64 |
1982-86 |
|
Wheat man-hours/100 bu. |
74 |
12 |
7 |
|
Corn man-hours/100 bu. |
115 |
11 |
3 |
|
Milk man-hours/100 lbs. |
3.3 |
1.2 |
0.2 |
|
Chickens man-hours/100 lbs. |
8.5 |
0.8 |
0.1 |
In each instance, labor productivity has risen
more than tenfold. This rise had steadily reduced prices. A bushel of
wheat averaged $1.05 during the 1870s. An equivalent price in the 1980s
would have been about $12 per bushel, about three times the actual price.
Enchantment of crops will continue. Genetic engineering offers many of the
same opportunities as cross-fertilization and cross-breeding, but with much
greater speed and flexibility.
Page 92
Food production, once the dominant activity of
society, has been permanently relegated to the margin. The trends that
produced this transformation are readily identified. One was
mechanization. The subsistence farmer scratched the earth with a few hand
tools and, if he was comparatively prosperous, an ox-drawn plow. Contrast
modern agribusiness. A grain combine harvests more than one hundred acres
of grain in a day, compared to about one acre for a man with a scythe. Such
combines, rare as recently as 1920, numbered more than a million in the
United States by 1960. Tractors represented nearly as great an improvement
over horses for plowing. Milking machines reduced the required labor per
dairy cow fourfold. Mechanization brought similar gains across a broad
range of farming, ranching, and fishing activities.
Meanwhile, improvements on nature sharply
increased output. Chemical fertilizers are higher in plant nutrients and
cheaper to apply than manure and other organic fertilizers. Worldwide usage
now exceeds 100 billion pound annually (about twenty pounds for each person
on the planet), not only raising yields, but also reducing the need for crop
rotation in advanced economies. This allowed increased scale and
specialization, but at the cost of providing a banquet for insects. DDT and
other organic insecticides greatly alleviated this problem after World War
II. But the largest improvements were in the crops themselves, as America
began and then exported the “Green Revolution.” Semidwarf hybrid wheats,
with thick, short stalks to support heavier heads of grain, replaced marquis
wheat, itself a hardy Canadian hybrid, beginning in the 1960s. Corn
hybrids, almost unknown in 1930, were nearly universal by 1980.
Fast-maturing, disease-and insect-resistant
semidwarf rice hybrids followed in the 1960s. Together, these advances have
raised yields from threefold to tenfold over nineteenth-century levels.
Selective breeding has similarly doubled average milk production per dairy
cow since the 1930s and halved the amount of grain consumed by chickens per
pound of meat produced since the 1940s. Another doubling of agricultural
productivity would now free only about 1 percent of the work force,
producing a comparable gain in overall productivity.
The same limitation increasingly applies to
manufacturing: improved productivity saves too little labor to provide much
boost to the economy as a whole. Thus, “brilliant productivity performers
may actually be condemned by their ... achievements to “burn themselves
out.’” Through this process, stagnant sectors assume an enlarged role
simply by remaining in stasis; hence the increasing relative importance of
retail trade and of services generally in the United States and other
advanced economies. This shift dilutes the effect of any continuing
advances in the most progressive sectors.
Page 183
Progress is not produced by and can scarcely be
affected by economic policy. In the past, innovation, market expansion,
and capital accumulation could be relied upon to reduce the labor and other
inputs needed to produce a given output. Those forces are large spent, and
the progress they generated has limited the scope available for further
productivity gains.
Agriculture is the paradigm. The rising
productivity of American farmers provided the labor needed for manufacturing
and other expanding sectors in the nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries. But ever-increasing efficiency has since reduced the economic
role of farming to virtual insignificance. Another doubling of agricultural
productivity would now free only about 1 percent of the work force,
producing a comparable gain in overall productivity. The same limitation
increasingly applies to manufacturing: improved productivity saves too
little labor to provide much boost to the economy as a whole. Thus,
“brilliant productivity performers may actually be condemned by their ...
achievements to ‘burn themselves out.’” Through this process, stagnant
sectors assume an enlarged role simply by remaining in stasis; hence the
increasing relative importance of retail trade and of services generally in
the United States and other advanced economies. This shift dilutes the
effect of any continuing advances in the most progressive sectors.
