Bringing It to the Table: On Farming and Food

Berry, Wendell. Bringing It to the Table: On Farming and Food. Counterpoint: Berkeley, CA, 2009. With an introduction by Michael Pollan.

It is hard for me to admit, ever, to being disappointed by Wendell Berry. And even now it isn't so much Berry, whom I do not know personally (I've only ever heard him speak once live), but the latest book to come out under his name that is the source of my disappointment. And it isn't what is in the book that disappoints me. The problem is that I have already read most of the content before in other books by Berry that I already own. This book should have come with a large warning on the ad page (I pre-ordered from Amazon, based on the advance copy description) that this book is 99% recycled material, pre-composted, repackaged fertilizer if you will. So, after rushing into the house to open the package when it arrived, I had that all-too-familiar sinking feeling as I flipped through the pages of my "new" book by Berry. Other than the introduction by Pollan, I've seen it all before. In fact, I now own multiple copies of most of these chapters in the form of other collections of Berry essays.

Even more annoying to me is the fact that the chapters come marked only with the date of previous publication. (Except for the fiction excerpts, which are marked by the title of the novel in question, but not with the date of publication.) Nowhere does there seem to be a note citing the locus of that previous publication. I cannot even confirm easily my suspicion that I already own (versus having merely already read) the non-fiction essay in question. And as you might expect, I do not object so much to reading something twice (if I cannot remember that I have read it already, that is my problem) as I object to purchasing it twice. As someone who is interested in the context within which ideas arise and the history of their publication and dissemination, I like to know how to track the paths of words and ideas in the world, especially those that have occurred elsewhere in a prior conversation. Here the essays seem to be lifted out of their primary location and recombined in such a way as to erase all sense of place. (I would say time and place, except that the year is duly noted at the top of each chapter.) That is something I think Berry would (or should) object mightily to, given that he is so keen to preserve local adaptation and local landscapes. If we cannot preserve the local nature of our thoughts and ideas from such globalized generalization, how will we ever preserve real farms, farmers, and food?

I will not do what should have been the author's, editor's, and publisher's work for them by tracking down and publishing the location of the previous publication of these essays, but I will do you the favor of listing the title and date of publication here so that you can check your shelves before you order:

Part I: Farming

Nature as Measure, 1989

Stupidity in Concentration, 2002 (which includes Berry's definition of "sustainable agriculture")

Agricultural Solutions for Agricultural Problems, 1978

A Defense of the Family Farm, 1986

Let the Farm Judge, 1997

Energy in Agriculture, 1979

Conservationist and Agrarian, 2002

Sanitation and the Small Farm, 1971

Renewing Husbandry, 2004

Part II: Farmers

Seven Amish Farms, 1981

A Good Farmer of the Old School, 1985

Charlie Fisher, 1996

A Talent for Necessity, 1980

Elmer Lapp's Place, 1979

on The Soil and Health, 2006

Agriculture from the Roots Up, 2004

Part III: Food

mostly drawn from Berry's fiction writing

from That Distant Land

from Hannah Coulter

from Andy Catlett

from "Misery"

from The Memory of Old Jack

from Jayber Crow

from Hannah Coulter (again)

The Pleasures of Eating, 1989

So, would I recommend the book, and if so, to whom? Clearly I wouldn't recommend the book to anyone who is well familiar with Berry's work and who owns a considerable library of Berry's fiction and non-fiction. I would recommend it to anyone who hasn't read Berry, who knows him only by reputation, and who wants a quick introduction to his thoughts about sustainable agriculture and local food. For example, I could imagine the book as assigned reading in a college course on contemporary issues, especially environmental issues. But the reader should understand that tracking down the original source of some of the essays may be difficult should he or she become "hooked" like so many of us are, including evidently Michael Pollan, on Wendell Berry's prose and poetry. (Which brings up another interesting oversight; why wasn't some of Berry's poetry included?)

You Can Farm, Part II

You Can Farm: the entrepreneur's guide to start and succeed in a farm enterprise, 1998, Polyface, Inc., Swoope, Virginia.





Part I of the review is available in the previous blog post.

