Whether it is “near organic,” certified, or “beyond organic,” this must be our approach to food production into the future.
The word “organic” is not perfect, but represents one of the best articulated approaches to sustainable food production that we have. We must take it back from those who would mischaracterize it, and from those industrial food companies and marketers who would use it to describe production methods that just meet the absolute minimum requirements of organic certification without regard for the philosophy and rich set of principles it represents. The word can be misunderstood and co-opted as any meaningful word can be, but rather than avoid it, we need to understand and use it well, apply its core principles broadly, and improve on the system it describes.
As I read the origins of the term, organic has roots with people who believed that natural biological processes were the best basis for healthy food production—for many reasons. The recent push in the 1990s to codify it for certification rode largely on the desire to avoid the adverse effects of synthetic pesticides, herbicides, and fertilizers on the environment—soil, water, and wildlife. This was set in the context of biologically based practices such as cover crops, diversified cropping, and natural fertility and pest control, but synthetic chemicals were a prime focus in part because they are easy to regulate.
To me, organic is not directly about us and the pesticide residues on our food, but much, much more about impacts on everything but us. A fortunate side effect is that that organic food can be safer and healthier for us, but the reduction in pesticide residues on food has come to overshadow the other primary objectives of this system. Those who can afford it but still say, “I don’t need organic food!” or “It isn’t worth the price to me!” are saying, perhaps unknowingly, that they don’t care about the soil, water, wildlife, climate change, or even the farmers and farm workers involved. They are saying, in effect, that they don’t care about the world their children will live their lives in.
Some people seem to avoid the word “organic” or the food it represents out of political correctness. They feel that to call a farmer organic is to disparage non-organic farmers. That reasoning would preclude pointing out any exemplary farmers. Some see it as food for the elite. Organic food, especially in boutique quantities and in the hands of unscrupulous marketers, can be more expensive than it needs to be. Admittedly, some people can’t pay any extra for their food, but I am talking about the vast majority of us who can.
Organic food should command higher prices to the farmer in most cases, since it takes more work, and lacks many of the agricultural and energy subsidies available to conventional food producers. Organic food prices tend to better represent the true costs of food, while conventional food externalizes many costs to society and the environment. Ironically, it is the poorer socioeconomic populations that often bear the brunt of those externalized costs of cheap food. Wise intervention programs for the poor would prioritize livable wages, food assistance, and emergency feeding that would enable them to access the very best foods that they need every bit as much as the rest of society.
Many large corporate organic food producers and marketers have found ways to just barely meet organic certification guidelines, disregard many of the less easily regulated aspects, and make a killing in the marketplace. This is disquieting to say the least—perhaps obscene, to put it bluntly. In the big picture, it could be argued that these are acres not saturated with synthetic fertilizers and pesticides, but we can and should demand much more for our dollars from these growers. In the meantime, we should look for more genuine organic products, and local organic food is the best alternative.
When buying food from afar, organic certification is one of the only ways to have any assurance that the food is grown sustainably. But when buying on the local level, the ability of consumers to meet, visit, and discuss production methods with the farmer or rancher may make certification an unnecessary expense and effort—it’s a simple business and marketing decision. The USDA would like us to reserve the term “organic” for certified products, and I would grant them some legal basis for that position. I personally refrain from calling any of our products an organic product when I think it implies that it is certified organic, but I feel free to talk about the organic methods, approaches, and philosophy we use on our small farm.
Having run the Colorado Organic Producers Association for several years in the past, I always recommend that any producer who is certified should make it clear that they and their products are certified organic. They have gone to extra expense and effort and should have that distinction made clearly. But I also value the non-certified growers who are “near organic” or “beyond organic” or follow some other organic-based system. Unverified, unclear, subjective—maybe—but exactly what direct marketing allows us to clarify in personal conversations between buyer and seller.
Buying some of your organic food from non-local sources, which most of us need to do, must be done with care. Try to see through the marketing hype, buy in quantity, avoid the highly processed foods, and be willing—if you are able—to pay more if necessary. Michael Pollan, among many others, suggests that most of us should eat less. Could the financial impact be softened a bit if we bought better food, but ate less?
Finally, the most local organic food you can get, and the cheapest, would be that which you grow yourself. Growing organically is second nature in the garden setting. It’s easier agro-ecologically in such settings. Who wants family members exposed to ag chemicals? How enjoyable and nurturing would our gardening be if we knew we were killing the soil and wildlife we depend upon? We need more people growing their own food and policies that allow those without space or resources to participate in community gardening.
Organics is about the future. Organic certification needs to evolve to incorporate more of what we know it should include—more on crop diversity, humane animal treatment, farm worker well-being, energy use, and climate and wildlife impacts. It should be seen as the path to a more sustainable future for our children. It should be seen as the only real way to feed the world in the long run. It should become the rule rather than the exception. It should be not just about us, but about caring for everything else around us as well.
Bad News for Lovers of the Pleistocene:
he yellow plume winding its way through the beautiful Animas River Valley and Durango last August is a well publicized visual — one that many wish would just go away. Not so fast. This was a real disaster and one that we must learn from — a teachable moment on many counts.
With my lens of local food, I was concerned about the irrigating farmers and ranchers, the immediate impact of shutting down ditches, losing an entire cutting of hay in some cases, Navajo and other farmers downstream, and lingering worries about sediments waiting to be stirred up. What became clear was that this was an eye-opening illustration of how the health of our local foodshed — that area we should look first for our food and that area we should feel most responsible for — is so connected to the health of the surrounding landscape.