Page 184
An era’s living symbols of wealth speak volumes
about its defining values and dynamics. Stanford, Rockefeller, Carnegie,
and Ford, for all their flaws, built fortunes out of railroads, oil, steel,
and factories, the vehicles of progress for their age. consider some of
the comparable symbols of the 1980s:
Michael Milken, Henry Kravis, Donald Trump,
Joseph Flom, Joe Jamail, and even Michael Jackson. Their fortunes arise not
from building or making, but from manipulating. Carl Icahn was no expert in
railcar leasing, textiles, or airlines, as events quickly proved. But he
had few peers in redirecting existing wealth and income from others to
himself and those aligned with him.
This is “the ‘rent-seeking’ society, in which
the tax lawyer and the political lobbyist have replaced the inventor and the
engineer and the entrepreneur’s main instruments toward higher profits.
Agriculture, manufacturing, and construction have occupied steadily smaller
portions of the civilian work force since 1970. Meanwhile, the number of
new law-school graduates in the United States roughly doubled during the
1980s. Accountants, investment advisers, stockbrokers, and real estate
agents have also multiplied. These are typically people of considerable
energy and intellect, “diverted from productive contribution in pursuit of
their share of the available pool of rent. The damage they do while rent
seeking, although considerable, is less troubling than the loss of their
talents from the tasks of production and progress.
Rodes, Barbara K., and Rice Odell. A
Dictionary of Environmental Quotations. New York: 1992. ISBN
0801857384, Page 41, Quote 13.
We used to be hunter-gatherers, now we’re
shopper borrowers.
-- Robbin Williams -- Earth
Day Special, ABC-TV, 4/22/90
Bodley John. H. Anthropology And
Contemporary Human Problems. California:1983. ISBN 0874846714,
Page 118
The food systems of industrial nations
represent an enormous advance in the evolutionary progress and a
proportionate loss in long-run adaptive success. The primary distinguishing
feature of these systems is their fossil fuel energy subsidy, which permits
very high crop yields for very low inputs of human energy. Other critical
aspects are the extreme complexity of the production-consumption chain, and
the tendency to increase the per capita energy and resource cost of food
consumption through expanded dependence on synthetic and highly processed
foods and inefficiently produced animal protein.
These systems are not only far more costly in
terms of per capita demands for energy and resources, but they are
unquestionably more frail than tribal systems, they demand much more
intensive ecosystem management, and they have greater potential for
environmental deterioration. Perhaps, most critically, they can clearly not
be sustained at present rates of increase or even at present levels unless
they are radically restructured. It is also very doubtful that, if such
systems diffuse, they could be supported at all on a global basis, given
present population levels. These are critical issues because the present
strategy for solving the world food crisis not only ignores the fact that
many of the problems are inherent features of state-level cultures based on
intensive food production systems, but also makes the dangerous assumption
that industrial food systems will feed the world if only they can be
established everywhere.
Worster, Donald. Human Ecology. The Wealth
of Nature. New York: Oxford University Press, Inc., 1993. ISBN
0195076249, Page 89
In an earlier America of extensive rural
poverty and poor living conditions more could be said for the vigorous
pursuit of wealth in the marketplace, just as more may be said for it today
in Bangladesh or Haiti. But when that pursuit persists beyond the point of
material sufficiency, when it becomes a dream of unlimited economic gain,
troubles follow. That is what has happened to American farmers and indeed
to this country in general. Farmers must run their machines nonstop to keep
up with the self-aggrandizing industrialist. The faster farmers go, the
more crops they harvest, the more secure their position in the marketplace
may be, the more they can buy—so they hope. But what they win in that way
lasts only for a brief while. A continual uncertainty is their fate in this
society.
The average farmer is not altogether
responsible for this predicament. He did not set up the race, and he is not
leading in it but is somewhere back in the pack, straining to catch up with
corporate presidents, athletes, lawyers, movie stars, and engineers. The
modern farmer lives in an intensely high-pressure world of many wealth
maximizers. In the milieu, growing food becomes his only defense, his sole
means of competing for social position. Unfortunately for him, food has
been a comparatively poor basis for income growth, for it quickly saturates
its market: humans can eat only so much lettuce or beef. Unlike others in
the race, the farmer must always confront the biological limits of the
consumer. He cannot make more money without finding more mouths and bellies
to feed. Agriculture, by its very nature, is a productive activity that
deals primarily with real human needs, not the contrived wants around which
the game of maximization revolves. That difference must inescapably put the
farmer at a disadvantage.