Well, the week is up and I've finished the book, despite the frenetic schedule, so here are my thoughts on pp. 208-453. A lot of what what Salatin has to say is "common sense," the sort of things we would have learned in school if our schools had taught us the basics well. For example, Salatin emphasizes the usefulness of brainstorming for problem solving and for reaching our potential and how to prioritize the items in our lists based on critical judgment (Chapter 20). Salatin has a keen sense of what is important and he get's his points across in a memorable way, as in "Señor Salatin, you must poot eet doowwn," which is the 1st rule and most important commandment of accounting (Chapter 32). Perhaps the most important of these chapters for me was the one on creating a good "Filing System" (Chapter 33). There Salatin explains a filing system from his school debate team competition days, one that looks great to me, so good in fact that I'll adopt it this week. I cannot believe I got a PhD and something so basic as a good system for filing escaped me! On the other hand, if you've had as many "communications" and "writing" classes as I've had, you will want to skim or skip Chapter 36 on "Communication."

So far I've only touched on the sections that have to do with running a business. They could be applied with equal impact to any business and to many other aspects of life, not just to farming. And then there are the sections that apply more narrowly to farming: "Grass is the Center" (Chapter 22), "Biodiversity" (Chapter 23), "Water" (Chapter 24), and "Letting Animals Do the Work" (Chapter 25). There are others; these are just examples.

And what would a good review be without at least one significant disagreement between the reviewer and the author? My disagreement with Salatin is about his approach to "Soil Fertility" (Chapter 27; see also Chapter 30, "Reducing Costs"). A summary of my own understanding of soil fertility is available at the main Tumbledown Farm web site. Using Salatin's "debating" analogy, he has taken the affirmative side in this chapter in a debate regarding soil fertility and must offer both a case (what's wrong with the current system) and a plan (a solution). I think Salatin leaves something to be desired in both his case and his plan. First, his case largely dismisses the usefulness of knowing the NPK analysis of one's soil (pp. 326-328). While I agree with Salatin that industrial agriculture has been too narrowly focused on soil chemistry (the problem), I disagree that ignorance of the chemical soil analysis makes any sense as part of a good solution. I do agree that the usual response of a new gardener or farmer to the standard soil analysis is often wrong-headed and expensive--and usually not long lasting. It is wrong for all sorts of reasons (including expense) to pour fertilizers--even organic fertilizers--on the ground in a narrow attempt to address NPK deficiencies and create an "optimal" fertility that is really only a narrow measure of NPK. But knowing (for example) the pH of your soil can help you decide between the various approaches to soil building that are available (including the slow methods advocated by Salatin). There are better and worse ways to build soil, depending on the existing condition of the soil. Adopting a soil-building method that increases the acidity of an already too acid soil would not be wise. Nor would it be wise to plant potassium gobbling crops where you know there is insufficient potassium. At the very least, even if the gardener or farmer does not seek to make rapid improvements in soil condition, whatever steps are taken to build the soil should be informed decisions. And that is where Salatin is most harmful in opinions. He is simply wrong that living organisms can create necessary elements out of nothing. And when you add to this his implicit endorsement of the opinion that classic chemical soil tests are "a scam" (p. 327), you come close to gardening malpractice. Classic chemical soil tests are not as unreliable as Salatin implies and soil chemicals (with the exception of nitrogen) cannot be produced from thin air. Even the release of elements from the soil that are present in forms unusable to plants can take place only in geological time, not human lifetimes.

All that having been said, Salatin's main prescription--lots of carbon material (brown plant material, especially sawdust and wood chips) combined with lots of nitrogen (green plant material and animal urine and manure)--is a winning combination. In a way, he's right even about this: it is simple and relatively inexpensive to grow your soil. NOTE: for a great reminder that humans produce nitrogenous waste too, check out "Yellow is the New Green."

So, to quote Salatin again, why not START NOW! No need to wait another year to begin where I am with what I have. This year we'll add "pastured poultry" (quail) and livestock (pastured rabbits) to our backyard lineup, so that we begin to use those grass strips between the garden rows for something more profitable than a mud-less walking path. (See our garden plan for details.) So, why not check out your own copy of Salatin's "classic" and start your own backyard farm? Why not "Start Now!"?

