If I told you that I knew who was going to win the 2030 World Series, would you believe me? Or would you think I was a lunatic? Obviously, you’d think I was nuts.
But what if I was really into baseball? I mean REALLY into baseball. If I’d read everything there was to read about the game? Imagine I watched every game (somehow) and could cite batting stats for obscure players from the 1920’s. If I was a genuine expert, would you believe me then?
You’d probably take me more seriously, that’s for sure. You might even respect my knowledge and opinions. But would you think I actually had the answer? If you did, you would be the crazy one.
We recognize that no matter how well-informed the source, predictions about the future are opinions, not facts.
At least most of the time we do. But when it comes to predicting the future of something even more complex than baseball, California agriculture for example, a lot of us have a near religious devotion to “our” team. We know who we want to win. We know why we expect them to win. That’s why the topic of farming’s future often spawns heated arguments, not real discussion leading to practical and workable solutions.
Everyone related to agriculture, conventional or organic, has their own differing concerns, priorities, and fears but we share the same basic goal: we want to be able to feed people in such a way that works for everybody involved. And if we are doing it right, we’ll all be able to keep doing the same tomorrow, next month, next decade, the next century and beyond.
Like baseball fans, we have our differences, but we are all committed to the same game. We have our opinions, preferences and hopes for the future. But we don’t know how it will turn out, because we recognize that the game changes over time.. As they say, that’s why they play the game. The only way for us to know what California agriculture is going to look in 2030 is to play it out. I’m looking forward to it.
But I’m not putting money on the Cubs.