Sikorski, Wade. Modernity and Technology:
Harnessing the Earth to the Slavery of Man, Tuscaloosa: University of
Alabama Press, 1993, Page 67
Both the farmer and the consumer are revealed
as the Reserved by the food industry—the consumer because her consumption is
a thing to be manipulated and controlled by advertising technology, the
farmer because her craft is measured by its usefulness to the food
industry. “Inefficient” farmers go broke and become surplus farmers. The
ugly truth of the farmer as Reserved by the food industry is best revealed
by President Reagan’s joke that we should keep the wheat and export the
farmers.
The Bushman figures imply that one man’s labor
in hunting and gathering will support four or five people. Taken at face
value, Bushman food collecting is more efficient than French farming in the
period up to World War II, when more than 20 percent of the population were
engaged in feeding the rest.
Confessedly, the comparison is misleading, but
not as misleading as it is astonishing. In the total population of
free-ranging Bushmen contacted by Lee, 61.3 percent (152 of 248) were
effective food producers; the remainder were too young or too old to
contribute importantly. In the particular camp under scrutiny, 65 percent
were “effectives.” Thus the ratio of food producers to the general
population is actually 3:5 or 2:3. But, these 65 percent of the people
“worked 36 percent of the time, and 35 percent of the people did not work at
all”! (Lee, 1969, p. 67).
For each adult worker, this comes to about two
and one-half days labor per week. (“In other words, each productive
individual supported herself or himself and dependents and still had 3-1/2
to 5-1/2 days available for other activities.”) A “day’s work” was about
six hours; hence the Dobe work week is approximately 15 hours, or an average
of 2 hours 9 minutes per day. Even lower than the Arnhem Land norms, this
figure however excludes cooking and the preparation of implements. All
things considered, Bushmen subsistence labors are probably very close to
those of native Australians.
Martinez Alier, Juan., and Klaus Schlupmann.
Environmental Policy. Massachusetts: 1987. ISBN 0631171460, Page
3
The productivity of agriculture has not
increased, but decreased, from the point of view of energy analysis. This
does not mean that a new criterion of economic efficiency, such as energy
return to energy input, should be introduced, which would be substituted for
the usual criterion of economic efficiency. It is a fact, for instance,
that different agricultural products have use values which are not always
related to their energy content, and even less to their energy cost, but
rather to their protein or vitamin content, or simply to the pleasure to be
gained by eating or drinking them. Nevertheless, such studies of the flow
of energy in agriculture show that it is not appropriate to analyse economic
growth in terms of an increased productivity of agriculture (said to be
based upon technical progress or upon the development of productive forces)
which, because of the relatively low income-elasticity of demand for
agricultural produce, frees labour to other sectors of the economy.
Lehman, Hugh. Rationality and Ethics in
Agriculture. Idaho: 1995. ISBN 0893011797, Page 150
Definition 2 also stipulates that a sustainable
production system must be efficient. Efficiency is a matter of degree. A
system can be more or less efficient. Further, to speak of efficiency is
virtually meaningless unless we are told the respects in which the system
should be efficient. Should the system be efficient in the use of land or
other natural resources? Should the system be efficient in the use of human
labor? Should the system be efficient in the use of energy? Perhaps, the
stipulation that the production system be efficient reflects the assumption
that resources essential for production are in limited supply. Eventually
they will be used up, and at that point in time production would have to be
discontinued. Given this assumption, we can agree that a production system
would be sustainable for the longest possible time if it were efficient in
its use of essential resources. For this reason, we would agree that a
sustainable production system would be efficient in this respect.
However, in contexts of discussions of modern
agriculture, the term “efficiency’ normally has other connotations. In my
discussions with agricultural scientists who use this term, I get the
impression that they regard one system as more efficient than another if the
former system yields relatively more income for every unit of costs. In
other words, the term “efficiency” when used in discussions of agricultural
matters, normally connotes economic efficiency. Further, the time frame
over which the system is economically efficient is usually not specified.