I checked You Can Farm out of the library, so I have to return it tomorrow, but I know I'll eventually purchase a copy to add it to my library. It is too useful to leave to the vagaries of the recall system. In the meantime, I've already purchased the next book on the reading list...because I cannot get it from the library:

You Can Farm, Part I

You Can Farm: the entrepreneur's guide to start and succeed in a farm enterprise, 1998, Polyface, Inc., Swoope, Virginia.

I couldn't wait another week, by which time I will have devoured the book despite an altogether frenetic schedule, to begin writing the review. I am convinced that Joel Salatin will be my new favorite author, close on the heels of Wendell Berry and Gene Logsdon. Part I of the review will cover chapters 1-19 (pp. 1-207 of 453).

The book reminds me a lot of Harvey W. Wiley's The Lure of the Land: Farming after Fifty, but almost a full century later! But the same sense of sanity and full awareness of the difficulties, and possibilities, of starting in farming are in evidence in both. The great thing about Salatin, of course, is that you do not have worry that the differences are too great between the previous century and this one or that changes have mitigated the usefulness of the advice. The book is full of inspiration and hope...and, have I said it enough? Realism!

Having just read Firms of Endearment: How World-Class Companies Profit from Passion and Purpose, I was pleased to see a "practical farmer" recognize and prioritize the Vision! You've got to be able to see it and dream it to realize it. Chapter One leads with this theme, followed by the importance of Story (chapter 2) and the Right Philosophy (chapter 3). In business parlance (even the not-for-profit sort that I'm associated with), this is all about Mission and Vision work. Salatin is right to emphasize it, prioritize it, and return to it as a theme throughout the book.

Chapter 4, "Do It Now," has to be my favorite (so far)! The point is not to wait for the perfect opportunity to start farming, because the perfect opportunity never comes. There are corollaries, of course, one of which doesn't show up until Chapter 13 (watch out for the irony), "Acquiring Land." The point of Chapter 13 (and some of Chapter 14) is not to wait until you can acquire land to begin farming. Land acquisition comes after success, as a result of success, not before. As Salatin says (p. 158), "Acquiring wealth...is an offensive posture and is generally best done by renting." Land investments are made by the wealthy in order to preserve wealth, which is a defensive posture. Man does that ever make sense, especially in today's mortgage mess. Much of what Salatin recommends would have been a powerful antidote to the excesses of the past few years and would have saved anyone who followed it from the sorts of financial ruin we are seeing now. At any rate, do not wait until you can purchase the picture perfect farm to begin farming...or you'll never begin. ...and above all, do not mortgage yourself deeply to buy the farm or you'll be back in your (other) day job sooner than you think.

Round these out with chapters on Surveying Your Situation (Chapter 5, something like a SWOT list emerges), along with lists of the worst (Chapter 9) and best (Chapter 10) "centerpiece" agricultural/farming opportunities, and additional advice (Top 10 lists of all sorts), makes the first half of this book indispensable to anyone wanting to farm on any scale.

One of the most sobering aspects, for me, was the straight talk about age and farming (also a big aspect of Wiley's book, as the subtitle suggests). I'm not getting any younger. One thing Salatin is surely saying is that I'll need to find a young partner if I ever entertain the notion of quitting my day job to go into farming full time.

So, why not START NOW! No need to wait another year to begin where I am with what I have. ...but I'll at least wait until I've read the second half of the book! Why not check out your own copy and see if you can beat me to the end?

Everything I Want to Do Is Illegal

Salatin, Joel. Everything I Want to Do is Illegal. Polyface, Inc. Swoope, VA, 2007.

What a bracing breath of fresh air! I do not know where I first read about Joel Salatin and his "Farm of Many Faces," but whoever first recommended him did not do justice to Salatin's unique voice and perspective. I had devoured 100 pages--laughing and crying, sympathizing and shouting in anger--before I was rudely interrupted and had to set the book aside. Without the interruption, I am sure I would have finished all 326 pages (and perhaps even re-read it) in a single sitting.

So, what makes Everything I Want To Do Is Illegal: War Stories From the Local Food Front so different?

