Show them this.
Coming Clean
Recently, the Toronto Star carried an excellent column entitled "Agriculture's new 'golden age'" (David Olive, Mar.2/08). From this farmer's perspective, it was perceptively accurate, describing the state of grain farming with a friendly tone seldom seen in the urban media. Olive perfectly captured the effect of the rising markets for many grain farmers in his closing paragraph with the story of a Kansas corn farmer who "celebrated his good fortune by splurging on his first new washing machine in 30 years". One has to wonder how many farmers felt a jolt in their breast after reading that.
It seems strange, humiliating, to have some of our humble gratifications displayed for public viewing. Some say confession is good for the soul. But in this case, though, it may be the viewer who should feel the need for absolution. Of course, some farmers were in a position to prosper throughout that timeframe. But for others, what their wives and children endured or did without. . . . maybe next year, my dear . . . .
In my 35 years in farming, I have often shuddered at the portrayal of farm economics in the mainstream media. It does not take that long to tire of being stereotyped into the image of a hat-in-hand "po'-boy". The reality is that since the last major market upturn of the '70's, agricultural commodity values have been in stagnation, indeed, outright counter-cyclical recession in terms of real dollars. Thirty years of producing the food we need, often at prices below cost of production. We were told to get bigger, get more efficient.
One effect of undervalued commodities was the development of an immense marketplace with an increasingly voracious appetite for this cheap, dependable supply of raw products. So cheap, in fact, that we turned it into fuel for our SUV's so we could run to Starbuck's for a coffee and "if you think of it, pick up a box of cornflakes while you're out for a drive anyway".
Agriculture began to resemble a dog with no defense against fleas – eventually the fleas multiplied until the host could not produce enough blood for the parasites to suck. Something had to die in order for something else to survive. Have we reached that point on a worldwide scale? Have we blindly forged a supply/demand imbalance so great that the tipping point has been exceeded? To say "stay tuned" would be redundant – we are not observers, we are all involved. The richest flea will live.
A story of my own – in the late eighties, while living on a shoestring budget, my wife and I were reluctant to host visitors who were coming for several days. One indicator of our financial desperation was a common item that we could not afford. For guests to see it in its tattered state was a greater indignity than anyone should have to bear. The operating loan was maxed out.
Somehow, we managed to scrape together the seven or eight dollars it took to buy a new bath mat to cover the rusty floor of our bathtub. At the time, it felt like a luxury and we valued it as highly as the new shower and bathtub we recently installed.