Now, as he has often been pointed out, a production system can be
economically efficient for a period of time while it is rapidly consuming or
dissipating resources which are essential for long-term functioning of the
system. Thus, an agricultural production system can be both economically
efficient and relatively non-sustainable. If the term “efficiency” is
understood to mean economic efficiency then, I do not agree that efficiency
is essential to sustainability. A sustainable production system could
operate in ways that are not economically efficient given
prevailing economic circumstances.
Busch, Lawrence. Science, Agriculture,
and the Politics of Research. Colorado: 1983. ISBN 0865312257,
Pages 229 and 246
The agricultural sciences developed as part of
the expansion of colonial empires and the shift from subsistence to
capitalist farming. This origin had the effect of institutionalizing the
goal of increased productivity as a central theme in agricultural research.
Over the years, increased productivity came to be seen as an end, rather
than as a means. Even today, productivity often remains an unchallenged and
paramount goal for agricultural research....
Some years ago a noted agricultural scientist
wrote: “In our investigations we still stress too much the goal of increased
productivity as our great task. We still have too much faith in knowledge
of the physical and biological facts and principles as all sufficing. There
should be searchings of heart as to our policies and programs. Are they
adequate to the needs of the new epoch?” We believe that this question,
raised by Kenyon Butterfield in 1917, (1918:54) is still valid today.
Beresford, Tristram. Limits of Efficiency. 1974, Page
6
The current idea of agricultural efficiency,
which is fashionable today that is to say makes the headlines, hits the
viewing peaks, sells the gadgetry, and commands popular respect, -- appears
to me to rest on three propositions: one, that farming is not a primary
industry, but a disguised secondary one, concerned with objects, things,
artifacts, and therefore just another industrial process; two, that since
properties of these objects are ascertainable by analysis, we can practise
agriculture as if it were a scientific discipline; three, that because one
and two are self-evident truths, there is no room in the farming of tomorrow
for anyone who thinks differently.
Lovins, Amory B., L. Hunter Lovins, and
Marty Bender. “Energy and Agriculture”. Pages 68, 69, 73 and 80
If we look at just the agricultural production
consumed within the United States, slightly more than three calories of
energy are invested per calorie of food obtained. When the energy costs for
processing, distribution, and preparation are added onto the three calories,
the total energy cost is about 9.89 calories of energy per calorie of food
consumed in the United States ....
In contrast, the food systems of the rural
populations of developing nations use an estimated 16.4 quads annually to
feed about two billion people with a diet ranging from 1,800 to 2,400
calories per person daily (such diets contain much less meat than ours).
This 16.4 quads is less than one-tenth of what the same number of people
would consume were they utilizing the food system of the United States ....
About forty million tons of fertilizer are
applied to America’s fields each year—approximately 330 pounds for each
person in the country ....
At present, much of American farming and
forestry is little more than a mining operation. A massive biomass fuels
program that simply serves to put greater pressure on overstressed land
would not only risk crushing a budding energy program but could also pull
down much of American agriculture. Renewable must mean sustainable in the
very long run. No biomass program can long endure unless it is based on the
preservation and enhancement of soil fertility, water quality, and the
biotic community on which agriculture depends.
When we look at the imbalance of power and
wealth in the world, we see clearly that the most dominionistic societies
have the lion’s share of both. This, of course, leaves less for the
countries whom they exploit, so we have a burgeoning world underclass. Our
notion of “modern progress” is either cruel or moronic when our
“development” has created more people poor and hungry today than ever before
in history. If this sounds like a sweeping statement, just think for a
minute: This earth didn’t even have a billion people until the early
1800s. Even then, not a fifth were poor and hungry because people in those
days still had access to land and the means to produce their own food. Go
back further—before agriculture, which is though to have fed more people.
Tribal forager peoples did not suffer massive
famines and chronic starvation. They may have had a bad season and lost
some weight, but they did not go hungry year in and year out. We know this
from archaeological evidence, from bones, teeth, and other remains, which
reveal no signs of the malnutrition and wasting diseases we see today in the
children of the poorest countries in Africa, India, and Asia. We know this,
too, bec |