First, it is Salatin's unerring good sense. His BS detector is set on high alert and he's able to point out the obvious contradictions between the food safety laws as they are written and carried out and real food safety. Time after time, with Mark Twain (or Andy Griffith "Aw shucks" style) humor, Salatin eviscerates the bureaucratic opposition and shows how it just makes good sense to let small-time farmers process meat (and other foods) and sell locally--e.g., to sell raw milk, unwashed eggs, and cured bacon; to invite visitors (and youngsters and interns) for short and extended visits to the farm; to market and sell collaboratively (so that a farmer can sell what his neighbor has produced); build a house of less than 900 square feet; and the like. The problem is that each and every one of these actions is illegal.

Second, it is Salatin's experience. He is a farmer. And that experience shows with blood on every page and the scars to show for the bureaucratic battles. You trust a guy who has done battle with the food police this many times and won--or at least battled to a draw.

Get the book. It is a fabulous read. It needs to be on the shelf of everyone who is even thinking about getting into farming. Salatin will knock some sense into your head!

Human Limits and Unlimited Hubris

Wendell Berry. The Way of Ignorance: And Other Essays, Shoemaker & Hoard, 2005. (contributions by Daniel Kemmis and Courtney White)




Collections of essays are never as tightly constructed or coherent as a reader might wish, but this is one of those rare cases--and rare authors--for which one can truly say it does not matter. The subject of human limits--and our need to recognize and honor those limits--is of such importance and so permeates every essay in the book that the reader forgives what disjunctions do occur between individual essays. There is not a linear progression from beginning to end, but in the end who cares. The subject has been addressed thoughtfully from many directions.

Part I is the least satisfying section of the book. It is also the most political (in the stupid sense of that word), but short enough to be tolerable. Berry has written more and better about "Contempt for Small Places" and "Rugged Individualism." Tumbledown was gratified to see Berry endorse the growth of farmers markets, community supported agriculture (CSAs), sustainable agriculture, Slow Food (using all of the "movement" monikers) and the like as an alternative to "competing on the global market" and as an indicator that indeed "We Have Begun." The pace picks up toward the end of this section with one good (Compromise, Hell!) and one better ("Charlie Fisher") essay. The latter, the story of a man logging and using horses to do it, is vintage Berry.

Part II is the reason to buy the book, 98 work-horse pages in 8 little essays. The first, "Imagination in Place," tells us that Berry is a farmer-writer and a writer-farmer, and that both vocations are shaped by (and shape) the land on which he lives. A wondrously brief bibliography (library) illustrates the shape of Berry's "philosophy" of farming:

F. H. King, Farmers of Forty Centuries: Organic Farming in China, Korea, and Japan

Sir Albert Howard, An Agricultural Testament (Special Rodale Press Edition)

Sir Albert Howard, The Soil And Health: A Study of Organic Agriculture (Culture of the Land: A Series in the New Agrarianism)

J. Russel Smith, Tree Crops: A Permanent Agriculture (Conservation Classics)

Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac

If these have influenced Berry's thoughts, you can bet they'll be on Tumbledown's shelf and on his nightstand soon. How better to understand Berry's influence on my own thoughts than to read his sources (in the sense of wells and springs) independently.

The title essay, "The Way of Ignorance," first written as a conference paper for the Land Institute, Marfield Green, Kansas, is about "our old friend hubris, ungodly ignorance disguised as godly arrogance. Ignorance plus arrogance plus greed sponsors 'better living with chemistry,' and produces the ozone hole and the dead zone in the Gulf of Mexico." The thesis is that there is a congenital human ignorance and a a willful ignorance of our own ignorance (theologians would speak of original sin) that makes one shudder at the thought that our response to global warming and exhaustion of fossil fuels will be to build many, many more nuclear reactors. Having seen what gets "skipped" or "done poorly" at too many construction sites, Tumbledown has to agree that nuclear physics "'applied' by ignorant arrogance resembles much too closely an automobile being driven by a six-year-old boy or a loaded pistol in the hands of a monkey." All of that is on the first page of this dynamite essay that rings the changes on what we don't (and can't) know and why we should respect our limits. "The Purpose of a Coherent Community" is mostly a lament that we no longer have one. "Quantity vs. Form" is another demonstration that we transgress our limits at our peril--at the peril of appropriate human scale and a propriety of technological application. Medicine should be practiced by human standards (not by the standards of what machines can do). The same goes for agriculture. Limitless production is not a good thing. Limits provide the "formal completeness, grace, and beauty" of a part related to the whole. "Renewing Husbandry" is again a caution against boasting of "technological feats that will 'feed the world.'" Husbandry, according to Berry is the more comprehensive term; science the narrower, more specialized term. (Husbandry includes science.) Yet more is claimed for the much narrower science than the more comprehensive husbandry would ever dare claim. "The Burden of the Gospels" was of special interest to Tumbledown (a professional interest). It is heartening to see such straightforward readings of Scripture--especially the rejection of interpretations that come "perilously close to 'He didn't really mean it'" (Luke 14:26).

