Do all local food experiments work out?

Of course not. A few years back, I tried a test plot of garlic. I had high hopes for it, since I knew I had some customers interested. But garlic turned out to be just too labor intensive for our operation. We weren’t manned for that level of cultivation, and the test plot was too small to justify adding extra manpower. A plot large enough to be viable would have required even more labor, and expensive changes to our irrigation system. That experiment fizzled.

A later experiment involved San Marzano tomatoes. I think these still hold promise, but that summer turned out to be one of the coolest and dampest on record. The soil never really warmed up, and the end of summer saw stringy little seedlings instead of the lush vines loaded with fruit I had been imagining.

This winter, I planned a trial of favas and garbanzo beans as an edible (and marketable) winter cover-crop. But weeks of dry weather set the favas back. And the garbanzos? My seed supplier wasn’t able to deliver on the order, so that will have to wait until next year.

I don’t like failure any more than anybody else. But as a small farmer facing an uncertain future, I know that riding our existing crops and business model into the ground is a guaranteed disaster. So I’ll make all the little mistakes I can, if it helps me avoid a big mistake down the road. Having access to a market for local produce doesn’t guarantee me success; there are no guarantees in farming. But it does allow me an opportunity.

I’ll take that.

Who’s Talking About Economic Viability?

I have always felt that the notion of economic viability gets glossed over in discussions of sustainable agriculture. That is why one of the first pieces I posted to this blog was “Defining Economic Viability”. No definition? No problem. I’ll make my own.

“Economic viability means that the real returns from farming operations, relative to the farm’s asset value and labor inputs, are competitive with other small business, career, or investment alternatives.”

I might smooth this out a bit, but it is a solid, comprehensive working definition. (Refer to the earlier article to see why.) Over the three and a half years since I wrote it,  I noticed that this article always got more traffic than others. Perhaps I should have been more curious, but I hadn’t googled the definition for some time.

Until last night.

I was surprised to see that my article was the #2 hit on Google for “defining economic viability.” OK, so that is the exact title… perhaps not a fair test. But what happens if you limit the search to “economic viability”? Still high up the second page. Note that neither search was restricted to the economic viability of agriculture. It seems odd to me that such a central concept is not better defined.

How Local Supports the Mainstream

I have often argued that “local” agriculture supports “mainstream” agriculture. One element of my theory is that specialty crops that are grown for niche markets and local channels find their way into the mainstream. Farmer’s Market growers validate new crops and create demand; Larger growers then take them to scale and introduce them to mainstream distribution channels.

Looking into Ventura County crop reports for another project, I spotted some data that appears to support this theory. In 2004, Tangerines accounted for about $882,000 in crop sales. By 2009, this had jumped to nearly $3,000,000. While unable to examine their source data, I think I can offer an explanation for this growth. In 2004, the sales are almost all attributable to the Ojai Pixie Growers. But by 2009, tangerine acreage was showing up around the county, destined to mainstream markets. Considering that these “mainstream trees” are still quite young, I’d anticipate that tangerine revenues will continue to rise sharply.

As finally, it is worth noting that our top crop in the County (strawberries), was a seasonal, niche crop when introduced to the Oxnard plain in the 1950’s… a plain still dominated by lima beans and sugar beets.

True Cost of Food and the True Value of Farm Labor?

It is often taken as gospel that the higher prices of food that has been “sustainably” farmed is a reflection of the “true cost” of food. As for myself, I haven’t questioned this particular piece of dogma either.

Until now. Not that I am rejecting the entire proposition. But I am thinking about the implied corollary to this statement, which is that if “sustainable” food  captures the “true cost” of food, then it must be paying “true value” for all of its inputs.

Which is why this article caught my eye. I applaud the initiative of the people described in the article; indeed I can see myself in their shoes. (I traded a career and a chunk of home equity to get into the farming business at age 35, the twilight of “young”.) But the article describes them earning $7 to $9 per hour, and in one instance working a month for free, since the farm could not pay them.

What is striking to me is that these wages are less then is commonly paid in my corner of California for farm labor, most of whom it is safe to say are not college educated. So is $7 to $9 per hour really the “true value” of farm labor? If that is the case, than Southern California farmers are apparently benevolent, rather than exploitative as is often charged.

The difference is that these neo-farmers are driven by passion, while for most farmworkers, the job is just a paycheck. So the question becomes, does this really mark a path toward sustainability? Like any industry, agriculture benefits from new minds and fresh energy, so this is a good thing. On the other hand, this newly found source of cheap labor, while “renewable”, is probably very finite. Will this resource last? Will the many small farms that rely on this type of labor continue to be able to attract volunteers as their model is adopted on wider scales?

