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The conventional view that agriculture was displaced by industry in two stages-by the industrial revolution in the
late nineteenth century and. as a result of the rise of the agribusiness system in the mid-twentieth century-has left
many observers of the contemporary issues with the impression that to deal with agriculture is essentially to
focus on political-economic history, rather than contemporary political economy. Nothing could be further from
the truth. The purpose of this book is to help compensate for the neglect that agriculture has often suffered in
political-economic literature of the late twentieth century, and to assist what is fast becoming a powerful
resistance movement in the agricultural realm.
Historically, the significance of agriculture to the origin and development of capitalism cannot be
overemphasized. The development of capitalism in England depended on the increasing surpluses resulting from
an agriculture in the throes of major technical and social transformations. And England's distinctive patterns of
land holding created a new kind of market dependency in agricultural production that was critical to the initiation
of dynamic capitalist relations geared to constant productivity growth (see Wood, chapter 1). In subsequent
development, the rise of industry in no way left agriculture behind but was mirrored (indeed in some cases
prefigured) at each stage by changes in the latter.
Agriculrure which has been dominated for decades in the United States and, more recently in the rest of the
world, by large agribusiness corporations, is now once again undergoing rapid even unprecedented change. To
be sure, much of this story - concentration and centralization of capital and exodus of peasants and farmers from
the land - is not new. But the trends witnessed in agriculture in the late twentieth century are distinctive in
several important respects. Concentration and centralization and rural dispossession within this sector are being
reinforced by new technological innovations, particularly in the area of biotechnology, leading to such
developments as the proletarianization of the farmer, and to the appropriation of ownership and control of
indigenous plants and animals in third world countries. The global commodification of agriculture has its
counterpart in the destruction of peasant and small-scale agriculture throughout the world. Subsistence farming is
in decline in the third world while the production of luxury crops for export to the rich countries is being
expanded as never before. The result is a rise in world food supplies, together with an increase in world hunger.
So sharp are these contradictions that hunger is expanding in the United States itself, at the very heart of the
system, where it is no longer surprising to see food lines and soup kitchens even during economic expansions.
The growth of agribusiness has also generated more and more ecological problems through the subdivision of
traditional diversified farming into specialized production, the break in the soil nutrient cycle, the pollution of
land and water (and food itself) with chemicals, soil erosion and other forms of destruction of agricul rural
ecosystems, and so on. These developments in world agriculture, however, have not gone unanswered.
Movements dedicaced to promoting sustainable agriculture, fighting hunger, supporting family- and small-scale
farming, and staving off ecological destruction have sprouted from the rural and urban grassroots everywhere:
locally, nationally, and globally. Our purpose in compiling the essays for this book is to provide the basis for a
coherent analysis of these developments.
The essays in Hungry for Profit are focused on the political economy of agriculture, food, and ecology. Each
article adopts a historical approach while at the same time focusing on issues of current concern and of
importance for the future. Further, each of the essays is a critique in the classical sense of striving to penetrate a
contradictory reality in order to develop the means for transcending it. Capitalism presents us with the
paradoxical reality of a rapid growth of food production and perpetuation of overproduction (relative to markets
and income distribution) on one hand, accompanied by the reinforcement of social exclusion and thus the growth
of hunger on the other. The latter is not, as is sometimes thought, mainly a result of population growth (which
has generally been surpassed by the growth of productivity in agriculture), but instead a consequence of the fact
that the immediate object of food production is not human sustenance and well-being but the growth of profits.
The coincidence of hungry mouths with overflowing grain silos may seem to be a paradox, but it is a paradox not
of our analysis, but of capitalist agribusiness itself.
There can no longer be any doubt today, at the turn of the twenty-first century, that we are in the midst of an
unusually rapid change in all aspects of the world's agriculture-food system. This system consists of the farmers
who produce the food, but also the huge industry that supplies farmers with inputs, from seeds to fertilizers to
tractors to fuel, and the even larger industry that processes, packages, and distributes the food. And, although
international trade in agricultural products has occured for centuries, the pace at which the world is being bound
together by trade and the penetration of third world agricultre by the largest of corporations is also quickening
(see McMichael. chapter 7).
Traditionally, the various activities of different parts of the agriculcurefood system have involved many playersnumerous suppliers of inputs, mill1ions of farmers, many purchasers of agricultural commodities, and processors
and distributors of food-and have often been portrayed as the textbook example of free-market competition. In
Monopoly Capital (1966), Paul Baran and Paul Sweezy discussed the process of the increasing concentration and
centralization of production under a mature capitalism, which results in a few "corespective" firms dominating
most industrial sectors. Under these conditions, a handful of giant corporations control the bulk of a particular
market, and the struggle over market share is more by advertising, product differentiation, and brand
identification than price competition.
The process of concentration and centralization of the agriculture and food sectors of the economy is occurring
later than in the nonfarm industrial sectors. But recent decades have witnessed a starling pace of concentration of
suppliers of agricultural inputs that farmers must purchase (such as seeds, fertilizers. pesticides. and machinery)
as well as concentration in the food processing, distribution, and retail sectors, where a relatively small number
of food conglomerates now play a dominant role (see Heffernan. chapter 3).
How food is produced and how it gets from farm fields to people's tables (the entire food system) is something
that obviously concerns everyone. Today there is growing popular fear over possible pesticide contamination of
food as well as with the microbiological safety of the food supply. Recent outbreaks of illness have been
associated with a variety of contaminated products-meat, juice, fruits, and vegetables. Concern also is growing in
the United States and abroad over the safety of food made from genetically modified crops. But the food safety
question so much on people's minds is only one small part of the picture. Other important issues include
concentration of ownership and control in the production, processing, and marketing of food; safety of farmers
and farmworkers when using pesticides; the heavy dependence on nonrenewable resources; environmental
consequences of widespread use of genetically modified plants, animals, and microorganisms; contamination of
surface- and groundwaters with pesticides and nutrients; low returns for most farmers; low wages and poor
working and living conditions for farmworkers; cruel treatment of livestock; and inadequate access to food by
poor people. The negative influences of current agricultural practices on ecological systems at the local, regional,
and global levels affect the lives of all of us as well as many other species (see Foster and Magdoff, chapter 2,
and Altieri, chapter 4). The environmental, social, and economic problems are intertwined, and all are related to
the structure of agriculture as it has developed in the late twentieth century.
There are now few buyers for most raw agricultural products. This has left farmers without truly free markets to
sell their commodities. Although supply and demand forces, when at their extremes, certainly influence the
prices of agricultural commodities, prices for most agricultural commodities have generally remained low and
the farmer's share of the food dollar (after paying for input costs) has steadily declined from about 40 percent in
1910 to less than 10 percent in 1990. The enormous power exerted by the largest agribusiness/food corporations
allows them essentially to control the cost of their raw materials purchased from farmers while at the same time
keeping prices of food to the general public at high enough levels to ensure large profits. It is no accident that the
food industry is the second most profitable one in the United States, following pharmaceuticals!
While Baran and Sweezy wrote persuasively and perceptively about how concentration and centralization of
capital was occurring and would decisively affect national economies and societies, several of the essays in this
collection point to how these concentration and centralization processes are being shaped by the globalization of
capital in agriculture and agro-food systems. Heffernan's essay portrays the breakneck pace of concentration and
centralization of agribusiness capital at a global scale. McMichael notes that the emergence of new global trade
rules over the past twenty-five years-culminating in the World Trade Organization, the North American Free
Trade Agreement, other regional trade agreements, and the proposed Multilateral Agreement on Investment
(MAl)-has contributed to the expansion of global sourcing of foodstuffs and to the growth of export-oriented
production in the third world.
Just as remarkable as the globalization of the agro-industrial chain of production and distribution are the trends
in the United States and most other nations toward the industrialization of agriculture and contractual integration.
Recognizing that farming tends not to be very profitable and that cheapening the cost of obtaining raw food
products is a key to corporate profitability, agribusiness firms have begun to develop "industrial"-or factorystyle-production systems and contractual integration arrangements in which the decisions about how to produce
crops and animals are increasingly being taken over by the large agribusinesses (see Lewontin, chapter 5). In the
extreme situation, such as poultry growers under contract to Tyson or Perdue, or hog producers under contract to
Murphy Family Farms, independent farmers are reduced to the position oflaborers, but without the rights of
workers to collectively bargain.
Contractual integration in the white and red meat sectors (especially broilets and hogs) is closely associated with
industrialized or "facrory" farming. Meat packets and processors prefer factory farming because it provides them
with large, predictable quanities of uniform commodities. Though factory farming and contractual integration are
often justified in terms of the need to respond to "consumer preferences," consumers more often than not oppose
factory farming, and there appear to be few benefits for consumers from these types of production systems. The
development of factory farms, which produce animals under the most cruel conditions as part of a vertically
integrated production system, has also resulted in the separation of the animals from the land that produces their
feed (see Foster and Magdoff, chapter 2). This phenomenon is in addition to the separation of the mass of the
population from the land that occurred when industrialization caused the migrations to urban centers (a process
that continues to this day in Third World countries, with or without commensurate industrialization). The
ecological consequences of that earlier process were outlined by Marx in Capital.
As is generally the case for relatively small-scale producers of commodities under capitalism, farmers are on a
tradmill in which the downward pressure on prices they receive-and/or the upward pressure on inputs needed for
production-force them to adopt new technologies and to increase the scale of production in an attempt to stay in
business. (It has been said that farming is one of the few businesses that pays retail prices for inputs and sells its
products at wholesale prices.) As the financial returns of farmers decline per unit of output, in order to reap the
same returns as before the farmers are told that they must get larger or get out. The treadmill that this creates is
indicated by an old New England saying:we grow more corn, to feed more cows, to make more milk, to buy
more land, to grow more corn," However, a recent study of dairy farmers in New York State showed that their
profit per cow decreased as production per cow and herd size increased. More production is needed just to stand
The physical advantages that accrue to increasing production scale (mainly more efficient use of labor and
machinery) reach their limits fairly quickly in agriculture. For most commodities medium-sized family farms are
as or more efficient than larger, more industrial ones, But that doesn't mean that there aren't real pecuniary
advantages to very large farms in a capitalist economy they rypically receive a premium for the commodities
they sell because of their large volumes, pay less for purchased inputs and for interest on borrowed money, and
have more opportunity for making profits through the use of hired labor.
In the most industrialized and "integrated" sectors such as broilers, "open markets" disappear, and only those
producers who have production contracts with processors and other agribusiness "integrators" are able to find a
market for their products. A number of publicly funded agricultural experiment stations have also tended to give
more attention to factory producers-who account for a very small share of their clientele-than to the far more
numerous, but less influential family-scale farmers.
Those who can't keep up with the treadmill of producing on an ever-increasing scale tend to be forced out of
farming, and their children are discouraged from entering farming. This is what has been responsible for the
drastic decline in the numbers of farms in many countries; in the United States from close to 7 million in the
1930s to about 1.8 million by the mid-1990s. And as farmers left the land, the effects on minorities were
devastating. From a high of 14 percent of all U.S. farms being owned by blacks in the 1930s, today less than 1
percent are black-owned. The bulk of decline in farms occurred from the end of the Second World War through
the early 1970s, when farm numbers stabilized at approximately 2.0 million and declined by only 0.2 percent a
year through the early 1980s. (Although there has recently been an increase in the number of minority-owned
farms, mainly among Mexicans and Asians, they still represent a very small percent of total farms.) During the
severe "farm crisis" of the 1980s, U.S. farm numbers again declined at a rapid pace (of approximately 17 percent
per decade), but are now declining at a slower rate. The rates of decline in farms have been particularly startling
in the livestock sectors that are undergoing the most rapid industrialization and movement toward factory
farming. Since the early 1980s the numbers of broiler, hog, and dairy farmers have declined at about 4.0 to 4.5
percent per year.
Philip McMichael (chapter 7) stresses that one of the key provisions of the Uruguay General Agreement on
Tariffs and Trade (GATT) Round which culminated in the establishment of the World Trade Organization
(WTO) was the dismantling of agricultural commodity programs, which since the Second World War have
served, albeit vay imperfectly, to put a floor under domestic commodity prices. The U.S. government wasted
little time in complying with the Uruguay Round Agreement, having done so, in the form of the Federal
Agriculrural Improvement and Reform Act (FAIR) of 1996. As this book goes to press we are in the midst of
another era of hardship and bankruptcies caused by the phasing out of the farm commodity program safety ner,
and by continuing low prices received by farmers for the basic agricultural commodities such as wheat, corn, and
soybeans. This year, as last, an "emergency" farm-aid bill was passed by the U.S. Congress in response to the
low prices of farm products.
As farm numbers declined during the last half century, the average farm size increased and the largest of farms
have come to account for a sizable proportion of production. At present, the 122,000 largest farms in the United
States, representing only 6 percent of the total number, receive close to 60 percent of total farm receipts. These
large farms have also been able to reap a disproportionate amount of government support payments, receiving
over 30 percent of the payments for the commodity programs.
In the Third World, displacement of farmers under internal pressures, as well as external pressures arising from
growing imports from the first world, has led to a loss of huge numbers of people from the land, and has resulted
in the swelling of cities (see Araghi, chapter 8). One of the consequences has been increased hunger because of
less non-market access to sources of food, particularly by way of peasant self-provisioning from household plots
of land. The unfair advantages of the more powerful transnational corporations in shaping world trade in food
only accelerates these trends toward "depeasantization.
As U.S. farmers have been squeezed by the trends mentioned above and as Third World farmers have left their
fields in increasing numbers, the conditions of U.S. farmworkers have remained dismal (see Majka and Majka,
chapter 9). Many of the gains made by the successful unionization drives of the 1970s and early 1980s have been
reversed. The increased immigration of farmworkers from Mexico and Central America, and the high rate of
worker turnover has made it exceedingly difficult to maintain the organizing momentum.
A number of technological fixes have been proposed for the environmental problems of agriculture and food. For
example, instead of solving food safety problems by shortening the distance between the point of production and
the point of consumption, and producing animals in a small-scale, stress-free, pleasant and clean environment,
industry has been promoting irradiation of meat as a cure to bacterial contamination.
A good example of misplaced priorities is that of "precision farming." Over the past few years chemical and
farm-machinery companies have been pushing precision (or "Prescription") farming, whereby through the use of
global positioning technology (developed by military contractors as part of Reagan's "Star Wars" initiative),
yield monitors, extensive field sampling and mapping, and variable application rate machinery, it is possible to
apply agrichemicals according to the supposed needs of different puts of a field. It is clearly the case that for
decades many fertilizers and pesticides have been applied at higher rates than are economically justifiable.
Proponents of precision farming believe that this technology can tailor doses of chemicals to the specific
characteristics of small parts of a field, and thereby avoid overusing chemicals on plots of land where the
chemicals result in little additional yield. There is little evidence, however, that the precision technology brings
any better environmental results than could be obtained with common sense reductions in the use of
agrichemicals based on previously available methods. And in many cases it has been found that farmers
employing precision farming techniques use a greater overall level of chemicals than they did before.
The push toward biotechnology is being driven by corporations looking for ways to expand their profit-making
potential (see Lewontin and Middendorf et al., chapters 5 and 6). While the quest for profits is hardly unique to
biotechnology firms, the way that the biotechnology industry developed historically has made this quest a
particularly frantic one. The agricultural biotechnology industry dates fromthe early 1980s. With a very few
exceptions, the billions of dollars invested in crop and livestock biotechnology research since the early 1980s
yielded virtually no commercial products by the mid-1990s. Thus, with staggering investments but no significant
revenues, agriculrural biotechnology firms have been particularly intent in the 1990s on the need ro speed up the
introduction of products into the market. The tendency has been for these corporations to release as many
products as possible, many of which have some significant shortcomings, and then convince farmers that they
need the particular products that have been developed. Bovine growrh hormone, for example, can increase milk
production by 10 percent or more per cow. This is a dubious advantage, however, when the price of milk
received by farmers has declined in real terms (corrected for inflation) by over half since the early 1980s, and
when the number of dairy farmers is already declining by about40 percent each decade. As noted by Lewontin,
other first-generation biotechnology products, such as Bt-engineered and herbicide-tolerant crop varieties, have
significant liabilities as well. Even the more environmentally benign "identity-preserved" biotechnology
products, which can potentially increase the quality of food products, are likely to serve as the newest frontier for
capical to extract profits from agriculture, and through "integration" will serve to convert more farmers into
essentially being a proletariat that nominally "owns," but has lost control over, its own land (see Lewontin,
chapter 5).
There have been many responses around the world to the negative effects of the developing monopoly capital
control of the agriculture-food system. In Third World countries there have been efforts against the patenting of
plant generic information (which really constitutes the common heritage of the world's people, and is to a large
extent the cultural product of indigenous peoples over many generations), as well as struggles against the trade
treaties, such as the World Trade Organization and NAFTA, that tie countries closer together by exposing all to
the full force of the market in which the more powerful gain and the less powerful lose out. Farmers and the
general public in Europe are trying to resist the importation of genetically modified grains (like "Roundup
Ready' soybeans) and beef produced using hormone stimulants.
In the United States, literally hundreds of organizations have been formed to struggle against one or another of
the many problems (see Henderson, chapter 10). These organizations and groups have fought for changes in state
and national laws, have promoted research aimed at developing practices that are appropriate for
environmentally sound farming on a small to medium scale, have specifically promoted organic agriculture, and
have provided direct assistance for farmers to help them survive in a very hostile climate.
Critical developments during 1999 have put the purveyors of genetically modified seeds on the defensive. There
was an immense reaction in the Third World and Europe to the possible introduction of technology that would
produce sterile crop seeds, so that farmers would be forced to buy new seeds annually (see Lewontin and
Middendorf et al., chapters 5 and 6, for discussion of the "terminator" gene.) This backlash has forced Monsanto
first to put the introduction of the technology on hold and then to back out of the acquisition that would have
given them access to the terminator technology. In response to concerns both at home and abroad about
environmental and food safety effects, it is projected that lower prices will be paid to farmers growing
genetically modified crops. This, combined with the meager returns even hefore there was a price differential,
has made many farmers question the economics of continuing to grow these crops. For the first time since their
introduction, a major decrease in acreage planted to genetically modified crops is projected for 2000 (Wall Street
Journal, Nov. 19. 1999). Activists are convincingly and loudly arguing for mandatory labeling of foods made
from genetically modified crops. For years biotechnology firms, along with U.S. government officials, have
tirelessly made the case that "the market" should control the introduction of new technologies. Now, however,
these firms and government agencies are fighting against labeling of biotechnology food-the only way that the
public can actually have a choice. The biotech industry, including Monsanto, DuPont, and Novartis, has
launched a counter-offensive to take on the critics of genetically modified crops (New York Times, Nov. 12,
1999). The fight against genetically modified foods is currently the leading edge of a strugg1e by farmers and the
general public against complete corporate control of the food system.
It has often been suggested that most farmers can't survive by selling undifferentiated commodities such as
wheat, corn, apples, milk, and meat to wholesale processors because of the unequal power relations between
direct producers and agribusinesses. Thus, it is believed that to thrive in an era dominated by giant agribusiness
corporations farmers must either find a niche crop that few others are growing, start their own processing
business (to capture some of the added value to their agricultural product), or sell directly to the public through
farmers markets or Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) farms, where people buy shares in the production
of the farm before the season starts. Some of these groups concede the loss of the mass of agricultural production
to corporate agribusiness and the largest farms. Each of the proposed solutions may help those individual farmers
with entrepreneurial skills, or boost those who enjoy working with the public. But while there certainly are some
niches available, once they are developed and other farmers start to get into the same enterprise, the niche
becomes less lucrative. It cannot offer relief for the mass of farmers. Moreover, once a particular niche grows
into a large-scale operation (as in the case of today's organic food industry) it will inevitably face new pressures
from agribusiness determined to monopolize all large-scale, lucrative markets.
A paralel social movement has developed in response to the persistence of hunger in the midst of plenty and the
decrease in support of food distribution through governmental programs. Many efforts have taken place all over
the United States ro remedy this problem, including soup kitchens, the opening up and expanding of food shelf
pantries that distribute food to the poor, and many corporate or organizational food drives that collect food for
later distribution. Nevertheless, the focus has all too often been simply on hunger and what can be done to
alleviate it, without going deeper to underlying causes (see Poppendieck, chapter 11).
In the noncapitalist world (i.e., Cuba) and the formerly noncapitalist world (i.e., China), two countries are
attempting very different pathways in a sea of change. Cuba is facing severe dislocations caused by the breakup
of the Soviet Union. lt is under severe pressure because of the lack of fuel and access to other inputs needed to
run the high-input, large-scale production system they copied from the Russians. The Cuban state and farmers
have turned to small-scale production, in many cases using animal power and organic agricultural techniques
(see Rosset, chapter 12). They are also encouraging urban gardening to help provide food during this crisis.
China, in contrast, is moving in a very different direction. The government, as part of its program to achieve and
maintain very high rates of income growth through reintroducing capitalist relations, has largely disbanded the
agricultural cooperatives. Agricultural plots have been sliced up into narrow strips (see Hinton, chapter 13).
Because there is little animal power available and the individual strips are too small to justify use of tractors
(which are now mainly used for transportation), most farmers are not able to do a good job of managing their
fields. Farmers routinely burn crop residues, just to get rid of them, instead of incorporating them into the soil to
make it more fertile, improve its structure, and make it more healthy. Instead of supporting small-scale, resourceefficient agriculture as in Cuba, the infrastructure being developed under government direction (fertilizer and
other agrichemical factories) is aimed at high-input systems. Better soil and crop management under these
conditions would seem to call for consolidating small strips into larger units of production. Ironically, the effects
of the extensive land reform of 1947, a cricical part of the success to date of the country's agriculture, has
provided an important buffer to the Chinese peoples' food supply as the government heads in the direction of
It is clear that the current food system in all its ramifications is not beneficial for the mass of farmers or the
environment, nor does it ensure a plentiful supply of food for all people. However, it does meet the needs of a
limited group of large farmers and, of course, the sellers of agricultural inputs as well as the processors,
distributors, and sellers of food. Can tinkering with the existing capitalist system realistically be expected to
make the changes needed toward a more environmentally sound and humane food system? Such a sound and
humane system would, minimally, be one in which:
(1) People would live in greater proximity to agricultural land and animals would be raised more humanely and
reunited with the cropland that produces their feed (so nutrients can be recycled more easily with fewer
environmental problems).
(2) The power of a few corporations to control so much of food production, processing, and sales would be
broken (to make a better deal for farmers growing the food and encourage more environmencally sound farming
(3) There would be a plentiful and healthy food supply for all people.
Clearly, the changes needed are huge and go to the very foundation of capitalism. The job of creating a just and
environmentally sound food system cannot be separated from the creation of a just and environmentally sound
society. As. pointed out by Poppendieck (chapter 11), hunger is only a symptom of a larger problem-inequality
and poverty. And it is critieal to emphasize the problem and not to dwell on the symptom. Can the grassroots
efforts for food security, growing healthy food, and direct selling of food from farms to consumers be mobilized
to help in the efforts to completely transform the food system? Certainly, many sustainable agriculture and food
security activists-from a diversity of perspectives-are dedicated to making substantial changes in the food
Yet the range of groups with a stake in the transformation of agriculture is both a strength and weakness of this
movement. Family farmers, sustainable agriculture proponents, migrant farmworkers, environmentalists, healthand environmentally-conscious consumers, and third world peasants all share an interest in changing the system.
This will be a difficult alliance to cement on more than an intermittent basis. Family farmers, for example, are
petty property owners whose political leanings are seldom consistent with reducing the prerogatives of property.
Family farmers tend to be more comfortable with "right to farm" laws (which insulate producers from "nuisance"
lawsuits and from many local land use or environmental regulations) and "food disparagement" laws (like the
Texas law that was the basis of the Texas Cattlemen's Association suit against Oprah Winfrey) than they are with
environmental regulations or public programs to feed the hungry. Farmworkers continue to strive for improved
working conditions as well as higher wages. Environmental groups tend to find wilderness issues and global
environmental concerns most important, and do not usually give much emphasis to agriculture. Consumer
movements can wield great power over the short term-for example, the boycott of grapes during the California
facmworker unionization drive three decades ago was critical to its success, and consumer resistance to
biotechnology products such as bovine growth hormone and herbicide-tolerant crop varieties has recently been
significant. But consumer movements tend not to focus on anyone issue for very long-a particularly dramatic
example being the decline of anti-BGH (bovine growth hormone) activities in the United States over the past
three years. There continue to be major barriers to cooperation between farmers, farmworkers, environmental
groups, sustainable agriculture groups, and consumer organizations.
These groups' struggles offer many opponuruties for left activity by those who believe that a complete
transformation of society is needed to meet the goals of a truly just and environmentally sound food system.
Their differing interests, however, raise the difficult question of how to unite the many groups that focus on
individual but interrelated issues, all best approached with a unified focus.
Those whowish to radically transform the present agricultural-food system often focus on issues such as the
proper scale of agriculture, the question of whether food should be organized in local or global systems, and the
appropriate technology to be adopted. Although all of these questions are significant-and we should emphasize
the importance of relatively small-scale (by today's standards), local production in agricultute, using technology
appropriate to a given set of social/historical/ecological conditions-it is well to remember that such issues are
essentially secondary under present circumstances to the question of the commodification of agriculture (and
indeed of nature itself) promoted by the capitalist economy with only one end in mind: the production of profits.
"The moral of the tale, Marx wrote in Capital (vol. III, chapter 6, section 2),
is that the capitalist system runs counter to a rational agriculture, or that a rational agriculture is incompatible
with the capitalist system (even if the latter promotes technical development in agriculture) and needs either
small farmers working for themselves or the control of the associated producers.
Chapter One
One of the most well established conventions of Western culture is the association of capitalism with cities.
Capitalism is supposed to have been born and bred in the city. But more than that, the implication is that any city
with its characteristic practices of trade and commerceis by its very nature potentially capitalist from the
start, and only extraneous obstacles have stood in the way of any urban civilization giving rise to capitalism.
Only the wrong religion, the wrong kind of state, or any kind of ideological, political, or cultural fetters tying the
hands of urban classes have prevented capitalism from springing up anywhere and everywhere, since time
immemorialor at least since technology has permitted the production of adequate surpluses.
What accounts for the development of capitalism in the West, according to this view, is the unique autonomy of
its cities and of their quintessential class, the burghers or bourgeois. In other words, capitalism emerged in the
West less because of what was present than because of what was absent: constraints on urban economic
practices. In those conditions, it took only a more or less natural expansion of trade to trigger the development of
capitalism to its full maturity. All that was needed was a quantitative growth which occurred almost inevitably
with the passage of time (in some versions, of course, helped along but not originally caused by the Protestant
There are many things to be said against these assumptions about the natural connection between cities and
capitalism. Among them is the fact that they tend to naturalize capitalism, to disguise its distinctiveness as a
historically specific social form, with a beginning and (no doubt) an end. The tendency to identify capitalism
with cities and urban commerce has generally been accompanied by an inclination to make capitalism appear as
a more or less automatic consequence of practices as old as human history, or even the automatic consequence of
human nature, the "natural" inclination, in Adam Smith's words, to "truck, barter, and exchange."
Perhaps the most salutary corrective to these assumptionsand their ideological implicationsis the
recognition that capitalism, with all its very specific drives of accumulation and profit-maximization, was born
not in the city but in the countryside, in a very specific place, and very late in human history. It required not a
simple extension or expansion of barter and exchange but a complete transformation in the most basic human
relations and practices, a rupture in age-old patterns of human interaction with nature in the production of life's
most basic necessities. If the tendency to identify capitalism with cities is associated with a tendency to obscure
the specificity of capitalism, one of the best ways of understanding that specificity is to consider the agrarian
origins of capitalism.
For millennia, human beings have provided for their material needs by working the land. And probably for
nearly as long as they have engaged in agriculture they have been divided into classes, between those who
worked the land and those who appropriated the labor of others. That division between appropriators and
producers has taken many forms in different times and places, but one general characteristic they have had in
common is that the direct producers have typically been peasants. These peasant producers have remained in
possession of the means of production, specifically land. As in all pre-capitalist societies, these producers have
had direct access to the means of their own reproduction. This has meant that when their surplus labor has been
appropriated by exploiters, it has been done by what Marx called "extra-economic" meansthat is, by means of
direct coercion, exercised by landlords and/or states employing superior force, privileged access to military,
judicial, and political power.
Here, then, is the most basic difference between all pre-capitalist societies and capitalism. It has nothing to do
with whether production is urban or rural and everything to do with the particular property relations between
producers and appropriators, whether in industry or agriculture. Only in capitalism is the dominant mode of
surplus appropriation based on the dispossession of the direct producers whose surplus labor is appropriated by
purely "economic" means. Because direct producers in a fully developed capitalism are propertyless, and
because their only access to the means of production, to the requirements of their own reproduction, even to the
means of their own labor, is the sale of their labor-power in exchange for a wage, capitalists can appropriate the
workers' surplus labor without direct coercion.
This unique relation between producers and appropriators is, of course, mediated by the "market." Markets of
various kinds have existed throughout recorded history and no doubt before, as people have exchanged and sold
their surpluses in many different ways and for many different purposes. But the market in capitalism has a
distinctive and unprecedented function. Virtually everything in capitalist society is a commodity produced for
the market. And even more fundamentally, both capital and labor are utterly dependent on the market for the
most basic conditions of their own reproduction. Just as workers depend on the market to sell their labor-power
as a commodity, capitalists depend on it to buy labor-power, as well as the means of production, and to realize
their profits by selling the goods or services produced by the workers. This market-dependence gives the market
an unprecedented role in capitalist societies, as not only a simple mechanism of exchange or distribution but as
the principal determinant and regulator of social reproduction. The emergence of the market as a determinant of
social reproduction presupposed its penetration into the production of life's most basic necessity, food.
This unique system of market-dependence entails some very distinctive "laws of motion," specific systemic
requirements and compulsions shared by no other mode of production: the imperatives of competition,
accumulation, and profit-maximization. And these imperatives, in turn, mean that capitalism can, and must,
constantly expand in ways and degrees unlike any other social formconstantly accumulating, constantly
searching out new markets, constantly imposing its imperatives on new territories and new spheres of life, on
human beings and the natural environment.
Once we recognize just how distinctive these social relations and processes are, how different they are from
other social forms which have dominated most of human history, it becomes clear that more is required to
explain the emergence of this distinctive social form than the question-begging assumption that it has always
existed in embryo, just needing to be liberated from unnatural constraints. The question of its origins, then, can
be formulated this way: given that producers were exploited by appropriators in noncapitalist ways for millennia
before the advent of capitalism, and given that markets have also existed "time out of mind" and almost
everywhere, how did it happen that producers and appropriators, and the relations between them, came to be so
market dependent?
Now obviously the long and complex historical processes that ultimately led to this condition of market
dependence could be traced back indefinitely. But we can make the question more manageable by identifying the
first time and place that a new social dynamic is clearly discernible, a dynamic that derives from the market
dependence of the main economic actors. And we can then explore the specific conditions surrounding that
unique situation.
As late as the seventeenth century, and even much later, most of the world, including Europe, was free of the
market-driven imperatives outlined here. A vast system of trade certainly existed, by now extending across the
globe. But nowhere, neither in the great trading centers of Europe nor in the vast commercial networks of the
Islamic world or Asia, was economic activity, and production in particular, driven by the imperatives of
competition and accumulation. The dominant principle of trade everywhere was "profit on alienation," or
"buying cheap and selling dear"typically, buying cheap in one market and selling dear in another.
International trade was essentially "carrying" trade, with merchants buying goods in one location to be sold for a
profit in another. But even within a single, powerful, and relatively unified European kingdom like France,
basically the same principles of noncapitalist commerce prevailed. There was no single and unified market, a
market in which people made profit not by buying cheap and selling dear, not by carrying goods from one
market to another, but by producing more cost-effectively in direct competition with others in the same market.
Trade still tended to be in luxury goods, or at least goods destined for more prosperous households or answering
to the needs and consumption patterns of dominant classes. There was no mass market for cheap everyday
consumer products. Peasant producers would typically produce not only their own food requirements but other
everyday goods like clothing. They might take their surpluses to local markets, where the proceeds could be
exchanged for other commodities not produced at home. And farm produce might even be sold in markets
further afield. But here again, the principles of trade were basically the same as in manufactured goods.
These noncapitalist principles of trade existed side-by-side with noncapitalist modes of exploitation. For
instance, in Western Europe, even where feudal serfdom had effectively disappeared, other forms of "extraeconomic" exploitation still prevailed. In France, for example, where peasants still constituted the vast majority
of the population and still remained in possession of most land, office in the central state served as an economic
resource for many members of the dominant classes, a means of extracting surplus labor in the form of taxes
from peasant producers. And even rent-appropriating landlords typically depended on various extra-economic
powers and privileges to enhance their wealth.
So peasants had access to the means of production, the land, without having to offer their labor-power as a
market commodity. Landlords and office-holders, with the help of various "extra-economic" powers and
privileges, extracted surplus labor from peasants directly in the form of rent or tax. In other words, while all
kinds of people might buy and sell all kinds of things in the market, neither the peasant-proprietors who
produced, nor the landlords and office-holders who appropriated what others produced, depended directly on the
market for the conditions of their self-reproduction, and the relations between them were not mediated by the
But there was one major exception to this general rule. England, already in the sixteenth century, was developing
in wholly new directions. Although there were other relatively strong monarchical states, more or less unified
under the monarchy (such as Spain and France), none was as effectively unified as England (and the emphasis
here is on England, not other parts of the "British Isles"). In the sixteenth century, Englandalready more
unified than most in the eleventh century, when the Norman ruling class established itself on the island as a
fairly cohesive military and political entitywent a long way toward eliminating the fragmentation of the state,
the "parcellized sovereignty" inherited from feudalism. The autonomous powers held by lords, municipal bodies,
and other corporate entities in other European states were, in England, increasingly being concentrated in the
central state. This was in contrast to other European states where even powerful monarchies continued for a long
time to live uneasily alongside other post-feudal military powers, fragmented legal systems, and corporate
privileges whose possessors insisted on their autonomy against the centralizing power of the state.
The distinctive political centralization of the English state had material foundations and corollaries. First, already
in the 16th century, England had an impressive network of roads and water transport that unified the nation to a
degree unusual for the period. London, becoming disproportionately large in relation to other English towns and
to the total population of England (and eventually the largest city in Europe), was also becoming the hub of a
developing national market.
The material foundation on which this emerging national economy rested was English agriculture, which was
unique in several ways. The English ruling class was distinctive in two major and related respects: on the one
hand, as part of an increasingly centralized state, in alliance with a centralizing monarchy, they did not possess to
the same degree as their Continental counterparts the more or less autonomous "extra-economic" powers on
which other ruling classes could rely to extract surplus labor from direct producers. On the other hand, land in
England had for a long time been unusually concentrated, with big landlords holding an unusually large
proportion of land. This concentrated landownership meant that English landlords were able to use their property
in new and distinctive ways. What they lacked in "extra-economic" powers of surplus extraction they more than
made up for by their increasing "economic" powers.
This distinctive combination had significant consequences. On the one hand, the concentration of English
landholding meant that an unusually large proportion of land was worked not by peasant-proprietors but by
tenants (the word "farmer," incidentally, literally means "tenant"a usage suggested by phrases familiar today,
such as "farming out"). This was true even before the waves of dispossession, especially in the sixteenth and
eighteenth centuries, conventionally associated with "enclosure" (about which more in a moment), in contrast,
for example, to France, where a larger proportion of land remained, and long continued to remain, in the hands
of peasants.
On the other hand, the relatively weak "extra-economic" powers of landlords meant that they depended less on
their ability to squeeze more rents out of their tenants by direct, coercive means than on their tenants'
productivity. Landlords had a strong incentive, then, to encourageand, wherever possible, to compeltheir
tenants to find ways of increasing their output. In this respect, they were fundamentally different from rentier
aristocrats who throughout history have depended for their wealth on squeezing surpluses out of peasants by
means of simple coercion, enhancing their powers of surplus extraction not by increasing the productivity of the
direct producers but rather by improving their own coercive powersmilitary, judicial, and political.
As for the tenants themselves, they were increasingly subject not only to direct pressures from landlords but to
market imperatives which compelled them to enhance their productivity. English tenancies took various forms,
and there were many regional variations, but a growing number were subject to economic rents, that is, rents not
fixed by some legal or customary standard but responsive to market conditions. By the early modern period,
even many customary leases had effectively become economic leases of this kind.
The effect of the system of property relations was that many agricultural producers (including prosperous
"yeomen") were market-dependent, not just in the sense that they were obliged to sell produce on the market but
in the more fundamental sense that their access to land itself, to the means of production, was mediated by the
market. There was, in effect, a market in leases, in which prospective tenants had to compete. Where security of
tenure depended on the ability to pay the going rent, uncompetitive production could mean outright loss of land.
To meet economic rents in a situation where other potential tenants were competing for the same leases, tenants
were compelled to produce cost-effectively, on penalty of dispossession.
But even those tenants who enjoyed some kind of customary tenure which gave them more security, but who
might still be obliged to sell their produce in the same markets, could go under in conditions where competitive
standards of productivity were being set by farmers responding more directly and urgently to the pressures of the
market. The same would increasingly be true even of landowners working their own land. In this competitive
environment, productive farmers prospered and their holdings were likely to grow, while less competitive
producers went to the wall and joined the propertyless classes.
In all cases, the effect of market imperatives was to intensify exploitation in order to increase productivity
whether exploitation of the labor of others or self-exploitation by the farmer and his family. This pattern would
be reproduced in the colonies, and indeed in post-Independence America, where the independent small farmers
who were supposed to be the backbone of a free republic faced, from the beginning, the stark choice of agrarian
capitalism: at best, intense self-exploitation, and at worst, dispossession and displacement by larger, more
productive enterprises.
So by the sixteenth century English agriculture was marked by a unique combination of conditions, at least in
certain regions, which would gradually set the economic direction of the whole economy. The result was an
agrarian sector more productive than any other in history. Landlords and tenants alike became preoccupied with
what they called "improvement," the enhancement of the land's productivity for profit.
It is worth dwelling for a moment on this concept of "improvement," because it tells us a great deal about
English agriculture and the development of capitalism. The word "improve" itself, in its original meaning, did
not mean just "making better" in a general sense but literally (based on the old French for "into," en, and "profit,"
pros, or its oblique case, preu) doing something for monetary profit, and especially cultivating land for profit. By
the seventeenth century, the word "improver" was firmly fixed in the language to refer to someone who rendered
land productive and profitable, especially by enclosing or reclaiming waste. Agricultural "improvement" was by
then a well established practice, and in the eighteenth century, in the golden age of agrarian capitalism,
"improvement," in word and deed, came truly into its own.