Part III consists of a letter by Berry to Daniel Kemmis (former Minority Leader and Speaker of the House in Montana, and mayor of Missoula), a reply from Kemmis to Berry. Both essays are worth reading if readers already care about the Democratic Party. If not, don't bother. The best essay of this final section is Courtney White's "The Working Wilderness: A Call for a Land Health Movement." Courtney is not predictably on any side except the side that offends both ranchers and environmentalists (and therefore probably best protects the land).

All in all, an awesome read. A book to read a second time (or at least major sections of it). A book to provoke thought. (And shouldn't every book be that?)

Ecology, Economics, Ethics: The Broken Circle

F. Herbert Bormann and Stephen R. Kellert, eds. Ecology, Economics, Ethics: The Broken Circle. Yale University Press: New Haven and London, 1991.



In addition to the dated references in a work now 16 years old, this book suffers from the usual shortcomings of academic essay collections. The essays are disconnected and poorly coordinated, being loosely arranged around the three-part theme of ecology, economics, and ethics. The essays are uneven in quality and accessibility; in other words, the book wants the professional editing to be a book. Though most of the authors are notables in the area of ecology and environmental science, few are as well versed in either economics or ethics, so the treatment is often highly technical in its arguments in one of the three areas, but bedeviled by generalities and unfounded assertions in the next. The essays range over a broad swath of issues related to environmental conservation, from biocide (the human-caused mass extinction of thousands of species; the "death of birth") to proposals for financing conservation in five sections: Species Diversity and Extinction, Modern Agriculture, Environmental Values, Pollution and Waste, and Market Mechanisms.

So, why is Tumbledown reviewing the book? First, because a few of the essays are by themselves worth the price of admission. Among these are the essays by Wes Jackson ("Nature as the Measure for a Sustainable Agriculture"; author, Becoming Native to This Place) and David Pimentel ("The Dimensions of the Pesticide Question"; author, CRC Handbook of Pest Management in Agriculture, Second Edition, Volume I). The opening essay, on biodiversity, by Edward O. Wilson (author, The Creation: An Appeal to Save Life on Earth) also falls into this category, as does Paul H. Connett's "The Disposable Society." The latter, along with sections of the essays on groundwater and wind, had Tumbledown asking whether the next person who unknowingly throws away a flashlight battery be prosecuted for crimes against humanity. (Or is that "crimes against biology"?) Many of the concerns that were front and center in the late 80's have now faded from the public eye (e.g., the landfill crisis and acid rain). That doesn't mean that they have faded from importance. Others have become more glamorous (e.g., global warming, via Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth"). This pattern of awareness and response is actually graphed in the essay by Gene Likens (p. 142; author, Long-Term Studies in Ecology: Approaches and Alternatives). Second, Tumbledown would like to see several of the essays updated. Connett's essay on "The Disposable Society," for example, provides model examples of local community and civic initiatives for reuse and repair (reusables), toxic waste exchange (toxics), composting (compostables), separation and upgrading (recyclables), and screening of mixed waste for landfills (the rest). What is the status 16 years later of these model programs? Tumbledown wonders. And are the only effective responses those devised by governments and civic organizations? In Tumbledown's humble opinion all is lost if the response is dependent on governmental action and the will of our political leaders. So is there a place for individual action by those who are convinced of the need to live according to St. Francis of Assisi's way of voluntary poverty? Is there room for "freegans" (dumpster divers) who strive to reduce their "carbon footprint," coordinating their efforts in informal, internet-based communities? Have we eliminated non-reusable packaging yet? (Of course not.) In other words, it would be helpful to have an update of the status quaestionis of this academic debate and another list of best practices and bibliography of works published on this topic in the intervening years.

Still, if you can find it, this book is worth the read. It isn't quick or easy going, but it is definitely provocative.