In the long term, we will have to come face to face with two unpleasant truths.

Firstly, farming is not and generally has never been, aspirational. Sadly the history of mankind is the tale of people inventing ever more clever ways to get away from the farm. (A more detailed reflection on this point here.)

Secondly, much of the toil in agriculture is confined to entry level jobs that require few skills, no higher education, and in some cases, not even literacy in the prevailing language of the region. Such jobs are unlikely ever to pay very well, whether the worker holds a master’s degree or a green card.

Figs and a Stinkin’ Acre

August and September have been busy months. Irrigation is always critical this time of year, and we are just concluding picking and pruning the lemons. It was particularly busy in the small end of the business: With lemons delivered to Ventura Limoncello, Meyer lemons and figs to the Sidecar, and additional Meyers into “mainstream/niche” markets, September was our biggest month yet for local and specialty fruit.

The experience has encouraged us to try to branch out a little further, so too new crops will be added to the mix. Garlic and Figs.

Now, I know, I mentioned figs already, but let me explain. For the past two seasons we have sold figs to chefs and caterers, but they have all come from the big “family tree” which is 50+ years old and is presumed to be a black mission varietal. What will be new is that we will have a dozen trees of mixed varietals, including Kadota, Brown Turkey, and Desert King. We hope with some new varieties we may find some which really click with our customers, thrive in our microclimate, and fruit through a longer window.

Garlic is something we are going to try on a very, very small scale. I’ll be very happy if we have a thousand pounds of marketable garlic, and despite the title of this piece, we will be committing far less than an acre to it. But I have learned that local garlic is very hard to come by, so I’m going to give it a shot. It will be quite a change from tree crops. One thing I think is underappreciated about agriculture is the vast differences in knowledge and infrastructure to grow different kinds of crops. I try to be polite when sustainably-minded suburban friends suggest that we just grow X instead of Y, but I have a line rattling around in my brain about the difference between painting a portrait and painting a house. Like painters, not all farmers do the same thing.

Continuing in the vein of new crops, next spring should see our first harvest of Star Ruby grapefruit, Sanguinelli blood oranges, and Cara Cara navel oranges. Probably not enough for any meaningful contribution to the bottom line, but it will be great to get the chance to introduce them to our customers (and eat more than one or two.)

Sustainability and viability are always on my mind, and  these factored into the garlic and fig decisions. Citrus fruit in California is potentially threatened by the Asian Citrus Psyllid insect, which is a vector for Citrus Greening disease, or Huanglongbing virus. This has devastated much of Florida’s citrus industry, and as excited as I am about new specialty citrus varietals, I need to hedge our bets. Garlic and figs? Not affected by it. Avocados have had a rough ride the past few years, because as a subtropical fruit, the “extremes” of Southern California weather can push them to their limits. Will our weather be more extreme over the next few years, as it has been for the last three? It seems prudent to think so. Garlic and figs are well known to be capable of thriving with much higher highs and much lower lows. The fact that they have lower summertime irrigation requirements has got to help too, don’t you think?

Dilemma or Delusion?

 I have followed with interest a debate which has been bouncing around between Facebook, Grist and the American regarding organic versus conventional agriculture.

Links to the relevant articles here and here.

At the risk of being attacked from both sides, I would posit that neither is quite right, and yet both are correct. Does that sound like a political BS non-answer? Let me dig my hole deeper…

 “Conventional” farmers and those on that side of the debate often claim that “organic farming can’t feed the world.” To date that is correct. But that does not mean that it may not be true at some point in the future. But first organic/sustainable food systems will have to overcome some very serious obstacles about scale, efficiency and distribution models.

Organic advocates often point out that agriculture as practiced today will be untenable for the next 100 years. This is also correct. But they miss the point that farming is no more likely to remain static in the coming century than it was in the last. The usage of no-till practices, covercrops, and highly efficient means of irrigation are on the rise, and these innovations are coming from the ag community.

It is my belief that we are in a period of convergence between the two. In Omnivore’s Dilemma, the book at the center of this particular exchange, Michael Pollan examines one transitional model: the so called “Industrial Organic.” I think that this a good example of the blurring of the line between the two camps. I also believe that there is another possibility… Let’s call it “Artisanal Conventional.” What of a farm that sells produce both into mainstream channels as well as to local consumers and food artisans, yet will still use a little conventional fertilizer when called for? (Disclosure to those who may not know me: this is my model.)

There are an awful lot of farms that fall into a gray area between the two poles, and at the further risk of seeming self-serving, I do believe that it is in the middle, and not at the extremes, that we will see the future. And I do believe it is one we will be happy with.