The word was, at the same time, gradually acquiring a more general meaning, in the sense that we know it today
(we might like to think about the implications of a culture in which the word for "making better" is rooted in the
word for monetary profit); and even in its association with agriculture, it eventually lost some of its old
specificityso that, for example, some radical thinkers in the nineteenth century might embrace "improvement"
in the sense of scientific farming, without its connotation of commercial profit. But in the early modern period,
productivity and profit were inextricably connected in the concept of "improvement," and it nicely sums up the
ideology of a rising agrarian capitalism.
In the seventeenth century, then, a whole new body of literature emerged, a literature spelling out in
unprecedented detail the techniques and benefits of improvement. Improvement was also a major preoccupation
of the Royal Society, which brought together some of England's most prominent scientists (Isaac Newton and
Robert Boyle were both members of the Society) with some of the more forward-looking members of England's
ruling classeslike the philosopher John Locke and his mentor, the first Earl of Shaftesbury, both of whom were
keenly interested in agricultural improvement.
Improvement did not, in the first instance, depend on significant technological innovationsalthough new
equipment was used, like the wheel-plow. In general, it was more a matter of developments in farming
techniques: for example, "convertible" or "up and down" husbandryalternating cultivation with fallow periods,
crop rotation, drainage of marsh and plowlands, and so on.
But improvement meant something more than new methods and techniques of farming. It meant, even more
fundamentally, new forms and conceptions of property. "Improved" farming, for the enterprising landlord and
his prosperous capitalist tenant, ideally required enlarged and concentrated landholdings. It alsoand perhaps
even moredemanded the elimination of old customs and practices that interfered with the most productive use
of land.
Peasant communities have, since time immemorial, employed various means of regulating land use in the
interests of the village community. They have restricted certain practices and granted certain rights, not in order
to enhance the wealth of landlords or states but to preserve the peasant community itself, perhaps to conserve the
land or to distribute its fruits more equitably, and often to provide for the community's less fortunate members.
Even "private" ownership of property has typically been conditioned by such customary practices, giving nonowners certain use-rights to property "owned" by someone else. In England, there were many such practices and
customs. There existed common lands, on which members of the community might have grazing rights or the
right to collect firewood, and there were also various kinds of use-rights on private landsuch as the right to
collect the leavings of the harvest during specified periods of the year.
From the standpoint of improving landlords and capitalist farmers, land had to be liberated from any such
obstruction to their productive and profitable use of property. Between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries,
there was growing pressure to extinguish customary rights that interfered with capitalist accumulation. This
could mean various things: it might mean disputing the communal ownership of common lands and claiming
private ownership; it might mean eliminating various use-rights on private land; or it might mean challenging the
customary tenures which gave many smallholders rights of possession without unambiguous legal title. In all
these cases, traditional conceptions of property had to be replaced by new, capitalist conceptions of property
property as not only "private" but also exclusive, literally excluding other individuals and the community, by
eliminating village regulation and restrictions on land use, by extinguishing customary use-rights, and so on.
These pressures to transform the nature of property manifested themselves in various ways, in theory and in
practice. They surfaced in court cases, in conflicts over specific property rights, over some piece of common
land or some private land to which different people had overlapping use-rights. In such cases, customary
practices and claims often directly confronted the principles of "improvement"and judges often recognized
reasons of improvement as legitimate claims against customary rights that had been in place as long as anyone
could remember.
New conceptions of property were also being theorized more systematically, most famously in John Locke's
Second Treatise of Government. Chapter 5 of that work is the classic statement of a theory of property based on
the principles of improvement. Here, property as a "natural" right is based on what Locke regards as the divine
injunction to make the earth productive and profitable, to improve it. The conventional interpretation of Locke's
theory of property suggests that labor establishes the right to property, but a careful reading of Locke's chapter
on property makes it clear that what really is at issue is not labor as such but the productive and profitable
utilization of property, its improvement. An enterprising, improving landlord establishes his right to property not
by his own direct labor but by the productive exploitation of his land and other people's labor on it. Unimproved
land, land not rendered productive and profitable (such as the lands of indigenous peoples in the Americas), is
"waste," and it is the right, even the duty, of improvers to appropriate it.
The same ethic of improvement could be used to justify certain kinds of dispossession not only in the colonies
but at home in England. This brings us to the most famous redefinition of property rights: enclosure. Enclosure is
often thought of as simply the privatization and fencing in of formerly common land, or of the "open fields" that
characterized certain parts of the English countryside. But enclosure meant, more particularly, the extinction
(with or without a physical fencing of land) of common and customary use-rights on which many people
depended for their livelihood.
The first major wave of enclosure occurred in the sixteenth century, when larger landowners sought to drive
commoners off lands that could be profitably put to use as pasture for increasingly lucrative sheep farming.
Contemporary commentators held enclosure, more than any other single factor, responsible for the growing
plague of vagabonds, those dispossessed "masterless men" who wandered the countryside and threatened social
order. The most famous of these commentators, Thomas More, though himself an encloser, described the
practice as "sheep devouring men." These social critics, like many historians after them, may have overestimated
the effects of enclosure alone, at the expense of other factors leading to the transformation of English property
relations. But it remains the most vivid expression of the relentless process that was changing not only the
English countryside but the world: the birth of capitalism.
Enclosure continued to be a major source of conflict in early modern England, whether for sheep or increasingly
profitable arable farming. Enclosure riots punctuated the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and enclosure
surfaced as a major grievance in the English Civil War. In its earlier phases, the practice was to some degree
resisted by the monarchical state, if only because of the threat to public order. But once the landed classes had
succeeded in shaping the state to their own changing requirementsa success more or less finally consolidated
in 1688, in the so-called "Glorious Revolution"there was no further state interference, and a new kind of
enclosure movement emerged in the eighteenth century, the so-called Parliamentary enclosures. In this kind of
enclosure, the extinction of troublesome property rights that interfered with some landlord's powers of
accumulation took place by acts of Parliament. Nothing more neatly testifies to the triumph of agrarian
So in England, a society in which wealth still derived predominantly from agricultural production, the selfreproduction of both major economic actors in the agrarian sectordirect producers and the appropriators of
their surpluseswere, at least from the sixteenth century, increasingly dependent on what amounted to capitalist
practices: the maximization of exchange value by means of cost-cutting and improving productivity, by
specialization, accumulation, and innovation.
This mode of providing for the basic material needs of English society brought with it a whole new dynamic of
self-sustaining growth, a process of accumulation and expansion very different from the age-old cyclical patterns
that dominated material life in other societies. It was also accompanied by the typical capitalist processes of
expropriation and the creation of a propertyless mass. It is in this sense that we can speak of "agrarian
capitalism" in early modern England.
We should pause here to emphasize two major points. First, it was not merchants or manufacturers who were
driving this process. The transformation of social property relations was firmly rooted in the countryside, and the
transformation of English trade and industry was result more than cause of England's transition to capitalism.
Merchants could function perfectly well within noncapitalist systems. They prospered, for example, in the
context of European feudalism, where they profited not only from the autonomy of cities but also from the
fragmentation of markets and the opportunity to conduct transactions between one market and another.
Secondly, and even more fundamentally, readers will have noticed that the term "agrarian capitalism" has so far
been used without reference to wage-labor, which we have all learned to think of as the essence of capitalism.
This requires some explanation.
It should be said, first, that many tenants did employ wage labor, so much so that the "triad" identified by Marx
and othersthe triad of landlords living on capitalist ground rent, capitalist tenants living on profit, and laborers
living on wageshas been regarded by many as the defining characteristic of agrarian relations in England. And
so it wasat least in those parts of the country, particularly the east and southeast, most noted for their
agricultural productivity. In fact, the new economic pressures, the competitive pressures that drove out
unproductive farmers, were a major factor in polarizing the agrarian population into larger landholders and
propertyless wage laborers, and in promoting the agrarian triad. And, of course, the pressures to increase
productivity made themselves felt in the intensified exploitation of wage labor.
It would not, then, be unreasonable to define English agrarian capitalism in terms of the triad. But it is important
to keep in mind that competitive pressures, and the new "laws of motion" that went with them, depended in the
first instance not on the existence of a mass proletariat but on the existence of market-dependent tenantproducers. Wage laborers, and especially those who lived entirely on wage labor, depending on it for their
livelihood and not just for seasonal supplements (the kind of seasonal and supplementary wage labor that has
existed since ancient times in peasant societies) remained very much a minority in seventeenth century England.
Besides, these competitive pressures operated not just on tenants who did employ wage laborers but also on
farmers whotypically with their familieswere themselves direct producers working without hired labor.
People could be market dependentdependent on the market for the basic conditions of their self-reproduction
without being completely dispossessed. To be market dependent required only the loss of direct non-market
access to the means of production. In fact, once market imperatives were well established, even outright
ownership was no protection against them. And market dependence was a cause, not a result, of mass
This is important for various reasonsand I'll have more to say later about its broader implications. For the
moment, the important point is that the specific dynamics of capitalism were already in place, in English
agriculture, before the proletarianization of the work force. In fact, those dynamics were a major factor in
bringing about the proletarianization of labor in England. The critical factor was the market dependence of
producers, as well as appropriators, and the new social imperatives created by that market dependence.
Some people may be reluctant to describe this social formation as "capitalist," precisely on the grounds that
capitalism is, by definition, based on the exploitation of wage labor. That reluctance is fair enoughas long as
we recognize that, whatever we call it, the English economy in the early modern period, driven by the logic of its
basic productive sector, agriculture, was already operating according to principles and "laws of motion" different
from those prevailing in any other society since the dawn of history. Those laws of motion were the
preconditionswhich existed nowhere elsefor the development of a mature capitalism that would indeed be
based on the mass exploitation of wage labor.
What, then, was the outcome of all this? First, English agriculture was uniquely productive. By the end of the
seventeenth century, for instance, grain and cereal production had risen so dramatically that England became a
leading exporter of those commodities. These advances in production were achieved with a relatively small
agricultural labor force. This is what it means to speak of the unique productivity of English agriculture.
Some historians have tried to challenge the very idea of agrarian capitalism by suggesting that the "productivity"
of French agriculture in the eighteenth century was more or less equal to that of England. But what they really
mean is that total agricultural production in the two countries was more or less equal. What they fail to point out
is that in one country, that level of production was achieved by a population the vast majority of which still
consisted of peasant producers, while in the other country, the same total production was achieved by a much
smaller work force, in a declining rural population. In other words, the issue here is not total output but
productivity in the sense of output per unit of work.
The demographic facts alone speak volumes. Between 1500 and 1700, England experienced a substantial growth
in populationas did other European countries. But English population growth was distinctive in one major
respect: the percentage of the urban population more than doubled in that period (some historians put the figure
at just under a quarter of the population already by the late 17th century). The contrast with France is telling:
here, the rural population remained fairly stable, still about 85 to 90 percent at the time of the French Revolution
in 1789 and beyond. By 1850, when the urban population of England and Wales was about 40.8 percent,
France's was still only 14.4 percent (and Germany's 10.8).
Agriculture in England, already in the early modern period, was productive enough to sustain an unusually large
number of people no longer engaged in agricultural production. This fact, of course, testifies to more than just
particularly efficient farming techniques. It also bespeaks a revolution in social property relations. While France
remained a country of peasant proprietors, land in England was concentrated in far fewer hands, and the
propertyless mass was growing rapidly. While agricultural production in France still followed traditional peasant
practices (nothing like the English body of improvement literature existed in France, and the village community
still imposed its regulations and restrictions on production, affecting even larger landholders), English farming
was responding to the imperatives of competition and improvement.
It is worth adding one other point about England's distinctive demographic pattern. The unusual growth of the
urban population was not evenly distributed among English towns. Elsewhere in Europe, the typical pattern was
an urban population scattered among several important townsso that, for example, Lyons was not dwarfed by
Paris. In England, London became disproportionately huge, growing from about 60,000 inhabitants in the 1520s
to 575,000 in 1700 and becoming the largest city in Europe, while other English towns were much smaller.
This pattern signifies more than is apparent at first glance. It testifies, among other things, to the transformation
of social property relations in the heartland of agrarian capitalism, the south and southeast, and the dispossession
of small producers, a displaced and migrant population whose destination would typically be London. The
growth of London also represents the growing unification not only of the English state but of a national market.
That huge city was the hub of English commercenot only as a major transit point for national and international
trade but as a huge consumer of English products, not least its agricultural produce. The growth of London, in
other words, in all kinds of ways stands for England's emerging capitalism, its integrated marketincreasingly, a
single, unified, and competitive market; its productive agriculture; and its dispossessed population.
The long-term consequences of these distinctive patterns should be fairly obvious. Although this is not the place
to explore the connections between agrarian capitalism and England's subsequent development into the first
"industrialized" economy, some points are self-evident. Without a productive agricultural sector which could
sustain a large non-agricultural workforce, the world's first industrial capitalism would have been unlikely to
emerge. Without England's agarian capitalism, there would have been no dispossessed mass obliged to sell its
labor-power for a wage. Without that dispossessed non-agrarian work force, there would have been no mass
consumer market for the cheap everyday goodssuch as food and textilesthat drove the process of
industrialization in England. And without its growing wealth, together with wholly new motivations for colonial
expansionmotivations different from the old forms of territorial acquisitionBritish imperialism would have
been a very different thing than the engine of industrial capitalism it was to become. And (this is no doubt a
more contentious point) without English capitalism there would probably have been no capitalist system of any
kind: it was competitive pressures emanating from England, especially an industrialized England, that compelled
other countries to promote their own economic development in capitalist directions.
What, then, does all this tell us about the nature of capitalism? First, it reminds us that capitalism is not a
"natural" and inevitable consequence of human nature, or even of age-old social practices like "truck, barter, and
exchange." It is a late and localized product of very specific historical conditions. The expansionary drive of
capitalism, to the point of virtual universality today, is not the consequence of its conformity to human nature or
to some transhistorical natural laws but the product of its own historically specific internal laws of motion. And
those laws of motion required vast social transformations and upheavals to set them in train. It required a
transformation in the human metabolism with nature, in the provision of life's basic necessities.
The second point is that capitalism has from the beginning been a deeply contradictory force. We need only
consider the most obvious effects of English agrarian capitalism: on the one hand, the conditions for material
prosperity existed in early modern England as nowhere else; yet on the other hand, those conditions were
achieved at the cost of widespread dispossession and intense exploitation. It hardly needs to be added that these
new conditions also established the foundation for new and more effective forms of colonial expansion and
imperialism, as well as new needs for such expansion, in search of new markets and resources.
And then there are the corollaries of "improvement": on the one hand, productivity and the ability to feed a vast
population; on the other hand, the subordination of all other considerations to the imperatives of profit. This
means, among other things, that people who could be fed are often left to starve. In fact, it means that there is in
general a great disparity between the productive capacities of capitalism and the quality of life it delivers. The
ethic of "improvement" in its original sense, in which production is inseparable from profit, is also the ethic of
exploitation, poverty, and homelessness.
The ethic of "improvement," of productivity for profit, is also, of course, the ethic of irresponsible land use, mad
cow disease, and environmental destruction. Capitalism was born at the very core of human life, in the
interaction with nature on which life itself depends. The transformation of that interaction by agrarian capitalism
revealed the inherently destructive impulses of a system in which the very fundamentals of existence are
subjected to the requirements of profit. In other words, it revealed the essential secret of capitalism.
The expansion of capitalist imperatives throughout the world has constantly reproduced some of the effects that
it had at the beginning within its country of origin. The process of dispossession, extinction of customary
property rights, the imposition of market imperatives, and environmental destruction has continued. That process
has extended its reach from the relations between exploiting and exploited classes to the relations between
imperialist and subordinate countries. More recently, the spread of market imperatives has taken the form, for
example, of compelling (with the help of international capitalist agencies like the World Bank and the
International Monetary Fund) farmers in the third world to replace strategies of agricultural self-sufficiency with
specialization in cash crops for the global market. The dire effects of these changes will be explored elsewhere in
this issue.
But if the destructive effects of capitalism have constantly reproduced themselves, its positive effects have not
been nearly as consistent. Once capitalism was established in one country and once it began to impose its
imperatives on the rest of Europe and ultimately the whole world, its development in other places could never
follow the same course it had in its place of origin. The existence of one capitalist society thereafter transformed
all others, and the subsequent expansion of capitalist imperatives constantly changed the conditions of economic
We have now reached the point where the destructive effects of capitalism are outstripping its material gains. No
third world country today, for example, can hope to achieve even the contradictory development that England
underwent. With the pressures of competition, accumulation, and exploitation imposed by other more developed
capitalist systems, the attempt to achieve material prosperity according to capitalist principles is increasingly
likely to bring with it only the negative side of the capitalist contradiction, its dispossession and destruction
without its material benefits, at least for the vast majority.
There is also a more general lesson to be drawn from the experience of English agrarian capitalism. Once market
imperatives set the terms of social reproduction, all economic actorsboth appropriators and producers, even if
they retain possession, or indeed outright ownership, of the means of productionare subject to the demands of
competition, increasing productivity, capital accumulation, and the intense exploitation of labor.
For that matter, even the absence of a division between appropriators and producers is no guarantee of immunity
(and this, by the way, is why "market socialism" is a contradiction in terms): once the market is established as an
economic "discipline" or "regulator," once economic actors become market dependent for the conditions of their
own reproduction, even workers who own the means of production, individually or collectively, will be obliged
to respond to the market's imperativesto compete and accumulate, to let "uncompetitive" enterprises and their
workers go to the wall, and to exploit themselves.
The history of agrarian capitalism, and everything that followed from it, should make it clear that wherever
market imperatives regulate the economy and govern social reproduction there will be no escape from
Chapter Two
During the period 1830-1870 the depletion of the natural fertility of the soil through the loss of soil nutrients was
the central ecological concern of capitalist society in both Europe and North America (only comparable to
concerns over the loss of forests, the growing pollution of the cities. and the Malthusian specter of
overpopulation). This period saw the growth of "guano imperialism" as nations scoured the globe for natural
fertilizers; the emergence of modern soil science; the gradual introduction of synthetic fertilizers; and the
formation of radical proposals for the development of a sustainable agriculture, aimed ultimately at the
elimination of the antagonism between town and country.
The central figure in this crisis of soil fertility was the German chemist Justus von Liebig. But the wider social
implications were most penetratingly examined by Karl Marx. The views of Liebig and Marx on soil fertility
were to be taken up by later thinkers, including Karl Kautsky and V.I. Lenin within the Marxist tradition. Still,
by the mid-twentieth century the problem seemed to have abated due to the development of a massive fertilizer
industry and the intensive application of synthetic fertilizers.
Today, a growing understanding of the ecological damage inflicted by the reliance on synthetic chemical inputs,
the scale of which vastly increased following the Second World War, has generated new interest in a sustainable
agriculture in which soil nutrient cycling plays a central role. The need to devise an ecologically sound
relationship of people to the soil is being rediscovered. What follows is a brief outline of the evolution of this
issue over the last hundred and fifty years.
In the 1820s and 1830s in Britain, and shortly afterwards in the other developing capitalist economies of Europe
and North America, concern over the "worn-out soil" led to a phenomenal increase in the demand for fertilizer.
The value of bone imports to Britain increased from 14,400 in 1823 to 254,600 in 1837. The first boat
carrying Peruvian guano (the accumulated dung of sea birds) arrived in Liverpool in 1835; by 1841 1,700 tons
were imported, and by 1847 some 220,000 tons arrived. So desperate were European farmers in this period that
they raided the Napoleonic battlefields (Waterloo, Austerlitz) for bones to spread over their fields.
The rise of modern soil science was closely correlated with this demand for increased soil fertility to support
capitalist agriculture. In 1837 the British Association for the Advancement of Science solicited a work on the
relationship between agriculture and chemistry from Liebig. The result was his Organic Chemistry in its
Applications to Agriculture and Physiology (1840), which provided the first convincing explanation of the role
of soil nutrients, such as nitrogen, phosphorous, and potassium, in the growth of plants. In England Liebig's ideas
influenced the wealthy landowner and agronomist J. B. Lawes, who had begun experiments on fertilizers on his
property in Rothamsted, outside London in 1837. In 1842 Lawes introduced the first artificial fertilizer, after
inventing a means of making phosphate soluble, and in 1843 he built a factory for the production of his new
Nevertheless, this technology was slow to diffuse outside of Britain. The first factories for the production of
superphosphates were introduced in Germany only in 1855; in the United States only after the Civil War; and in
France only after the Franco-Prussian War. Moreover, the results obtained from the application of a single
nutrient (such as phosphate) to the soft, although initially producing dramatic results, tended to diminish rapidly
after that, since overall soil fertility is always limited by the nutrient in least abundance (Liebig's Law of the
Hence, Liebig's discoveries at first only intensified the sense of crisis within capitalist agriculture, making
farmers more aware of the depletion of soil minerals and the paucity of fertilizers. This contradiction was
experienced with particular acuity in the United States - especially among farmers in upstate New York and in
the Southeastern plantation economy. Blocked from easy, economical access to guano (which was high in both
nitrogen and phosphates) by the British monopoly on Peruvian guano supplies, the United States undertook first unofficially and then as part of a deliberate state policy - the imperial annexation of any islands thought to
be rich in this natural fertilizer. Under the authority of what became the Guano Island Act, passed by Congress in
1856, U.S. capitalists seized ninety-four islands, rocks, and keys around the globe between 1856 and 1903, sixtysix of which were officially recognized by the Department of State as U.S. appurtenances. Nine of these guano
islands remain U.S. possessions today. Yet guano imperialism was unsuccessful in providing the United States
with the quantity and quality of natural fertilizer it needed.
Meanwhile, Peruvian guano supplies had begun to run out in the 1860s and had to be replaced by Chilean
nitrates. Although the potassium salts discovered in Europe gave ready access to that mineral, and both natural
and artificial supplies of phosphates made that nutrient more available, the limiting factor continued to be
fertilizer nitrogen (a synthetic nitrogen fertilizer was not developed until 1913).
The decline in natural soil fertility due to the disruption of the soil nutrient cycle accompanying capitalist
agriculture, the growing knowledge of the need for specific soil nutrients, and limitations in the supply of both
natural and synthetic fertilizers that would compensate for the loss of natural fertility, all contributed, therefore,
to a widespread sense of a crisis in soil fertility.
In the United States this was further complicated by geographical factors. In upstate New York, which by 1800
had displaced New England as a center for wheat cultivation, the relative exhaustion of the soil was brought into
sharp relief by steadily increasing competition from new farmlands to the West in the decades following the
opening of the Erie Canal in 1825. Meanwhile the slave plantations of the Southeast experienced dramatic
declines in fertility, particularly on lands devoted to the production of tobacco.
In New York farmers responded to the crisis by promoting a more rational agriculture through the creation of
agricultural societies. In 1832 the New York Agricultural Society was formed. Two years later Jesse Buel, an
Albany newspaper editor, started the Cultivator, which sought to promote the kind of improved farming already
being introduced in Britain, concentrating on issues such as manures, draining wet soils, and crop rotation. With
the publication of Liebig's Organic Chemistry in English in 1841, New York agriculturists turned to the new soil
science as a savior. In 1850 the Scottish agricultural chemist, Professor James EW. Johnston, whom Marx was to
call "the English Liebig," traveled to North America, and in his influential work Notes on North America
documented the loss of natural soil fertility, demonstrating in particular the depleted condition of the soil in New
York as compared to the more fertile farmlands to the West.
Many of these issues were reflected in the work of U.S. economist Henry Carey, who throughout the 1850s laid
stress on the fact that long distance trade arising from the separation of town and country was a major factor in
the net loss of soil nutrients and the growing crisis in agriculture - a point later developed further by Liebig and
Marx." [A] s the whole energies of the country," Carey wrote of the United States in his Principles of Social
Science (1858), "are given to the enlargement of the trader's power, it is no matter of surprise that its people are
everywhere seen employed in 'robbing the earth of its capital stock.'"
These concerns of North American agriculturists were transmitted in turn to Liebig, mainly through the work of
Carey. In his Letters on Modern Agriculture (1859), Liebig argued that the "empirical agriculture" of the trader
gave rise to a "spoliation system" in which the "conditions of the reproduction" of the soil were violated. Soil
nutrients were "carried away in produce year after year, rotation after rotation." Both the open system of
exploitation of American farming and the so-called "high farming" of European agriculture were thus forms of
"robbery." "Rational agriculture," in contrast, would give "back to the fields the conditions of their fertility."
Liebig looked forward to an eventual increase in the availability of fertilizers, both through discoveries of natural
sources and the production of synthetic fertilizers. Yet he nonetheless generated what soil science historian Jean
Boulaine has called a "great campaign to economize fertilizer use and to recycle nutritive elements on European
farms." In this sense he was a "precursor of today's ecologists." In his Letters on the Subject of the Utilization of
the Municipal Sewage Addressed to the Lord Mayor of London (1865) Liebig argued - based on the condition of
the Thames - that the two problems of the pollution of the cities with human and animal excrement and the
depletion of the natural fertility of the soil were connected, and that organic recycling that would return nutrients
to the soil was an indispensable part of a rational urban-agricultural system.
But by the 1860s, based on his reading of such thinkers as Liebig, Johnston, and Carey, and in response to the
soil fertility crisis, Marx began to focus directly on the soil nutrient cycle and its relation to the exploitative
character of capitalist agriculture. Thus, in the first volume of Capital he wrote:
Capitalist production ... disturbs the metabolic interaction between man and the earth, i.e. it prevents the return to the soil of
its constituent elements consumed by man in the form of food and clothing; hence it hinders the operation of the eternal
natural condition for the fertility of the soil.... All progress in capitalist agriculture is a progress in the art, not only of robbing
the worker, but of robbing the soil; all progress in increasing the fertility of the soil for a given time is a progress towards
ruining the more long-lasting sources of that fertility.... Capitalist production, therefore, only develops the techniques and
degree of combination of the social process of production by simultaneously undermining the original sources of all wealth the soil and the worker.
This argument was developed systematically in Marx's analysis of capitalist ground rent in the third volume of
Capital, where Marx also observed that, "In London ... they can do nothing better with the excrement produced
by 4.5 million people than pollute the Thames with it, at monstrous expense." Such considerations on capitalist
agriculture and the recycling of organic wastes led Marx to a concept of ecological sustainability - a notion that
he thought of very limited practical relevance to capitalist society, but vital for a society of associated producers.
The "conscious and rational treatment of the land as permanent communal property," he wrote, is "the
inalienable condition for the existence and reproduction of the chain of human generations." Further:
From the standpoint of a higher socioeconomic formation, the private property of particular individuals in the earth will
appear just as absurd as the private property of one man in other men. Even an entire society, a nation, or all simultaneously
existing societies taken together, are not owners of the earth, they are simply its possessors, its beneficiaries, and have to
bequeath it in an improved state to succeeding generations, as boni patres familias [good heads of the household].
Subsequent thinkers in the Marxist tradition, such as Kautsky and Lenin, were to be deeply affected by the
arguments of Liebig and Marx on agricultural sustainability and the necessity of recycling organic wastes, and
argued for the return of nutrients to the soil as a necessary part of a revolutionary transformation of society despite the increased availability of fertilizers in their time. In The Agrarian Question (1899), Kautsky insisted
Supplementary fertilisers ... allow the reduction in soil fertility to be avoided, but the necessity of using them in larger and
larger amounts simply adds a further burden to agriculture - not one unavoidably imposed on nature, but a direct result of
current social organization. By overcoming the antithesis between town and country, or at least between the densely
populated cities and the desolated open country, the materials removed from the soil would be able to flow back in full.
Supplemental fertilisers would then, at most, have the task of enriching the soil, not staving off its impoverishment. Advances
in cultivation would signify an increase in the amount of soluble nutrients in the soil without the need to add artificial
Similarly, Lenin observed in The Agrarian Question and the "Critics of Marx" (1901) that,
The possibility of substituting artificial for natural manures and the fact that this is already being done (partly) do not in the
least refute the irrationality of wasting natural fertilisers and thereby polluting the rivers and the air in suburban and factory
districts. Even at the present time there are sewage farms in the vicinity of large cities which utilise city refuse with enormous
benefit to agriculture; but by this system only an infinitesimal part of the refuse is utilized.
the United States, a new problem was created - how to get rid of the sludge that is produced. Currently sewage
sludge is either buried in landfills, incinerated, or applied to farmland, each of which has significant
environmental consequences.
Two developments set the stage for a second break in the cycling of nutrients. First, the availability of
inexpensive nitrogen fertilizers following the Second World War helped put in motion a number of changes. The
production of nitrogen fertilizers uses the same process as the production of explosives, and the end of war
production freed up a large capacity to make nitrogen fertilizers. (It is also important to note a further
agrichemical connection to the military-industrial complex: many of pesticides used in agriculture were
originally developed for military purposes as defoliants and nerve agents.) With the widespread availability of
nitrogen fertilizers, there was no longer a need to rely on legume crops, which convert atmospheric nitrogen into
a form that plants can use, to supply non-legumes with sufficient fertility. The legume clover and alfalfa hay
crops had previously been fed to ruminant animals such as beef and dairy cows and sheep. Once there was no
need to grow those crops to supply nitrogen for non-legume crops (wheat, corn, barley, tomatoes), farms could
more easily specialize as either crop or livestock operations.
Second, as concentration accelerated in agricultural production, processing, and marketing, corporations began
to encourage production of animals near the few large processing facilities that they operated. They selected
locations that offered certain advantages such as lax environmental laws, negligible threat of union activity, and
low wages. The large processors were also increasingly marketing their products under brand names and, to have
a uniform and predictable product, needed to control as much of the entire process as possible - either by
producing the animals on their own corporate farms or under production contracts where the farmer might not
even own the animals and had to follow strict instructions from their corporate employer. Thus animal
production became concentrated in certain regions: beef feedlots in the southern Great Plains, poultry in
Arkansas and on the Delmarva Peninsula (composed of parts of Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia) and hog
production in certain parts of the Midwest and in North Carolina.
These two developments in the second half of the twentieth century have led to a new phenomenon that mirrors
the separation of people from the farmland which so concerned Marx and others - the separation of agricultural
animals from the cropland that produces their feeds [ILLUSTRATION FOR FIGURE 1C OMITTED]. The
large-scale U.S. poultry and hog megafarms (aptly called factory farms) are owned almost exclusively by
corporate integrators or by individual farmers under production contracts for corporations such as Tyson and
Perdue. And beef feedlots with tens of thousands of animals are not uncommon. More than a third of cattle
marketed in the United States come from just seventy feedlots, while 97 percent of U.S. poultry sales are
controlled by operations that generate in excess of 100,000 broilers per year. Even on dairy farms that produce a
lot of their own feed, it is common to import about half of the animals' needs. This breakdown of the physical
connection between the animals and the land producing their feeds has worsened the depletion of nutrients and
organic matter from soils producing crops. Crop farms must use large amounts of synthetic fertilizers to
compensate for the loss of vast quantifies of nutrients as their products are sold.
In addition, as pointed out by Anderson and Marx, those renting land to produce crops have no economic
incentive to make improvements for which they will not receive compensation during the life of the rental
agreement. Fully 48 percent of all U.S. agricultural land in 1994 was rented from others. In some sectors rental is
especially common, with 60 percent of the land devoted to cash grain and 75 percent of all cotton land rented.
Land rental is also more common on larger farms, with 58 percent of the land operated by farms with annual
gross receipts of $250,000 or more under rental agreements. The great extent of rented land is another factor that
increases the trend toward farm specialization and short-term approaches to maintaining soil fertility that rely on
synthetic fertilizers rather than environmentally sound, long-term soil and crop management strategies.
The lack of nutrient cycling resulting from the physical separation first of people and then of animals from
cropland created the need to use ever higher levels of synthetic nutrients. And while the crop farms have too few
nutrients, these very same nutrients accumulate in cities and on the large-scale animal factory farms. Because of
the long distances involved, these accumulated nutrients are not returned to the major crop growing areas
because the energy and financial costs are extremely high.
There are a number of severe environmental consequences of the developments described above:
(1) Large amounts of non-renewable energy sources are needed to produce, ship, and apply the fertilizers.
Production of nitrogen fertilizer is very energy intensive. Of all the energy used to produce an acre of corn in the
United States cornbelt - including fuel, wear and tear on machinery, seeds, and pesticides - nitrogen fertilizer
accounts for the largest amount (double the next largest category), approximately 40 percent.
(2) Another adverse consequence arises because the fertilizers used are soluble and are thus prone to cause
groundwater and surface water contamination. In addition, the high concentrations of livestock produce more
nutrients than the surrounding soils can safely absorb. A direct health hazard results as the groundwater many
use for drinking is contaminated with high levels of nitrates. Excess nutrients from agricultural production are
also implicated in the deterioration of estuaries such as the Chesapeake Bay, and marine environments such as
the Gulf of Mexico's dead zone to the west of the Mississippi River's mouth, as well as many fresh water lakes.
(3) Even when cities are located near farms, the industrial contaminants, as well as chemicals in many of the
products that people dispose around their homes, render most urban sewage sludges unsuitable for use on
farmland. Although the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency considers most sludges safe for use on farmland,
there are significant scientific concerns about the adequacy of these guidelines. U.S. standards are by far the
most lax of all advanced industrial countries, with permitted levels of heavy metal eight times that of Canada and
most European nations. And there are potential contaminants in manures too - for example, routine feeding of
copper to hogs raised in confinement to enhance their growth results in manures that have excessive copper
levels. Disposal of contaminated sludges and manures causes environmental problems that may affect the future
productivity of soils or the quality of air and water.
(4) The lack of good rotations on most crop farms, partially caused by the availability of inexpensive synthetic
fertilizers, has resulted in a loss of soil organic matter and a decrease in the diversity of organisms in the soil.
This degradation of soil quality allows the growth of large populations of disease organisms and plant parasites
that would have been held in check by a diverse community of competing organisms. Also, plants that are
unhealthy tend to attract more insect pests than healthier plants. The upshot of this is that greater amounts of
pesticides are used in an attempt to combat the increased pest pressures resulting from soil degradation. Thus
much of the pesticide poisoning of farmers and farmworkers as well as the contamination of many foods and
groundwater is a result of soil degradation.
(5) The cruel conditions under which animals are raised in large-scale production facilities create conditions in
which disease can easily spread, necessitating frequent use of antibiotics. In addition, the routine use of low
levels of antibiotics in feeds, which function somehow as a growth stimulant, accounts for most of the 40 percent
of total antibiotics that are used on animals. The constant use of medicines causes both antibiotic contamination
of food and the development of antibiotic-resistant strains of bacteria which can then become a human health
(6) Mining operations undertaken to supply nutrients have resulted in substantial environmental damage. The
fate of one of the victims of guano imperialism gives some indication of what can happen. The small South
Pacific island nation of Nauru was under German control from 1888 to the First World War, after which it was
under the control of Australia (except for Japanese occupation during the Second World War) until independence
was gained in 1968. Strip mining of the phosphate-rich deposits began around 1908 and the deposit is expected
to be exhausted by about 2000. According to a New York Times article "four-fifths of the island has been mined
out, leaving behind a pitted, ghostly moonscape.... The only habitable land is a narrow coastal fringe shaded by
coconut palms. Because of the mining, even the weather has deteriorated. The waves of heat that rise from the
mined-out plateau drive away rain clouds, leaving the sun-baked island plagued by constant drought."
The history of the noncapitalist world offers a few glimpses of other possibilities. The Soviet model, followed by
most other countries in Eastern Europe, offers no help on this issue because it closely copied many of the
methods used in the United States, lack of attention to cycling of nutrients and care of the soil was partially
offset by applications of fertilizers and pesticides. However, in China during Mao things were different. China
has an extremely low amount of arable land per capita, but has had a long tradition of carefully cycling nutrients
to maintain soil fertility (as noted by Liebig in the nineteenth century). Mao's emphasis on local food selfsufficiency in each region helped to reinforce these practices and, together with the encouragement of local
industry, slowed down urbanization at the same time as impressive advances were made in agricultural
production. But in the transition to capitalist relations that is now far advanced, nutrient cycling and careful soil
management has decreased substantially (see Bill Hinton's article, this issue for a discussion of the burning of
crop residues in China) and there is a new emphasis on building fertilizer factories to supply the nutrient needs of
agricultural production. In Cuba, the economic crisis of the Special Period has been caused by the cancellation of
favorable trade agreements with the collapse of the Soviet Union. Lack of funds to purchase fertilizers and
pesticides from abroad created an interest in reducing the use of such materials, and organic production
techniques have become a mainstay of Cuban agriculture with attention paid to nutrient cycling issues (see Peter
Rosset's article, this issue).
What can be done to remedy the break in the cycling of nutrients in the advanced capitalist countries and the
resulting environmental consequences? Without a major challenge to the structure of agriculture and corporate
decision making, a profound change in the nature and sizes of cities and the curbing of suburban development,
and a moratorium on the continued introduction of new synthetic chemical compounds until their environmental
safety is proven beyond a doubt (all unlikely in the near future), there remain few options. These include
encouraging the consumption of locally grown food and the recycling of clean food wastes from homes,
restaurants, and markets back onto farmland. And seeking out of farmers that follow environmentally and
socially sound practices at farmers markets and through the new Community Supported Agriculture farms
(CSAs, where individuals and families buy shares in the production of the farm before the season starts) can help
as well. A massive effort can also be undertaken to clean up sewage sludges by eliminating the contamination of
sewage with potentially toxic wastes from industries as well as individual homes. This will be resisted by
industry because of the large expenditures required for most to have zero discharge of toxic materials. Although
such activities will not solve the problems, they will make a difference. And during the struggles, the mutual
education of those interested in broader societal issues, on the one hand, and those concerned with sustainable
agriculture and environmental issues, on the other, could lead to more permanent future alliances.
From a longer-term perspective, it is important to understand that neither a lack of technology nor a lack of
understanding of ecological processes are standing in the way of sustainable agricultural systems today.
Although there is plenty to find out, we already know how to design and implement agroecosystems that are
biologically sustainable, taking into account soil nutrient cycles and other factors. But the mass of farmers
cannot use this knowledge and survive under the current economic-social-political structure.
A humane and sustainable system, socialist and based on sound ecological principles, will concern itself with
sustaining the earth, as Marx wrote, "as the inalienable condition for the existence and reproduction of the chain
of human generations." To fail to take these more fundamental issues into account in our current struggles would
be to ensure our failure not only in the cause of social justice, but also in fulfilling our obligations to the earth -
understood as the ground we live on and the bio-geological processes that sustain us. One thing we can be
assured of: future generations will only look at us askance if we allow ourselves to give in at any point to a
system, such as the present one, run on the principle "Apres moi le deluge!"(1)
1. "Apres moi le deluge! is the watchword of every capitalist and of every capitalist nation. Capital therefore
takes no account of the health and length of life of the worker, unless society forces it to do so." Karl Marx,
Capital vol. 1 (New York: Vintage, 1976), p, 381.
Chapter Three
became commercial farmers and began to be dependent on a single transportation system to move their products
to the market.
Railroads in some parts of the country needed the business offarmers, but they had access to hundreds, if not
thousands, of farmers. They were not dependent on any single farmer. Their only concern was that farmers might
be successful in organizing a united stand against the railroads. Frank Norris' agrarian populist novel, The
Octopus: A History of California,1 was about a handful of farmers who attempted such a united stand, rising up
in direct rebellion, only to be dispatched by the railroads. The whole history of the farmers' movement is largdy
about the unequal power balance between farmers and the railroads, and, more generally, between the farmers
and all the "middlemen" they depended on for transportation, markets, and a host of inputs such as credit and
farm equipment.
In southwestern Minnesota, for example, the selling of water fowl to cities to the East and later the selling of
agriculture products, especially grain, all depended on the railroad for transporrotion. In the case of grain, the
farmers usually had access to only one grain handling firm to store and to transfer the grain from farmers'
wagons to the train.2 Many of the transnational corporations (TNCs) of today, like Cargill, exercised economic
power in many of the local markets in which they began operating. Most farmers' movements were not
successful in establishing alternative economic systems or firms which benefited the farmers, but with the help
of legislation to encourage farmer cooperatives, there were some successes. For example, Table 1, which lists the
four largest firms in each of several commodity processing sectors in the U.S., shows that two cooperativesFarmland Industries and Gold Kist-are major players in beef and broilers respectively. However, other
cooperatives, like GrowMark, have developed joint ventures and other formal relationships with corporations
like Archer Daniels Midland (ADM).
Most food firms scaned as relatively small, local firms, but as they became profitable they expanded their
operations into other geographic areas. The expansions occurred through building new facilicies, acquisitions,
and mergers. The expansion of a firm within the same stage of the food system as their original operation is
called horizontal integration. For example, the increase in size and decrease in the number of farms in the United
States during most of this century is an example of horizontal integration. Horizontal integration also occurs at
each of the other stages of distribution and processing. Although there are great variations among the different
commodity sectors regarding the ways concentration of ownership and control have occurred in processing and
distribution stages, the same general pattern of fewer and larger firms in each stage has been underway during
the last half of the twentieth century in the United States, and has become most obvious during the last decade at
the global level.
In some commodity sectors, one can point to significant concentration of the processing firms in even the first
half of the century. For example, pork and beef slaughtering and processing were dominated by Wilson, Armour,
and Swift as we entered the twentieth century. Opposition to their practices in the Chicago stockyards inspired
Upton Sinclair's The Jungle3 and led to the passage of the first Food and Drug Act that same year. And their
collusion to set monopoly prices was largely responsible for the creation of the Packers and Stockyards Agency
of the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) in 1921 to monitor predatory practices. The Swift and Armour
brand names exist today, but these firms were bought by ConAgra, which also bought Miller and Monfort. Some
would argue that the fact that these firms do not exist today suggests that even firms with significant economic
power can themselves be eliminated. But the important point is that they were absorbed within the larger
agglomeration of capital. Still it is true that with the continuing trend toward concentration and centralization of
capital no firm is safe from takeover or elimination in other ways. (This is often used as justification for why no
government action should be taken to interfere with the free market.) The extent of the concentration of the
processing stage of selected major meat and crop commodities is shown in Table I.
Table 1. THE FOUR LARGEST COMMODITY PROCESSING FIRMS AND PERCENT OF U. S. MARKET
Forty percent or more of the processing of all agricultural commodities in the Midwest are controlled by the four
largest firms. Although debate continues in the United Scates and in other countries on what constitutes an
oligopolistic or near oligopolistic market, much of the economic literature suggests that when four firms control
40 percent of the market, they are able to exert influence on the market unlike that in a competitive system. In
the meat sectors 87 percent (81 percent by the largest three) of the beef cattle are slaughtered by the four largest
firms, and 73 percent of the sheep are processed by the four largest firms. The control of hog slaughtering by the
four largest firms increased from 37 percent in 1987 to 60 percent today. Over one-half(55 percent) of the
broilers (chickens produced for meat) today are produced and processed by the four largest firms, with Tyson
now producing and processing almost one-third of the broilers in the United States. In the crop sectors, the four
largest firms process from 57 percent to 76 percent of the corn, wheat, and soybeans in the United States.
Like the narrow opening of an hourglass which controls the flow of sand from the top to the bottom, the
processing firms are positioned between the thousands of producers and millions of consumers in the United
States and the world. These firms have a disproportionate amount of influence on the quality, quantity, type,
location of production, and price of the product at the production stage and throughout the entire food system.
The only stage in which a set of firms begins to equal the economic power of the food processors is the retail
stage, which is also becoming more horizontally integrated. The interface between the processing and retail
stages is currently where the giants of the food system interact. Certainly, it is not an area characterized by easy
entry and exit. How many firms in the world have sufficient capital to face the economic power of these two sets
of firms?
In the food system, horizontal integration usually refers to expansion in the same stage of the same commodity
sector. However, if one considers the sector to be meat, then horizontal integration would include the total meat
sector. The data in Table 1 indicate that some firms are active in several different parts of this overall meat
sector. For example, ConAgra ranks in the top four firms in the processing of beef, pork, broilers, sheep, turkeys,
and seafood (which is not on the list). Spokespersons for the industry frequently highlight the competition for the
public's dollar between different meats, such as the competition between beef and poultry. They frequendy use
the competition between meats to argue that the producers must update their production practices. This
competition between commodities is also frequently used to justify the check-off system in which a per-animal
fee paid by farmers is used primarily to support product promotion and research. The cost of the check-off
system is borrne by the producers, but there is growing concern as to who is benefiting. Currently the Livestock
Marketing Association is leading a petition drive to force a beef producer recall referendum on the check-off
programs. Their argument is that "after $1 billion spent in promotion and research over the first ten years of the
program, beef demand is stiil declining.4 They suggest the check-off funds are being spent directly or indirectly
on projects that benefit processors and retailers rather than beef producers, and that the results are increased
concentration and integration of the industry. One can ask how much competition exists between the different
meat products when key decision-makers are involved in more than one part of the meat sector.
The movement of firms into the processing of several commodities may at one level be an extension of
horizontal integration, but it also represents a major qualitative change in the economic power relationships.
When a firm has a dominant position in several commodity systems, it can cross-subsidize. Firms operating in
more than one commodity system gain economic power because they can survive a major loss in one commodity
system over a long period of time if they are making significant profits in other systems. If a loss continues very
long in a single-product firm's only commodity, it faces serious financial difficulty.
Lane Poultry was the largest broiler producer and processor in the United States following its purchase of
Valmac Industries in 1980, but it was still a single-product producer. Lane lost Valmac Industries and then was
itself purchased by Tyson Foods because of its economic losses in nine of eleven consecutive quarters in the late
1970s and early 1980s. Being the largest firm in a commodity sector, but a single-product producer, does not
assure enough economic power to survive. Larger firms with profits in other sectors or systems have more
economic power and may overtake them. Information we obtained from executives of a couple TNCs involved
in broiler production at the time, indicated that the goal of their firms was to obtain a larger share of a growing
market by overproducing, reducing prices and lowering profit margins so that small firms would have trouble
surviving even during a market expansion. (This was a time when per capita consumption of poultry was
increasing rapidly while beef consumption was decreasing in The United States.)
Planned overproduction and selling below cost of production also occurred in the farm-raised catfish sector early
in the 1980s. Two major catfish cooperatives, Southern Pride and Delta Pride, experienced the problem of
competing against ConAgra, Cargill, and Chiquita, the parent company of Morrill (now owned by Smithfield).
The three TNCs were able to cross-subsidize. The cooperatives survived despite the fact that the annual report of
one of theTNCs showed a loss in the catfish division for two years because of "overproduction" in the sector.
Conversations with some of the TNC's personnel indicated the firm was prepared to extend this loss for another
year or two. We concluded that because the five firms absolutely dominated the production and processing of
farm-raised catfish at the time, the low prices were the result of overproduction and an effort on the part of the
TNCs to gain market share at the expense of the members of the cooperatives. 5 In fact, Cargill, which has now
exited the sector, entered the catfish sector during the time of negative profits with plans to increase catfish
production.6 Like the broiler and catfish sectors in the past, the hog sector is currently involved in a large
increase in production even when prices are low and are predicted to stay low. During the last half of 1998 and
the first half of l999, the market price for hogs was below the cost of production. At times, the sale price for hogs
was about one-fourth of the cost of production. However, many of the larger and diversified firms continue to
construct new facilities as smaller single-product producers were forced out of business. The driving force is
market share, not efficiency. Large firms that can crosssubsidize can operate in this arena, but smaller,
nondiversified firms cannot survive. Economic power, not efficiency, predicts survival in this system.
The second major strategy of large firms seeking to reduce competition is vertical integration. Vertical
integration occurs when a firm increases ownership and control of a number of stages in a commodity system.
Just like diversifying into different commodity sectors (horizontal integration), this structure gives the firm more
economic power. Data in Table 1 provide some indication of the extent of vertical integration when one notes
that feed grain is very important in livestock production. A firm like Cargill is one of the three major global
traders of grain (the major ingredient in animal feed), the second largest animal feed producer, and one of the
largest processors of hogs and beef. Many livestock producers purchase their feed from the same firms to which
they sell their animals.
Another example of the extent of vertical integration in the food system comes from ConAgra's annual report.
ConAgra indicates that it is one of the largest distributors of agricultural chemicals and fertilizer in North
America, and in 1990 it entered the seed business. Since then it has formed a joint venture with DuPont and
formal relationships with some of the seed companies involved in biotechnology. ConAgra owns 100 grainstorage elevators, 2,000 railroad cars, and 1,100 barges. ConAgra is the largest turkey producer and second
largest broiler producer. It produces its own poultry feed, as well as other livestock feed. It also owns and
operates hatcheries. ConAgra hires growers to raise its birds and then it processes the birds in its own facilities.
This broiler meat can dien be purchased as fryers under the name of Country Pride or in further processed foods
such as TV dinners and pot pies under the labels of Banquet and Beatrice Foods. From the basic raw materials
for agricultural production to the retail store, a significant proportion of the food system is owned and controlled
by ConAgra. ConAgra is the second largest food firm in the United States (behind Philip Morris) and the fourth
largest in the world, with operations in thirty-two countries.
In the subsistence food system, the family controlled its food from seed to plate. In the emerging vertically
integrated food system, a few food companies are gaining control of the country's food system by controlling it
from seed to shelf. This system is being extended around the world by many of the firms that are headquartered
in the United States.
Starting in the 1950s and 1960s, when feed companies and others started hatching their own baby chicks, hiring
growers to provide labor, buildings, and land, and constructing their own processing facilities for broilers, the
farm press and farm community began to focus on contract production.
Contract production is very different from forward contracting of a commodity product. Forward contracting is a
sales agreement between a farmer and a buyer that involves an agreed upon price and other terms of the sale to
be carried out at some future date. Contract production is an industrial model in which the integrating firm
outsources a needed ingredientthe agricultural raw product.
In contract production, the growers are required to provide the land and the buildings, -and equip the buildings to
the integrating firm's specifications while providing all of the labor for the production stage of the system. 7 The
growers are thus hired workers paid on a piece rate basis. They never own the birds or the feed, and have no
knowledge of the genetics or the feed ration. The integrating firms provides the birds, feed, and medication. All
of the major decisions are made by the integrating firm. The growers mortgage their land to raise the capital to
build the buildings, which cost over $100,000 each. Typically their repayment schedule extends over a ten- to
fifteen-year period, while the contract with the integrating firm goes from one batch of chickens to the nexta
period of about six weeks. By the time the buildings are almost paid off, the equipment needs to be replaced and
the buildings need to be modernized. As a consequence, few growers ever get out of debt. It is estimated that
although about one-half of the capital in the broiler sector comes from the growers, all of the major decisions are
made by the integrating firms. The growers are well aware that they can be cut off at any time.
In the early stages of vertical integration in the broiler industry, most growers had access to several integrating
firms, but over time the numbers were reduced. For example, in 1969 in Union Parish, Louisiana, there were four
integrating firms. Two were locally owned feed operations, and two were operations based out of state. By 1982,
the two local firms were no longer integrating firms; they were now growers. The two outside firms were owned
by ConAgra and Imperial Foods, one of the largest food companies of England. Within the following year,
ConAgra bought the Country Pride broiler facilities from Imperial Foods. The growers report that they have had
no price increase since 1982.
Two processes occur that alter the growers' opportunities. First, as the integrating firms in a given geographic
area become fewer, the power relationships between growers and the firms become more unequal. Because of
transportation and other costs, most integrating firms will send trucks out only about twenty-five to thirty miles
from the processing site to deliver feed and to pick up poultry for processing. Today there are about forty firms
producing about 97 percent of the broilers in this country. In total, they operate about two hundred and fifty
processing facilities. Thus, there are very few growers who live close enough to more than one processing
facility to even have an option to choose between integrating firms.
The second process that limits options for growers is that as the number of firms operating in the same
geographic area declines to two or three, an informal agreement evolves between integrating firms that they will
not raid their competitors' growers. If a grower gets cut off from one integrating firm, they cannot enter into a
contract with another. My thirty years of observing the poultry sector suggest that in early capitalism when the
growers have access to several integrating firms, the growers experience financial success, but when the system
moves to monopoly capital the growers find themselves in financial crisis. The courts have also found that the
growers are at the mercy of the integrating firms in other ways. Errors in the weighing of both feed and poultry
have become so well documented that legislation has recently been introduced to address this issue. The USDA
has also made a commitment to study this problem.
A third way TNCs can cross-subside and gain economic power is by operating in many different countries of the
world. A firm like Cargill, which has operations in seventy countries, can absorb a loss in one or two countries
over a few years as long they have good rates of return in other countries. It is easy to see how TNCs can gain
footholds in new countries. They begin by producing or processing a commodity and thus increase the supply of
the product which, assuming a given demand, drives the price down. In so doing, the price can drop below the
cost of production. A local firm, especially if it is a single product producer, cannot absorb such a loss for long,
but a TNC can absorb the loss for a relatively long time.
The food systems of the world are becoming so integrated by the TNCs that it makes little sense to speak of a
food system in a single country. For example, not only do IBP, Cargill, and ConAgra process 81 percent of the
beef in the United States, they also now have feedlots and slaughtering facilities in Canada and about the same
market dominance there. With the passage of the North American Free Trade Agreement, beef can now easily
travel back and forth across the border. It is possible for a 450-pound calf to be purchased by one of the three
firms on one side of the border and be sent across the border to be grown to 800-pounds in a contract
arrangement with a rancher. The firm may then decide to move the animal across the border again to be finished
in their feedlot. If the firm does not have sufficient capacity in their slaughtering facility in that country, it may
move the animal across the border again to be slaughtered. The meat may once again be moved across the border
to be consumed. The question then is, in what country was the animal produced?
These same firms have beef operations in many other countries, including Australia, Mexico, Brazil, and
Argentina. In such a system, the opportunity for governments to control their food systems is diminished and the
role of TNCs is increased. As global trade barriers are reduced, it becomes increasingly difficult for relatively
small local firms to compete with the economic power of the TNCs. Maple Leaf Foods, Canada's largest food
processor, is currently struggling to survive in the pork sector. In order to survive, Maple Leaf has lowered
wages, leading to labor strikes, in an effort to compete with the low wages paid by the U.S. slaughtering plants
that have been obtaining live hogs from Canada. Smithfield, the largest hog slaughterer in the United States, has
indicated an interest in buying the Maple Leaf facility in Ontario, one of the facilities with major labor discord.
Many TNCs involved in the global agriculture/food system are conglomerates. Cargill, which is such an
important player in meat and grain processing, also makes barges, operates barge and shipping lines, and
processes pig iron, scrap iron, and other metals and petroleum products. Philip Morris, which most people
associate with tobacco and cigarettes, is the largest food corporation in the United States and second largest in
the world. It sells Kraft General Foods products (including Kraft cheese), Maxwell House coffee, Miller Beer,
and Oscar Meyer meats. In 1996, Philip Morris had over $16 billion in revenues within the United States from its
North American Food Division. Many of the conglomerates regularly buy and sell various divisions. Purina
Mills, the largest animal feed firm in the United States (with 10 percent of the market), has changed hands
several times. Wishing to focus on its pet food segment, Ralston Purina (now the world's largest manufacturer of
dry dog and cat food, batteries and flashlights) sold its Purina Mills Division in 1986 to British Nutrition, the
largest livestock feed producer in Europe, which is owned by British Petroleum. In 1993, British Petroleum sold
Purina Mills to the Sterling Group of the United States. Then in early 1998, the Sterling Group sold Purina Mills
to Koch Agriculture Company, a subsidiary of Koch Industries. Koch Industries is a diversified energy and
industrial firm ranked the second largest privately held company in the United States. Vertical integration,
horizontal integration, integration among various segments of the food systems, conglomeration, and global
integration all lead to increased economic power for the TNCs.
Capital that comes from outside the local community has major economic consequences for the local
community. In small, locally owned businesses, such as family farms, family clothing stores, and family grocery
stores, the family subtracts its annual expenses from its income to determine profits that are then allocated
among labor, management, and capital. For the economic well being of the family and the rural community, it
makes little difference how the profits are allocated among the three costs of production, because the family
spends much of the profit in the local community. In the past, when family businesses were the predominant
economic systems in rural agriculture communities, researchers talked about "multiplier effects" of three and
four; money generated in the agricultural sector would circulate in the community, changing hands from one
entrepreneurial family to another three or four times before leaving the rural community. This greatly enhanced
the community's economic viability.
Giant corporations headquartered in distant places see labor as just another input cost to be purchased as cheaply
as possible. Their profits are usually immediately taken out of the local rural community. They go to the firms'
headquarters and on to stockholders or, if the corporation is a TNC, the profits are very likely invested in the
food system somewhere else in the world. Only the return to labor, which was bought as cheaply as possible,
remains in the rural community. Rural mining towns in Appalachia and the West show the adverse consequences
of absentee ownership under a regime of concentrated capital. Today, the economic impacts of agricultural
production on rural agricultural communities are perceived to be so small that few economic development
specialists see any hope in expanding the economic base of a rural community by focusing on the production
stage of the food sector. In some areas, attention is focused on the processing sector that is referred to as "value
These economic outcomes have major social consequences for communities, especially when combined with the
social consequences coming from changing the workers' relationship to their work setting. Fifty years ago,
Walter Goldschmidt's famous study in California showed a strong relationship between the structure of the food
system and the social condition of the community, revealing that the well-being of communities dominated by
large-scale, absentee-owned, corporate farms was greatly inferior to that of communities in which family farms
predominated. A host of studies building on Goldschmidt's work have confirmed these results when the focus
was on family farm structures verses corporate structures. 11 But the social costs, often referred to as
"externalities," are of no concern to TNCs, which see increasing the wealth of their stockholders as their major
Perhaps the ultimate political power these giant food firms have is that like some saving and loan associations,
banks, automobile and airplane manufacturersthey are perceived to be so vital to the country that their
bankruptcy would lead to major social disorganization. Given that food is a necessity, is there any doubt that the
federal government would provide the resources to keep these firms from collapsing?
Large corporations do not behave differently in the food system than in any other segment of the economy.
Agriculture is unique primarily because it took capital so long to dominate the sector. The fact that agriculture is
losing its uniqueness is perhaps best revealed by the fact that Mitsubishi, among the largest automakers and the
second largest bank in the world, is now one of the world's largest beef processors. The "mainstreaming" of the
food system into the larger capitalist system is also revealed by the fact that Pioneer Hi-Bred, DeKalb, Mycogen,
and other seed companies which own the property rights to the new varieties created through the use of
biotechnology have been merged with chemical firms (e.g., Novartis, Monsanto, DuPont, Dow) and with firms
which ultimately process the genetically modified new varieties (e.g., ConAgra, Cargill, ADM) through joint
ventures. One can predict that up against such power, the yeoman crop farmer will soon resemble the broiler
1. Frank Norris, The Octopus: A Story of California (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1956).
2. Andrew H. Raedeke, "Agriculture, Collective Environmental Action, and the Changing Landscape: A Case
Study of Heron Lake Watershed," (Ph.D. Diss,University of Missouri, 1997).
2. Upton Sinclair, The Jungle (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1906).
3. Feedstuff's (March 2, 1998), 5.
3. William D. Heffernan and Douglas Constance, "Concentration in the Food System: The Case of Catfish
Production," (Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Southern Rural Sociological Society. Forth Worth,
Texas, 1991).
4. Bob Odom, "Louisiana Agriculture ... Meeting the Challenges," The Louisiana Market Bulletin 74, No. 26
(December 1990), 1.
5. William Heffernan, "Constraints in the U.S. Poultry Industry," Research in Rural Sociology and
Development 1 (1984), 237-260.
4. Feedstuffs, (March 23, 1998).
5. Richmond Times-Dispatch, April 19, 1997.
10. Walter Goldschmidt, As You Sow: Three Studies in the Social Consequences of Agribusiness (Montclair,
NJ: Allanheld, Osmun, and Co., 1978).
11. William D. Heffernan, "Sociological Dimensions of Agricultural Structures in the United States," Sociologia
Ruralis 12 (1972), 481-99; Linda M. Lobao, Locality and Inequality: Farm and industry Structure and
Socioeconomic Conditions (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1990).
Chapter Four
Until about four decades ago, crop yields in agricultural systems depended mainly on internal resources,
recycling of organic matter, built-in biological control mechanisms, and natural rainfall patterns. Agricultural
yields were modest but stable. Production was safeguarded by growing more than one crop or variety in a field
as insurance against pest outbreaks or severe weather. Inputs of nitrogen were gained by rotating major field
crops with legumes. Growing many different types of crops over the years in the same field also suppressed
insects, weeds, and diseases by effectively breaking the life cycles of these pests. A typical corn-belt farmer
grew corn rotated with several crops including soybeans as well as the clovers, alfalfa, and small grains needed
to maintain livestock. Most of the labor was done by the family with occasional hired help, and no specialized
equipment or services were purchased from off-farm sources. In these types of farming systems the link between
agriculture and ecology was quite strong and signs of environmental degradation were seldom evident.
The significance of biological diversity in maintaining such systems cannot be overemphasized. Diversity of
crops above ground as well as diversity of soil life below ground provided protection against the vagaries of
weather, market swings, as well as outbreaks of diseases or insect pests. But as agricultural modernization
progressed, the ecology-farming linkage was often broken as ecological principles were ignored or overridden.
Numerous agricultural scientists agree that modern agriculture confronts an environmental crisis. A growing
number of people have become concerned about the long-term sustainability of existing food production
systems. Evidence has accumulated showing that, while the present capital- and technology-intensive farming
systems have been extremely productive and able to furnish low-cost food, they also bring a variety of economic,
environmental, and social problems.
Evidence also shows that the very nature of the agricultural structure and prevailing policies in a capitalist setting
have led to this environmental crisis by favoring large farm size, specialized production, crop monocultures, and
mechanization. Today as more and more farmers are integrated into international economies, the biological
imperative of diversity disappears due to the use of many kinds of pesticides and synthetic fertilizers, and
specialized farms are rewarded by economies of scale. In turn, lack of good rotations and diversification take
away key self-regulating mechanisms, turning monocultures into highly vulnerable agricultural ecosystems
(agroecosystems) dependent on high chemical inputs.
Monocultures or near monocultures have increased dramatically worldwide, where the same crop (usually corn,
wheat, or rice) are grown year after year in the same field, or very simple rotations are used (such as cornsoybeans-corn-soybeans). Also fields that in the past contained many different crops, or a single crop with a high
degree of genetic variability, are now entirely devoted to a genetically uniform single crop. Available data
indicate that the amount of crop diversity per unit of arable land has decreased and that croplands have also
shown a tendency toward concentration in fewer hands. There are political and economic forces influencing the
trend to devote large areas to monoculture, and in fact the economies of scale of such systems contribute
significantly to the ability of national agricultures to serve international markets.
The technologies allowing the shift toward specialization and monoculture were mechanization, the
improvement of crop varieties, and the development of agrichemicals to fertilize crops and control weeds,
insects, and other crop pests as well as antibiotics and growth stimulants for agricultural animals. United States
government commodity policies over the last several decades encouraged the acceptance and utilization of these
technologies. In addition, the largest agribusiness corporations have found that concentrating certain processing
facilities for a given product (chickens, hogs, or wheat) in specific areas of the country produces more profits,
which lead to more farm and regional specialization. As a result, farms today are fewer, larger, more specialized,
and more capital intensive.
From an ecological perspective, the regional consequences of monoculture specialization are many-fold:
(1) Most large-scale agricultural systems exhibit a poorly structured grouping of farm components, with almost
no linkages or complementary relationships between crop enterprises, and among soils, crops, and animals.
(2) Cycles of nutrients, energy, water, and wastes have become more open, rather than closed as in a natural
ecosystem (see the Foster and Magdoff article in this issue). Despite the substantial amount of crop residues and
manure produced on farms, it is becoming increasingly difficult to recycle nutrients, even within agricultural
systems. Animal wastes cannot economically be returned to the land in a nutrient-recycling process because
animal production is frequently geographically remote from where crops are grown. In many areas, agricultural
waste has become a liability rather than a resource. Recycling nutrients from urban centers back to the fields is
similarly difficult.
(3) Part of agroecosystem instability, and susceptibility to pests can be linked to the adoption of vast areas of
crop monocultures or very simple rotations, which have concentrated resources for specialized crop-eating
insects and have increased the areas available for the migration of pests. This simplification has also reduced
environmental opportunities for natural enemies. Consequently, pest outbreaks often occur when large numbers
of immigrant pests, inhibited populations of beneficial insects, favorable weather, and vulnerable crop stages
happen simultaneously. The depletion of soil organic matter has also reduced the food supply of soil organisms,
leading to less diversity of soil life, and therefore to fewer natural checks on potential pest problems.
(4) As specific crops are expanded beyond their "natural" ranges or favorable regions to areas with high pest
potential, or limited water, or low-fertility soils, intensified chemical controls are required to overcome such
factors. The assumption is that the human intervention and level of energy inputs that allow these expansions can
be sustained indefinitely.
(5) Commercial farmers witness a constant parade of new crop varieties as varietal replacement, due to biotic
stresses and market changes, has accelerated to unprecedented levels. A variety with improved disease or insect
resistance makes a debut, performs well for a few years (typically five to nine years) and is then succeeded by
another variety when yields are threatened by pests or a more promising one becomes available. A variety's
trajectory is characterized by a take-off phase when it is adopted by farmers, a middle stage when the planted
area stabilizes, and finally a retraction of its acreage. Thus, modern agriculture relies on a continuous supply of
new varieties rather than a patchwork quilt of many different varieties planted on the same farm.
(6) Although monoculture cropping requires increased use of pesticides and fertilizers, the efficiency of use of
applied inputs is decreasing and yields of most key crops are leveling off. In some places, yields are actually
declining. There are different opinions as to the underlying causes of this phenomenon. Some believe that yields
are leveling off because the maximum yield potential of current varieties is being approached, and therefore
genetic engineering must be applied to the task of redesigning crops. Agroecologists, on the other hand, believe
that the leveling off is due to the steady erosion of the productive base of agriculture through unsustainable
The specialization of farms has led to the image that agriculture is a modern miracle of food production.
However, excessive reliance on farm specialization (including crop monocultures) and inputs such as capitalintensive technology, pesticides, and synthetic fertilizers, has negatively impacted the environment and rural
society. A number of what might be called "ecological diseases" have been associated with the intensification of
food production and can be grouped into two categories. There are problems directly associated with the basic
resources of soil and water, which include soil erosion, loss of inherent soil productivity and depletion of nutrient
reserves, salinization and alkalinization (especially in arid and semi-arid regions), pollution of surface and
groundwater, and loss of croplands to urban development. Problems directly related to crops, animals, and pests
include loss of crop, wild plant, and animal genetic resources, elimination of natural enemies of pests, pest
resurgence and genetic resistance to pesticides, chemical contamination, and destruction of natural control
mechanisms. Each "ecological disease" is usually viewed as an independent problem, rather than what it really is
- a symptom of a poorly designed and poorly functioning system. Under conditions of intensive management,
treatment of such "diseases" requires an increase in the external costs to the extent that, in some agricultural
systems, the amount of energy invested to produce a desired yield surpasses the energy harvested.
The substantial yield losses due to pests, about 20 to 30 percent for most crops despite the increase in the use of
pesticides (about 4.7 billion pounds of pesticides were used worldwide in 1995, 1.2 billion pounds in the United
States alone), is a symptom of the environmental crisis affecting agriculture. Cultivated plants grown in
genetically homogeneous monocultures do not possess the necessary ecological defense mechanisms to tolerate
the impact of pest outbreaks. Modern agriculturists have selected crops mainly for high yields and high
palatability, making them more susceptible to pests by sacrificing natural resistance for productivity. And as
modern agricultural practices reduce or eliminate the resources and opportunities for natural enemies of pests,
their numbers decline, decreasing the biological suppression of pests. Due to this lack of natural controls, an
investment of about $40 billion in pesticide control is incurred yearly by U.S. farmers, which is estimated to save
approximately $16 billion in U.S. crops. However, the indirect costs of pesticide use to the environment and
public health have to be balanced against these benefits. based on the available data, the environmental costs
(impacts on wildlife, pollinators, natural enemies, fisheries, water, and development of resistance) and social
costs (human poisonings and illnesses) of pesticide use reach about $8 billion each year. What is worrisome is
that pesticide use is still high and still rising in some cropping systems. Data from California shows that from
1991 to 1995 pesticide use increased from 161 to 212 million pounds of active ingredient. This increase was not
due to increases in planted acreage, as statewide crop acreage remained constant during this period. Much of the
increase is for particularly toxic pesticides, many of which are linked to cancers, used on such crops as
strawberries and grapes.
The reliance on pesticides to deal with crop pests has created the need to continually develop new pesticides. As
a pesticide is used again and again, a certain percentage of the target pest is able to survive because of a natural
resistance to the chemical. It doesn't take too long before a large portion of the target weeds, insects, or other
pests become resistant to the pesticide. This keeps the farmer on a "pesticide treadmill" as the older pesticides
lose their effectiveness and new ones need to be used.
Fertilizers have been praised as being responsible for the temporary increase in food production observed in
many countries. National average rates of nitrogen applied to most arable lands fluctuate between 120-550 kg
N/ha (110 to 490 lb N/A). But the bountiful harvests created at least in part through the use of synthetic
fertilizers have associated environmental costs. Two main reasons why synthetic fertilizers pollute the
environment are their wasteful application and the fact that crops use them inefficiently. A significant amount of
fertilizer that is not recovered by the crops ends up in surface or groundwater. Nitrate contamination of aquifers
is widespread and in dangerously high levels in many rural regions of the world. It is estimated that more than 25
percent of the drinking water wells in the United States contain nitrogen in the nitrate form above the safety
standard of 10 parts per million. Such nitrate levels are hazardous to human health, and studies have linked
nitrate uptake to methemoglobinemia (low blood oxygen levels) in children and to gastric, bladder, and
esophageal cancers in adults.
It is estimated that about 50-70 percent of all nutrients that reach surface waters in the United States are derived
from fertilizers. Fertilizer nutrients that enter surface waters (rivers, lakes, bays) can promote eutrophication,
characterized usually by a population explosion of algae. Algal blooms turn the water bright green, sometimes
prevent light from penetrating beneath surface layers, and therefore kills plants living on the bottom. Such dead
vegetation serves as food for other aquatic microorganisms which soon deplete water of its oxygen, inhibiting
the decomposition of organic residues, which accumulate on the bottom. Eventually, such nutrient enrichment of
freshwater ecosystems can lead to the destruction of all animal life in the water systems. In the Gulf of Mexico
there is a huge "dead zone," extending from the mouth of the Mississippi River to the west, where the excessive
nutrients from farmland are believed to be responsible for oxygen depletion. It is also believed that excess
nutrients may stimulate populations of the very toxic form of Pfiesteria, an organism that kills fish and is harmful
to humans.
Synthetic nitrogen fertilizers can also become air pollutants, and have recently been implicated in contributing to
the destruction of the ozone layer and global warming. Their excessive use causes soils to become more acidic
and also leads to nutritional imbalances in plants, resulting in a higher incidence of damage from insect pests and
It is clear then that the first wave of environmental problems is deeply rooted in the prevalent socioeconomic
system that promotes monocultures and the use of high input technologies and agricultural practices that lead to
natural resource degradation. Such degradation is not only an ecological process, but also a social and political-
economic process. Therefore, the problem of agricultural production cannot be regarded only as a technological
one; attention to social, cultural, political, and economic issues that account for the crisis is crucial. This is
particularly true today where the economic and political domination of the rural development agenda by
agribusiness has thrived at the expense of the interests of farmworkers, small family farms, rural communities,
the general public, wildlife, and the environment.
Despite that the awareness of the impacts of modern technologies on the environment increased as we trace
pesticides in food chains and crop nutrients in surface waters and aquifers, some still argue for further
intensification to meet the requirements of agricultural production in the twenty-first century. It is in this context
that supporters of "status quo agriculture" celebrate the emergence of biotechnology as the latest magic bullet,
which will revolutionize agriculture with products based on nature's own methods, making farming more
environmentally friendly and more profitable for the farmer. Although certain forms of biotechnology hold
promise for an improved agriculture, under the control of multinational corporations it is more likely that the
results will be environmental harm, the further industrialization of agriculture (see Lewontin article, this issue),
and the intrusion of private interests too far into public-interest sector research.
It is ironic that the biotech revolution in agriculture is being promoted by the same corporate interests
(Monsanto, Novartis, DuPont) that championed the first wave of chemically-based agriculture. They now claim
that by genetically modifying plants they can reduce chemically intensive farming and help develop a more
sustainable agriculture. However, their practices to date do not instill great confidence in the supposedly benign
effects of their products on the environment. The companies are developing products (various crop varieties) that
produce immense profits while completely fitting in with the approaches which have been so harmful in the past.
For example, two of the main thrusts of agricultural biotechnology have been the production of crop varieties
that are either resistant to herbicides (so farmers will purchase and use more of the company's weed-killing
chemicals) or contain a toxin that kills potential insect pests (in which case less insecticide is needed). The
advantage claimed for the herbicide resistant crops is that the newer herbicides are less toxic than some of the
older ones. However, such biotechnological products will do nothing but reinforce the pesticide treadmill in
agroecosystems, thus legitimizing the concerns that many scientists have expressed regarding the possible
environmental risks of genetically engineered organisms. When genes for the insect toxin from the bacteria
Bacillus thuringiensis (Bt) are incorporated into plants, the plants produce the toxin and feeding insects can be
killed. Although less insecticide will be needed for Bt crops, their use can create other problems (see below).
So far, field research as well as predictions based on ecological theory indicate that the major environmental
risks associated with the release of genetically engineered crops can be summarized as follows:
(1) The trends set forth by corporations is to create broad international markets for a single product, thus creating
the conditions for genetic uniformity in rural landscapes. History has repeatedly shown that a huge area planted
with a single variety is very vulnerable to a new matching strain of a pathogen or insect pest.
(2) The spread of such crops threatens crop genetic diversity by simplifying cropping systems and promoting
genetic erosion as older varieties become extinct.
(3) There is potential for the unintended transfer to plant relatives of the added genes with unpredictable
ecological effects. The transfer of genes from herbicide resistant crops (HRCs) to wild or semidomesticated
relatives (through cross-pollination) can lead to the creation of super weeds.
(4) Most insect pests will quickly develop resistance to the Bt toxin. Several moth species have been reported to
have developed resistance to Bt toxin in both field and laboratory tests, suggesting that major resistance
problems are likely to develop in Bt crops.
(5) Massive use of Bt toxin in crops can unleash potential negative interactions affecting ecological processes
and nontarget organisms. Studies conducted in Scotland suggest that aphid pests were capable of transferring the
toxin from Bt crops to a beneficial beetle that feeds on the aphid. This decreased reproduction and longevity of
the beneficial beetle.
(6) Pollen from Bt crops carried by wind and deposited on wild plants can eliminate natural populations of
insect herbivores, as suggested by a recent Cornell study which showed that 44 percent of the monarch butterfly
caterpillars eating milkweed leaves artificially dusted with BT corn polen died after four days of exposure.
(7) Bt toxins can also be incorporated into the soil through leaf materials and litter, where they may persist for
two to three months, resisting degradation by binding to soil clay particles while maintaining toxic activity, in
turn negatively affecting soil organisms and nutrient cycling.
(8) A potential risk of plants containing introduced genetic material from viruses opens the possibility of new
virus strains developing when viruses that infect the plant combine with the viral genes introduced by biotech
(9) Another important environmental concern associated with the large-scale cultivation of virus-resistant,
genetically modified crops relates to the possible transfer via flower pollen of virus-derived genes into wild plant
Although there are many unanswered questions regarding the impact of the release into the environment of
plants and micro-organisms containing genes from other organisms, it is expected that biotechnology will
exacerbate the problems of conventional agriculture, and by promoting monocultures will also undermine
ecological methods of farming such as rotations and polycultures (where two or more crops are grown together).
Because genetically modified crops developed for pest control emphasize the use of a single control mechanism,
which has proven to fail over and over again with insects, pathogens and weeds, these crops are likely to increase
the use of pesticides and to accelerate the evolution of "super weeds" and resistant insect pest strains. These
possibilities are worrisome, especially when considering that in 1997 the global area devoted to genetically
modified crops reached 12.8 million hectares. Seventy-two percent of the 25,000 genetically modified crop field
trials were conducted in the United States and Canada, although some were also conducted, in descending order,
in Europe, Latin America, and Asia. In most countries prudent safety standards to monitor such releases are
absent or are inadequate to prevent or even predict ecological risks. In the industrialized countries from 19861992, over half of all field trials to test genetically modified crops involved herbicide tolerance. As Roundup
(made by Monsanto) and other broad spectrum herbicides are increasingly used on cropland, the options for
farmers for a diversified agriculture will be even more limited.
Reduction and especially elimination of agrichemical use require major changes in management to assure
adequate plant nutrients and to control crop pests. As was done not that many decades ago, alternative sources of
nutrients can maintain soil fertility. These include manures, sewage sludge and other organic wastes, and
legumes grown in rotations. The benefits of good rotations result from biologically fixed nitrogen and the
interruption of weed, disease, and insect cycles. Livestock may be integrated with grain cropping to provide
animal manures and to utilize better the forage produced. The maximum benefits of biological diversity on farms
can be realized when livestock, crops, animals, and other farm resources are used (including good rotational
designs) to optimize production efficiency, nutrient cycling, and crop protection.
In orchards and vineyards, the use of cover crops improves soil fertility, soil structure, and water infiltration;
prevents soil erosion, modifies the climate around the plants, and reduces weed competition. Orchards with
ground cover vegetation have been shown to have fewer insect pests than clean cultivated orchards. This is due
to a higher abundance and efficiency of predators and parasitoids (insects that lay eggs in other insects),
enhanced by the rich floral undergrowth.