A final anecdote: Yesterday I was at a meeting of sustainable food systems types in Los Angeles. It was mentioned in passing that another member of the circle who was not present at the time was going to be attending a $1000 a plate fundraiser. This was accepted as proof that his organic business model must be working. Indeed it seems to be. But from my small semi-conventional farmer perspective it seemed to me that his ability to do this had more to do with an operation that is roughly 50 times my size, than the fact that his produce is organic. I don’t bring this up to complain: I cite it as evidence that the usual big/small, conventional/organic dichotomies that we so quickly embrace in these debates are not always that well reflected in reality.

Is Local Food Liberal?

I read a good article by my friend Larry Yee this weekend about the way that supermarkets are fudging (“abusing” or “exploiting” if you prefer) the term “local” in their produce sections. Much of the online commentary was supportive, but a couple of readers, deducing that an educated Ojai  type is probably a “liberal”, dutifully set about ridiculing his ideas. I don’t think Larry would dispute the liberal label, but there was nothing in his piece demanding socialized healthcare, gay marriage, or whatever other issue is this month’s Grave Threat to America. His basic points: Know the people you do business with, buy hometown products, and if it’s not the truth, don’t use it to sell your product.

Perhaps Larry is a conservative after all.

Americans have gotten pretty comfortable with the easy right/left, liberal/conservative labeling system. Just about any issue can be quickly divided up, and you can predict with great accuracy who will be on either side of a debate. I think the popularity of the “Red State/Blue State” terminology is due to it being simpler just to drop the pretext that our partisan battles are even rooted in a coherent philosophy.

But food issues just don’t work that way. As an independent and natural contrarian I find it funny to watch the inconsistencies. Much of our food industry is kept alive by big government programs and subsidies paid for with our tax dollars. Yet when liberals suggest that a better system might be more innovative, entrepreneurial, and small business friendly, conservatives attack. Really? Shouldn’t true conservatives embrace a roll-back of the government’s intrusion into the marketplace for food? After all, that is what is at the heart of many of the buy-local and slow-food concepts. On the other hand, liberals rarely grasp that many of today’s food system problems derive from deliberate and well meaning policy decisions to have the federal government ensure enough food for a healthy population. Monsanto and other agribusiness giants are as much a result of our cheap-food policies as the cause. This has led me to an observation:

Sometimes no policy is better than bad policy. (Now I sound libertarian…)

My great fear is that we will create a system that enjoys the worst of both worlds. Will we maintain the big government system of subsidies for crops that we now produce out of proportion to our actual need for them, while simultaneously using other tax dollars to restrict and discourage their consumption? Does that sound absurd? We do it already in tobacco. Will we allow small, entrepreneurial food networks to flourish, or will we tax and regulate them to the point that only largest, most sophisticated can survive? In short, rather than creating a new more flexible, more innovative food system, will we simply graft new bad ideas on top of the old?

Agribusiness and Change: Or thanking T. Rex for your Breakfast

You  know, I’ve never liked the term “agribusiness”. Business has always been a component of agriculture. Yes, it entails land stewardship, and crop science, and just good, old-fashioned hands-in-the-dirt work. But those of us who do it for a living have no reason either to feel apologetic for wanting to make a profit, or feel inferior because we don’t wear expensive suits in a glass and chrome office. “Agribusiness” is useful for vilifying corporate farming, or for making insecure farmers or businessmen feel more important. I’m not much interested in either.

What I am interested in is a return to grass roots, bottom up, entrepreneurial farming. And while I appreciate the support and enthusiasm of foodies, academics and policy wonks, what we really need are people who have an enthusiasm for this business. In the part of my life spent in Silicon Valley, I observed an ethos that changing the world and making a profit did not need to be mutually exclusive. In fact, it was generally felt that making the world a better place was precisely what entitled you to significant financial rewards. (I’ll grant that some people in the Valley got a little bit drunk on this Kool-Aid, but I still like the philosophy, at least in moderation.)

This is why I was very happy to read a piece that Rob Smart posted on Civil Eats. Real change will not come externally and it will not come with a single lightning bolt from on high. Farms and small businesses will be the ones that create the models and the relationships and the innovations that will transform our present food system, just a bit at a time, until we have something much better than we have today. While I hope the pace of change will be rapid, I do believe it will be evolutionary, not revolutionary.

Let’s imagine the food system we want as being represented by a chicken.

Small. Adaptable. Friendly. Managable. Chickens are the embodiment of local scale. There is a reason that they are the iconic emblem of the idealized happy barnyard.

But what is the ancestor of this chicken? The fearsome Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Huge. Predatory. Not very pleasant to interact with, I would imagine. A good representation of today’s food system perhaps? I think so. How did we get from T. Rex to the Rhode Island Red?