Increasingly, researchers are showing that it is possible to provide a balanced environment, sustained yields,
biologically mediated soil fertility, and natural pest regulation through the design of diversified agroecosystems
and the use of low-input technologies. Many alternative cropping systems have been developed and evaluated,
such as double cropping, strip cropping, cover cropping, and intercropping. More importantly, concrete
examples from farmers themselves show that such systems lead to optimal cycling of nutrients and organic
matter turnover, closed energy flows, water and soil conservation and balanced pest-natural enemy populations.
Such diversified farming exploits the complementary relationships that result from the various combinations of
crops, trees, and animals in spatial and temporal arrangements.
The behavior of agroecosystems depends on the level of interactions between the various biological and
nonbiological components. By creating a functional biodiversity, processes occur that provide ecological
services such as the activation of soil organisms, the cycling of nutrients, the enhancement of beneficial insects
and antagonists, and so on. Today there is a wide selection of available practices and technologies, which vary in
effectiveness as well as in strategic value.
toward a more socially just, economically viable, and environmentally sound agriculture will be the result of
social movements in the rural sector in alliance with urban organizations.
Chapter Five
We are all familiar with the classical story of how capitalism came to dominate industrial production and how
capitalist relations of production swallowed up the individual artisanal producer. We recognize the power that
the capitalist mode has to infiltrate and finally transform other forms of the organization of production and
exchange. We sometimes think that the power of that transformation is so great that all of the significant action
already occurred in the past, at least in Europe and North America, and was essentially over by the end of the
nineteenth century. In the society we inhabit, it is a fait accompli, whose dynamic we can only understand by
reconstructing the past because it is not happening around us. On second thought we realize that the transition
was still in progress until very recently in a few skilled domains like medical care and entertainment, where
individual artisans were able to ply their trade throughout most of this century, but these fossils of early capitalist
relations seem exceptional because of their requirement of special talents or of necessary skills acquired by long
training. But the view that the transition to mature capitalism is essentially over except at the margins of the
main body of commodity production is clearly wrong, because it ignores an immense sector of basic essential
commodity production, agriculture, which is still in the throes of the transition.
The penetration of capital into agriculture has been a long process of a different form than the classical case of
industrial production usually exemplified by cloth weaving in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Indeed, on
the surface agriculture would seem to have been resistant to capital. After all, despite a 72 percent drop in the
number of of individual farm enterprises in the United States from 6.7 million in 1930, there are still about 1.8
million independent farm producers today. This means that even though only 6 percent of these establishments
account for 60 percent of the total value of farm production, there are over 100,000 separate enterprises
producing more than half of all the value of the output. In the industrial manufacturing sector the four largest
enterprises account for an average of 40 percent of value produced, and even in a highly differentiated product
like clothing the top four companies produce over 15 percent of the value.
There has also been a major increase in the proportion of farmland that is leased to farmers who also own their
own land. Roughly 55 percent of farmland is now operated by owner-renters who are for the most part small
producers. Finally, despite the conventional wisdom that corporate farming is taking over, the proportion of
farms and farmland operated by managers representing absentee owners has remained about 1 percent since the
beginning of the century. Thus if we are to look for evidence of the capitalist transformation of agriculture, we
will not find it in the classical industrial model. We do not find a concentration of more and more productive
capacity in the hands of a very small number of farmers, employing a large wage labor force carrying out its
tasks under close supervision and according to a tightly controlled schedule. There are, of course, some examples
of a factory-like labor process in farming, especially in the harvesting of fruits and fresh vegetables, and these
are often pointed to as evidence of a capitalist transformation to factory farming. However, the vast majority of
farm enterprises do not employ a large labor force, but more typically have one or two hired laborers, usually for
only part of the year.
In analyzing the process of the capitalist transformation of agriculture we must distinguish between farming and
the agrifood system. Farming is the physical process of turning inputs like seed, feed, water, fertilizer, and
pesticides into primary products like wheat, potatoes, and cattle on a specific site, the farm, using soil, labor, and
machinery. The failure of classical capitalist concentration in farming arises from both financial and physical
features of farm production. First, the ownership of farmland is unattractive to capital because it cannot be
depreciated, and investment in farmland has very low liquidity as a consequence of the thin farm real estate
market. Second, the labor process on very large farms is hard to control because farming operations are spatially
extensive. Third, economies of scale are hard to achieve beyond what has already been realized by medium-scale
enterprises. Fourth, risks from external natural events like weather, new diseases, and pests are hard to control.
Finally, the cycle of reproduction of capital cannot be shortened because it is linked to an annual growth cycle in
plants, or a fixed reproductive cycle in large animals. An important exception to this constraint has been in
poultry, where there has been considerable success in shortening the reproductive cycle, and this has had
important ramifications for the development of capitalist farming as we will see. For all of these reasons we do
not expect to see, and have not seen, the wholesale direct takeover of farm ownership by large corporate
enterprises employing large, well-controlled labor forces.
The agrifood system, however, is not simply farming. It includes the farm operation, but also the production,
transportation, and marketing of the inputs to farming, as well as the transportation, processing, and marketing of
the farm outputs. While farming is a physically essential step in the entire chain of agricultural production, the
provision of farm inputs and the transformation of farm outputs into consumer commodities have come to
dominate the economy of agriculture. Farming itself now accounts for only about 10 percent of the value added
in the agrifood system, with 25 percent of the food dollar paying for farm inputs and the remaining 65 percent
gained by transportation, processing, and marketing that converts farm products into consumer commodities. At
the beginning of the century the value added on the farm was around 40 percent of the total food dollar, and
many of the inputs were produced directly on the farm in the form of seed, draught animals, feed for the animals,
manure and green manure for fertilizer, and family labor. For the most part these inputs are now purchased in the
form of commercial seed, tractors, fuel, refined or synthesized chemical fertilizers, and machinery and
manufactured chemical substitutes for labor. Thus, it is the production of farm inputs and the transformation of
farm outputs that have provided an opportunity for industrial capital to capture profits in the agricultural sector.
Like any other industrial processes, the production of farm machinery, chemicals, and seeds, and the turning of
threshed wheat into a box of breakfast cereal at the supermarket checkout counter are completely controlled by
capital and its demands. The problem for capital, however, has been that sitting in the middle of the
transformation of petroleum into potato chips is an essential step, farming, in the hands of two million petty
producers. They cannot be dispensed with, they own certain essential means of production whose ownership
cannot be concentrated (land in particular), and, while they are economically rational, they consume their surplus
rather than turning it into capital. Agriculture is unique among all the sectors of capitalist production by
possessing at its productive center an essential process organized around large numbers of independent petty
producers. It is as if the spinning of yarn, the weaving of cloth, and the sewing of garments were in the hands of
a few large capital enterprises (as they are), but the dyeing and finishing of the raw woven material were
unavoidably the exclusive province of hundreds of thousands of home producers who bought the unfinished
cloth and sold their product to clothing factories.
Farm producers have historically been in possession of two powers that stood in the way of the development of
capital in agriculture. First, farmers could make choices about the physical process of farm production, including
what was grown and how much, and what inputs were to be used. These choices, of course, were always
constrained, partly because of local conditions of climate and soil, and partly because of the local nature of
markets for farm products. Second, farmers were themselves traditionally potential competitors with the
commercial providers of inputs, because they could choose to produce seed, traction power, and fertilizer
themselves. The problem for industrial capital, then, has been to wrest control of the choices from the farmers,
forcing them into a farming process that uses a package of inputs of maximum value to the producers of those
inputs, and tailoring the nature of farm products to match the demands of a few major purchasers of farm outputs
who have the power to determine the price paid. Whatever production risks remain are, of course, retained by the
farmer. As the farmer loses any power to choose the actual nature and tempo of the production process in which
he or she is engaged, while at the same time losing any ability to sell the product in an open market, the farmer
becomes a mere operative in a determined chain whose product is alienated from the producer. That is, the
farmer becomes proletarianized. It is of little import that the farmer retains legal title to the land and buildings
and so, in some literal sense, is the owner of some of the means of production. There is no alternative economic
use for these means. The essence of proletarianization is in the loss of control over one's labor process and the
alienation of the product of that labor.
How has this transformation of farming been accomplished? In the first stages, in the century between the
invention of reaping machines and the end of the Second World War, innovations in farming directly addressed
that problem of the availability, cost, and control of farm labor through mechanization. No farmer could resist
the arrival of the tractor, nor could one be home built. After the Second World War, refined and synthetic
chemical treatments became the chief purchased inputs in the form of fertilizer, insecticides, and labor-saving
herbicides. Again, these purchased inputs could not be resisted because of the large increase in yields and the
reduction in labor. Herbicides, in particular, also reduced the requirement for tillage machinery, insecticides
reduced the uncertainty of a successful crop, hormone sprays allowed for a close control of ripening time in fruit
crops, and antibiotics prevented animal diseases. Once again there could be no competition between these
industrial products and self-produced farm inputs.
The analysis of the growing role of capital inputs cannot be made, however, if a central feature of the productive
process is lost sight of: the concrete use of all these inputs is to produce living organisms. The steps of
mechanization and the use of chemicals were not possible in isolation from the nature of the organisms being
produced. Unlike in other sectors of production, in agriculture living organisms are at the nexus of all input
streams and are the primary sources of all output transformations. But living organisms are mortal, so their
production requires their reproduction. That is, every cycle of farm production begins with seeds or immature
animals to which value is added by on-the-farm operations, so seed (or the "seed" animal) is the central input
into farming. The control of the biological nature of these seed organisms is a critical element in the control of
the entire process of agricultural production, which puts the provider of this input in a unique position to valorize
other inputs. For example, while a dramatic drop in the price of nitrogen fertilizer at the end of the Second World
War made it economically possible for farmers to use this input in large quantifies, for this input to be useful it
was necessary to breed plants, corn hybrids in particular, that could, in fact, turn a massive nitrogen application
into crop yield. The successful mechanization of tomato harvesting was only possible by a close cooperation of
the machine designers with plant breeders. The breeders completely remade the biology of the tomato plant,
turning a loosely branched plant that flowers and sets easily bruised fruit continuously over the growing season
into a short, stout, Christmas tree-like plant whose tough fruits all ripen at about the same time.
The consequence of the central position of seed input in the production process is that seed companies are
potentially in an extraordinarily powerful position to appropriate a large fraction of the surplus in agriculture.
There is a barrier to this realization however. The seed of a desirable variety, when planted by the farmer,
produces plants that themselves produce yet more seed of the variety. Thus the seed company has provided the
farmer with a free good, the genetic information contained in the seed, that is reproduced by the farmer over and
over again in the very act of farming. Some way must be found to prevent the farmer from reproducing the seed
for next year's crop. The historical answer to this problem was the development of the inbred/hybrid method of
breeding, using hybrid crosses between inbred lines, which makes it possible to sell seed that will produce hybrid
plants, but which themselves do not reproduce hybrids. Because the second generation would not be true hybrids
and thus would lose yield and be more variable, the farmer must go back to the seed company every year to buy
new seed. As a result of the immense profits made by seed companies selling hybrid maize seed, the method was
spread into other organisms such as tomatoes and chickens. Moreover major commercial hybrid seed and
chicken breeders like Dekalb, Funk, and Northrup-King were at one time acquired by pharmaceutical and
chemical companies like Ciba-Geigy, Monsanto, and Dow, although subsequently there have been divestments
and realignments. Only the largest hybrid seed company, Pioneer Hy-Bred, remained obdurately independent
until, in 1997, 20 percent of its equity and two seats on its board were purchased by DuPont.
Generally, the ability of commercial seed companies to control seed inputs by the inbred/hybrid method was
severely limited. First, the method cannot be made economically workable in many important crops like
soybeans and wheat, or in large animals. Second, while the inbred/hybrid method was successful for general
yield increase, large numbers of important specific characters such as resistance to particular diseases, or
resistance to herbicides, or increases in oil content in oil seeds, do not show hybrid vigor, but must be introduced
by other breeding methods. Third, there are characteristics that would be desirable to introduce into an
agronomically important species, but which are present in other organisms that cannot breed with the species
under cultivation. The most famous example was the desire to make corn plants able to fix nitrogen from the
atmosphere, as legumes are able to do, by making their roots hospitable to nitrogen-fixing bacteria. While this
would reduce the market for nitrogenous fertilizers, it would place the provision of nitrogen in the hands of seed
The limitations on what changes could be made to agronomic species that would be profitable to seed companies
and their chemical company partners or owners meant that the penetration of capital into agriculture had reached
its apparent limits in the 1970s. The introduction of major new forms of mechanization into farm production had
come to an end, partly because of the dramatic change in the cost of fuel and partly because a steady supply of
immigrant labor that could be deported smiled progress in agricultural labor organizing. The growing public
consciousness of the polluting effects of fertilizers and pesticides and the development of OSHA regulations to
protect farm workers against the deleterious effects of insecticide and herbicide sprays discouraged radical
changes in the uses of chemicals or even continued growth in the use of older materials. In addition, these
fertilizers and pesticides were being used at very high rates, probably higher than could be economically justified
by the farmer. There was, for example, no growth in fertilizers after 1975 or in synthetic pesticide application
rates beginning in about 1980. Any further possibility for input providers and output purchasers to increase their
appropriation of the surplus in agriculture depended on 1) making some radical changes in the biology of
agronomic species, and 2) guaranteeing that such changed biological systems would remain within their
ownership and control. Moreover, that appropriation could be greatly increased by a greater consolidation of
both input and post-farm production sectors (purchasing, processing, and distribution), to provide near monopoly
control. Enter biotechnology.
The claim is being made here that the purpose of the commercial use of biotechnology is to extend the control of
capital over agricultural production. To accomplish this purpose biotechnological innovation should meet three
criteria. First, the time and cost of its development must be within the limits set by capital investments in
research. Thus, the attempt to introduce nitrogen fixation into non-leguminous plants has been largely abandoned
by Agricetus, Agrigenetica, Biotechnica, and other biotechnology enterprises after spending over $75 million on
the problem over more than ten years, despite the evidence that it ought to be possible, and despite the immense
profits that could be made if it were successful. Second, the development must not provoke a significant
challenge from politically effective forces concerned with health and environmental issues. All biotechnological
innovations have been challenged on the basis of environmental and health risks, and this contributed
significantly to the demise of at least one early biotech project. An important impetus for introducing
biotechnology is that the resistance to yet further applications of fertilizer and pesticides was impeding further
increase in the appropriation of the surplus in agriculture by input producers. Third, ownership and control of the
product of biotechnology must not pass into the hands of the farmer but must remain with the commercial
provider of the input.
The requirement that the biotechnological innovator maintain ownership and control over the altered variety
creates a contradiction. As previously discussed, the farmer acquires a free good, the genetic information
contained in the seed, when he or she purchases a new variety, and the breeder loses its ownership. The property
rights protection offered by the inbred/hybrid method is limited to a few organisms and a few agronomic
characteristics, and biotechnology has been introduced in precisely those instances where the inbred/hybrid
method does not apply. How, then, can breeders appropriate a greater share of the surplus when they are giving
away the critical material, the genes? The answer has been provided by a combination of legal and biological
weapons in the hands of the breeders. These weapons are legal rights granted to breeders by the Plant Variety
Protection Act and subsequent court decisions, in combination with the use of standard DNA "fingerprinting"
that allows an unambiguous determination of the source of farm products. It is now standard that a farmer who
wishes to purchase a bioengineered seed must sign a contract with the seed producer giving away all property
rights in the next generation of seed produced by the crop. Not only does the farmer undertake not to sell seed
from the crop to other farmers ("brown bagging"), but more revolutionary, the farmer is prohibited from using
the next generation of seed to produce next year's crop on his or her own farm. All farmers who buy seed of
Monsanto's Roundup Ready soybeans, or that company's seed potatoes for a special variety that makes "light"
potato chips with low oil retention, must, by the terms of the contract, return to Monsanto in the next season if
they wish to continue production of those varieties. (Monsanto is the producer of Roundup, a potent herbicide
that kills all plants including soybeans. "Roundup Ready" soybeans, produced by genetic engineering, can be
grown in fields heavily treated with Roundup without killing them and, presumably, without materially affecting
their yield.) The enforcement of such a contract depends on the ability of Monsanto to identify a crop, and this
can easily be done from a single plant or even a single seed because the DNA of the engineered variety contains
certain characteristic sequences, placed there deliberately by the genetic engineers, that are unique to the variety.
The assay of crops for such labeled sequences is called "genome control" by the biotechnology laboratories of
seed producers, and a considerable laboratory effort has been put into developing these detection techniques.
Nevertheless some brown bagging and replanting has been taking place. In reaction, Monsanto has placed fullpage advertisements in magazines read by farmers, threatening and cajoling:
When a farmer saves and replants Monsanto patented biotech seed, he understands that what he is doing is wrong. And that,
even if he did not sign an agreement at the time he acquired the seed [that is, replanted or bought "brown bag" seed from a
neighbor], he is committing an act of piracy.... Furthermore, seed piracy could cost a farmer hundreds of dollars per acre in
cash settlements and legal fees, plus multiple years of on-farm and business records inspection.
It only takes a few widely publicized legal judgments to keep the rest in line.
But the story of property rights has yet one more chapter. The inbred/hybrid method only applies to a few
organisms, and the contract system requires threats, monitoring, and litigation to make it work. It is
biotechnology that has now perfected the solution to ownership in seed crops. It was announced on March 3,
1998 that a patent had been granted for a genetic manipulation that would allow plants to set seed and therefore
make a crop, but which would render those seeds unable to germinate. Thus, at one blow, the problem of
capitalist seed production, first addressed by the invention of the inbred/hybrid method at the beginning of this
century, has been solved for all seed crops. As the inventors point out, there is still development to be carried out
before this bit of biotechnology becomes a commercial reality, but there seems no bar to its transfer to any crop.
And who are the inventors and owners of this patent? They are the Delta and Pine Land Company, a leading
breeder and producer of cotton seed and soybean seed, and the Agricultural Research Service of the United
States Department of Agriculture. Yet there is no suggestion that this development will be of any benefit to
farmers or consumers. We could hardly ask for a more blatant case of state support of private property interests
to the exclusion of any public benefit.
The use of the contract to enforce breeders' property rights allows us to make some predictions about the
limitations of genetic engineering. At the present time the hormone BST, which causes dairy cows to direct more
of their metabolism to milk production, is produced commercially by Monsanto in fermenters using genetically
altered bacteria. But cattle normally produce their own BST, and there is no reason that the regulatory DNA that
controls production of this protein in cows could not be altered to increase the amount. This would then make the
purchase and administration of commercial BGH unnecessary. We can predict, however, that this is unlikely.
First, dairy herds have always been largely self-reproducing on small- to medium-sized enterprises, and there are
no major commercial dairy herd breeders equivalent to major seed companies. Second, enforcement would be
very difficult. It is easy for a representative of Monsanto to "acquire" a single potato or a few seeds from any
farmer's field, or from a local elevator. It is considerably more intrusive to take the blood or tissue sample from a
farmer's dairy herd that would be needed for "genome control." Moreover, since dairy herds are not all
reproduced at one time but have overlapping generations, it would be impossible to say, except after a number of
years, whether a cow was one of the originally purchased stock, or an offspring.
If the only effect of biotechnology and the contract system of guaranteeing property rights were to extend the
domain of manufactured inputs into farming, nothing very revolutionary would have occurred. Farmers for a
long time have been the purchasers of manufactured inputs. The major structural changes that are occurring in
agriculture arise from a vertical integration of farm production in such a way that the purchasers of farm outputs
take control of the entire production process. This vertical integration is made possible by 1) a technical linking
of the inputs and outputs, 2) the dual function of a single capital enterprise as both the monopsonist (near
monopoly) purchaser of outputs and the provider of critical inputs, and 3) a contract mechanism that links farmer
into the loop of inputs and outputs. The use of such contracts predates biotechnology. Wherever the purchaser of
farm outputs is also the processor of those outputs for the market, the possibility of vertical integration has
existed. Contract farming has been a common feature of vegetable production for canning. Tomato canneries in
Ohio were built in a location central to the farms, the canning company provided the seed and chemical inputs
and collected the ripe tomatoes. The farmer provided the land and labor. But the system has evolved greatly
since the first canning contracts. The critical role played by biotechnology has been in the material linking of
inputs and outputs. In order to guarantee an efficient integrated system of production, the biological inputs into
the chain of production, the organisms being raised, are engineered to fit the package of other inputs, the
mechanics of the farming process, and the qualifies that the final output is to have for the market. While some of
these aims can be accomplished by conventional methods of breeding organisms, many of the needed qualifies,
such as specific disease resistance or qualitative changes in the composition of the organism, are best produced
by biotechnological manipulations. Moreover various cloning and cell culture techniques make it possible to
reduplicate large numbers of input organisms with desired heritable qualifies, no matter how those qualities were
originally produced.
An example of the nature of contract farming is in the production of broilers (chickens raised as meat) where the
system is especially entrenched. A major supplier of chickens to supermarkets and fast food restaurants is Tyson
Farms of South Carolina. Tyson chickens are produced, not by Tyson "Farms," but by small farmers, owning
about 100 acres, producing an average of 250,000 chickens per year, with a gross income of about $65,000 and a
net of around $12,000.
This production is under a four-year contract with Tyson (or other similar regional firms), a contract that makes
Tyson the sole provider of the chicks to be raised, the feed, and veterinary services. The company is also the sole
determiner of the number, frequency, and type of chicks provided. Tyson then collects the mature birds after
seven weeks, at a date and time of their own determination, providing the scales on which the birds are weighed
and the trucks to take them away. The farmer provides the labor, the buildings in which the chicks are raised, and
the land on which the buildings stand. The detailed control of inputs and farming practices are entirely in the
hands of Tyson. So, "The Producer (farmer) warrants that he will not use or allowed to be used ... any feed,
medication, herbicides, pesticides, rodenticides, insecticides or any other items except as supplied or approved in
writing by the Company." Moreover, the farmer must adhere to the Company's "Broiler Growing Guide" and a
failure to do so puts the farmer into "Intensified Management" status under the direct supervision of the
Company's "Broiler Management and Technical Advisor."
The chicken farmer has ceased to be an independent artisan, buying materials, transforming them by his or her
labor, and selling the product on a market. The contract farmer buys nothing, sells nothing, nor makes any
decisions about the physical process of transformation. The farmer does own some of the means of production,
land and buildings, but has no control over the labor process or over the alienated product. The farmer has then
become the typical "putting out" worker characteristic of the first stages of capitalist production in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. What the farmer has gained is a more stable source of income, at the price
of becoming an operative in an assembly line. The change in the farmer's position from an independent producer,
selling in a market with many buyers, into a proletarian without options, is reflected in the nature of the
recommendation in the 1998 report of the National Commission on Small Farms, that
Congress should amend the AFPA [Agricultural Fair Practices Act] to provide the USDA with administrative enforcement
and civil penalty authority that will, in turn, enable growers to to organize associations and bargain collectively without fear
of discrimination or reprisal. (emphasis added)
The combination of biotechnological manipulation and contract farming also can have a catastrophic effect on
third world economies. Much of the import of agricultural products from the Third World consists in
qualitatively unique materials like coffee, flavorings, essences, and food oils with special properties. Moreover,
the production of these materials is at a low technological level with high labor inputs, in countries with unstable
political and economic regimes. As a result, the price and availability of, say, palm oil from the Philippines are
unstable. These characteristics make such agricultural products prime targets for gene transfer into domestic
species which will then be grown as specialty crops under contract to processors. Calgene has engineered a high
lauric acid canola (rape seed) strain for oils that are used for soaps, shampoos, cosmetics and food products that
formerly required imported palm oils. These special canola strains are now produced in the Midwest under
contract, displacing Philippine production on which a large fraction of the rural population depends
economically. And the genes for the biosynthesis of caffeine have been successfully transferred to soybeans. If
the essential oil genes for coffee flavor can also be transferred, then Central and South America and Africa will
lose their market for beans destined for powdered coffee.
It would be a mistake to think that agriculture has followed the classical picture of the spread of capitalism.
Unlike in industrial production, the first step in the capture of agriculture by capital was the immense flowering
of input industries and output processors, who appropriated the surplus in agriculture by selling the petty
entrepreneurial farmer what he needed, and buying what he produced. No parallel exists in the industrial sphere.
It is only with the saturation of that possibility of appropriation that wholly new techniques have come into play.
By concentrating on the central material link in farm production, the living organism, which at the same time
was the most resistant to capitalization, biotechnology has accomplished two steps in the penetration of capital.
First it widened the sphere of input commodity production by including a wide array of organisms that had
previously escaped. Second, and more profound, it is making vertical integration possible with the
accompanying proletarianization of the farmer. It is this second stage that is the capitalist agriculture of the
future, because the physical nature of farm production, inevitably tied to the land, is such as to maintain its
unique organization as a productive process.
Chapter Six
In the contemporary global agrifood system, the emergence of a plethora of new agricultural biotechnologies has
radically merged questions of design at the molecular level with those of agricultural change, posing a series of
far-reaching social, technical, and ethical consequences and contradictions. With more possible technological
paths than ever before, the new biotechnologies have made technology choice central in the discourse over the
future of agriculture. Implicit in the making of such choices is a redesigning of nature that could profoundly
transform the agrifood system, ecosystems, and the social organization of agriculture. Indeed, global food
production and consumption currently stand on the brink of a radical alteration in organizational form which
conceivably could surpass the redistributional outcomes of twentieth century industrialization of farming,
agriculture, and the food system.
Humans have for millennia been actively modifying nature to provide their sustenance. However, never before
have the tools been available to redesign nature with the precision and speed that the new agricultural
biotechnologies permit. For example, recombinant DNA techniques for conferring insect resistance in crops are
both more precise and much faster than conventional plant breeding techniques, which require trial and error
through many generations of plants. Similarly, DNA probes have been developed to allow for the identification
of certain traits in animals, without going through the lengthy process of waiting for the offspring to be born.
This will allow researchers to select out undesirable traits and add or enhance desired livestock traits with more
speed and precision.
The new biotechnologies also allow the rapid movement of diverse genetic materials across previously
insurmountable biological, chemical, and physical barriers to create microorganisms, plants, and animals in a
manner desired and designed by humans and their organizations. In essence, genetic material can now be
exchanged among virtually all living organisms. This makes all of the world's genetic diversity into raw material
to be used in research and development. Expanded claims to intellectual property rights for genetic resources are
privatizing what was once public. Likewise, in a global agrifood system the implications of the new
biotechnologies are no longer limited by geography. The ability to produce cocoa or vanilla in a laboratory using
cell culture techniques, for instance, could virtually decouple the manufacture of these foods from land-based
production systems, bringing economic collapse for populations in developing countries.
This compression of time and space raises difficult issues about directing biotechnology policy. Much of the
research and development (R&D) in this area is being carried out in the private sector with little public input or
oversight. Companies are striving to develop novel biotechnology products as quickly as possible, while
simultaneously lobbying to reduce as much as possible the public regulatory processes. They hope this will get
their products to market ahead of those of competitors. This greatly reduces the opportunities for participation of
those with concerns about the direction of biotechnology research and development.
Moreover, the discourse surrounding emerging biotechnologies is often inadequate, in part because of the
shortcomings of current thinking concerning the separation of science and politics. It is time to move beyond
these limitations by questioning the very boundaries between science and politics. First, let us review some of
the current developments in agricultural biotechnology and their social, technical, and ethical consequences and
The biotechnology industry declares itself to be one of the "cornerstone industries of America's future economic
growth," and promises new agricultural technologies that will feed the world. In contrast, some critics warn that
the primary fruits of agricultural biotechnology will be "Frankenfoods" and environmental havoc, spawned by
technologies over which we will surely lose control. Thus far the developments in the field support neither of
these claims. Rather, the story is much more complex. What is clear is that agricultural biotechnology, and the
debates surrounding it, will be with us for the foreseeable future.
Biological research in agriculture was traditionally in the public domain. However, most investment in biological
research in agriculture is now being done by the private sector. Some analysts predict biotechnology crops will
be worth $7 billion by 2005. Thus, it is not surprising that industry leaders are betting heavily on agricultural
biotechnologys commercial success, and industry is dominating the resource agenda.
Before turning to a discussion of specific technologies and their implications, there are two general issues
applicable to all agricultural biotechnologies which should be addressed. First, biotechnologies can increase
market concentration internationally. As with other products in a capitalist market, biotechnology developers
rely on being the first to get their product to market so as to capture the largest market share. Thus, only
countries in the forefront of biotechnology development are likely to reap the gains of research and development
investment. Also, due to the increasing complexity of intellectual property rights on life forms, many companies
avoid lawsuits by swapping patented material. Hence, companies that do not have many patents or are not
connected into this network may be blocked from entering the market. Furthermore, the agricultural
biotechnology industry is located in Western industrialized countries. Only about ten developing countries have
biotechnology programs. This will only exacerbate the inequalities which currently exist between developed and
developing countries.
Second, advocates of biotechnology focus on increasing productivity without questioning its distributional
consequences. Typically, the argument that biotechnology will help feed the world is couched in humanitarian
rhetoric and presented as the justification for biotechnology development. Advocates often use the (promised)
results as a means to justify and legitimate the investment in R&D. These arguments, however, ignore the
multiple dimensions of food security. Biotechnology addresses the amount and quality of food available, but it
does not deal with issues of access and distribution. Indeed, given its potential to displace large numbers of
people and to deny them access to the means of subsistence, biotechnology could in some instances actually be
detrimental to helping the world feed itself. Let us turn now to specific examples of plant, food, and animal
biotechnologies and their implications.
The list of new biotechnologies on the market has grown extensively in the past few years (see Table 1). In plant
biotechnology, herbicide resistant crops (HRCs) are one example of commercial developments. HRCs allow
herbicide application after the crop has emerged from the soil, extending the period in which the chemical may
be used. Expectations are that by 2000 the annual value of herbicide tolerant seed will be about $2.1 billion.
With the top four chemical companies controlling 53 percent of the market, it is not surprising that 30 to 50
percent of industry R&D spending is presently going towards HRCs.
In 1997, an estimated eight to ten million acres of Monsanto's herbicide-tolerant (Roundup Ready) soybeans
were planted - roughly 15 percent of the total soybean acreage in the United States. Their transgenic soybean
(with inserted genes from other organisms) is resistant to the company's leading herbicide, Roundup, the largest
selling weed killer in the world. Farmers who use the seed must sign a contract requiring them to use only
Roundup and allowing Monsanto to inspect their fields at any time. Currently, Roundup accounts for 17 percent
of Monsanto's total annual sales. For Monsanto, HRCs like Roundup Ready soybeans represent an opportunity
for the company to increase its overall share of the agricultural inputs market by introducing genetically
engineered seed that is tied to the use of their herbicides.
Today, all major seed companies have been bought or are tied to chemical companies. The consolidation of the
chemical and seed industries has allowed a few companies to gain a large share of the agricultural inputs market.
Concentration in the industry has generated considerable criticism of the control which agribusiness is gaining
over the agrifood system. The concern here is that, as the market is increasingly dominated by fewer input
suppliers, the choices that farmers have before them will become more restricted. A few products will be heavily
pushed as the industry standard. This can promote a narrower genetic base for agriculture, as well as restrict the
types of farm enterprises and the range of choices available to farmers.
The commercialization of HRCs raises other long-term environmental issues as well. Some studies have shown
that herbicide tolerance engineered into crop plants can spread quite easily into weedy relatives of the crop.
Thus, widespread use of HRCs could lead to hardier weeds. Of course, these consequences are shared by
everyone; they are not only experienced by direct users of the technology.
The most recent plant biotechnology to create international controversy is the "Terminator technology." Codeveloped by the USDA and seed company Delta and Pine Land, the Terminator technology encodes within
each seed's DNA a gene that kills its own embryos, thereby sterilizing the seed and forcing growers to return to
seed companies on a yearly basis to purchase new seeds. Grassroots organizations, particularly groups in parts of
the world that struggle with food security, have vehemently opposed this technology. As one foundation research
director explains, "engineering seed sterility is a logical goal for the multinational seed industry because around
three-quarters of the world's farmers routinely save seed from their harvest for re-planting.
While users of hybrid seed have long faced this same issue (i.e., having to return to seed companies annually),
the Terminator technology is different in two fundamental ways. First, hybrids have only been successful with a
few crops. In principle, all crops could be modified with the Terninator gene. In fact, if the gene works as
expected, it will likely be licensed widely to seed companies, making it difficult for farmers to buy seed that does
not contain the gene. Thus, farmers might well find that they have no choice in the matter.
Second, hybrids are relatively easy to produce by conventional breeding, so although the market is concentrated,
there are many companies in the market. The Terminator technology could eventually allow a few chemical/seed
companies to control all crop seeds worldwide. The serious inherent risk is the assumption of permanently stable
institutions. If used on a large scale, it will make farmers fully dependent on seed companies for seed. If the seed
is unavailable due to war, civil disturbance, natural disaster, etc. then farmers will suddenly discover that they
have no seed to plant. This would obviously be catastrophic.
Another group of plant biotechnologies currently in use is identity preserved (IP) crops, which have been
engineered with specific altered traits, such as tomatoes with delayed ripening, as in the case of the Flavr Savr
tomatoes, or canola with high lauric acid (an ingredient in cosmetics), such as Calgene's Laurical. IP crops are a
way of adding value to a crop because the altered trait commands a premium in the market. Yet, for the
developers to maximize profits they must maintain ownership or control of the product from seed to market. This
encourages, and is certain to promote, contract farming. Contract farming has some advantages for farmers. For
instance, farmers may not have to incur a large debt to finance the crop under contract. However, farmers
entering contracts also lose autonomy as they no longer are permitted to make basic production and marketing
decisions. Moreover, contract farming may also continue the shift toward larger and fewer farms, because the
contracting company will face increased transaction costs as the number of contracts into which it enters
increases. For example, if Calgene wishes to contract out 1,000 thousand hectares of its anti-sense tomato, it
would likely seek out a larger, more capitalized producer for the full 1,000 hectares, rather than enter into ten
contracts at 100 hectares each.
Many food biotechnologies have been developed with little public awareness or discussion. In part this is due to
the fact that most consumers know very little about research and development in food processing. For example,
scientists have produced chymosin, an enzyme used in cheese making, from genetically engineered organisms.
The first commercial product, a recombinant chymosin called Chymogen, can be found in approximately 60
percent of all hard cheeses in the United States. Yet, most people in the United States have never heard of this
genetically engineered enzyme.
Food biotechnology also includes the use of enzymes in fermentation, as well as in starch processing. Today, the
value of the world fermentation market is estimated at between $20 and $40 billion annually, while the market
for starch enzymes is approximately $200 million annually. One of the first products made with starch enzymes
was High Fructose Corn Syrup (HFCS). HFCS is produced by using biotechnologically produced enzymes to
convert corn into sweeteners. Corn converted into a sweetener by this method has attained widespread use in
major food products such as soft drinks. Other products not yet commercialized include vanilla and cocoa
produced in vitro (by cells grown in a large vat). In principle, any commodity that is consumed in a highly
processed, undifferentiated form could be produced using these techniques. The result would be large batches of
the commodity that are completely aseptic and require far less processing.
If successfully commercialized, in vitro biotechnologies - also called "cell culture" techniques - will have an
impact well beyond merely the technical aspects of their development. These technologies permit the global
displacement of markets. Market displacement has always occurred due to product substitution, but
biotechnology accelerates the process and leaves developing countries' populations in a precarious position. For
instance, when HFCS attained widespread use it captured a large share of the cane sugar market from developing
countries, threatening the livelihoods of an estimated eight to ten million people in the South. Presently, vanilla
and cocoa are still cheaper to import than to produce in factories. But if such factory production can be done
economically, people who depend on the export of these crops for their livelihood may see a significant loss of
market share.
Unlike food biotechnologies, animal biotechnologies have created significant controversy. The fact that animals
are sentient beings creates very different issues for biotechnology development. The issues are further
complicated because the information about animal biotechnology R&D is not readily available. Almost all
research on animal biotechnologies is funded by private industry. Furthermore, due to the controversy over the
use of animals, much research is undisclosed. Often, only after research is completed do the results become
public knowledge. Dolly, the lamb cloned in 1997, is a prime example of both the secrecy surrounding the
industry and the controversy which animal biotechnology creates.
Early animal biotechnologies involved reproduction, particularly the ability to select certain desired livestock
characteristics. Recent research has shifted towards 1) increasing the milk production of cows (e.g., bovine
growth hormone), 2) improving or changing meat characteristics (e.g., porcine growth hormone), and 3) using
animals to produce pharmaceuticals. Pharmaceutical manufacturing, also called "transgenie pharming," is the
leading area of transgenie animal R&D investment. If successful, transgenie "pharming" will allow
pharmaceutical companies to use an animal much like they would a laboratory. The animal would be engineered
to produce a desired compound that would then be sold to treat various ailments. A partial list of transgenie
animals that have successfully produced a desired drug or drug ingredient includes pigs that produce human
hemoglobin; sheep that produce an amino acid lacking in some humans; and rabbits that produce an enzyme
lacking in people with Pompe's disease, a genetic disorder. The intention is eventually to commercialize these
In addition to the issues noted above, certain concerns are specific to animal biotechnologies. Is it appropriate to
treat animals as mere factories for human drugs? Will such animals suffer from their own health problems?
Should we treat the patenting of animals in the same manner as we treat the patenting of a drug produced in a
lab? Also, how will pharming affect the current structure of agriculture? These questions have received little
public discussion.
The plant, food, and animal technologies discussed above and listed in Table 1 are merely the tip of the iceberg.
There are many technologies still a few years from the market that will eventually reach commercialization.
These include transgenic fish, such as salmon, tilapia, and catfish, which are being engineered for industrial
aquaculture production. Also, there are many more developments in pharming in both plants and transgenic
animals. This makes it even more urgent that society begin to grapple with how and who will decide what
direction biotechnology takes.
Despite the best efforts of advocates to portray biotechnology as the logical, inevitable direction of agricultural
research and development, in reality it is a series of choices, each with associated consequences. The
consequences of of developing the new technology under the direction of corporations are substantial and extend
throughout the global agrifood system. Thus, everyone is a participant in a global experiment with this new set
of technology, that promises to create new winners and losers around the world, yet only a ew have access to
decision-making process. Discussions of critical social, technical, and ethical aspects of these technologies are
currently suppressed by the view that science and technology are beyond the boundaries of conventional political
discourse. The new biotechnologies are potentially beneficial to society, but not unless the institutional bases for
technology choice are democratized. These technical and political dimensions can no longer remain separate if a
socially just biotechnology is to emerge.
The rhetoric of neutrality embedded in the science of biotechnology masks a series of social contradictions.
When closely examined, technical choices are simultaneously political choices not necessarily congruent with
the fuller aspirations of a free, democratic society. The current developments in biotechnology reflect a decisionmaking process in which commercial interests override societal and environmental concerns. This fundamental
contradiction is at the heart of the politics of the new agricultural biotechnologies.
Biotechnology is one valid and reliable way of knowing, representing, and manipulating nature. In principle,
there is nothing inherently harmful about this new set of tools. However, within industrial capitalism,
biotechnology is tied to private profit, short-term control over nature, and neglect of short- and long-term social
and environmental consequences. In part, this is reinforced by our society's faith in technological progress as the
sole means to resolve human problems. At the same time, the institutional basis of industrial capitalism
reinforces an increasingly illegitimate distinction between the political and technical. The legacy of this
distinction can be traced back to the industrialization of agriculture and the industrialization of society.
In many respects, the production-oriented arguments utilized by biotechnology advocates echo previous
sentiments exhibited in the post-Second World War era development of industrial agriculture that produced the
"green revolution." The green revolution focused on rapid production gains as a singular means to solve world
food problems while stemming red revolutions. Indeed, the application of new technological packages,
corresponding infrastructure development, and the growth of export markets are all legacies of the green
revolution. This approach did lead to significant production gains. However, the contradictions arising from
these developments also led to or exacerbated social, political, and economic inequalities within localities,
nation-states, and regions of the developing and developed world. Moreover, the degradation of tropical
agricultural resources has led to negative long-term environmental consequences resulting in profound
ecosystem alteration, and in some cases the near extirpation of food production bases. The green revolution
provides an important lesson with respect to the application of the new agricultural biotechnologies: the ideology
of inevitable technological progress excludes consideration of the distributional and environmental consequences
of such efforts.
Marx was ambivalent about technological choice. On the one hand, he envisioned that new technologies could
help achieve human emancipation and lead to a society of abundant production and consumption. On the other
hand, Marx realized that technologies could also create monotonous routine and drudgery that would alienate
and demean those who used them. He foresaw the social conditions of industrial capitalism which currently
relate to how the new agricultural biotechnologies have emerged and are taking shape. However, there is nothing
which necessitates this outcome.
Perhaps one of the primary sources of legitimacy for biotechnology is its connection to scientific objectivity-an
association frequently highlighted by advocates in an effort to immunize their endeavors politically by
attempting to draw a clear distinction between the scientific and the political. It is these very sources of
legitimacy that require scrutiny. Acting on behalf of a "concerned public," proponents appeal to scientific
objectivity to advance arguments for the best possible outcomes regarding support for new agricultural
biotechnologies. This is not to say that biotechnology is not based on valid and even well intentioned science.
What is problematic, however, is that early decisions abour the direction of biotechnology become invisible after
research is completed and technologies are produced. When choosing problems, scientists have a range of
possibilities before them. For example, they could work on developing crops that more effectively shade out
weeds, or intercropping and rotation systems for better weed control, or they could genetically modify plants to
be resistant to herbicides.
Yet, after the direction of research and development has already been decided, the initial alternatives tend to
disappear as scientists often portray the chosen path as the only viable one. The chosen path then becomes,
according to scientists, the only "accepted" objective view of the world. Hence, a narrow objectivity prevails in
which a few scientists and corporate executives make early choices (i.e., when there are a number of viable
alternatiye choices) about the direction of research and development, and then later define the chosen path as the
standard measure for objectivity. They do so even as research is supported by corporations that have an obvious
vested interest. This weaker form of objectiviry can only be enhanced by increasing the number of perspectivesand the legitimate representation of those perspectives in decision making-that are induded in making the initial
The conventional stripping away of the social context of science facilitates the mystification of biotechnology.
But, science and technology are political developments, with real constituencies and real social consequences.
Democratizing science and technology policy is a necessary part of the process of addressing these
contradictions. This requires developing new institutional mechanisms to promote the participation of those
affected by new technologies. As a first step, the very definition of science and technology needs to be
broadened to include activities that go on outside the laboratory, but that are fundamental to the scientific
enterprise. Public and private funding agencies, instrument manufacturers, biotechnology firms and general farm
and commodity organizations, among others, must all be recognized as essential social agents in science and
technology development. Only when these intertwined components of science and technology are addressed can
we speak of objective, socially responsible and ethically informed decision-making.
Increasing corporate control of the biotechnology R&D agenda raises a host of problems, not the least of which
is a lack of public access to decision making in this arena. While opening the technology policy process to broad
participation comes up against considerable structural constraints, a democratization of science and technology
should not be seen simply as a utopian illusion. People normally think of democracy as limited to the political
process and party politics. However, there have been notable attempts to extend democracy to technology
choice. Several countries have made notable progress in this direction. While such efforts in the United States
have received very limited support, in Western Europe institutional innovations aimed at a more inclusive
technology policy process are being developed. These initiatives should by no means be considered a panacea
for dealing with technology development, but they are one approach to challenging corporate and state
hegemony over technology choice.
For example, for more than a decade the Danish Board of Technology has been running consensus conferences
that have provided a forum in which ordinary citizens with diverse backgrounds are involved in technology
assessment. The results of these dialogues between citizens and a panel of experts are widely disseminated in the
media, and often acted on by legislative bodies. The DBT has held conferences on industrial and agricultural
biotechnology (1987), irradiation of food products (1989), and genetically manipulated animals (1992), thus
facilitating debates in these areas. It appears that this model of public discussion and involvement is now being
more widely adopted in Europe.
Initial attempts at ascertaining how citizens could become more involved in the technically complex areas of
technology policy are beginning to appear in the United States as well. In 1997 the Loka Institute, along with a
number of other institutions, organized a pilot citizens' panel based on the consensus conference model. This
particular panel dealt with issues arising from changes in telecommunications technologies and policy
(especially relating to the Internet). Judging from the conference reports, the panel demonstrated that lay citizens
are capable of meaningful participation in complex technical and public policy issues. Both this approach and the
work of the Danish Board of Technology warrant further exploration.
These are just a few examples of ways to subject biotechnological change to greater public scrutiny through
democratic involvement. It is useful to consider some of their shared principles. In all cases, the relationship
between social priorities and technology choices is made explicit. A key principle of these efforts is that society
must democratically define its priorities; only then should it ask how technologies might help to achieve those
goals. This challenges the common assumption in science policy of a positive, linear relationship between
scientific advance and social progress. Another guiding principle is that since all citizens experience the effects
of science and technology, and since citizens ordinarily expect to have a voice in decisions that will affect the
way they live their daily lives, they should be involved in deciding the direction of science and technology
These approaches also begin with the assumption that science and technology policymaking is an inherently
political process, and that any constructive dialogue will necessarily bring together actors with divergent goals
and values that often contradict each other. In the debates over biotechnology some might argue for values such
as profitability or freedom from excessive regulation, while others might argue for safety, environmental
soundness, or equity. There is no one decision rule with which to rank these competing values in a simple
hierarchy. Rather, decisions must be accomplished through a process of debate, negotiation and compromise in
which all stakeholders have a voice.
In the United States, we have typically relieved ourselves from responsibility for the consequences of technical
change by attributing them to the inevitable effects of technological advance combined with market forces. In
this view, if undesirable consequences should result from technical change, not only can we develop new
technical fxes, but also new products and additional economic activiry. Yet, as the examples above suggest, it is
not necessary to actually employ new technologies in order to determine their consequences. Such an approach
leads to the never-ending search for technological fxes, even as it tears at the social fabric. Indeed, many of the
negative consequences could be avoided if initial science and technology choices were made with better
consideration of social priorities. We currently do not have these kinds of mechanisms in place-technical change
has by far out-paced institutional innovation-but we do have the capacity in universities, non-governmental
organizations, companies, and in our citizenry to direct science and technology in more democratic and socially
desirable directions.
Chapter Seven
food. It primarily serves the interests of the corporate sector and a global minority of 600 millon affluent
consumers primarily concentrated in the triadic core of world economy (Western Europe, North America and
But the historical relations of production and consumption of food on a world scale have always been organized
geopolitically. The following brief historical sketch of the geo-politics of food also interprets the process by
which the U.S. has assumed a global breadbasket of the world strategy and sought to institutionalize its
corporate food power via the current free trade regime.
Much of our political-economic understanding of global power relations is anchored in a binary view of the
world. In word-capitalist history, the metropolitan or European, world is seen as specializing in industry, while
the "peripheral," or non-European world, specializes in raw materials and food production. Development came to
be understood as the process of overcoming this division; agriculture was viewed as a specialization to be
The concept of the international division of labor reinforced the urbanindustrial bias of the development
paradigm, with agriculture cast as the residual. Moreover, it has obscured the parallel story of the politics of
agribusiness in reshaping global political economy and power relations. One reason for this is that the history of
development involves two divergent, and yet connected, historical threads that have been blended together in
idealist constructions of "development." These two threads are the global movements of British and U.S.
hegemony. each of which modeled two distinct forms of development. Let me address each in turn.
The former hegemony involved dividing the world along the classic lines of the international division of labor,
expressed in the British slogan of "workshop of the world." British specialization depended on access to
agricultural exports from tropical colonies and New World temperate regions (including the future American
"breadbasket"). Indeed world capitalism emerged on the pedestal of colonial agricultures. where large-scale
slave plantations prefigured the rise of the factory system. Not only did slavery anticipate proletarianization, but
also the colonial system generated much of the early capital nurturing the rise of modern industry. More
fundarnentally, capitalist forms of production (and consumption) frst emerged in agriculture, and the global
food trade was, and remains, central to the organization of capitalism on a world scale.
In the nineteenth-century, Britain abandoned its Com Laws (domestic farm protections) and imported its
foodstuffs. The strategy was to fashion a global marketplace based on an international division of labor pivoting
on a British "workshop of the world." This attempt to subdivide the world into a metropolitan industrial
workshop and a peripheral agricultural hinterland was central to the political economy of the colonial system.
Under Britain's "free trade" regime, rival European states and their investers consolidated their control over nonEuropean regions, forcing them to specialize in export agriculture and extractive industry to supply the industrial
world with dietary and raw material inputs (from sugar and meat to cotton and rubber).
Over the course of the nineteenth century the composition of agro-exports from the non-European world
changed, as industrial commodities displaced luxuries such as silks and spices. The new agro-industrial and other
raw material commodities entering world trade were for consumption by Europe's emerging industrial proletariat
(sugar, coffee, tea. cocoa. vegetable oils) and expanding factories (cotton, timber, rubber and jute). As this
European/tropical interrelationship deepened, another partern of trade with the ex-colonial settler stales (U.S.A.,
Australia, New Zealand. Canada) emerged which would transform the shape of world agriculture in the twentieth
century. Exports of temperate products (grains. meat) from these regions supplemented, and then competed with,
metropolitan agriculture, bocoming the staple diets of European labor forces.
In the twentieth century, the U.S. projected an alternative model of development based on the national
integration of manufacturing and agricultural sectors, and on capital- and energy-intensive technological change.
Whereas the British model was viewed as "outer directed," the U.S. model was viewed as "inner directed."
However, obscured in this latter model is the powerful role of agribusiness and food power in the U.S.-centered
global political economy of the twentieth century. In the late-nineteenth century, white settler farming (typified
by family farming in the United States) formed the new agricultural core of the world economy, fueling
industrialization in Europe as well as in the settler states. With the relatively low frontier person-to-land ratio,
this strategic "breadbasket" role generated a highly productive energy- and capital-intensive agriculture. In fact,
this form of industrial agriculture became the model for agricultural development in the twentieth century, first
in Europe and then in the post-colonial world.
The intensive agricultural model is significant because it required continual external inputs, provided through the
market-whether technological inputs such as oil, inorganic fertilizers, hybrid seeds, machinery, and pesticides, or
specialty agricultural outputs such as corn and soy feeds for the new intensive meat sub-sector, for example. On
a national scale, the model integrated industry and agriculture, fueling post-Second World War prosperity within
the terms of the Bretton Woods monetary regime (whose fixed exchange rates and controls on capital flows
stabilized national economies). Meanwhile, on the transnational scale, large agribusiness corporations began
coordinating exchanges of these inputs across national boundaries. Many of these exchanges originated in the
postwar settlements in Europe and East Asia, whose reconstruction depended on U.S. trade and export credits.
The Japanese livestock sector, for example, came to depend on feedstuffs such as imported corn from the United
States and soy from Brazil. In other words, agro-industrial complexes (where agriculture is subjected to, and
integrated with, industrial processes) were simultaneously nationally organized and internationally sourced.
In the meantime, agro-industrialization intensified the global division of labor associated with colonialism.
While industrial uses of rubber, fibers and some vegetable oils (for soap, lubricants and paint) had expanded
since the late-nineteenth century, in the mid-twentieth century, diets of processed foods expanded dramatically,
deepening the demand for certain tropical products such as vegetable oils and sugar. Such tropical exports
underwrote post-colonial development projects, for a time. However, the strategic role of some tropical exports
became increasingly precarious as agribusiness technologies matured. Following the metropolitan substitution of
rubber and fibers, the search for substitutes for some tropical food produts began as the agribusiness complex
matured and corporations sought to use by-products of metropolitan agriculture such as corn syrup, soy oils as
alternatives to sugar and tropical oils. These by-products became integral to the food processing industry.
Agro-industrialization thus eroded some of the agricultures fostered by colonialism, upon which Southern states
came to depend for export earnings. In other words, the technologies and political power of the Northern agroindustrial complex have significantly shaped the structure of the global food economy. I shall now review briefly
the political role of the U.S. agro-industrial complex in this process.
The U.S. agro-industrial complex stemmed from adjustments made during the interwar period in response to the
Great Depression, which was particularly severe in agriculture. In 1935 the Agricultural Adjustment Act was
amended to allow the Secretary of Agriculture to bar agricultural imports to protect the USDA price-support
program, which set domestic prices above world market prices. Ironically, this neo-mercantilist policy of import
controls eventually produced an agro-export program of global significance. Farm supports led American
farmers to overproduce, and the U.S. government disposed of these agricultural surpluses overseas via the Public
Law 480 program of cheap foreign food aid. It was within the context of this food regime disbursing food at
concessional - and later, commercial - prices that the huge grain traders, such as Cargill and Continental,
prospered. They had traditionally marketed grains produced by American family farms, and had gained a captive
market through the subsidized exports of the post-Second World War food aid program.
In addition to cheap foodstuffs, U.S. exports of agribusiness technologies flourished through the facility of U.S.
foreign aid programs, including the Marshall Plan and the green revolution, which targeted select third world
regions. These two particular programs spawned modernizing agricultural sectors replicating the capital- and
energy-intensive model of American agriculture, from Europe through Japan to Mexico. In South Korea, four
local firms formed joint ventures with U.S. agribusiness firms (including Ralston-Purina and Cargill) to
introduce technical and marketing expertise to that country's food system. The 1972 Public Law 480 annual
report approvingly concluded that "these firms were instrumental in accelerating the introduction of U.S.
technology and were a major factor in the rapid expansion of ... the increase in Korea's imports of U.S. corn,
soybean meal, breeding stock and other supplies and equipment."
This report illustrates how the U.S. agricultural model, including its specialized character, shaped the Korean
livestock industry, which increasingly depended on foreign feedstuffs producers (in the United States, Brazil,
and Thailand). That is, agribusiness corporations not only had new domestic markets within which to sell their
technologies, but they also integrated global commodity chains linking specialized agricultural subsectors across
national boundaries.
The progression from multinational markets to transnational complexes, as realms of corporate profiteering, did
not derive from agribusiness specialization alone. It also grew out of geo-economic arrangements as global
capitalism changed gears in the 1970s. This relatively stable organization of nationally regulated economies,
with fixed exchange rates pegged to the dollar, gave way to an increasingly unstable organization of increasingly
transnational economic relations governed by floating exchange rates, offshore money markets, and financial
speculation (in other words by "financial globalization"). As national controls on capital movements eased,
transnational corporate activity expanded, and development agencies like the World Bank identified exporting to
the global market as the preferred strategy for states and firms.
Interestingly enough, the U.S. government in the early 1970s adopted a "green power" agro-export strategy to
solve its growing imbalance of payments associated with the rising costs of empire (emanating in particular from
the Vietnam War). Until the 1970s, U.S. farm policy focused on stabilizing the national farm sector, with exports
and food aid as a by-product of the domestic management of surpluses. The 1973 Farm Bill, which removed
production constraints on American farmers and encouraged commercial exports, was not simply a formal
change in the mechanism of disposal of farm surpluses - it fundamentally altered the relation of American
agriculture to the world economy.
From the early 1970s, U.S. agriculture displayed a new export dependency, in which the production of more than
one acre in three consisted of low-value primary products (wheat, corn, and soybeans) destined for the export
market. The green power strategy destabilized family farming throughout the world, and intensified export
production and dependence on foreign markets, especially in the middle-income regions of the Third World,
China, the Soviet Union, and Eastern Europe. Meanwhile, Western Europe, whose farm policies both mirrored
those of the United States and led to similar overproduction problems, was itself becoming a major exporter of
In the 1950s the Third World had accounted for about 10 percent of all wheat imports, but this proportion
increased to 57 percent by 1980. A significant part of this food dependency arose from the United States' food
aid program, which encouraged Western dietary habits on the one hand, and undercut local farmers' prices on the
other. The food-dependent South became the site of intensified trade rivalry between the EC and the United
States. This competition for markets, and the growing role of the transnational corporations in the global food
economy, provided the context for GATT talks in the 1980s focusing on the liberalization of agriculture and
trade in agricultural commodities.
The Uruguay Round's focus on agricultural liberalization broke new ground for GATT. As suggested in the case
of the Philippines, liberalization is by no means a neutral matter of installing a 'level playing field' in the global
food economy. At the outset, liberalization embodied both a free trade demand by the Cairns Group of agroexporting nations, and a mercantilist, "breadbasket of the world" strategy pursued by the United States.
Interestingly, in the previous GATT Rounds, agriculture was always an exception to the liberalization of trade
rules, at U.S. insistence. In 1955, agricultural trade was excluded from consideration in GATT codes, thus
protecting U.S. farm supply policies from import competition. Since the mid-1980s, however, the United States
has reversed this position, intending to deploy GATT against agricultural protection. Arguably, the immediate
target is the European Common Agricultural Policy (CAP) of subsidizing cheap farm exports to enter markets
once dominated by U.S. agricultural exports. Given the dependence of American agriculture on export markets,
such rivalry has considerable domestic impact, on debt-stressed farmers and corporate exporters.
The American strategy evolved within this context: from a "green power" initiative in the world market in the
1970s, to a broader institutional initiative in the 1980s to enforce market power through a GATI' free trade
regime. Behind this liberalization initiative was the considerable restructuring, or economic polarization, of the
farm constituency. The farm crisis of the 1980s ultimately favored the large producer and the food companies.
By 1994, 50 percent of U.S. farm products came from 2 percent of the farms, while only 9 percent came from 73
percent of the farms. In the same year, 80 percent of U.S. beef was slaughtered by three packers: Iowa Beef
Packers (IBP), ConAgra, and Cargill.
The shift in farm credit delivery, from predominantly state-supplied credit in the 1970s to the Reagan policy of
replacing Farmer's Home Administration loans with state-guaranteed private loans, marked an important change
in farm policy. Not only did rural welfare policies shift towards socializing the cost of private expansion, this
new policy climate also signaled the empowerment of private banks as suppliers of agricultural credit. The banks
simultaneously benefited from U.S. monetarist policies which inflated the dollar; the inflated dollar opened the
door for Southern agro-exporting, and thereby facilitated a strategy of debt-repayment to the banks, but it did so
at the expense of American agro-exports.
In response to rising farm prices after the mid-1980s farm crisis eased, the newly-established Export
Enhancement Program (EEP) subsidized agro-exports, particularly those competing with EC exporters. The U.S.
sent the message: either "initiate policy reforms in accordance with U.S. priorities, or the U.S. would use the
EEP to subsidize exports to recapture world market shares for wheat, feed grains, and selected livestock products
in direct competition with the Community." To that end, EEP commodities have targeted markets in the Soviet
Union, China, North Africa and the Middle East. The U.S. used the EEP as part of a negotiating strategy in the
GATT Uruguay Round to challenge competitors' subsidies and other "unfair" trade practices. By 1994, agroexports from the U.S. accounted for 36 percent of wheat trade worldwide; 64 percent of the corn, barley,
sorghum, and oats; 40 percent of the soybeans; 17 percent of the rice; and 33 percent of the cotton. However,
these trade challenges have not so much rewarded the United States (and other food exporting nations) as they
have strengthened the grip of the food companies, which benefit from the free trade movement - for example, 50
percent of U.S. grain exports in 1994 were shared by two companies: Cargill and Continental.
The current restructuring of world agriculture builds on a division within agriculture between low-value and
high-value products. Trade in low-value temperate cereals and oilseeds has been historically dominated by the
North, and trade in high-value products has fallen increasingly to corporate agro-exporters (or their contract
farmers) producing in the South - for example, Brazilian beef, Chinese and Hungarian pork, Southeast Asian
shrimp, Brazilian, Hungarian, and Thai poultry, and generalized fruit and vegetable exports across the South.
(Note that while some Southern countries - notably Argentina, Thailand, and Uruguay - are net food exporters,
the large majority are net food importers.) The growth of agro-export "platforms" is an unstable strategy,
signaling a more fundamental process at work: a widespread subordination of producing regions to global
production and consumption relations organized by transnational food companies.
Under these conditions, agriculture becomes less and less a foundational institution of societies and states, and
more and more a tenuous component of corporate global sourcing strategies. It increasingly anchors a system of
global profiteering in food products, a system in which food travels from farm gate to dinner plate an average of
2,000 miles. Further, the corporate strategy of incorporating regions into global production and consumption
relations simultaneously undermines the institutional bases of national farm sectors, in the North as well as the
Farm sectors have been so transformed that, for example, the U.S. government has even been considering
eliminating "farming" as a population census category. This occurs in a context where two percent of the farms
grow 50 percent of agricultural produce, the average family farm earns only 14 percent of its income from the
farm, and 95 percent of American food is manufactured and sold by corporations (e.g., Philip Morris, which
markets brand names such as Sungold Dairies, Lender's Bagels, Tombstone Pizza, and Kraft Cheese; and
ConAgra, which markets Healthy Choice meals and desserts, Peter Pan peanut butter, Orville Redenbacher
popcorn, Wesson oils, and Butterball, Armour, and Hebrew National meats). The food industry is in fact the
largest American industrial sector, even though it doesn't produce food security, as 30 million Americans do not
get enough to eat. And it is dominated by huge conglomerates which virtually monopolize sales - ConAgra, for
example, accounts for 25 percent of sales in foodstuffs, feed, and fertilizer; 53 percent of sales of refrigerated
foods; and 22 percent of grocery products.
Centralization in a few mega-food companies also puts them in a commanding position vis-a-vis producers. But
the corporate takeover is not simply a question of the economic viability of family farming programs. It is also
that these national farm-based institutions, which nurtured agribusiness by stabilizing national patterns of
consumption of farm commodities, have now become obstacles to the transnational strategy and structure of the
food companies. They are obstacles because domestic price supports, by raising prices of agro-industrial inputs,
disadvantage food processors and grain traders in the world market.
For the South, the TNC strategy continues the neocolonial project of undercutting local farmers with cheap food
imports on the one hand, and extending the green revolution strategy to produce new agro-exports on the other.
The latter strategy (the "second green revolution") applies crop breeding techniques and chemical inputs to crops
geared to affluent markets in the cities or overseas. Either way, the threat to local food security, leaving aside
potentially unhealthy dietary changes and the greater fragility of monoculture, is real. In Brazil, the world's third
largest food exporter and considered one of the "new agricultural countries," less than 1 percent of the
population owns about 54 percent of the fertile agricultural land, and 32 million people are officially considered
Transnational corporations stand to gain overall from a free trade regime, since it will enhance and reward
capital mobility and facilitate it by reducing institutionalized costs. Cargill, for instance, is one such corporation
that views the world as its oyster. The largest private company and the eleventh largest company in the world,
Cargill employs 70,700 people in 800 locations in sixty countries and over fifty different businesses - from
grains through beefpacking to fertilizer, peanuts, salt, coffee, transportation, steel, rubber and fruits and
Global firms and the agroexporting states (the Cairns Group) were key supporters of the GATT multilateral
approach to liberalization. In fact, the original U.S. proposal to the Uruguay Round was drafted by Cargill's
former senior vice president, also a former officer of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Cargill shares roughly
50 percent of U.S. grain exports with Continental. Food companies, grain traders, and the chemical industry all
generally favor using the WTO to phase out farm programs, eliminating supply management and driving down
prices by exposing U.S. farmers to worldwide differential labor and land costs. By reducing price supports, the
corporations maximize their ability to structure comparative advantages in the world market, sourcing their
inputs from the variety of producing regions incorporated into the "free" world market.
The big grain traders (in order of size: Cargill, Archer Daniels Midland [ADM], Continental, Louis Dreyfuss,
Bunge & Borne, Mitsui, and Feruzzi) have not only exerted their oligopolistic power in the world market to
structure supplies and control grain prices, but they have exerted advisory power in the GATT negotiations
regarding the content of the rules regarding agricultural liberalization. For example, the GATT agreement is now
used at their behest to challenge national agricultural supply management boards on the grounds that they
interfere with the free trade of agricultural products on the world market. This has been particularly effective in
Canada, where supply-management agencies emerged earlier during this century to protect farmers from
corporate food processors, only to be challenged by Cargill Canada. Companies like Cargill have supported the
North American Free Trade Agreement(NAFTA) and GATT to institutionalize a trade regime outlawing such
"distortions" to global markets, despite sustained national and international protests by farmer organizations.
The corporate assault on national regulatory policies is both a trading as well as a production strategy.
Companies are looking either to capture new markets through direct purchasing of crops and processed food, or
to organize agricultural production directly. New forms of mass marketing of commodities produced under
contract in multiple locations are emerging, especially in the global fruit and vegetable industry. The contractual
relation integrates growers into an essentially industrial enterprise, in which specific crop varieties are combined
with particular chemical inputs. The global coordination of multiple production sites, for a year-round supply of
fresh produce, is achieved through information technologies. In Chile, now the largest supplier of off-season
fruits and vegetables to Europe and North America, more than 50 percent of fruit exports are controlled by five
TNCs. Not only do these 'nontraditional' agro-exports reconfigure local agricultural landscapes, but also they
impact agricultural labor - roughly two-thirds of the Mexican and Chilean agricultural labor forces depend on
insecure, low-wage employment. Kevin Watkins reports that in Mexico, "workers on commercial farms are
generally paid piece rates, are not entitled even to minimal social welfare protection such as sickness and
maternity benefits and have no basic trade union rights" (Watking, op. Cit., p. 251).
Capture of new markets also depends on liberalization, and is often achieved by purchasing existing enterprises,
if only to capitalize on the brand name familiar to local populations. Thus, corporations from the United States
(Sara Lee/Douwe Egbert, Coca-Cola) and Europe (Nestle, Unilever, Feruzzi, and Montedison) have made
significant inroads into Hungary's food processing sector. Meanwhile the Thai-based Charoen Phokpand (CP)
has extended its feed, livestock, aquaculture, and fast food empire from Southeast Asia into China, where CP, as
the largest foreign agribusiness, aims to put a chicken in every wok.
Geopolitical relations figure in corporate market strategies too. Thus, firms like Nestle Brazil use Brazil as a base
from which to supply South America with biscuits. Meanwhile in Mexico, the food industry grew at an average
annual rate in excess of all manufacturing through the 1980s. Moreover, growth in food processing was
overwhelmingly concentrated in export production, growing faster than overall agricultural trade. Mexican
economic liberalization offers new opportunities for foreign investors, often in joint ventures with Mexican
capital, or with other foreign capital. An example is the Trasgo group, a vertically integrated poultry operation,
which combines Mexican, U.S., and Japanese capital and targets Japanese consumers. Del Monte, a vigorous
supporter of NAFTA, is currently experimenting with large scale commercial production of tomatoes via land
companies managing the ejido lands (communal lands formerly under the control of peasants).
Under increasingly liberalized conditions, companies from the United States (Bird's Eye, Green Giant, Pepsico,
General Foods, Kellogg's, Campbell's, Kraft), Japan (Mitsui, Mitsubishi, C. Itoh, Sumitomo), and Europe
(Unilever, Nestle) have increased their rate of investment in food production and processing operations in
Mexico, coinciding with changes in foreign investment regulations allowing 100 percent ownership. Presaging
the 1990s, the Mexican Foreign Secretary proclaimed, "Mexico is one of the newer trading powers of the world
that has helped to maintain the pace for bringing about an ambitious reform of the world trading system."
The endpoint of the Uruguay Round of GATT was the creation in 1994 of the World Trade Organization, in
order to institutionalize freedom of trade, enterprise, and property rights on a world scale. A WTO regime is not
just a device for promoting the global circulation of commodities. It is also a new supra-national political form.
It has a distinctive constitutional focus and enforcing rules regarding commodity circuits and national and subnational regulations. Arguably, it will operate as an enforcement mechanism of market rules for the globally
dominant states and corporations. Pressures to deregulate Northern farm sectors and to expand Southern agroexporting involve a universal challenge to national economic organization (and institutions) by transnational
firms. Global access by TNCs allows them to exploit the asymmetry between North and South, undercutting
Northern entitlement structures and their institutional supports by optimizing global sourcing strategies.
The WTO is not only an agent of trade liberalization. It is also a tribunal for enforcing corporate rights to
manage consumption. On the horizon is an intensification of agrochemical-corporate domination of world food
production by six conglomerates involved in genetically engineered food (Monsanto, Novartis, AgroEvo,
DuPont, Zeneca, and Dow). Their claim that there are now 30 million acres of genetically engineered crops
portends a controversial future. The companies argue that these new biotechnologies reduce the use of pesticides,
and promise an end to world hunger. Critics dispute these claims, also arguing that these technologies will
discriminate against small farmers, threaten public health, and narrow available food choices. In this context,
where agriculture broadly construed (farming, the farm input and processing industries, and so on) still
constitutes a large share of the global economy, it is not surprising to find lobbying to revise world food safety
standards in favor of genetically-engineered foods, as well as food disparagement laws gaining ground in the
U.S. (witness the recent suit against Oprah Winfrey by the cattlemen for her allegedly disparaging remarks about
hamburger), and global PR firms structuring debate in favor of genetic engineering. The WTO is being deployed
to challenge governments that oppose genetically engineered crops. For example, in September 1997 the WTO
ruled against the EU's ban on imported hormone-produced beef and on milk from cattle treated with one of
Monsanto's recombinant growth hormones, Posilac.
Behind the apparent multilateralism of the WTO stands the attempt to institutionalize rules of a neoliberal world
order to match (and deepen) the corporate-led economic integration underway. This requires a formal
codification of inter-state trade relations, much as we have seen occurring in the proliferation of regional free
trade agreements. Free trade agreements like NAFTA mirror the asymmetry of the WTO regime. For example,
quotas on duty-free U.S. corn, wheat, and rice imports into Mexico are being lowered in stages. In Mexico, 2.5
million households engage in rain-fed maize production, with production of two to three tons per hectare,
compared with 7.5 tons per hectare in the American Midwest. With an estimate of a 200 percent rise in corn
imports under NAFTA's full implementation by 2008, it is expected that more than two-thirds of Mexican corn
production will not survive the competition.
A more far-reaching, substantive power is anticipated in the negotiation over the terms of the WTO. In
particular, the current dispute over the reach of the WTO regarding investment concerns the institutionalization
of a global intellectual property regime. Through the TRIPS protocol, trade-related intellectual property rights of
foreign investors have been strengthened by the possibility of parenting a variety of products and processes.
Global corporations are empowered by this protocol, for example, to patent genetic materials such as seed
germplasm, potentially endangering the rights of farmers to replant seeds from their own harvests on the grounds
of patent infringement. This is an extraordinary form of expropriation of genetic resources originally developed
by peasants, forest dwellers, and local communities over centuries of cultural experimentation. Such biopiracy,
or gene theft, has become a focal point of grassroots resistance to the WTO regime. And resistance is likely to
quicken now that the so-called "terminator gene" has been jointly patented by the USDA, and Delta and Pine
Land, the world's largest cotton seed company. This gene can switch off plants' ability to reproduce, transferring
monopoly power to licensed seed and chemical companies by forcing farmers to purchase new seeds annually.
While the USDA views the terminator gene as a vehicle of market creation, for seed companies in the
"developing" world, where farmers save seed for the next year's planting, critics point out that this transgenic
technology threatens to eliminate plant breeding by millions of small farmers, seriously reducing food security.
The WTO is as yet only empowered to rule on investments that are "trade-related," through the trade-related
investment measures (TRIMS) protocol. However, the European Commission (backed by the United States and
Japan) has a draft proposal for a Multilateral Agreement on Investment (MAI) that would relax all restrictions on
foreign investment in any member state, grant the legal right for foreigners to invest and operate competitively in
all sectors of the economy, and grant TNCs the same rights as domestic firms in signatory states.
Although stalled by considerable national and international resistance in the spring of 1998, the MAI, if
implemented, would seek to render domestic regulations transparent to investors, and preclude restrictions on
capital transfer across national borders. It would also restrict the right of governments to use investment policy
towards social and environmental ends, or to impose performance requirements on foreign investment. The draft
code includes proposals to institutionalize rights of corporations (and financiers) as investors, with a legal status
equivalent to that of nation-states, except that governments are not granted rights to sue such investors for
damages on behalf of their citizens.
Agribusiness liberalization is deeply symbolic of the attempt to legitimize world-economic integration, precisely
because of agriculture's historic identification with place and nation. While greater integration transforms all
states through economic liberalization, it also reinforces global power relations - in this case the relations of
agribusiness imperialism. That is, what are presented as universal trade rules (to which states individually
commit) really serve to reinforce extant geo-political and corporate interests.
Trade and investment liberalization restructures member states by privileging global circuits of money and
commodities, and subordinating social policies to a global corporate regime that privileges efficiency over
equity. The formalization of a global corporate regime is anticipated in the WTO's system of rules, which would
use states as the vehicles of universal adherence to this regime at the expense of national political debate and
powers. This is not to say that governments do not regulate and manage, but they do so increasingly within the
framework of binding multilateral agreernents, many of which privilege transnational corporate actors rather
than national citizens and communities. When governments sign on to the WTO as member states, they agree to
a package of rules and regulations that increasingly remove trade and investment decisions, and their social
impacts, from citizen scrutiny and control. In effect, property rights displace citizen rights.
Within global agriculture, the institutionally driven process of liberalization undermines the ability of weaker,
food importing states to protect local farmers, and transforms food into a new frontier of commodification.
Global regulatory agencies like the WTO threaten to entrench (Northern) agribusiness power at the expense of
farmers across the world, to intensify the destabilization of rural communities, and to further compromise local
food security. How far this process will go remains unresolved, especially as citizens and workers and farmers
and peasants and indigenous movements are sensing that globalization is not so much a foregone conclusion as a
political project delivering highly selective benefits to small fractions of the world's population.
Chapter Eight
"You take my life
When you do take the means whereby I live."
Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1
forces as capitalism penetrates the periphery. To the degree that nation-states succeed in negotiating a level of
protection for their home markets and national agricultures from global competitive forces, dispossession of the
peasantry takes the form of a gradual rural differentiation within the home market context. This was the case, for
example, in the late nineteenth-century continental Europe. The very concept of national "rural differentiation"
in which agricultural populations undergo differentiation into capitalists and proletariansis a product of this
era. This notion of rural differentiation largely dominated peasant studies from the 1950s onward and remains
highly influential today.
By contrast, state policies that promote, to use Polanyi's words, the "mobilization of agricultural land," lead to
depeasantization through displacement. Rural depopulation as a result of massive active displacement of
peasants from the countryside to the city, and their proletarianization within the urban environment is the
consequence. Historical examples of depeasantization through displacement are enclosure movements in Tudor
and Elizabethan England, in continental Europe between 1850 and 1870, and, as I will argue here, the current
waves of rural dispossession in most of the Third World, beginning in the 1950s and accelerating since the 1980s
under the neoliberal trade regime.
In this paper I make two main arguments: First, global restructuring and market liberalization have increasingly
rendered obsolete the premises of late nineteenth and the early twentieth century notions of rural differentiation
(or the lack thereof) in a national context. The most relevant concept for the analysis of peasant dispossession
today is not national rural differentiation, but rather rural displacement on a world scale. Second, in the early
decades of this century the "peasant question" was a political question having to do with the role of the rural
masses in a democratic or socialist revolution. After the Second World War, the "peasant question" turned into a
concern with Third World "underdevelopment." The postwar debate on the peasant question and rural
differentiation inherited the early-twentieth-century national frame of reference, but it also applied the "lessons"
of the original debate to an altogether different purpose, that of Third World national development. To
understand the peasant question(s) of our times, we need to restore its earlier political-economic dimension. I
will discuss some of the implications of these points in the concluding part of this chapter.
By the early 1960s, the United States had developed its first programmatic solution to the "peasant question,"
which basically was Lenin's agrarian question turned on its head: How could the Third World peasantries be
"demobilized," and their movements be blinked from the urban nationalist movements? Borrowing from
America's own past, and drawing on the early postwar experience in Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan, the U.S.
solution was to promote as part of its overall strategy the creation of family-sized farm unitsthat is, petty
private ownershipwhich would, in Cold War rhetoric, "preserve the dignity of the individual" and ensure "the
future of democracy in the world." Thus, for example, between 1950 and 1980 the number of "family farms" in
Latin America, which averaged about two hectares each, increased by 92 percent. These reforms redistributed
modest amounts of land while leaving most of the available land, and usually the most productive, in the
possession of large owners. In 1980, for example, about 80 percent of petty land-owners in Latin America
occupied 20 percent of cultivated area, while 20 percent of large commercial holders occupied 80 percent of the
land area.
As the new peasantries were being created and subsidized, however, two counter-forces undermined them. First,
the reforms promoted further penetration of commodity relations into the countryside, increasingly exposing
small owners to market forces. Second, the postwar food regime (1945-1972) depressed world grain prices and
encouraged Third World food import dependency. In the Third World as a whole, the ratio of food imports to
food exports increased from 50 percent in 1955-1960 to 80 percent in 1980. Food imports contradicted the
political ideals of "balanced national development" and expanding petty capitalist ownership in the Third
World countryside.
In sum, during the post-Second World War period, national "peasantiza-tion" through land redistribution, and
global "depeasantization" through urban displacement, proceeded simultaneously. There were two important
consequences of these contradictory processes. First, class differentiation in rural Third World occurred at a
sluggish rate, as peasant dispossession through displacement predominated over dispossession through
differentiation. The number of Third World rural migrants increased by 230 percent between 1950 and 1975, as
compared to the previous twenty-five years (1925-1950). Second, as massive as peasant dispossession through
displacement was in this period, its effects were mitigated by national protection of agriculture through state
financing of inputs, price supports, and subsidies. As a result, this period witnessed a relative, rather than
absolute, decline of peasant populations in most of the Third World. The process of absolute decline of Third
World peasantries began with global restructuring and denationalization of Third World agriculture.
the means of production (e.g., title to a small plot of land) but may have lost his or her nonmarket access to the
means of subsistence. This is the case with respect to peasants who maintain their land ownership, but who have
lost control of the labor process. What they produce, how they produce, and for whom they produce are decided
by the agro-food corporations (or their subcontractors). Here production is carried out by the peasantry (who
may own a portion of the means of production), but not for the peasantry. These are the small holders who have
nonetheless lost their nonmarket access to production, and are thus not able to engage fully in subsistence
agricultural production. Precisely for the same reason, they are partially or potentially mobile and comprise the
reserve army of migratory labor. Becoming fully mobile (through dispossession and displacement), however,
requires the loss of ownership of the means of production (through sale, abandonment, or expropriation).