Despite the occasional meteor or ice-age, it happened just one little innovation at a time.

CDFA on the chopping block?

Given California’s budget problems, a move is afoot to severly reduce or eliminate the California Department of Food and Agriculture. With a rapidly shifting agricultural economy, threats from many invasive pests, a spat of food safety issues, and no reliable climate models for the future, is this the right time for this? And hey… if I’m the guy speaking in favor of retaining a bureaucracy, you know it has got to be serious.

I’ve been meaning to formulate a piece on this, but my friend Rose Hayden-Smith beat me to it. I’ll see if she really does read this blog, by linking to her well-thought-out piece from Civil Eats below:

http://civileats.com/2009/06/16/proposal-to-cut-california-dept-of-food-and-agriculture-a-bad-idea-for-the-nation/

About SOAR

I am a believer in representative democracy, which is the more positive way of saying I am not a fan off California’s all-pervasive initiative system. As practiced today, this system represents and failure of our elected officials to exercise the wisdom and judgment that the voters should rightfully expect. Instead we get endless campaigns pushing narrow special interests, distorted demagoguery and finally, just plain bad policy.

A favorite local example for me is the Ventura County SOAR complex. I call it that not to make it sound ominous, but because I think it is a real mess. SOAR stands for Save Our Agricultural Resources. But it applies to a series of City ordinances governing the potential conversion of agricultural land to other uses, a county ordinance with the same objectives, and a non-profit advocacy organization of the same name. The term is also used generically to apply to active members of the organization and/or the roughly 70% of Ventura County voters who can be relied upon to vote for just about any “no-growth” ballot initiative. Since two of our 5 County Supervisors are SOAR Organization founders and Boardmembers, people frequently (if imprecisely) consider the County Government and SOAR synonymous as well.

I hope anyone who knows me or regularly reads this blog believes that I am concerned with the long term economic viability of agriculture in Ventura County. So why would I have issue with a program intended to preserve agricultural land? Frankly, because I think that it does little to advance the goal, while restricting options for agricultural landowners (not always the same thing as a farmer).

Even my most organic and liberal farming friends (Yes, we have them here in Ventura… I know conventional farmers who own Priuses!) start to sound a little libertarian when it comes to property rights. This should be understandable. After several generations of carefully stewarding an asset that typically represents nearly the entirety of their net worth, farmers don’t like to see its value diminished. For a farmer, the land is not just a job, it is a family heirloom, legacy to the children, and retirement plan. Sadly though, if a farmer opposes SOAR his concerns are pretty airily dismissed. After all, his financial motives seem clear enough.

Those of us in Agriculture bear some responsibility for this. When SOAR was being rolled out in the mid ‘90’s, we generally failed to engage in the debate. No point dignifying such hare-brained scheme. We did not engage or propose alternative means to similar ends, which are surely one that most remaining Ventura Farmers can embrace. We want to see Ag continue here. We are literally working toward that goal every day.

What to do now? Item one is engagement, and this has already begun. At our County Farm Bureau annual meeting last week, SOAR architect and County Supervisor Steve Bennett was our keynote speaker. He explained the world view of our “urban friends”. In a Q&A session that followed he heard some of the rural worldview. I think there were moments where it was quite clear that neither side had any idea what the other was saying. But both frustration and a desire for cooperation was evident on both sides of the podium.

Item two is for those of us in agriculture to really begin to get serious about the policy directions that frankly acknowledge the desires of the urban majority in this county, while being a fair and workable system for those on the land. To this point, the debate has largely focused on a false choice between SOAR or no-zoning anarchy and unlimited suburban sprawl. We need a richer palette of choices. I agree with their desire for continued agriculture, and believe that local government has a role in shaping land use. There narrow point on which we differ is that in a county with greenbelt ordinances, Williamson Act restrictions, and notoriously cumbersome planning and zoning processes, SOAR believes that an additional layer of ballot box planning review represents leadership in stewardship of the land. I feel it is bureaucratic overkill. Let’s make something better.

Having been pretty tough on the “SOAR complex” let me contradict myself and acknowledge the real passion and commitment for the continuation of agriculture that I have seen from some of the individuals within SOAR’s leadership.  Specifically, I want to thank Karen Schmidt, SOAR ‘s Executive Director, for exhaustive work that she has done in support of the Ag Futures Alliance. A typical knock on SOAR is that it is a one-dimensional means to preserve pretty viewshed for the suburbs. Karen’s efforts in developing new economic opportunities for farmers with local and regional food systems contradict this view. I have enjoyed working with her for nearly 6 years, and I hope that her systematic approach to all the whirling variables in this complex system will be a model for others, even while she and I continue to argue about the details.