The significance of the renewal of rural displacement in the context of globalization and debt peonage can be
gauged by a recent estimate that two billion people will become redundant worldwide if the neoliberal trade
regime is fully implemented. My own calculations indicate that currently about 65 percent of the growth in the
world's urban populations is now attributable to rural-to-urban migration. More important, comparing the two
periods 1950-1975 and 1975 to the present, the rate of increase in the urban population due to rural out-migration
has been accelerating since 1975 (in Latin America this rate accelerated by about 14 percent, in Asia by about 10
percent, and in Africa by about 5 percent over a period of twenty-five years). Similarly, my analysis of the latest
available data indicates that between 1950 and 1975, in the Third World as a whole, the average annual rate of
rural population growth increased by 20.6 percent. Between 1975 and 1995, however, in a dramatic reversal, the
average annual rate of rural population growth declined by 38 percent. These data are clearly consistent with the
analysis of the two periods outlined above.
An alternative interpretation of the "peasant question" is needed that can transcend the limits of twentieth century
discourse on the "fate" of the peasantry. I have argued that "the peasant question" (or "agrarian question") cannot
be fully understood without analyzing its politics, history, and geography, nor without seeing it within the
context of a complex interplay among economic, political, and ideological forces at the local and global levels.
Linking the "peasant question" to the question of the unit of analysis (nationalism or globalism), I have
distinguished between two forms of peasant dispossession: (1) dispossession through class differentiation, and
(2) dispossession through displacement. These two processes of peasant dispossession essentially imply two
different types of "peasant questions." One type of peasant question is that which was posed within an essentially
develop-mentalist frame of reference (Kautsky's The Agrarian Question, Chayanov's The Theory of Peasant
Economy, and, arguably, a particular reading of Lenin's The Development of Capitalism in Russia). The second
is that posed in the context of addressing the politics of transition to capitalism or socialism (Marx's analysis of
primitive accumulation, Engels's The Peasant Question in France and Germany, and arguably, a political reading
of Lenin's The Development of Capitalism in Russia and his other work on this topic).
Are any of these versions of the peasant question still relevant today? To answer this question, I suggest that we
(1) restore the original political intent behind the peasant question, which dealt, in modern terms, with "alliancebuilding" possibilities, and (2) disentangle it from the home-market context of the late nineteenth century.
Hence, if, by asking the "peasant question," we mean to ask whether the peasantry of an "underdeveloped
nation" will differentiate into a rural proletariat and bourgeoisie (leading to national "development") or whether
peasants will always resist differentiation, then the question has increasingly become irrelevant. But if we are
pose the "peasant question" in its political and substantive sense to address the problem of alliance building
informed by an analysis of global class formation in the post-GATT era, then I contend that the peasant question
is more relevant than ever. If this is the case, then, what is the "peasant question" of our times? The "peasant
question" has been transformed and differentiated into seven interrelated questions:
(1) The housing/homeless question
Peasant dispossession through displacement at the global level has resulted in an increasing concentration of
masses of people in the urban centers of the Third World. Between 1950 and 1990, the urban populations of
most countries in Africa, Asia, and Latin America increased by 300 percent. During the same period, the number
of Third World cities with populations of more than one million increased from 34 to 174. Today, close to a
billion people do not have adequate shelter. One hundred million people have no shelter at all, and an increasing
mass of people, mostly new arrivals from the countryside, live in urban slums and shantytowns. The majority of
the population in many Third World cities live in squatter settlements. Squatter settlements account for 90
percent of the population in Yaounde and Addis Ababa; 60 percent in Bogota, Mexico City, and Accra; 50
percent in Dhaka and Lusaka; and more than 30 percent in Manila, Nairobi, Istanbul, and Delhi. With the
expansion of urban slums, a second kind of displacement is taking place in Third World cities in order to free
valuable real estate land for commercial and industrial needs. Euphemistically referred to as "urban population
relocation" in World Bank jargon, forced urban displacement has become a painful reality for millions of slum
dwellers. According to a World Bank discussion paper, 425,000 people were the victims of "bank-financed
urban and infrastructure projects entailing involuntary resettlement" between 1981 and 1990. Every year
worldwide, ten million people die due to housing shortages and poor housing conditions. "Housing hunger" is no
less severe, if not more severe, than "land hunger" was for the "differentiating" peasantry in the early twentieth
century. The struggles of the homeless for housing are an essential aspect of the "peasant question" of our times.
Currently, there are 700 million unemployed people worldwide, 600 million of whom live in absolute poverty. In
Mexico, for example, more than 50 percent of the population is currently unemployed or underemployed.
Peasant dispossession via displacement is linked with the rise of informal economies in the Third World.
Increasingly the displaced and uprooted people have been forced to make their living through informal worka
variety of economic activities that are not regulated by the state and enjoy no protection, continuous
employment, or job-related benefits. Conceived as a political project, global restructuring could be seen as a
process of dismantling the postwar wage-labor regime through maquiladorization, casualization of work,
subcontracting and modern putting-out systems, feminization of cheap labor, and employment of child, bonded,
and sweatshop labor. The dismantling of the formal, urban (and relatively protected) wage-labor regime has
been made possible by the existence of a massive and a global reserve army of migratory labor. One of the
emerging peasant questions of our time thus is: what are the immediate demands of casual workers, and how
could the spontaneous movements of casual workers be linked with urban/labor movements?
The largest migration in world history is currently taking place. Unemploy-ment, poverty, and overurbanization
are driving millions of people out of their home countries. Between 1965 and 1995, the number of international
migrants worldwide increased by 38 percent, reaching 125 million people by the mid-1990s. Of these, the ILO
estimates that at least 42 million are "guest workers," a source of cheap, unskilled and semiskilled labor in the
immigrant countries. Legal labor migration accounts for only 25 percent of all Third World migrants. Between
1990 and 1995, international migration accounted for 45 percent of the population growth in the First World,
with refugees now accounting for more than 30 percent of the total annual immigration of foreigners to Europe
and America. Worldwide, there are 19 million refugees.
Here I refer to a particular aspect of what Gayatri Spivak has called "identitarianism." With a mass of global
working class people living a migratory life in "alien" (national or international) cultures and political contexts,
the politics of essentialist identity formation (that is, "identitarianism") finds increasing importance. I have
pointed out elsewhere that the rise of Islamic fundamentalism in Iran (as well as other forms of such
fundamentalism elsewhere) cannot be accounted for solely as a response to the global politics of suppression and
social control. It also had an existentialist basis in the drastically migratory aspect of class formation in Iran in
the late 1960s and 1970s. While working class movements around the world have yet to overcome their
fragmentation based on sexism, heterosexism, national identity, religiosity, and traditional racism, the
international mobility of labor, within the context of capitalism, generates a fertile ground for the development
of new forms of racism and religious fundamentalism. The alienation of metropolitan workers from "foreign,"
immigrant laborers as a result of competitive pressures and cultural/ideological frictions tends to intensify
essentialist identity formation on the part of migratory workers; this validates the estrangement of native workers
from "foreign laborers," and thus rein-forces the overall pattern.
(5) The question of global hunger
With the rapid, massive5 and global incorporation of formerly self-sufficient agricultural peoples into market
relations, and with millions of people having lost their nonmarket access to the production of their means of
subsistence, hunger has assumed a uniquely global character. "Hunger amidst scarcity" has given way to "hunger
amidst abundance." The contemporary food problem is rooted in the increasing global commodification of food,
rather than being a consequence of a lack of sufficient food. As every student of introductory economics learns,
exchange of commodities under market relations depends on the willingness and ability of the participants to buy
and sell. Currently there is a global surplus of food, and we can safely assume that people who are hungry are
willing to eat; it is therefore people's inability to purchase food as a market commodity and the loss of their
direct access to the production of their means of subsistence (i.e., depeasantization) that explains the global
character of hunger today.
The global commodification of food, in other words, is the natural counterpart of the global commercialization
of agriculture. Since the 1980s, the World Bank and the IMF have sponsored the latter, and have pressured the
Third World states through their lending ("adjustment") policies to shift agriculture from local subsistence to
export crops. Thus, Brazil's and Thailand's most productive lands are now producing millions of tons of
soybeans and cassavacash crop animal feeds for use in intensive livestock production in the North. Similarly,
at the behest of the World Bank, IMF, and USAID, Zimbabwe, a "structurally adjusted" country, reduced corn
cultivation from 895,000 acres to 245,000 acres to grow high-grade tobacco. With IMF advice, Zimbabwe sold
much of its grain reserve to obtain cash-. As a result, a country that used to be the breadbasket of Africa now
faces major famine. The pursuit of structural adjustment policies, one author points out, "turned one of Africa's
best health and education records into a virtual shambles" while paying out $50,000 an hour in gross 'interest
payments between 1986 and 1991.18 In Costa Rica, structural adjustment is encouraging the planting of flowers,
melons, strawberries, and red peppers for export instead of growing rice, beans, and corn. Similarly, Kenya and
Botswana, located in a continent whose name evokes images of emaciated children with swollen bellies, are
major beef exporters to Europe. And Lesotho has become a major exporter of asparagus, while its people suffer
from severe malnutrition. Since the 1980s, food consumption per person has been steadily declining for most
Africans. The data produced by the joint effort of the World Health Organization and Food and Agriculture
Organization show that an estimated 786 million Third World people were chronically undernourished in the
1990s. As the food riots from Algeria to Jordan demonstrate, the food question is another dimension of the
"peasant question" of our times.
(6) The "green question"
The global commercialization of agriculture and commodification of food have involved a progressive
conversion of arable land to cattle pasture. In the past few decades, more than 25 percent of Central American
forests have been cleared to develop pastures for grazing cattle. Over the past few decades Kenya has lost 50
percent of its forests and Thailand's forest cover has declined by 40 percent. Overcropping, overgrazing,
deforestation, and desertification are devouring cropland at an alarming rate. Between 1950 and 1990, the
amount of grainland in the world per person declined by 50 percent. The rise of an international cattle complex
in response to increasing demand for meat by the world's more affluent classes and societies has resulted in land
concentration and displacement of the world's peasant populations. As Jeremy Rifkin has pointed out: "While
American consumers saved, on the average, close to a nickel on every hamburger imported from Central
America, the cost to the native environment was overwhelming and irreversible. Each imported hamburger
required the clearing of six square yards of jungle for pasture."
Much of this environmental destruction in recent decades can be traced to international agencies' policies and
lending practices. Bruce Rich has documented not only the serious social and environmental consequences of the
World Bank lending policies, which mostly affect the masses of poor and powerless people, but also the growing
social movements of the same people and their advocates who have created, as the World Bank's Vice-President
for external relations put it in 1986, the "most important image problem" for the World Bank.21 A leaked
internal World Bank report indicated that in order to make way for various World Bank projects in the South
four million people were to be forced off their lands by 1996. Dam projects, most of which are justified at least
in part in terms of meeting the water and electrical power needs of intensive farming and growing urban
populations, account for the bulk of this forced relocation. The "greening" of the World Bank has taken place
after years of protest by millions of people who, as Chico Mendez put it, "became environmentalists without
even knowing the word." As the rise of international grass-roots environmental movements demonstrates, the
green question has become an aspect of the "peasant question" of our era.
(7)-The indigenous/landless question
Worldwide, an estimated one billion rural people (180 million households) are landless or near-landless. In
Central America as a whole, 94 percent of all farms use only 9 percent of the farmland. In Guatemala an
estimated 1.2 million hectares of land owned by large owners lie idle, either for speculative purposes or because
cash crop prices are too low to justify cultivation. In Costa Rica, the 2,000 richest cattle owners occupy more
than 50 percent of the nation's arable land, while 55 percent of all rural households are landless. In the
Philippines, of the 10 million people in the agricultural rural force, 6.5 million are landless workers. In Brazil, 45
percent of the arable land is owned by the top 1 percent of landowners; the bottom 80 percent holds 13 percent of
the land and there are five million landless families. In Mexico the dismantling of the ejido system (communal
farm lands that included 70 percent of all Mexican farmers and 7 percent of Mexico's remaining forests), along
with the implementation of NAFTA, will make an estimated one million farmers landless every year, with as
many as 15 million peasants projected to abandon agriculture in the next two decades. Free trade agreements,
globalization/denationalization of agricultures, and global competition are likely to increase the widespread
destitution and bankruptcy among subsistence owners on the one hand, and reinforce land acquisition and
concentration by the propertied classes on the other. Such class warfare waged from the above has already
generated a vigorous response from the dispossessing peasantries, notably in Brazil (the Landless Rural
Workers' Movement which has succeeded in repossessing 7.2 million hectares of land), Mexico (the Chiapas
movement which has explicitly linked local poverty with the global free trade regime), and Guatemala (where
squatters hold some 22 percent of farms).
The eminent historian Eric Hobsbawm has remarked in his panoramic history of the twentieth century, The Age
of Extremes, that of all the convulsive social changes of this centurytwo massive world wars, decolonization
and the rise of the interstate system, the astounding spread of industrialization, the rise and fall of statesocialism, the extraordinary development of technology, the communications revolution, and so onthe most
fundamental change has been the passing of peasant and rural life. At the beginning of the century, the vast
majority of the world's peoples were peasants or lived in rural areas. By the end of the century, peasant life was
rapidly disappearing, and the world had become overwhelmingly urban.
The passing of peasant and rural life, however, does not mean that the world can be understood completely or
accurately through a metropolitan lens. Though tens of millions of rural people experience dislocations of one
sort of another each year, billions of rural people remain, albeit increasingly as migratory and casual/informal
laborers, refugees, threatened indigenous peoples, homeless and landless, or as smallholder peasants holding on
against the tide of the global commodification of food.
These dramatic and fundamental changes signal the fact that the form of the early twentieth century peasant or
agrarian question has been trans-formed. However, the substance of the peasant or agrarian question, which was
always a programmatic effort to link diverse manifestations of the ongoing progressive social movements, is still
relevant today, precisely due to its world wide character.
Calculated from data in United Nations, World Urbanization Prospects: The 1996 Revision (New York:
United Nations, 1998), 20-29, 88-94, 104-110.
For a review and critique of this debate see Farshad Araghi, "Global Depeasantization: 1945-1995," The
Sociological Quarterly 36 (Spring 1995), 337-368; Philip McMichael and Frederick Buttel, "New Directions in
the Political Economy of Agriculture," Sociological Perspectives 33 (1990), 89-109.
Harriet Friedmann and Philip McMichael, "Agriculture and the State System: The Rise and Decline of
National Agricultures: 1870 to Present," Sociologia Ruralis29 (1989), 93-117.
This practice dovetailed with the rapidly increasing mass of international finance capital spurred by the
breakdown of the Bretton Woods system.
In other words, while the loss of ownership of the means production is at the same time the loss of
nonmarket access to means of subsistence, the reverse is not always the case. That is, the loss of nonmarket
access to the means of subsistence does not necessarily require the loss of ownership of the means of production.
This distinction will clarify some of the issues raised by R.C. Lewontin in chapter 5 of this book.
James Goldsmith, The Trap (New York: Carroll & Graf Publishers, 1994), 39.
World Health Organization, "International Year of Shelter for the Homeless: Shelter and Health" WHO
Features, No. 108 Qune 1987), 1.
Calculated from data in Michael Cernea, "The Urban Environment and Population Relocation" World
Bank Discussion Papers (Washington, D.C.:The World Bank, 1993), 25.
United Nations, "Habitat II: City Summit to Forge the Future of Human Settlemerits in an Urbanizing
World," UN Chronicle 33, No. 1 (September 1996), 40-48.
Philip McMichael, "The Global Crisis of Wage-labour" Studies in Political Economy 58 (Spring 1999),
International Labor Organization, "As Migrant Ranks Swell, Temporary Guest Workers Increasingly
Replace Immigrants," ILO Press Release, 18 April 1997.
United Nations, "Your Papers, Please: International Migration: What Prompts It? What Problems
Arise?" UN Chronicle 34, No. 3, (1977), 15.
Farshad Araghi, "Land Reform Policies in Iran: Comment." American Journal of Agricultural
Economics 74 (1989), 1046-1049.
Relatedly, the rise of identitarianism also questions the old "national question." In the era of
"denationalization" and decomposition of formerly multiethnic societies (e.g., Yugoslavia) what may appear as
the "national question" may in reality be an aspect of identitarianism. The national question as such, similar to
the "peasant question" of the early twentieth century, has increasingly become irrelevant.
There are historical parallels, notably the Great Irish Potato Famine. While the immediate cause of crop
failures was a blight, the dependence of the Irish peasants on the potato was a creatio n of British colonialism.
We may here distinguish between the "visible colonialism" of the Irish case (where Britain controlled its
colonies by the "visible hand" of the state) and the "invisible colonialism" of the late twentieth century (when the
transnational corporations and their agencies control the weaker states by the "invisible hand" of the market and
the debt regime).
Susan George and Fabrizio Sabelli, Faith and Credit: The World Bank's Secular Empire (Boulder:
Westview Press, 1994), 61-67; Jim Naureckas, "The Somalia Intervention: Tragedy Made Simple" Extra!26,
No.2 (March 1993), 10-13.
World Health Organization, "Malnutrition and Diet-Related Death Rates Remain Rampant in Some
Nations," WHO Press 20 (November 1992), 1-5.
Bruce Rich, Mortgaging the Earth: The World Bank, Environmental Impoverishment, and the Crisis of
Development (Boston: Beacon Press, 1994), 160-181.
Marlise Simons, "Brazilian Who Fought to Protect Amazon Is Killed," New York Times, 24 December
1988, 1.
Nicholas Hildyard, "Too Many for What? The Social Generation of Food, Security, and
Overpopulation,' Ecologist26 (November/December 1996), 282-289.
Ibid, 285.
Chapter Nine
There have been two periods of intense union activism among U.S. farm workers, both of which were
accompanied by considerable protest, public involvement, and eventual governmental support, at least at the
state level. The first was the Depression era of the 1930s in which first the Communist Party and later the
Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) took up the cause of farm workers. These activities, however, came
to an abrupt conclusion as the expansion of jobs in urban areas in preparation for United States entry into the
Second World War drained the enormous agricultural labor surplus and stimulated the importation of braceros
(farm workers) from Mexico.
The second, and by far most successful, was the UFW-led farm worker movement that flourished in California
from 1965 to around 1980. In California in 1975, after ten years of organizing, strikes, protest marches,
consumer boycotts, inter-union rivalries, and expired union contracts, the California Agricultural Labor
Relations Act (ALRA) was passed which gave farm workers the right to unionize. In 1979, the United Farm
Workers (UFW) under its president Cesar Chavez won an important contract-renewal strike settlement in the
lettuce and vegetable industry in California that significantly increased wages for field workers and stipulated
union-management negotiations over mechanization. In addition, during the 1980s, after a boycott of Campbellowned products, the Farm Labor Organizing Committee (FLOC) under its president Baldemar Velasquez
signed three-party contracts, involving the union, large processors/food corporations, such as Campbell and
Heinz, and many tomato and cucumber growers in Ohio and Michigan, which covered around 7000 workers.
Farm labor organizations and advocacy groups appeared to be building momentum in other states during the
1970s and early 1980s.
During its upward trajectory, the UFW signed contracts with 80 percent of California's table grape growers and a
sizable proportion of the state's lettuce and vegetable growers and wineries. In addition, its successful con-sumer
boycotts stimulated the passage of the ALRA mentioned above. The California law filled a legal gap in a major
state that had been caused by the lack of NLRA rights and stipulated guidelines for union-recognition elections
among field workers. It created the Agricultural Labor Relations Board (ALRB) to oversee elections and enforce
the ALRA's guidelines. Through its organizing campaigns and the terms of its contracts, the UFW attempted to
transform the status of agricultural labor by altering many of the conditions of work and employment that have
characterized farm work in California and elsewhere for over a century. The union sought to eliminate the use of
farm labor contractors (FLCs), reduce worker migrancy, and stabilize the farm labor force so that fewer new
immigrants were necessary. In fact, the resolution of the 1979 lettuce and vegetable strike signified for many,
including a number in the grower community, a significant step towards institutionalization of farm labor
unionism in California.
In the early 1980s the UFW entered a defensive stage and began to decline. Internal UFW disputes resulted in
the departure of key personnel, including many organizers and members of the legal staff. Also, a change in
governors from Democrat Jerry Brown to Republican George Deukmejian in 1983 resulted in a decline in
enforcement of the ALRA and encouraged more intense grower resistance. The consequence was a plummeting
of UFW influence and the number of workers under union contracts.1 Progress has mostly stalled in the 1990s
and many of the gains have been reversed. At the time of Chavez's death in March 1993, the UFW held only a
handful of contracts covering about 5000 workers, down from over 60,000 workers covered by 120 contracts
during the early 1980s. FLOC, while holding onto their Ohio and Michigan contracts, has yet to expand their
base beyond the Upper Midwest. Both unions are currently (as of spring 2000) involved in major organizing
drives, among strawberry workers in California (UFW) and migrant cucumber harvesters in North Carolina
(FLOC). However, largely because of the circumstances described below, tangible results have been difficult to
Historically, there has been a close connection between rising wages and/or organizing campaigns and the influx
of new immigrants which, in turn, led to reversals of progress. 2 New immigration is a major contributor to
continued difficulty for renewed organizing in the fields. During the past two decades, the farm labor supply in
much of the country has become increasingly composed of new or recent immigrants, primarily from Mexico.
During this time, wages and conditions of agricultural work have declined significantly.
Changes in the composition and circumstances of agricultural labor have accentuated the status of farm workers
as belonging to the proletarian class but not fully part of it, marginalized by immigrant and sometimes
citizenship status as well as by very low wages, difficult working conditions, and uneven employment. In some
ways, farm workers are similar to garment workers both early in the twentieth century, and more recently as
the latter occupation has once again become populated again by recent immigrants. However, unlike most
occupations, agricultural labor has been further marginalized by minimal levels of unionization and continued
exclusion from the protections of the National Labor Relations Act (NLRA). All of these characteristics serve to
perpetuate farm workers as a "super-exploited" segment of the U.S. working class. Much of the driving force
behind the patterns treated in this chapter is a search for profit maximization by increasing absolute surplus
The demand for a seasonal supply of low-wage labor for California's specialized, large-scale farms has been
filled since the 1870s by a steady supply of immigrants. These migrant streams included, at various times,
Chinese, Japanese, Asian Indians, Mexicans, and Filipinos, to mention the most numerous. It is no exaggeration
to say that all these groups were economically exploited and racially oppressed. During the late nineteenth and
early twentieth centuries, racial segregation excluded many immigrants, such as the Chinese, from skilled urban
employment. Instead, immigrants settling in urban areas served as a reserve army of labor available for seasonal
work in the fields at low wages. The harvest labor market maintained conditions of a chronic labor surplus, and
sometimes placed groups of diverse ethnic backgrounds and languages in competition with each other for
available jobs. Workers lived in deteriorated carnps under the scrutiny of employers or their agents, and their low
incomes and racial-ethnic status segregated them from alternative housing and services. If field workers
attempted some form of coordinated resistance, their employers often joined into collective opposition in order
to maintain an unorganized, union-free labor market. Growers and their supporters as well as local police
frequently used violent tactics to curtail organizing and break strikes. Authorities sometimes used threats of
deportation against noncitizens (particularly Mexicans), and some growers even manipulated inter-ethnic
tensions and hostilities to prevent worker solidarity.
There have been three consequences arising from this succession of immigrants in agriculture. First, each stream
of new immigrants looking for work created downward pressure on wages and sustained the wage gap between
farm workers and those in urban jobs. Second, new immigrants undercut attempts at collective bargaining and, in
fact, were often used to replace previous immigrants who were becoming organized. Third, acreage increased in
labor-intensive crops because of the continued availability of low-wage labor, and mechanization of harvest and
other activities was postponed.
Yet, as persistent and prominent as these patterns and strategies have been, it periodically appeared as if this
system could not be sustained, and that it might even be on the verge of extinction. Sometimes, ethnic solidarity
would facilitate successful collective bargaining in particular localities.
Throughout the 1980s, economic difficulties, reforms and dislocations in Mexico, and political upheavals in
Central America brought hundreds of thousands of new immigrants into the United States, especially California.
Under the Carlos Salinas administration, the Mexican government adopted economic reforms that privatized a
number of public enterprises and emphasized market forces in ways that resulted in the loss of tens of
thousands of jobs from the economy. Agricultural modernization in Mexico reduced the need for farm work,
made it more difficult for peasants to own land, and eroded the ability of small landowners to compete on the
international market. Meanwhile, neoliberal reforms in 1992 increased the amount of land corporations could
operate under "ejidos" (a state-protected form of communal land tenure) to as many as 2500 hectares (6000
acres), while peasant access to state credit and technical assistance declined dramatically. These consequences of
economic change undercut the incentives of rural Mexicans to remain in their villages, and reinforced migration
as an important strategy for providing sufficient family income. These and other factors, combined with a
population boom, difficulties in finding work in Mexico's cities, and the dislocations caused by NAFTA, insured
that large numbers of people continually sought entry into the United States.
In California in particular, many new immigrant farm workers are not from the traditional "sending
communities" in the six western states of Mexico centered around Guadalajara, but instead are from Mexico's
three southwestern states. Most notable have been Mixtec Indian immigrants from Oaxaca and surrounding
states, places that contain large concentrations of poverty and high rates of unemployment. Most Mixtecs are
undocumented single males, and some speak very little Spanish. Mixtecs are on the bottom of the ethnic
hierarchy in Mexico as well as in the United States, creating further divisions among the agricultural labor
In some areas of the United States, a seemingly endless supply of low-wage immigrant labor has stimulated
increased acreage devoted to labor-intensive agricultural production. For example, California's fruit and
vegetable sector has expanded its harvested acreage by 41 percent since 1988, and fruit and vegetable production
has doubled from 15 million to 30 million tons over the past twenty years. There is also a high rate of worker
exodus from agriculture due to relatively poor compensation and working conditions as well as job instability. In
addition, the volume of Mexican workers who have been recruited specifically for farm work in the United
States by contractors or employers has increased during the last fifteen to twenty years. Despite the need for
greater numbers of workers compared with two decades ago, during the 1990s there has been an even greater
imbalance between the numbers of those looking for work and the jobs available in the chronically oversupplied
agricultural labor market. In fact, many growers hire more workers per acre as a hedge against too many workers
quitting, but this has also resulted in a reduction in the average time each worker is employed. Reduced work
hours have contributed to a sharp drop in the average annual earnings of farm workers and resulted in an increase
in the poverty rate among farm workers nationally from 50 to 61 percent between 1990 and 1994-95. The
increase of poverty among farm workers in California during the same years has been almost identical, from 48
in 1990-91 to 61 percent in 1994-97.6
Since 1988 the Department of Labor's National Agricultural Workers Survey (NAWS) project has carried out a
series of interviews with randomly selected people employed in "seasonal agricultural services" (SAS)
throughout the United States three times each year. The surveys the best source of data on the changing
circumstances of farm workers is the United Stateshave demonstrated that among agricultural workers in the
United States, the number of foreign born, particularly Mexican born, has continued to surge with a steady flow
of new immigrants. Both nationally and in California, the farm labor force has become increasingly composed of
Latin American immigrants, particularly young Mexican men, including the steady influx of those who are
Data from interviews during fiscal years 1994-95, the latest national data to be published, indicated that 69
percent of workers interviewed were foreign born, with 65 percent born in Mexico. Only 10 percent ef workers
were United States-born Hispanics, and another 18 percent were United States-born whites. (NAWS interviews
during 1989-91 put the percentage of foreign-born at 60 percent, with Mexican-born accounting for 53 percent of
the total SAS. Among first-year farm workers, a full 88 percent were foreign-born in 1989-91, giving further
evidence of a labor force in transition.) In addition, of the farm workers who migrate to find work within the
United States, 85 percent were foreign-born, almost all from Latin America. There is also a striking gender
dimension of the farm worker population. The 1994-95 interviews indicated that the percentage of women in
agriculture declined from 25 to 19 during the surveys period. Among the foreign-born, only about 13 percent
were women.
Nationally, recent estimates of undocumented workers in agriculture range from 30 to 50 percent depending on
the crop and region. The proportion of undocumented workers among those interviewed for the NAWS surveys
climbed steadily and dramatically from 7 percent in 1989 to 37 percent in 1994-95. Among the 18 percent of
farm workers who were employed in United States agriculture for the first time in 1994-95, a full 70 percent
were undocumented.
Data from California indicate similar trends, with even higher levels of recent immigrants and undocumented.
NAWS interviews of California SAS workers during fiscal years 1995-97 showed that a full 95 percent were
foreign born, with 53 percent residing in the United States less than 10 years. In addition, 42 percent of workers
indicated they were undocumented.
The increasing proportion of Mexican-born workers is especially apparent in agricultural areas where farm work
and similar occupations had been traditionally performed by African Americans and whites. This pattern has
spread as far as the eastern seaboardfor example, to states like North Carolina, Virginia, Delaware, Maryland,
Georgia, and South Carolina. In addition, Mexican-born workers are an increasingly proportion of the labor
force in other occupations in rural areas, such as meatpacking in the Midwest, poultry processing in southern
states and on the Delmarva Peninsula, seafood processing on the East Coast, and construction in California, the
Southwest, and the South.
Farm worker wages remain very low. For 1989-91, the average annual personal income for SAS workers
nationally was $6500. In California, for 1994-97 the median annual personal income for crop workers was
between $5000 and $7500, with 75 percent earning less than $10,000. The median annual income for
undocumented workers was lower, between $2500 and $5000.
Nationally, both recently-legalized and undocumented farm workers have fewer employer-provided benefits than
farm workers who are legal perma-nent residents or U.S. born. For agricultural workers given temporary visas
under the terms of the 1986 Immigration Reform and Control Act (IRCA), 18 percent are provided medical
insurance and 14 percent vacation pay. Only 5 percent of undocumented workers are provided medical insurance
and 4 percent vacation pay. The comparable percentages for legal permanent residents are 30 percent and 20
percent, while for the U.S. born they are 32 percent and 27 percent.
The farm labor contractor system, which arose in the nineteenth century in California, has historically reflected
the emergent industrialization of agri-culture, with its treatment of harvest labor as an input to be bought as
cheaply as possible. The persistence of this system throughout the twentieth century reflects a further capture of
agriculture by capitallarge-scale growers gain more control over their labor force and sustain profits by
delaying the economic and social progress of farm workers. Employer resistance to most forms of worker
organizations means that the labor contractor system provides an important method of getting jobs and workers
together for a migrant labor force. Until recent decades virtually all groups employed for harvest labor required
some type of intermediary between the large-scale grower and individual worker. Contractors found their niche
as entrepreneurs who collect fees from growers to supply workers as well as service fees from workers. The
grower and the contractor set the wages, hours, and conditions of work for the farm laborers. The contractor
stood in the place of the employer in all dealings with field workers: he or she paid the workers wages and
received their grievances if any were tolerated.
The labor contractor system has created a self-perpetuating cycle. It operates in the employers' interest by
keeping wages low and causes workers to be migrants in order to secure enough days of work to get a livelihood.
As the migrant labor force has become more widely scattered, the agricultural employer has an even greater need
for the services of a labor recruitment agent such as the contractor. Contractors primarily identify with the
employer. As agents for the growers they are in business for themselves and commonly regard union organizers
as troublemakers. The grower retains control over such aspects as the timing of work, job location, amount of
production, and overseeing and general surveillance. The contractor is responsible for the supervision and
discipline of the work crew. The crew leader arrangement creates an ambiguity in the employment relationship
which, on the whole, functions to the advantage of growers. While the grower retains fundamental control over
the labor process, the contractor is treated as the employer and is the most visible source of authority and
responsibility to the workers. Grievances have no place to be voiced except to the contractor, but the conditions
that generate grievances are usually matters that had been settled by prior agreement with the grower. Resolution
of most complaints is thus out of the contractor's power.
A further advantage to agribusiness is that under the labor contractor system, the term "contract" has is
essentially a euphemism. The agreements between grower and contractor do not necessarily take the form of a
written contract. The bargain generally exists as a set of oral and tacit understandings. Even when the agreement
is put into writing, both parties can take a nonlegal view of the document. Negotiations can be treated not so
much as legally binding responsibilities as a set of "clear understandings" in which farm workers took no part.
From the point of view of the worker, contractors secure employment, carry out all dealings with the grower,
collect the wages, pay individual workers, make a profit from selling diem provisions and other necessities, and
even make loans and keep their accounts. "While representing workers to some degree with the employer, the
contractor's livelihood depends on being able to secure an agreement with the grower. At times contractors agree
not to intrude on each other's territory in order to prevent them from underbidding one another.
Historically, there have been many opportunities to further exploit farm workers in the labor contractor system.
Contractors often retained sums paid by the grower as an end-of-harvest "bonus" and pocketed the shares of
those workers who were unable to finish the harvest through illness or injury. Various means of profiteering
arose because of the exclusion of some immigrants from the housing market, and the contractors typically had a
monopoly over the supply of board in the labor camp, and food and drink in the fields. Contractors required
overflow containers when field laborers were paid by volume and short-weighed the produce when payment was
made by weight. By far the most costly fraud perpetrated by contractors was to disappear with the payroll or fail
to pay earnings in full. Even if workers found the legal resources to sue the contractor, little restitution was
gained from suing an individual who owned few productive assets.
The very structure of the labor contractor system has limited the types of worker demands that could be
determined collectively. The system allows growers to claim that they did no hiring, and that FLCs are the actual
employers. Because alternative sources of field workers are available to supplant organized workers, growers
and contractors have little incentive to respond to any worker demands over issues basic to the work situation.
Even during the most favorable periods for farm worker cohesiveness, the contractor system yielded only
limited wage increases for specific jobs, and even then at the cost of protracted farm worker militancy.
The presence of the labor contractor system within a modern agro-indus-trial chain of production reflects the
profoundly contradictory forces of material abundance combined with intense exploitation. Inequality and
poverty are exacer-bated, and a whole array of social, environmental, and economic problems become
intermingled. Under the labor contractor system, farm workers have endured low wages, pesticide dangers,
deplorable living and working conditions, and litde protection from racial discrimination.
Resistance by field workers to the conditions of their labor is as old as the contractor system itself, but only two
recent farm worker unions, the UFW and FLOC, made sufficient gains in union recognition and agricultural
labor agreements to challenge successfully the exploitative practices inherent in the labor contractor system. The
struggle to humanize the conditions of work in agriculture has presupposed union organizing. The demand to
eliminate the labor contractor in employment negotiations was basic to farm worker attempts to regain control
over work and resist the pattern of low-wage labor and migrancy, of which the contractor was an integral part. In
crops and regions where these unions had become established the labor contractor system eroded and began to
disappear. However, as soon as unionization waned, FLCs became reestablished as the central means to supply
workers for the agro-industrial system.
Recent Mexican immigration has created a dramatic comeback by FLCs in California and elsewhere as the
intermediaries who match workers with jobs.
A report published by the Urban Institute concluded that "FLCs are the major immigration story in U.S.
agriculture in the 1990s." Many growers today prefer contractors since this arrangement allows growers to avoid
the paper work, and sometimes the legal liability, of complying with immigration laws and labor regulations,
such as paying the minimum wage and adhering to the terms of the ALRA and IRCA. In addition, during periods
of expanded oversupply of both workers and intermediaries, as has been the case for several decades,
competition among FLCs is heightened and can reduce growers' production costs and transfer costs to workers.
But contractors are more than employers: They are essentially private agents channeling new immigrants into the
farm labor market, both in the United States in general and California in particular. FLCs in California typically
command a crew of thirty to fifty workers, furnish their transportation to fields, and sometimes arrange for their
housing and board as well as for other services. Naturally, new immigrants, particularly the undocumented, are
those most in need of contractors' services. While it was the case that under most UFW contracts FLCs were
prohibited, contractors still were prominent, since large portions of harvest operations in California's agriculture
were never covered by UFW contracts. In addition, most contracts by rival unions, primarily the Teamsters, left
intact the employer option of utilizing contractors. After the decline of unionization, FLCs rapidly proliferated in
agricultural operations, showing up even where they had previously been absent. For example, Salinas Valley
vegetable growers have increased their use of contractors, and contractors now dominate the supply of peakseason labor for fruits and vegetables in the San Joaquin Valley. The growing importance of FLCs accompanied
the increased use of farm management companies as employment intermediaries, as well as reorganization of a
number of unionized enterprises in which the company declared bankruptcy and then reconstituted themselves
with a nonunion work force.
FLCs are now the single most important agricultural employer in Califor-nia; they supply more than one-third of
the 900,000 workers who have farm jobs at some time during the year, and over half of the 600,000 with
seasonal farm jobs. The California share is considerably greater than the nationwide average of 11 percent of
SAS workers who are employed by FLCs. In California, the annual payrolls of FLCs have gone up steadily, from
$160 million in 1978 to $540 million in 1990. FLCs are currently the major factor influencing the structure and
functioning of the farm labor market.
The expanded usage of FLCs is important for several reasons. First, labor costs for growers are reduced
considerably from those under union contracts. A study of compensation of workers under UFW contracts
signed after 1976 showed that wages and fringe benefits increased while the number of contracts declined.
Statewide, the hourly salary for workers classified as "general labor" under 108UFW contracts was $3.38 in
1978. This increased to $6.20 in 1985, but the number of contracts was only twenty-eight. Fringe benefits
consistently added another 15 to 18 percent.11 However, during this period, farm worker wages in general fell
precipitously. Estimates of their drop during the 1980s have typically ranged from 20 to 35 percent depending on
the crop and geographical area, and this reduction has continued during the 1990s. Nationally, the NAWS report
on the 1989-91 interviews showed that average hourly wages (in 1989 dollars) for farm workers hired by
contractors were $4.92 compared to $5.14 for non-FLC employees.
Expanded use of contractors is important for a second reason. Compared to workers hired directly by individual
growers, a greater proportion of those channeled into the fields by contractors are new immigrants, particularly
undocumented ones. The results are predictable. Studies by agricultural economists indicate that workers
employed by FLCs have lower earnings, less experience with the same grower, less consecutive employment
with the same grower, fewer hours at work when employed, and more time without work than other farm
workers in California. The increasing importance of FLCs has resulted in a downward pressure on wages,
already lowered after union contracts expired. Benefits, such as health care, retirement pensions, disability plans,
paid vacations, and sick leaves that were either instituted by the UFW or rival unions such as the Teamsters or by
growers seeking to avoid unionization, are now far less common. Contractors also reduce the take-home pay of
workers because they often charge more for housing, meals, and/or transportation than do growers when they
directly hire workers and furnish these services.
Both high levels of immigration channeled directly into migrant agricultural labor and the accompanying farm
labor contractor system create enormous difficulties for those attempting to improve wages and conditions for
agricultural labor. FLCs, in particular, sustain poor employment conditions and stimulate high turnovers. But
with continued high levels of immigration, FLCs and/or labor recruiters are one way to connect potential
workers with jobs. In addition, new immigrants, generally more desperate and with fewer alternatives than
established workers, are less likely to take the risks that supporting unionization often involves. Migratory
employment patterns also mean that gains made via collective bargaining at one work site may only apply to a
small portion of one's annual income. These factors make it particularly difficult for farm labor unions.
Historically, however, farm worker strikes and organizing attempts have also involved immigrants, particularly
those who had been in the United States for a number of years. One may expect current immigrants to be
similarly inclined when opportunities arise, but continued worker turnover and replacement by still newer
immigrants do not facilitate acts of resistance. In California, nevertheless, the ALRA has established a
mechanism for union certification elections, and the UFW has been slowly increasing its membership over the
last four years by winning elections and signing contracts. Moreover, FLOC has demonstrated its staying power
in the Upper Midwest, and its achievements include substantially curtailing the use of FLCs by growers under
contract and the elimination of exploitative sharecropper arrangements.
Successful past efforts have also relied on considerable public support, since the structural position of
agricultural labor by itself is comparatively weak. Public support was the basis for the successful UFW consumer
boycotts of the 1960s and 1970s and FLOC's boycott of Campbell products during the 1980s. Unfortunately,
institutionalization of positive changes has proven elusive, and similar kinds of public attention will most likely
be needed again to reverse the patterns of the past two decades.
Theo J. Majka and Linda C. Majka, "Decline of the farm labor movement in California: Organizational
crisis and political change," Critical Sociology 19 (1993), 3-36; Patrick H. Mooney and Theo J. Majka, Farmers'
and Farm Workers' Movements: Social Protest in American Agriculture (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1995).
Linda C. Majka and Theo J. Majka, Farm Workers, Agribusiness, and the State (Philadelphia: Temple
University Press, 1982).
Alain de Janvry, Gustavo Gordillo, and Elisabeth Sadoulet, Mexico's Second Agrarian Reform:
Household and Community Response (La Jolla, CA: Center for U.S.-Mexican Studies, University of California,
San Diego, 1997).
Carol Zabin, Michael Kearney, Anna Garcia, David Runsten, and Carole Nagen- gast, Mixtec Migrants
in California Agriculture: A New Cycle of Poverty (Davis: California Institute for Rural Studies, 1993).
Richard Mines, Susan Gabbard, and Anne S teirman, A Profile of U.S. Farm Workers: Demographics,
Household Composition, Income, and Use of Services (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of Labor, Office of
Program Economics, Research Report No. 6, April 1997).
Howard R. Rosenberg, Anne Steirman, Susan M. Gabbard, and Richard Mines. "Who Works on
California Farms? Demographic and Employment Findings from the National Agricultural Workers
Survey"(Washington, DC: U.S. Department of labor, Office of Program Economics, 1998).
Richard Mines, Susan Gabbard, and Anne Steirman, "A Profile of U.S. Farm Workers: Demographics,
Household Composition, Income, and Use of Services." (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of Labor, Office of
Program Economics, Research Report No. 6, April 1997).
Richard Mines, Richard, Susan Gabbard, and Ruth Samardick, U.S. Farmworkers in the Post-IRCA
Period (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of Labor, Office of Program Economics, Research Report No. 4,
March 1993).
Philip L. Martin, and J. Edward Taylor, Merchants of Labor: Farm Labor Contractors and Immigration
Reform (Washington.'D.C.: The Urban Institute, 1995).
Richard Mines, Susan Gabbard, and Jimmy Torres, "Findings from the National Agricultural Workers
Survey (NAWS), 1989: A Demographic and Employment Profile of Perishable Crop Farm Workers"
(Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of Labor, Office of Program Economics, Research Report No. 2,
November 1991).
Philip L. Martin, Daniel Egan, and Stephanie Luce, "The wages and fringe benefits of unionized
California farmworkers: 1976-1987." Davis: Department of Agricultural Economics, University of California,
Chapter Ten
The grassroots movement for a sustainable food and agriculture system has been gaining momentum over the
past decade. From a scattering of isolated individuals practicing alternative farming methods and smail, local
organizations, sustainable agriculture is swelling into a significant social movement with a national network and
an effective policy wing. Populist in spirit, with strong feelings for civil rights and social justice, and an
underlying spirituality, this movement is not linked with any political party or religious sect. It is firmly
grounded in every region in the country, encompassing organic and low-input farmers; food, farming,
farmworker, community food security, and hunger organizations; animal rights activists; and environmental,
consumer, and religious groups.
The restructuring of the world food system under corporate control since the Second World War has resulted in a
crisis with environmental, economic, and social dimensions. The symptoms of the crisis include loss of farmland
and farmers (and in the United States, especially minority farmers), impoverishment of rural economies and the
decline of small towns, shrinking of the farmer's share of the food dollar, erosion of the soil, pollution of air and
water with synthetic pesticides and farm run-off, the spread of monoculture and the correspondent decline of
biodiversity - the litany of problems goes on and on. In the absence of a unified organizational response, a wide
variety of individuals and groups have tackled different aspects of these problems and proposed solutions.
Around the world, people have responded by resisting, nowhere so clearly or eloquently as the Zapatistas
rallying for land and against Mexican participation in the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA).
Resistance in the United States to the restructuring of the world food system has focused on protecting the family
farm, saving the environment, and promoting food safety. These three strands come together in consumer desire
for organic food. The resistance has also inspired research for the benefit of family farms in this hostile
environment, efforts to rebuild rural communities, to find ways to reduce total reliance on the "free (global)
market," and to save the genetic resources of the third world from patenting by agribusiness. Trying to attack
single issues, the various organizations have not always grasped the systemic nature of the problems or the need
for an integrated analysis and many-sided response. Worse yet, groups have sometimes been pitted against one
another because they failed to see the connections. For example, some major environmental organizations joined
with corporate interests to resist targeting price supports for small farmers in the deluded belief that it would be
easier to control pollution from a few large farms. Failing to see that low prices for farm commodities were
linked with the low wages paid to farmworkers, small farmers have sometimes joined in attacks against better
conditions for farmworkers. The history of the growth of the movement for a sustainable food and agriculture
system is the complex story of how more and more of these separate groups are discovering their
interconnections and common interests.
The very decentralization and lack of hierarchical leaders that has impeded the convergence of this movement is,
at the same time, the source of its great populist vitality and increasing strength. Like a vast jigsaw puzzle that
someone dropped in a dark closet, the pieces have had to discover one another and figure out how to fit together.
Many of the pieces have joined in the National Campaign for Sustainable Agriculture. The Campaign has a
broad definition of sustainable agriculture as a food and agriculture system that is economically viable,
environmentally sound, socially just, and humane. Or, in the simple words of Wendell Berry, "an agriculture that
does not deplete the land or the people." Berry has been one of the moving spirits in the movement, writing
poems, novels, and essays from his farm in Kentucky. He articulates a fierce critique of the irresponsibility of the
impersonal relations of the industrialized, corporate, global food system, while lifting up the homely values of
stewardship of the land and respect for the local people, their farms, businesses, and living web of
interdependencies. (See The Unsettling of America - Culture and Agriculture, 1977, and The Gift of Good Land,
Further Essays, 1981).
By the end of the lobbying effort directed at Congress in relation to the 1996 Farm Bill, over 500 groups were
associated with the National Campaign. An ongoing task for the Campaign steering committee is to broaden the
circle continually by reaching out to new groups, help heal wounds from old battles, and reveal deeper
connections. This brief introduction can only give a taste of the vitality and diversity of the expanding network
that makes up the movement for a sustainable food and agriculture system. The discussion below is arranged by
the major goals the organizations are striving to achieve.
The main goal of a number of organizations is to provide farmers with help using more environmentally sound
practices, while managing their farms better in order to survive in the hostile economic system dominated by
corporate agribusiness.
Fighting the Decline of the Family Farm: The Center for Rural Affairs
Founded in 1973, the Center for Rural Affairs (CRA) in Walthill, Nebraska, has taken the lead in creating
effective local farm programs while spreading understanding of the realities of farm policy. The Center was
formed by rural Nebraskans who were concerned about the decline of family farms and rural communities.
Introducing the Center's Annual Report for 1997-1998, Chuck Hassebrook and Don Ralston write:
We are at a critical juncture whereby people everywhere can choose to foster justice, opportunity and
stewardship in rural America. The Center for Rural Affairs flatly rejects the "inevitable" decline of family farms
and rural communities. The decline we see around us is not inevitable. It is the result of decisions made by
people, that can be reversed by people - with the right combination of community initiative, passion, citizen
involvement, and perseverance. The Center for Rural Affairs is committed to this work...!
The Center provides technical assistance in replacing expensive off-farm inputs with renewable resources, such
as solar driers for grains and legume cover crops instead of nitrogen fertilizers. To save small scale hog
production for the family-sized farm, the Center has worked with farmers on using hoop houses, a cheap new
technology for raising hogs, while heading up a regional attack on corporate hog production and a national attack
on the monopolization of hog slaughter and marketing. To support the local farm economy, the Center sponsors
the Rural Enterprise Assistance Project (REAP) which offers training and support to farmers and other rural
residents who want to run small businesses. The Center's Beginning Farmer Sustainable Agriculture Project
takes a comprehensive approach to helping beginning farmers get started while learning to farm in
environmentally and socially sound ways.
While working with local initiatives, the Center takes an active role in state and federal policy advocacy and
development. It is a founding member of the Midwest Sustainable Agriculture Working Group (MWSAWG), a
coalition of farming and environmental organizations, and Program Director Chuck Hassebrook was one of the
original co-chairs of the National Campaign for Sustainable Agriculture. The Center's monthly newsletter is
probably the best single source for analysis of farming issues.(1)
The Struggle of Black Farmers:
The Federation of Southern Cooperatives/Land Assistance Fund
Community organizations and leaders who had been molded and forged in the Civil Rights Movement of the
1960s created the Federation of Southern Cooperatives to save and enhance the land resources owned by its
primarily black membership. Currently, there are over seventy active cooperative member groups with over
20,000 member families in Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina. The member cooperatives
engage in agricultural production and marketing, community development credit unions, and consumer, worker,
and housing issues.
The main objective of the Federation has been to help black landowners keep their land. Attorneys and over 100
trained volunteers give legal support. Ongoing technical assistance helps farmers manage their farm businesses
more effectively and move away from traditional crops to specialty vegetables, organic production, and livestock
that are more suitable for making a living on small acreage. One of the farmer cooperatives in Georgia is
developing a shared vegetable packing facility so that members can pool their produce and sell to bigger
markets. A Mississippi co-op is facilitating direct marketing to black neighborhoods in Chicago.
The Federation has worked since the 1980s to create a "minority farmers rights bill" to assist family farmers of
color across the country. In 1992, the Federation sponsored a "Caravan of Black and Native American Farmers"
to Washington, D.C., which culminated in demonstrations at the Capitol and the U.S. Department of Agriculture
(USDA). Advocacy by the Federation resulted in the inclusion of Section 2501 in the Farm Bill of 1990, which
recognizes the problems of minority farmers and authorized $10 million for an outreach, education and technical
assistance program for socially disadvantaged farmers. In 1997, the Federation helped organize a series of
"Listening Sessions on Civil Rights" which brought hundreds of farmers to tell their stories of neglect and
discrimination at the hands of USDA. Out of these hearings came the formation of a Civil Rights Action Team in
the USDA to deal with the issues of agricultural credit and the backlog of civil rights complaints, and the
formation of the Commission on Small Farms. Both the Federation and the National Campaign were well
represented on this Commission. Its historic report, A Time to Act, (January, 1998), calls for the implementation
of effective policies designed to protect small farmers' access to fair markets and for the redirection of existing
federal funding programs skewed toward serving the interests of large agribusinesses.
Organic Farm Movement: Northeast Organic Farming Associations
The Natural Organic Farmers Association (later to become the Northeast Organic Farming Association, NOFA)
was started in 1971, and brought together farmers, gardeners, and consumers of organic foods. Inspired by the
writings and publications of J.I. and Robert Rodale, the Soil Association founded by Lady Balfour in England,
and the writings on soil and health of Sir Albert Howard, the people who joined NOFA wanted to eat healthy
food grown on healthy soils. Because the agricultural universities and the extension services were busy with
chemical agriculture, NOFA became a primary regional focus for hands-on learning through workshops, farm
tours, demonstrations, and conferences. Farmers and gardeners taught one another, and shared what in another
context might be considered trade secrets on non-toxic methods of cultivation and pest control. Branching out
from a single organization in Vermont and New Hampshire, in the early 1980s, autonomous chapters formed in
seven of the northeast states. In Maine, a sister organization, the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners
Association (MOFGA), holds sway. Although a few of the chapters have been able to hire staff, most NOFA
activities depend on volunteers. An Interstate Council loosely coordinates the state chapters, publishes a
quarterly newspaper, The Natural Farmer, and sponsors an annual summer conference and celebration of rural
By 1998, the northeast organic programs were certifying close to 750 farms in eight states. Never quick to turn to
government agencies, the NOFAs were less than enthusiastic about the Organic Foods Production Act of 1990
which established the National Organic Program in the USDA. While recognizing the value of a consistent,
nationally accepted definition of organic in the marketplace, most NOFA members consider the USDA a tool of
conventional agribusiness and dread the bureaucratization of organic certification.
The growth of the market for organic foods over the last five years has brought an influx of imports from
western states and points south of the border. To survive the competition, northeastern organic farmers have
been turning more and more to direct sales through farmers markets, farm stands and community supported
agriculture projects (CSA, see below).
Forging a Farmer-Community Alliance: Community Supported Agriculture
Introduced to this country for the first time in 1985, the concept of CSA has been snatched up enthusiastically by
organic farms, especially in the northeast.(2) In a CSA project, a group of consumers form a sort of cooperative
with an individual farm or small group of farms. The members agree to share the risks of farming with the
farmers. If the crop is abundant, the sharers get more food; if there is a crop failure, they get less. Unlike any
other fresh market vegetable sales, CSA sharers sign a contract to pay in advance, or in regular installments, for
the entire season. The farmers develop a budget and divide their annual costs by the number of shares to arrive at
the approximate price of a share. To include lower income members, many CSAs either charge on a sliding scale
or invite more affluent members to contribute to a scholarship fund. Most CSAs contribute food to the
emergency food supply. While no two CSAs are alike, most of them ask the members to help administer the
project or join in the farm work, and most use either organic or biodynamic growing methods.
Farmers who have adopted CSA find that selling their food directly to people with whom they have a long-term
relationship makes farming more satisfying. For some sharers, CSA is an economical way to get fresh, organic
produce and support a local farm. For others, CSA encompasses both political and spiritual significance, as
expressed by Josh Tenenbaum, a member of the Genesee Valley Organic CSA connected to my farm:
Although there are many terrible things happening in the world - war, poverty, environmental degradation even simple gestures, fight here, today, can have much effect. When we dig our hands into the brown, damp soil,
does not the entire earth tremble? We see that planting and weeding, building a community around sustainable
agriculture is the most fundamental peace work, on so many different levels. By joining the CSA, we directly
reduce the toxins normally used in food production, with the farmer, the soil and water healthier as a result. With
the small amount of time most of us have, it is good to support an endeavor which embraces not only our
families and communities, but the entire world.
The Battle Over Food Inequality: Community Food Security Coalition
"Food security represents a community need, rather than an individual's plight," writes Andy Fisher, one of the
founders of the Community Food Security Coalition. With Mark Winne of the Hartford Food System and Bob
Gottlieb of the UCLA Department of Urban Planning, Fisher invited activists and academics working on foodand agriculture-related issues from around the country to form a network and advocate for legislation to help
low-income communities become food secure. As they define it, community food security means "all persons in
a community have access to culturally acceptable, nutritionally adequate food through local non-emergency
sources at all times."
Working together with the National Campaign for Sustainable Agriculture, the CFS Coalition was able to pass
the Community Food Security Act as part of the 1996 Farm Bill. The Coalition has focused on training and
technical assistance for groups seeking funding under this legislation, while shaping its network into a national
The work of the Hartford Food System (HFS), a nonprofit organization in Connecticut, is a model for the
systemic approaches the Coalition encourages. Since 1978, HFS has worked to plan, develop and operate local
solutions for the city of Hartford's food problems. To help save area farmland by improving the earnings of local
farmers while increasing the supply of fresh, nutritious food for city people, HFS worked with Hartford city
agencies and community organizations to establish the Downtown Farmers Market, the first farmers market in
the state. The number of farmers markets in Connecticut has since swelled to forty-eight. To enable more lowincome people to shop at these markets and increase sales from local farms, HFS developed the Connecticut
Farmers Market Nutrition Program which annually provides over 50,000 low-income state residents with
$396,000 in special vouchers which they can only spend to purchase fresh produce from area farmers markets.
Since he helped initiate it in 1987 in Connecticut, Mark Winne has facilitated the spread of the Farmers Market
Nutrition Program all over the country with funding from the USDA.
In 1994, HFS linked up with Holcomb Farm, a town-owned farm 30 minutes away in Granby, Connecticut, to
establish a CSA. Half of the produce from the farm is sold as shares to suburban residents, while the other half
goes to low-income community groups in Hartford. One of these groups brings teenagers to pick at the farm and
then trains them to run farm stands where they sell their shares of the produce. HFS Program Director Elizabeth
Wheeler is working with the public schools in Hartford on Project Farm Fresh Start to find ways to incorporate
locally grown organic foods into the school lunch program. HFS has also helped bring new supermarkets to
inner city neighborhoods, and initiated city- and statewide food policy councils to plan for greater food security.
Making Farmworkers into Farmers: The Rural Development Center
Training farmworkers to become independent farmers is the main focus of the Rural Development Center
(RDC), founded by Jose Montenegro in 1985. Located on 112 acres of farmland in the Salinas Valley in
California, the center provides training and education to low-income people to give them the skills and
experience they need to run their own farms. Upon completion of a five-month course on agricultural production
and farm management, participants can use RDC land, water, equipment, and continuing technical support for up
to three years. Staff member Luis Sierra assists them in finding markets for their crops. Maria Ines Catalan was
one of the first trainees to try organic production methods and, with Sierra's help, in 1997 started a CSA with
thirty shares. Seventy to eighty families take part in RDC programs each year, and 84 percent of the graduates
leave to become independent farmers.
Against the Cammodification of Nature: The Land Institute
Located in the midst of the prairie in Salina, Kansas, the Land Institute is an independent research center for
sustainable agriculture. Founded by Wes and Dana Jackson in the late 1970s, the Sunshine Farm Project of the
Land Institute devoted itself to the development of agriculture based on renewable energy technologies. Through
careful observation of the natural prairie and the selection of promising varieties, Wes Jackson and his
colleagues seek to develop perennial grains so as to eliminate the need for the annual plowing and cultivation
which open up the soil to erosion. Regarded with great skepticism (if not worse) by the agricultural research
establishment in the early years, Jackson's work is taken much more seriously today.
From his podium in the prairie, Jackson speaks out as one of the most respected intellectual leaders of the
sustainable agriculture movement. In his essays and speeches, he enunciates a critique of reductionist science
and the industrial mind, and calls for the rule of humility over technology. His constant theme is the inadequacy
of the knowledge upon which science bases its decisions. A deeply spiritual man, Jackson upholds food as a
cultural, rather than an industrial, product, and fulminates against "the cammodification of nature." (See New
Roots far Agriculture, 1980, and Meeting the Expectations of the Land: Essays in Sustainable Agriculture and
Stewardship, 1984).
Uniting Family Farms: The National Farmers Union
Representing over 300,000 farmers in 24 states, the National Farmers Union (NFU) is second in size only to the
Farm Bureau. Like the Farm Bureau, the NFU puts a lot of energy into policy development and lobbying for its
members in Washington. Unlike the Farm Bureau, however, the NFU stands clearly for the interests of the
family farm and against the agribusiness multinationals. The NFU annually brings farmers to Washington to
lobby against concentration in the food industry and such initiatives as NAFTA and GATT, and for a floor price
and the Northeast dairy compact to raise milk prices to farmers, country-of-origin labeling, and a fair bargaining
law that would help farmers negotiate better terms from corporate integrators like Tyson and Perdue.
Back in the countryside, the NFU has taken a lead in organizing a number of the "new wave" farmer
cooperatives. Operational since 1993, the Dakota Growers Pasta Company in North Dakota has more than 1,000
member-growers from three states. This co-op provides jobs for 200 residents and represents cumulative
investments valued at $51 million. The Mountain View Harvest Cooperative held its grand opening in 1997.
Two hundred and twenty Colorado wheat producers pooled $5 million in resources to purchase a bakery and a
grain elevator. This year, the Wisconsin Farmers Union is launching a specialty cheese cooperative. Following a
European model, the project will produce a wide variety of premium-priced cheeses.
Opposing GATT and NAFTA: The Institute for Agriculture and Trade Policy
Founded in 1986, the Institute for Agriculture and Trade Policy (IATP), more than any other organization, was
responsible for arousing the agricultural community to the significance of GATT and NAFTA. As Institute
President Mark Ritchie describes its role, the progressive farm movement took the trade issue to a lot of other
movements, including the environmental movement, the labor movement, consumers, and others. The Institute
really helped catalyze and build a broader trade movement. Working with the NFU and other agricultural groups,
the Institute initiated the Fair Trade Campaign, and produced a tireless barrage of information, which came very
close to tipping the scales against the NAFTA.
Alongside its work as a resource center on trade policy, IATP's staff of eighteen coordinate a national "Farmerled Watershed Protection" network, work on the follow-up activities of the Rio de Janeiro Earth Summit and the
World Food Summit, and run a computer-based marketing program for sustainable farms. Their basic
assumption, in Ritchie's words, is that "if farmers can make a good living, they can farm sustainably and the
community can thrive." IATP also operates a for-profit business that imports organic and small-producer grown
coffee from Chiapas, Mexico and Guatemala, in conjunction with the Rigoberta Menchu Foundation. Since the
1970s, Mark Ritchie has been one of the clearest voices analyzing the destructive agricultural policies of this
country's public institutions. His little pamphlet, The Loss of our Family Farms: Inevitable Results or Conscious
Policies? has opened many eyes to the role of corporate interest groups in decimating the farming population.
To complement their concrete local organizing, most of the groups mentioned in this article are also involved in
public policy. Their successful collaboration resulted in the passage of the Low Input Sustainable Agriculture
Program (LISA) in 1985, and encouraged farming and environmental groups to cooperate more actively on
federal farm policy. (The LISA Program was later renamed the Sustainable Agriculture Research and Education
(SARE) Program.) Formed in 1987-88, the Midwest Sustainable Agriculture Working Group (MSAWG) set the
pattern for the other regions. By the time that work was started in Congress on the 1996 Farm Bill, there were
four regional and several state SAWGs. MSAWG is a network of thirty-five organizations established to create
policy proposals for agricultural research and extension, commodity programs, marketing and rural development,
and conservation and the environment. The members sign on to the policy proposals of their choice. Education
on these proposals and lobbying for them is done by the member organizations; the network itself has no staff. A
subset of twelve MSAWG member organizations willing to commit more dollars to direct policy work in
Washington also formed the Sustainable Agriculture Coalition. They employ Ferd Hoefner as their lobbyist in
D.C. to represent the formal positions of the Coalition to Congress.
After the 1990 Farm Bill, members of MSAWG called upon organizations from other parts of the country to
form a National Coordinating Council for Sustainable Agriculture. Hal Hamilton, a former dairy farmer and rural
development organizer from Kentucky, joined Chuck Hassebrook as co-chair. The council took as its main task
the coordination of a National Dialogue, a highly participatory process to create policy proposals for the 1996
Farm Bill. The Council invited appropriate organizations all over the country to submit proposals for discussion
at grassroots meetings. These diverse gatherings of farmers, environmentalists, academics, and food system
activists of all kinds reworked the proposals for a second, larger round of similar meetings. Representatives of
each regional SAWG and many national groups came together in Washington to finalize the proposals and set
priorities for a National Campaign for Sustainable Agriculture.(3) Participants voted according to how much
work their organizations could be expected to put forth on each policy. The proposals for which the most work
was pledged became the top priorities for the National Campaign. About equal weight was given to structure of
agriculture issues, preserving and enhancing the family farm, rural development, local control and
empowerment, and conservation and the environment.
Despite the unfriendly climate in Congress, the Campaign was successful during the 1996 Farm Bill negotiations
in coordinating enough grassroots lobbying through telephone trees, action alerts, and organized group visits to
preserve existing sustainable agriculture programs. These included SARE, the outreach program for socially
disadvantaged farmers, the Farmers Market Nutrition Coupon Program, and the Alternative Technology Transfer
for Rural Areas program (ATTRA). A surprising victory was the addition of the Community Food Security Act.
The congressional rush to phase out all price supports to farmers swept aside the Campaign's attempt to capture
the big money by transforming commodity payments into a system of green payments, similar to current
experiments in Europe. However, elements of campaign proposals survived in the Fund for Rural America and
the Conservation Farm Option. With the passage of the 1996 Farm Bill, the Campaign restructured for the long
run as a national policy network committed to keeping up the pressure on Congress and the USDA at the level of
both appropriations and close oversight of implementation.
From an initial focus on farm production, the movement's vision has broadened. Sustainable agriculture ripples
out in ever-expanding circles from the soil of a single field to the whole farm, to the watershed and community
around it, and to the economic relations and quality of life of everyone involved in the food system. The people
in this movement see local control of food production as basic to sustainability as a whole and to the survival of
democracy. A few of those involved feel so powerless that they turn their backs on broader issues and take
refuge from the troubles around them by cultivating their own gardens. But many more see two possible
pathways ahead. If people choose obedience to the commercial catechism and vote with their dollars for
convenience in the supermarket, the bread on our tables will be manufactured from grains genetically engineered
and patented by Monsanto, shipped by Cargill from wherever it is cheapest to grow, and sold to those of us who
can afford it under a familiar label actually owned by Philip Morris, Archer Daniels Midland, or Mitsui-Cook.
By this path, the multinationals will maximize their profits regardless of the immediate and ultimate costs to
family farmers, low-income families, or the environment.
The movement for sustainable agriculture offers an alternative path. If enough people organize to take control of
local resources, a local or regional food system becomes possible. This will be a system based on farms and
gardens, of many sizes, growing food in the most ecologically sensitive way, compensating farmers and
farmworkers with decent wages, respect, and safe working conditions, and distributing its benefits fairly so that
everyone can enjoy fresh, nutritious, safe food regardless of their ability to pay. Seen in this context food
becomes political. Every direct purchase from a local farmer becomes an act of fair trade, and every square foot
of home garden, every family-owned farm, and every value-adding cooperative becomes a small piece of
liberated territory in the struggle for a just and sustainable society.
Although most on the left would find resonance in the alternative path discussed in the last paragraph of the
article, they may think that the key tactics chosen by activists at the grassroots are insufficient to mount a
systemic critique of corporate agriculture and liberal capitalist economics as a whole. By adding value to their
products through cooperative efforts or on individual farms (producing pasta from wheat or cheese from milk)
and by direct marketing to the public, farmers will in a sense have partially withdrawn from the current system
and captured more of the value of their products. And by making direct connections between farmers and urban
residents, along with a variety of other efforts, the poor will have better access to nutritious foods. Activists must
help people confront immediate day-to-day problems in their lives. Yet a left analysis would question whether
this pathway is really a solution to the problems or rather something that will produce only a minor irritant to
corporate dominance of the food system. A complete transformation of the agriculture and food system, it might
be argued, requires a complete transformation of the society. On the other hand, any attempt to create a more
humane, just, and ecologically rational society will have to embrace the struggle for sustainable agriculture.
- The Editors
1. The National Campaign for Sustainable Agriculture can be reached at P.O. Box 396, Pine Bush, N.Y. 12566,
(914) 744-8448, FAX: (914) 744-8477; e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.com.
2. The NOFA-sponsored CSA Farm Network for 1997, funded by NE SARE, lists over 200 CSAs in the ten
northeast states. CSA Farm Network is available from NOFA-NY, P.O. Box 21, South Butler, NY 13154, for
$10, plus $2 postage. The Biodynamic Association (P.O. Box 550, Kimberton, PA. 19442) maintains a national
database of CSAs with over 600 listings nationwide. You can get the listing for your state by calling 1-800-5167797.
Chapter Eleven
"Scouting has some unacceptables," the Executive Director of the Jersey Shore Council of the Boy Scouts of
America told me, "and one of them is hunger." We were talking in the entrance to the Ciba Geigy company
cafeteria in Toms River, New Jersey, where several hundred Boy Scouts, their parents, grandparents, siblings,
and neighbors were sorting and packing the 280,000 pounds of canned goods that the scouts of this Council had
netted in their 1994 Scouting For Food drive. The food would be stored on the Ciba Geigy corporate campus,
where downsizing had left a number of buildings empty, and redistributed to local food pantries to be passed
along to the hungry. The scouting executive was one of several hundred people I interviewed as part of a study
of charitable food programs - so called "emergency food" - in the United States. In the years since the early
1980s, literally millions of Americans have been drawn into such projects: soup kitchens and food pantries on
the front lines, and canned goods drives, food banks, and "food rescue" projects that supply them.
What makes hunger in America unacceptable, to Boy Scouts and to the rest of us, is the extraordinary abundance
produced by American agriculture. There is no shortage of food here, and everybody knows it. In fact, for much
of this century, national agricultural policy has been preoccupied with surplus, and individual Americans have
been preoccupied with avoiding, losing, or hiding the corporeal effects of overeating. Collectively, and for the
most part individually, we have too much food, not too little. To make matters worse, we waste food in
spectacular quantities. A study recently released by USDA estimates that between production and end use, more
than a quarter of the food produced in the U.S. goes to waste, from fields planted but not harvested to the bread
molding on top of my refrigerator or the lettuce wilting at the back of the vegetable bin. Farm waste, transport
waste, processor waste, wholesaler waste, supermarket waste, institutional waste, household waste, plate waste;
together in 1995 they totaled a startling 96 billion pounds, or 365 pounds - a pound a day - for every person in
the nation.
The connection between abundant production and food waste on the one hand, and hunger on the other, is not
merely abstract and philosophical. Both public and private food assistance efforts in this country have been
shaped by efforts to find acceptable outlets for food that would otherwise go to waste. These include the wheat
surpluses stockpiled by Herbert Hoover's Federal Farm Board and belatedly given to the Red Cross for
distribution to the unemployed, the martyred piglets of New Deal agricultural adjustment (which led to the
establishment of federal surplus commodity distribution), and the cheese that Ronald Reagan finally donated to
the needy to quell the criticism of mounting storage costs. Accumulation of large supplies of food in public
hands, especially in times of economic distress and privation, has repeatedly resulted in the creation of public
programs to distribute the surplus to the hungry. And in the private sphere as well, a great deal of the food that
supplies today's soup kitchens and food pantries is food that would otherwise end up as waste: corporate
overproduction or labeling errors donated to the food bank, farm and orchard extras gleaned by volunteers after
the commercial harvest, and the vast quantities of leftovers generated by hospital, school, government and
corporate cafeterias, and caterers and restaurants. All of this is food that is now rescued and recycled through the
type of food recovery programs urged by Vice President Al Gore and Agriculture Secretary Dan Glickman at
their 1997 National Summit on Food Recovery and Gleaning. "There is simply no excuse for hunger in the most
agriculturally abundant country in the world," said Glickman, who urged a 33 percent increase in food recovery
by the year 2000 that would enable social service agencies to feed an additional 450,000 Americans each day.
For Americans reared as members of the "clean plate club" and socialized to associate our own uneaten food
with hunger in faraway places, such programs have enormous appeal. They provide a sort of moral relief from
the discomfort that ensues when we are confronted with images of hunger in our midst, or when we are reminded
of the excesses of consumption that characterize our culture. They offer what appear to be old-fashioned moral
absolutes in a sea of shifting values and ethical uncertainties. Many of the volunteers I interviewed for my study
told me that they felt that their work at the soup kitchen or food pantry was the one unequivocally good thing in
their lives, the one point in the week in which they felt sure they were on the side of the angels. Furthermore,
they perceive hunger as one problem that is solvable - precisely because of the abundant production - one
problem about which they can do something concrete and meaningful. "Hunger has a cure," is the new slogan
developed by the Ad Council for Second Harvest, the National Network of Foodbanks. It is not surprising, then,
that hunger in America has demonstrated an enormous capacity to mobilize both public and private action. There
are fourteen separate federal food assistance programs, numerous state and local programs, and thousands upon
thousands of local, private charitable feeding projects which elicit millions of hours of volunteer time as well as
enormous quantities of donated funds and food. In one random survey in the early 1990s, nearly four fifths of
respondents indicated that they, personally, had done something to alleviate hunger in their communities in the
previous year.
Progressives have not been immune to the lure of hunger-as-the-problem. We have been drawn into the antihunger crusade for several reasons. First, hunger in America shows with great clarity the absurdity of our
distribution system, of capitalism's approach to meeting basic human needs. Poor people routinely suffer for
want of things that are produced in abundance in this country, things that gather dust in warehouses and
inventories, but the bicycles and personal computers that people desire and could use are not perishable and
hence are not rotting in front of their eyes in defiance of their bellies. The Great Depression of the 1930s, with its
startling contrasts of agricultural surpluses and widespread hunger, made this terrible irony excruciatingly clear,
and many people were able to perceive the underlying economic madness: "A breadline knee-deep in wheat,"
observed commentator James Crowther, "is surely the handiwork of foolish men." Progressives are attracted to
hunger as an issue because it reveals in so powerful a way the fundamental shortcomings of unbridled reliance
on markets.
Second, progressives are drawn to hunger as a cause by its emotional salience, its capacity to arouse sympathy
and mobilize action. Hunger is, as George McGovern once pointed out, "the cutting edge of poverty," the form
of privation that is at once the easiest to imagine, the most immediately painful, and the most far-reaching in its
damaging consequences. McGovern was writing in the aftermath of the dramatic rediscovery of hunger in
America that occurred in the late 1960s when a Senate subcommittee, holding hearings on anti-poverty programs
in Mississippi, encountered the harsh realities of economic and political deprivation in the form of empty
cupboards and malnourished children in the Mississippi Delta. Hunger was in the news, and journalist Nick Kotz
reports that a coalition of civil rights and anti-poverty activists made a conscious decision to keep it there. They
perceived in hunger "the one problem to which the public might respond. They reasoned that 'hunger' made a
higher moral claim than any of the other problems of poverty." The anti-hunger movement - or "hunger lobby"
that they initiated - was successful in enlisting Congressional support for a major expansion of food assistance
and the gradual creation of a food entitlement through food stamps, the closest thing to a guaranteed income that
we have ever had in this country.
The broad appeal of the hunger issue and its ability to evoke action are also visible in the more recent
proliferation of emergency food programs. "I think the reason ... that you get the whole spectrum of people
involved in this is because it's something that is real basic for people to relate to. You know, you're busy, you
skip lunch, you feel hungry. On certain levels, everyone has experienced feeling hungry at some point in the day
or the year," explained Ellen Teller, an attorney with the Food Research and Action Center whose work brings
her into frequent contact with both emergency food providers and anti-hunger policy advocates. The food
program staff and volunteers I interviewed recognized the difference between their own, essentially voluntary
and temporary hunger and hunger that is externally imposed and of unpredictable duration, but the reservoir of
common human experience is there. Hunger is not exotic and hard to imagine; it stems from the failure to meet a
basic and incontrovertible need that we all share.
Furthermore, the failure to eliminate hunger has enormous consequences. As the research on the link between
nutrition and cognition mounts, the social costs of failing to ensure adequate nutrition for pregnant women and
young children become starkly obvious. And this, too, contributes to the broad spectrum that Ellen Teller
mentioned. There is something for everyone here - a prudent investment in human capital for those concerned
about the productivity of the labor force of tomorrow, a prevention of suffering for the tender hearted, a unifying
concern for would-be organizers, a blatant injustice for critics of our social structure. Many anti-hunger
organizations with relatively sophisticated critiques of the structural roots of hunger in America have engaged
with the "feeding movement," the soup kitchens and the food pantries, in the belief that, as the Bread for the
World Institute once put it, "Hunger can be the 'door' through which people enter an introduction to larger
problems of poverty, powerlessness, and distorted public values." For those progressives seeking common
ground with a wider range of American opinion, hunger is an attractive issue precisely because of the breadth of
the political spectrum of people who are moved by it.
Third, progressives have been drawn into the hunger lobby by the utility of hunger as a means of resisting, or at
least documenting the effects of, government cuts in entitlements. In the early 1980s, especially, when Ronald
Reagan began his presidential assault on the nation's meager safety net of entitlement programs for the poor,
progressives of all sorts pointed to the lengthening soup kitchen lines as evidence that the cuts in income
supports, housing subsidies, food assistance, and a host of other public programs were cuts that neither the poor
nor the society could afford. While Reagan and his team claimed that they were simply stripping away waste and
fat from bloated programs, critics on the left kept track of mounting use of emergency food programs as a means
of documenting the suffering caused by the erosion of the welfare state. The scenario is being replayed, this time
amid an expanding economy, as soup kitchens and food pantries register the effects of "the end of welfare as we
know it."
Finally, of course, progressives are drawn to the hunger issue by a sense of solidarity with those in need. Most of
us became progressives in the first place because we cared about people and wanted a fairer society that would
produce less suffering. Few of us can stomach an argument that says that we should leave the hungry to suffer
without aid while we work for a more just future. "People don't eat in the long run," Franklin Roosevelt's relief
czar Harry Hopkins is reported to have said; "they eat every day." Many of the more activist and progressive
people I interviewed in the course of my emergency food study articulated similar sentiments. A woman who
worked in the early eighties helping churches and community groups in southern California set up soup kitchens
and food pantries to cope with the fallout from the budget cuts in Washington recalled the dilemma as she had
experienced it. "As far as I was concerned, the people in Washington had blood on their hands ... but I wasn't
going to stand by and watch people suffer just to make a political point." As one long-time left activist in Santa
Cruz put it when questioned about her work as a member of the local food bank board, "There are numbers of
people who are very compatible with my radical philosophy who also feel that foodbanking is very important,
because the reality is that there are ever increasing homeless and poor, including working poor, who need to be
fed ... the need for food has increased and the resources for providing it haven't. And if there weren't foodbanks,
I think a lot of people would starve."
It is easy to see why progressive people have been drawn into anti-hunger activity in large numbers, and why
they have been attracted to the soup kitchens, food pantries, and food banks, despite misgivings about these
private charitable projects. I, personally, have counted myself an anti-hunger activist since the nation
rediscovered hunger in the late 1960s. Nevertheless, after three decades in the "hunger lobby," and nearly a
decade of observing and interviewing in soup kitchens, food pantries, food banks, and food recovery projects, I
would like to offer a caution about defining hunger as the central issue.
The very emotional response that makes hunger a good organizing issue, and the felt absurdity of such want
amid massive waste, makes our society vulnerable to token solutions - solutions that simply link together
complementary symptoms without disturbing the underlying structural problems. The New Deal surplus
commodity distribution program, which laid the political and administrative groundwork for most subsequent
federal food programs, purchased surplus agricultural commodities from impoverished farmers in danger of
going on relief and distributed them to the unemployed already receiving public help. It responded to what
Walter Lippmann once called the "sensational and the intolerable paradox of want in the midst of abundance,"
by using a portion of the surplus to help some of the needy, without fundamentally changing the basis for access
to food. As Norman Thomas put it in 1936, "We have not had a reorganization of production and a redistribution
of income to end near starvation in the midst of potential plenty. If we do not have such obvious 'breadlines knee
deep in wheat' as under the Hoover administration, it is because we have done more to reduce the wheat and
systematize the giving of crusts than to end hunger."
For the general public, however, the surplus commodity programs were "common sense," and they made well
fed people feel better. Few asked how much of the surplus was being transferred to the hungry, or how much of
their hunger was thus relieved. As the New York Times predicted in an editorial welcoming the program: "It will
relieve our minds of the distressing paradox." And with the moral pressure relieved, with consciences eased, the
opportunity for more fundamental action evaporated. Thus the token program served to preserve the underlying
status quo.
Something very similar appears to be happening with the private food rescue, gleaning, and other surplus
transfer programs that have expanded and proliferated to supply emergency food programs since the early 1980s.
The constant fund-raising and food drives that characterize such programs keep them in the public eye, and few
people ask whether the scale of the effort is proportional to the scale of the need. With the Boy Scouts collecting
in the fall and the letter carriers in the spring, with the convenient barrel at the grocery store door and the
opportunity to "check out hunger" at the checkout counter, with the Taste of the Nation and the enormous array
of other hunger-related fundraisers, with the Vice President and the Secretary of Agriculture assuring us that we
can simultaneously feed more people and reduce waste through food recovery, with all this highly visible
activity, it is easy to assume that the problem is under control. The double whammy, the moral bargain of
feeding the hungry and preventing waste, makes us feel better, thus reducing the discomfort that might motivate
more fundamental action. The same emotional salience that makes hunger so popular a cause in the first place
makes us quick to relieve our own discomfort by settling for token solutions.
In the contemporary situation, the danger of such tokenism is even more acute. There is more at stake than the
radicalizing potential of the contradictions of waste amid want. The whole fragile commitment to public income
supports and entitlements is in jeopardy. Food programs not only make the well fed feel better, they reassure us
that no one will starve, even if the nation ends welfare and cuts gaping holes in the food stamp safety net. By
creating an image of vast, decentralized, kindhearted effort, an image that is fueled by every fund-raising letter
or event, every canned goods drive, every hunger walk, run, bike, swim, or golf-a-thon, every concert or
screening or play where a can of food reduces the price of admission, we allow the right wing to destroy the
meager protections of the welfare state and undo the New Deal. Ironically, these public appeals have the effect
of creating such comforting assurances even for those who do not contribute.
Promoting hunger as a public issue, of course, does not necessarily imply support for the private, voluntary
approach. There are undoubtedly social democrats and other progressives who support expanded food
entitlements without endorsing the emergency food phenomenon. Unfortunately, however, much of the public
makes little distinction. If we raise the issue of hunger, we have no control over just how people will choose to
respond. As the network of food banks, food rescue organizations, food pantries, and soup kitchens has grown,
so have the chances that people confronted with evidence of hunger in their midst will turn to such programs in
an effort to help.
Many private food charities make a point of asserting that they are not a substitute for public food assistance
programs and entitlements. Nearly every food banker and food pantry director I interviewed made some such
claim, and the national organizations that coordinate such projects, Second Harvest, Food Chain, Catholic
Charities, even the Salvation Army, are on record opposing cuts in public food assistance and specifying their
own role as supplementary. When it is time to raise funds, however, such organizations, from the lowliest food
pantry in the church basement to national organizations with high-powered fund raising consultants or
departments, tend to compare themselves with public programs in ways that reinforce the ideology of
privatization. You simply cannot stress the low overhead, efficiency, and cost effectiveness of using donated
time to distribute donated food without feeding into the right-wing critique of public programs in general and
entitlements in particular. The same fund-raising appeals that reassure the public that no one will starve, even if
public assistance is destroyed, convince many that substitution of charitable food programs for public
entitlements might be a good idea.
Furthermore, as the programs themselves have invested in infrastructure - in walk-in freezers and refrigerated
trucks, in institutional stoves and office equipment, in pension plans and health insurance - their stake in the
continuation of their efforts has grown as well, and with it, their need for continuous fund raising, and thus for
the perpetuation of hunger as an issue. While many food bankers and food recovery staff argue that there would
be a role for their organizations even if this society succeeded in eliminating hunger, that their products also go
to improve the meal quality at senior citizen centers or lower the cost of day care and rehabilitation programs,
they clearly realize that they need hunger as an issue in order to raise their funds. Cost effectiveness and efficient
service delivery, even the prevention of waste, simply do not have the same ability to elicit contributions.
Hunger is, in effect, their bread and butter. The result is a degree of hoopla, of attention getting activity, that I
sometimes think of as the commodification of hunger. As Laura DeLind pointed out in her insightful article
entitled "Celebrating Hunger in Michigan," the hunger industry has become extraordinarily useful to major
corporate interests, but even without such public relations and other benefits to corporate food and financial
donors, hunger has become a "product" that enables its purveyors to compete successfully for funds in a sort of
social issues marketplace. It does not require identification with despised groups - as does AIDS, for example. Its
remedy is not far off, obscure, or difficult to imagine - like the cure for cancer. The emotional salience discussed
above, and the broad spectrum of people who have been recruited to this cause in one way or another, make
hunger - especially the soup kitchen, food pantry, food recycling version of hunger - a prime commodity in the
fund-raising industry, and a handy, inoffensive outlet for the do-gooding efforts of high school community
service programs and corporate public relations offices, of synagogues and churches, of the Boy Scouts and the
Letter Carriers, of the Rotarians and the Junior League: the taming of hunger.
As we institutionalize and expand the response, of course, we also institutionalize and reinforce the problem
definition that underlies it. Sociologists have long argued that the definitional stage is the crucial period in the
career of a social problem. Competing definitions vie for attention, and the winners shape the solutions and
garner the resources. It is important, therefore, to understand the competing definitions of the situation that
"hunger" crowds out. What is lost from public view, from our operant consciousness, as we work to end hunger?
In short, defining the problem as hunger contributes to the obfuscation of the underlying problems of poverty
and inequality. Many poor people are indeed hungry, but hunger, like homelessness and a host of other
problems, is a symptom, not a cause, of poverty. And poverty, in turn, in an affluent society like our own, is
fundamentally a product of inequality.
Defining the problem as hunger ignores a whole host of other needs. Poor people need food, but they also need
housing, transportation, clothing, medical care, meaningful work, opportunities for civic and political
participation, and recreation. By focusing on hunger, we imply that the food portion of this complex web of
human needs can be met independently of the rest, can be exempted or protected from the overall household
budget deficit. As anyone who has ever tried to get by on a right budget can tell you, however, life is not so
compartmentalized. Poor people are generally engaged in a daily struggle to stretch inadequate resources over a
range of competing demands. The "heat-or-eat" dilemma that arises in the winter months, or the situation
reported by many elderly citizens of a constant necessity to choose between food and medications are common
manifestations of this reality.
In this situation, if we make food assistance easier to obtain than other forms of aid - help with the rent, for
example, or the heating bill - then people will devise a variety of strategies to use food assistance to meet other
needs. It is not really difficult to convert food stamps to cash: pick up a few items at the store for a neighbor, pay
with your stamps, collect from her in cash. Some landlords will accept them, at a discounted rate of course, then
convert them through a friend or relative who owns a grocery store. Drug dealers will also accept them, again at
lower than face value, and you can resell the drugs for cash. The list goes on and on. Converting soup kitchen
meals is almost impossible, but there are items in many pantry bags that can be resold. In either case, eating at
the soup kitchen or collecting a bag from the food pantry frees up cash for other needs, not only the rent, but also
a birthday present for a child or a new pair of shoes. By offering help with food, but refusing help with other
urgent needs, we are setting up a situation in which poor people are almost required to take steps to convert food
assistance to cash.
Conservative critics of entitlements will then seize on these behaviors to argue that poor people are "not really
hungry." If they were really hungry, the argument goes, they would not resell items from the pantry bag or
convert their food stamps. Such behavioral evidence fits into a whole ideologically driven perception that
programs for poor people are bloated, too generous, and full of fraud and abuse; it allows conservatives to cut
programs while asserting that they are preserving a safety net for the "truly needy." Progressives meanwhile are
forced into a defensive position in which we argue that people are indeed "really hungry," thereby giving tacit
assent to the idea that the elimination of hunger is the appropriate goal. In a society as wealthy as ours, however,
aiming simply to eliminate hunger is aiming too low. We not only want a society in which no one suffers acute
hunger or fails to take full advantage of educational and work opportunities due to inadequate nutrition. We want
a society in which no one is excluded, by virtue of poverty, from full participation, in which no one is too poor to
provide a decent life for their children, no one is too poor to pursue happiness. By defining the problem as
"hunger," we set too low a standard for ourselves.
The question of where we should direct our organizational efforts is inextricably tied up with the underlying
issue of inequality. Above some absolute level of food and shelter, need is a thoroughly relative phenomenon. In
an affluent society, the quality of life available at a given level of income has everything to do with how far from
the mainstream that level is, with the extent to which any given income can provide a life that looks and feels
"normal" to its occupants. In many warm parts of the world, children routinely go barefoot, and no mother would
feel driven to convert food resources into cash to buy a pair of shoes, or to demean herself by seeking a charity
handout to provide them. In the United States, where children are bombarded with hours of television advertising
daily, and where apparel manufacturers trade on "coolness," a mother may well make the rounds of local food
pantries, swallowing her pride and subsisting on handouts, to buy not just a pair of shoes, but a particular name
brand that her child has been convinced is essential for social acceptance at the junior high school.
In this context, the issue is not whether people have enough to survive, but how far they are from the median and
the mainstream, and that is a matter of how unequal our society has become. By every measure, inequality has
increased in the United States, dramatically, since the early 1970s, with a small group at the top garnering an
ever increasing share of net marketable worth, and the bottom doing less and less well. And it is this growing
inequality which explains the crying need for soup kitchens and food banks today, even at a relatively high level
of employment that reflects the current peak in the business cycle. Unfortunately, however, a concept like hunger
is far easier to understand, despite its ambiguities of definition, than an abstraction like inequality. Furthermore,
Americans have not generally been trained to understand the language of inequality nor the tools with which it is
measured. Just what is net marketable worth, and do I have any? As the statistics roll off the press, eyes glaze
over, and the kindhearted turn to doing something concrete, to addressing a problem they know they can do
something about: hunger. Once they begin, and get caught up in the engrossing practical challenges of
transferring food to the hungry and the substantial emotional gratifications of doing so, they lose sight of the
larger issue of inequality. The gratifications inherent in "feeding the hungry" give people a stake in maintaining
the definition of the problem as hunger; the problem definition comes to be driven by the available and visible
response in a sort of double helix.
Meanwhile, with anti-hunger activists diverted by the demands of ever larger emergency food systems, the
ascendant conservatives are freer than ever to dismantle the fragile income protections that remain and to adjust
the tax system to concentrate ever greater resources at the top. The people who want more inequality are getting
it, and well-meaning people are responding to the resulting deprivation by handing out more and more pantry
bags, and dishing up more and more soup. It is time to find ways to shift the discourse from undernutrition to
unfairness, from hunger to inequality.
Chapter Twelve
Our global food system is in the midst of a multifaceted crisis, with ecological, economic, and social dimensions.
To overcome that crisis, political and social changes are needed to allow the widespread development of
The current food system is productivethere should be no doubt about thatas per capita food produced in the
world has increased by 15 percent over the past thirty-five years. But as that production is in ever fewer hands,
and costs ever more in economic and ecological terms, it becomes harder and harder to address the basic
problems of hunger and food access in the short term, let alone in a sustainable fashion. In the last twenty years
the number of hungry people in the worldexcluding Chinahas risen by 60 million (by contrast, in China the
number of hungry people has fallen dramatically).
Ecologically, there are impacts of industrial-style farming on groundwater through pesticide and fertilizer runoff,
on biodiversity through the spread of monoculture and a narrowing genetic base, and on the very capacity of
agroecosystems to be productive into the future.
Economically, production costs rise as farmers are forced to use ever more expensive machines and farm
chemicals, while crop prices continue a several-decade-long downward trend, causing a cost-price squeeze
which has led to the loss of untold tens of millions of farmers worldwide to bankruptcies. Socially, we have the
concentration of farmland in fewer and fewer hands as low crop prices make farming on a small scale
unprofitable (despite higher per acre total productivity of small farms), and agribusiness corporations extend
their control over more and more basic commodities.
Clearly the dominant corporate food system is not capable of adequately addressing the needs of people or of the
environment. Yet there are substantial obstacles to the widespread adoption of alternatives. The greatest
obstacles are presented by political-corporate power and vested interests, yet at times the psychological barrier to
believing that the alternatives can work seems almost as difficult to overcome. The oft-repeated challenge is:
"Could organic farming (or agroecology, local production, small farms, farming without pesticides) ever really
feed the entire population of a country?" Recent Cuban historythe overcoming of a food crisis through selfreliance, small farms and agroecological technologyshows us that the alternatives can indeed feed a nation,
and thus provides a crucial case study for the ongoing debate.
Economic development in Cuba was molded by two external forces between the 1959 revolution and the 198990 collapse of trading relations with the Soviet bloc. One was the U.S. trade embargo, part of an effort to isolate
the island economically and politically. The other was Cuba's entry into the Soviet bloc's international trade
alliance with relatively favorable terms of trade. The U.S. embargo essentially forced Cuba to turn to the Soviet
bloc, while the terms of trade offered by the latter opened the possibility of more rapid development on the
island than in the rest of Latin America and the Caribbean.
Thus Cuba was able to achieve a more complete and rapid modernization than most other developing countries.
In the 1980s it ranked number one in the region in the contribution of industry to its economy and it had a more
mechanized agricultural sector than any other Latin American country. Nevertheless, some of the same
contradictions that modernization produced in other third world countries were apparent in Cuba, with Cuba's
development model proving ultimately to be of the dependent type. Agriculture was defined by extensive
monocrop production of export crops and a heavy dependence on imported agrichemicals, hybrid seeds,
machinery, and petroleum. While industrialization was substantial by regional standards, Cuban industry
depended on many imported inputs.
The Cuban economy as a whole was thus characterized by the contradiction between its relative modernity and
its function in the Soviet bloc's division of labor as a supplier of raw agricultural commodities and minerals, and
a net importer of both manufactured goods and foodstuffs. In contrast to the situation faced by most third world
countries, this international division of labor actually brought significant benefits to the Cuban people. Prior to
the collapse of the socialist bloc, Cuba had achieved high marks for per capita GNP, nutrition, life expectancy,
and women in higher education, and was ranked first in Latin America for the availability of doctors, low infant
mortality, housing, secondary school enrollment, and attendance by the population at cultural events.
The Cuban achievements were made possible by a combination of the government's commitment to social equity
and the fact that Cuba received far more favorable terms of trade for its exports than did the hemisphere's other
developing nations. During the 1980s Cuba received an average price for its sugar exports to the Soviet Union
that was 5.4 times higher than the world price. Cuba also was able to obtain Soviet petroleum in return, part of
which was re-exported to earn convertible currency. Because of the favorable terms of trade for sugar, its
production far outweighed that of food crops. About three times as much land was devoted to sugar in 1989 as
was used for food crops, contributing to a pattern of food dependency, with as much as 57 percent of the total
calories in the Cuban diet coming from imports.
The revolutionary government had inherited an agricultural production system strongly focused on export crops
grown on highly concentrated land. The first agrarian reform of 1959 converted most of the large cattle ranches
and sugarcane plantations into state farms. Under the second agrarian reform in 1962, the state took control of 63
percent of all cultivated land.
Even before the revolution, individual peasant producers were a small part of the agricultural scene. The rural
economy was dominated by export plantations, and the population as a whole was highly urbanized. That pattern
intensified in subsequent years, and by the late 1980s fully 69 percent of the island's population lived in urban
areas. As late as 1994 some 80 percent of the nation's agricultural land consisted of large state farms, which
roughly correspond to the expropriated plantation holdings of the pre-revolutionary era. Only 20 percent of the
agricultural land was in the hands of small farmers, split almost equally among individual holders and
cooperatives, yet this 20 percent produced more than 40 percent of domestic food production. The state farm
sector and a substantial portion of the cooperatives were highly modernized, with large areas of monocrops
worked under heavy mechanization, fertilizer and pesticide use, and large-scale irrigation. This style of farming,
originally copied from the advanced capitalist countries by the Soviet Union, was highly dependent on imports
of machinery, petroleum, and chemicals. When trade collapsed with the socialist bloc, the degree to which Cuba
relied on monocrop agriculture proved to be a major weakness of the revolution.
When trade relations with the Soviet bloc crumbled in late 1989 and 1990, the situation turned desperate. In
1991 the government declared the "Special Period in Peacetime," which basically put the country on a wartime
economy style austerity program. There was an immediate 53 percent reduction in oil imports that not only
affected fuel availability for the economy, but also reduced to zero the foreign exchange that Cuba had formerly
obtained via the re-export of petroleum. Imports of wheat and other grains for human consumption dropped by
more than 50 percent, while other foodstuffs declined even more. Cuban agriculture was faced with a drop of
more than 80 percent in the availability of fertilizers and pesticides, and more than 50 percent in fuel and other
energy sources produced by petroleum.
Suddenly, a country with an agricultural sector technologically similar to California's found itself almost without
chemical inputs, with sharply reduced access to fuel and irrigation, and with a collapse in food imports. In the
early 1990s average daily caloric and protein intake by the Cuban population may have been as much as 30
percent below levels in the 1980s. Fortunately, Cuba was not totally unprepared to face the critical situation that
arose after 1989. It had, over the years, emphasized the development of human resources, and therefore had a
cadre of scientists and researchers who could come forward with innovative ideas to confront the crisis. While
Cuba has only 2 percent of the population of Latin America, it has almost 11 percent of the scientists.
In response to this crisis the Cuban government launched a national effort to convert the nation's agricultural
sector from high input agriculture to low input, self-reliant farming practices on an unprecedented scale. Because
of the drastically reduced availability of chemical inputs, the state hurried to replace them with locally produced,
and in most cases biological, substitutes. This has meant biopesticides (microbial products) and natural enemies
to combat insect pests, resistant plant varieties, crop rotations and microbial antagonists to combat plant
pathogens, and better rotations, and cover cropping to suppress weeds. Synthetic fertilizers have been replaced
by biofertilizers, earthworms, compost, other organic fertilizers, natural rock phosphate, animal and green
manures, and the integration of grazing animals. In place of tractors, for which fuel, tires, and spare parts were
largely unavailable, there has been a sweeping return to animal traction.
When the collapse of trade and subsequent scarcity of inputs occurred in 1989-90, yields fell drastically
throughout the country. The first problem was that of producing without synthetic chemical inputs or tractors.
Gradually the national ox herd was built up to provide animal traction as a substitute for tractors, and the
production of biopesticides and biofertilizers was rapidly stepped up. Finally, a series of methods like
vermicomposting (earthworm composting) of residues and green manuring became widespread. But the impact
of these technological changes across sub-sectors of Cuban agriculture was highly variable. The drop-off of
yields in the state sector industrial-style farms that average thousands of hectares has been resistant to recovery,
with production seriously stagnating well below pre-crisis levels for exports crops. Yet the small farm or peasant
sector (20 percent of farmed land) responded rapidly by quickly boosting production above previous levels. How
can we explain the difference between the state- and small-farm sectors?
It really was not all that difficult for the small farm sector to effectively produce with fewer inputs. After all,
today's small farmers are the descendants of generations of small farmers, with long family and community
traditions of low-input production. They basically did two things: remembered the old techniqueslike
intercropping and manuringthat their parents and grandparents had used before the advent of modern
chemicals, and simultaneously incorporated new biopesticides and biofertilizers into their production practices.
The problems of the state sector, on the other hand, were a combination of low worker productivity, a problem
pre-dating the Special Period, and the complete inability of these immense and technified management units to
adapt to low-input technology. With regard to the productivity problem, planners became aware several years
ago that the organization of work on state farms was profoundly alienating in terms of the relationship between
the agricultural worker and the land. Large farms of thousands of hectares had their work forces organized into
teams that would prepare the soil in one area, move on to plant another, weed still another, and later harvest an
altogether different area. Almost never would the same person both plant and harvest the same area. Thus no one
ever had to confront the consequences of doing something badly or, conversely, enjoy the fruits of his or her own
In an effort to create a more intimate relationship between farm workers and the land, and to tie financial
incentives to productivity, the government began several years ago to experiment with a program called "linking
people with the land." This system made small work teams directly responsible for all aspects of production in a
given parcel of land, allowing remuneration to be directly linked to productivity. The new system was tried
before the Special Period on a number of state farms, and rapidly led to enormous increases in production.
Nevertheless it was not widely implemented at the time.
In terms of technology, scale effects are very different for conventional chemical management and for low
external input alternatives. Under conventional systems, a single technician can manage several thousand
hectares on a "recipe" basis by simply writing out instructions for a particular fertilizer formula or pesticide to be
applied with machinery on the entire area. Not so for agroecological farming. Whoever manages the farm must
be intimately familiar with the ecological heterogeneity of each individual patch of soil. The farmer must know,
for example, where organic matter needs to be added, and where pest and natural enemy refuges and entry points
are. This partially explains the inability of the state sector to raise yields with alternative inputs. Like the
productivity issue, it can only be effectively addressed through a re-linking of people with the land.
By mid-1993, the state was faced with a complex reality. Imported inputs were largely unavailable, but
nevertheless the small farmer sector had effectively adapted to low input production (although a secondary
problem was acute in this sector, namely diversion of produce to the black market). The state sector, on the other
hand, was proving itself to be an ineffective "white elephant" in the new historical conjuncture, incapable of
adjusting. The earlier success of the experimental "linking" program, however, and the success of the peasant
sector, suggested a way out. In September 1993 Cuba began radically reorganizing its production in order to
create the small-scale management units that are essential for effective organic-style farming. This
reorganization has centered on the privatization and cooperativization of the unwieldy state sector.
The process of linking people with the land thus culminated in 1993, when the Cuban government issued a
decree terminating the existence of state farms, turning them into Basic Units of Cooperative Production
(UBPCs), a form of worker-owned enterprise or cooperative. The 80 percent of all farmland that was once held
by the state, including sugarcane plantations, has now essentially been turned over to the workers.
The UBPCs allow collectives of workers to lease state farmlands rent free, in perpetuity. Members elect
management teams that determine the division of jobs, what crops will be planted on which parcels, and how
much credit will be taken out to pay for the purchase of inputs. Property rights remain in the hands of the state,
and the UBPCs must still meet production quotas for their key crops, but the collectives are owners of what they
produce. Perhaps most importantly, what they produce in excess of their quotas can now be freely sold on the
newly reopened farmers markets. This last reform, made in 1994, offered a price incentive to farmers both to sell
their produce through legal channels rather than the black market, and also to make effective use of the new
The pace of consolidation of the UBPCs has varied greatly in their first years of life. Today one can find a range
from those where the only change is that the old manager is now an employee of the workers, to those that truly
function as collectives, to some in which the workers are parceling the farms into small plots worked by groups
of friends. In almost all cases, the effective size of the management unit has been drastically reduced. It is still
too early to tell toward what final variety of structures the UBPCs will evolve. But it is clear that the process of
turning previously alienated farm workers into farmers will take some timeit simply cannot be accomplished
overnightand many UBPCs are struggling. Incentives are a nagging problem. Most UBPCs are stuck with state
production contracts for export crops like sugar and citrus. These still have fixed, low prices paid by state
marketing agencies, in contrast to the much higher prices that can be earned for food crops. Typical UBPCs, not
surprisingly then, have low yields in their export crops, but also have lucrative side businesses selling food
produced on spare land or between the rows of their citrus or sugarcane.
By mid-1995 the food shortage had been overcome, and the vast majority of the population no longer faced
drastic reductions of their basic food supply. In the 1996-97 growing season Cuba recorded its highest-ever
production levels for ten of the thirteen basic food items in the Cuban diet. The production increases came
primarily from small farms, and in the case of eggs and pork, from booming backyard production. The
proliferation of urban farmers who produce fresh produce has also been extremely important to the Cuban food
supply. The earlier food shortages and the rise in food prices suddenly turned urban agriculture into a very
profitable activity for Cubans, and once the government threw its full support behind a nascent urban gardening
movement, it exploded to near epic proportions. Formerly vacant lots and backyards in all Cuban cities now
sport food crops and farm animals, and fresh produce is soldfrom private stands throughout urban areas at prices
substantially below those prevailing in the farmers markets. There can be no doubt that urban farming, relying
almost exclusively on organic techniques, has played a key role in assuring the food security of Cuban families
over the past two to three years.
To what extent can we see the outlines of an alternative food system paradigm in this Cuban experience? Or is
Cuba just such a unique case in every way that we cannot generalize its experiences into lessons for other
countries? The first thing to point out is that contemporary Cuba turned conventional wisdom completely on its
head. We are told that small countries cannot feed themselves, that they need imports to cover the deficiency of
their local agriculture. Yet Cuba has taken enormous strides toward self-reliance since it lost its key trade
relations. We hear that a country can't feed its people without synthetic farm chemicals, yet Cuba is virtually
doing so. We are told that we need the efficiency of large-scale corporate or state farms in order to produce
enough food, yet we find small farmers and gardeners in the vanguard of Cuba's recovery from a food crisis. In
fact, in the absence of subsidized machines and imported chemicals, small farms are more efficient than very
large production units. We hear time and again that international food aid is the answer to food shortagesyet
Cuba has found an alternative in local production.
Abstracting from that experience, the elements of an alternative paradigm might therefore be:
Agroecological technology instead of chemicals: Cuba has used intercropping, locally produced
biopesticdes, compost, and other alternatives to synthetic pesticides and fertilizers.
Fair Prices for Farmers: Cuban farmers stepped up production in response to higher crop prices.
Farmers everywhere lack incentive to produce when prices are kept artificially low, as they often are. Yet when
given an incentive, they produce, regardless of the conditions under which that production must take place.
Redistribution of Land: Small farmers and gardeners have been the most productive of Cuban producers
under low-input conditions. Indeed, smaller farms worldwide produce much more per unit area than do large
farms. In Cuba redistribution was relatively easy to accomplish because the major part of the land reform had
already occurred, in the sense that there were no landlords to resist further change.
Greater Emphasis on Local Production: People should not have to depend on the vagaries of prices in
the world economy, long distance transportation, and super power "goodwill" for their next meal. Locally and
regionally produced food offers greater security, as well as synergistic linkages to promote local economic
development. Furthermore such production is more ecologically sound, as the energy spent on international
transport is wasteful and environmentally unsustainable. By promoting urban farming, cities and their
surrounding areas can be made virtually self-sufficient in perishable foods, be beautified, and have greater
employment opportunities. Cuba gives us a hint of the underexploited potential of urban farming.
Cuba in its Special Period has clearly been in a unique situation with respect to not being able to use power
machinery in the fields, forcing them to seek alternatives such as animal traction. It is unlikely that either Cuba
or any other country at its stage of development would choose to abandon machine agriculture to this extent
unless compelled to do so. Yet there are important lessons here for countries struggling to develop. Relatively
small-scale farming, even using animals for traction, can be very productive per unit of land, given technical
support. And it is next to impossible to have ecologically sound farming at an extremely large scale. Although it
is undeniable that for countries wishing to develop industry and at the same time grow most of their own food,
some mechanization of agriculture will be needed, it is crucial to recognizeand the Cuban example can help us
to understand thisthat modest-sized family farms and cooperatives that use reasonably sized equipment can
follow ecologically sound practices and have increased labor productivity.
The Cuban experience illustrates that we can feed a nation's population well with a small- or medium-sized farm
model based on appropriate ecological technology, and in doing so we can become more self-reliant in food
production. Farmers must receive higher returns for their produce, and when they do they will be encouraged to
produce. Capital intensive chemical inputsmost of which are unnecessarybe largely dispensed with. The
important lessons from Cuba that we can apply elsewhere, then, are agroecology, fair prices, land reform, and
local production, including urban agriculture.
Chapter Thirteen
From the early 1920s through 1949 when the Peoples Liberation Army liberated Beijing, the Chinese people,
rising in revolution under the leadership of the Communist Party of China, targeted domestic feudalism,
bureaucratic capitalism, and foreign imperialism as the three mountains on their backs that had to be thrown off.
In the 1920s and early 1930s, the landlord-dominated feudal land system was the central issue, and land reform equal distribution of the land to all who labored on it - formed the heart of the revolutionary program. After
1937, when the Japanese embarked on the military conquest of China, their imperialist invasion, threatening
China's very existence as an independent country, preempted all other political issues. Chinese revolutionaries
responded by forging a united front with all forces, including those bureaucratic capitalists holding state power
and those landlords in the countryside, who were willing to join in resistance to Japan. For eight years
mobilization for land reform in the countryside gave way to rent-and-interest reduction schemes, a Communist
Party policy to which all resisters gave lip service, but not all landlords and usurers put into practice.
After the Japanese surrendered in 1945, land reform again took the center of the political stage and dominated
domestic politics in China throughout the period of the postwar civil war and even for several years thereafter.
This dominance lasted more or less intact until all peasants everywhere - with minor exceptions such as a sixyear delay in Tibet - took over the land they tilled. This stage of the revolution, the anti-imperialist, anti-feudal
stage, was called by Mao Zedong the New Democratic Revolution. It was a massive armed uprising, primarily of
peasants, that prepared the ground for socialism but did not place socialism as such on its agenda.
The New Democratic land reform in China was without doubt the most massive expropriation and distribution of
property and repudiation of debt in world history. As I wrote in Fanshen, the Draft Agrarian Law of 1947
was destined to play as important a role in China's Civil War of 1946-1950 as the Emancipation Proclamation
played in the American Civil War of 1861-65. Lincoln's Emancipation proclamation confiscated without
compensation $3 billion worth of property in slaves, put an end to the possibility of compromise between the
industrial North and the slave-holding South in the military contest then raging; made the slave system itself,
rather than regional autonomy, the nub of the conflict; cleared the way for the recruitment of hundreds of
thousands of emancipated black men into the Union Army; and spread the war into every corner of Confederate
territory with devastating effect.
Mao's Draft Agrarian Law confiscated without compensation $20 billion in land (no figures for the value of
debts canceled are available); put an end to all possible compromise between the Communist Party and the
Kuomintang; made countrywide overthrow of the landlords and compradores, rather than the defense of the
Liberated Areas, the main aim of the war; facilitated the capitulation and recruitment of huge blocks of Chiang's
soldiers into the People's Liberation Army; inspired peasant unrest in the far corners of China; and gave impetus
to demonstrations of workers, students, merchants, and professional people in urban centers throughout the
Kuomintang area.
The massive distribution of the property at the core of Chinese feudalism that followed promulgation of the Draft
Law enabled almost every poor peasant and hired laborer in China to fanshen, to turn over, to stand up, to
acquire land, often tools, a share in a draft animal, a section or two of house, even a few clothes - in other words
the basic prerequisites for self support, and this egalitarian maternal base undergirding peasant society remains
intact to this day.
This underlying egalitarian arrangement makes China quite different, say, from India, Pakistan, or the
Philippines where no thoroughgoing large-scale land reform has ever taken place. There, large masses of
landless and destitute people form a huge reserve army of rural proletarians with no reliable sustenance, no place
to go, and no place to return to that they can call their own.
Since the Deng "reforms" began in the early 1980s many Chinese peasants with land use-rights at home have left
their native places looking for something more lucrative to do than hand hoe the small strips allocated to them.
In the off season as many as 100 million roam the country looking for work, especially in the boom-bust coastal
provinces and the major cites. Some find work, many do not. But all of them, when down on their luck, have the
option of returning home. Non-roaming family members - women, children, old folks, the ill, and the disabled have usually raised some crops in their absence. They can still eat and find shelter under their own roof.
Nowadays as privatization and market relations gain dominance, contradictions and tensions in the countryside,
brought on by social polarization, are escalating. As conflicts sharpen, the subsistence substructure provided by
universal land use-rights adds greatly to the stability of a system and a situation that, if not backed up by these
inalienable prerogatives inherited by hundreds of millions of rural people from land reform days, could easily
become quite unstable, even explosive. Whether or not this outcome is positive can be debated. Unfolding as one
of the great ironies of modern history, the vast liberating social equalization that accompanied the Communist
victory in 1949 is now coming back into play by providing a huge and relatively compliant reserve army of labor
for the development of capitalism - unfortunately not the brand of autonomous national capitalism familiar to the
West as it developed, but a capitalism warped by strong compradore tendencies that can drag China back into the
kind of neocolonial nightmare that brought on the upheaval in the first place.
Beginning in the early 1980s, strong revanchist tendencies began to surface in China which have strengthened
year by year. Whereas the brunt of the "reformist" attacks used to concentrate on socialist collectivization, today
repudiation even extends to the land reform of the New Democratic Revolution. Some localities are building
People's Life Museums, thinly disguised celebrations of gentry life as it was led in the good old days, without
any hint of the sources of gentry wealth or the class conflicts which these generated. Foreign academicians,
meanwhile are writing books like Friedman, Pickowicz, and Selden's Chinese Village, Socialist State that
badmouths the whole revolution, starting with a so-called "leveling and terror" land reform that had, they say, no
objective basis in land concentration, land deprivation, or the class conflicts generated thereby. These attacks are
off the wall, completely unjustified exercises in revanchism. By any objective standard - political, economic,
social, or cultural, land reform in China must be judged an outstanding success. The goal of the movement was
to break up, once and for all, the elitist, hierarchical, autocratic, wasteful, corrupt, and above all stagnant
landlord-dominated feudal system and replace it with grassroots communities of equal, small holders laboring on
their own land, responsible for their own livelihood and basically running their own affairs, led by Communist
Party members recruited from among the best, most active, most dedicated men and women of the locality. If the
dedication didn't always last after they tasted power, the potential for honest service to the community was still
much greater than when hereditary gentry parceled out the posts.
On the whole, throughout the nation over a period of five or six years, peasant communities achieved their New
Democratic revolutionary goals with results that exceeded expectations, whether it be the rapid expansion of
crop production, the development of simple sidelines through mutual aid, the election of representative village
councils, the empowerment of women, first steps toward universal primary education, widespread literacy
campaigns, or an unfolding grassroots street theater. What better foundation could be laid for the establishment
of an expanding economy generated by self-governing citizens than these villages, no longer shaped and
constrained by members of a landed elite that knew how to exploit but not to build, yet still regarded themselves
as the only worthy representatives of Chinese civilization.
As the American Civil War ended Thaddeus Stevens asked:
How can republican institutions, free schools, free churches, free social intercourse, exist in a mingled economy
of nabobs and serfs; of owners of 20,000 acre manors with lordly palaces and the occupants of narrow huts
inhabited by "low white trash"? If the South is ever to be made a safe republic let her land be cultivated by the
toil of the owners and the free labor of intelligent citizens.... This country will be well rid of the proud, bloated
and defiant rebels ... the foundations of their institutions must be broken up and relaid, or all our blood and
treasure have been spent in vain.
America rejected Stevens' solution - 40 acres and a mule for every freed slave and white tenant. The land went
back to its erstwhile owners. Rural blacks went from slavery to peonage on the cotton plantations of the South,
while the race question burgeoned into a lasting curse that has exacted an enormous price from all Americans
ever since.
There were not many 20,000 acre manorial estates in China, and most landlords did not live in palaces. If
anything, there was even a reverse correlation between the size of the holding and the venality of the landlord.
Those with the sparsest holdings lived under the most pressure to collect the last modicum of rent lest they
themselves be forced to swap their gown for a pair of work pants and a hoe. Many American academics had a
hard time finding landlords in China because they could not believe that rentiers collected as little and lived as
poorly as many undoubtedly did. But the class standards used by the peasant associations were well grounded,
and people who lived off the land but did not work it lost their holdings, whatever their size, from the Amur to
the South China sea. They got back, like everyone, a working peasant's share.
Thus China solved in a thoroughgoing manner what America failed to solve as slavery ended in the South, what
India failed to tackle after winning independence, and what the Philippines aborted after MacArthur's return. The
difference this has made is profound, as any comparison of China with Mississippi, India, or the Philippines will
The more or less universal equality established by land reform made possible the next great step taken by the
Chinese Revolution in the countryside - cooperative agriculture through land pooling village by village.
Cooperation cannot arise between nabobs and serfs, nor even between petty landlords and their tenants. Their
interests are too opposed. But cooperation between equal small holders is both natural and necessary.
Conventional wisdom has it that almost three decades of cooperative agriculture in China (1956-1983) led only
to disaster. In preparing to break up the collectives, which they never favored in the first place, advocates of the
individual family contract system vigorously promoted the theory that cooperation as a form of organization was
generically unsuited to peasant agriculture. But in reality, after experiencing serious growing pains, the collective
system as finally consolidated in the 1970s functioned successfully. A team of young specialists analyzing the
situation on behalf of "reform" leaders in the early 1980s found that 30 percent of the rural collectives, those
leading the way, were doing well, an additional 40 percent in the middle were viable but faced problems, while
30 percent at the bottom were in serious trouble and required drastic overhaul. With 240 million peasants
prospering through cooperation, with another 480 million in village collective units basically successful, how
could it be said that cooperation could never succeed in the agricultural sector?
The China Daily of April 10, 1996, reconfirmed the success of rural cooperation historically. Agricultural
scientists at the Chinese Academy of Science found that the average annual increase in grain production from
1949 to 1984 (a period that includes the "three hard years" of 1959 to 1961 when output fell sharply) was 7.42
percent. This kept grain production well ahead of population growth, which averaged 2.4 percent. After 1984, as
the Deng reforms took hold, however, the rate of increase in grain production slowed. In 1993 it fell to 1.34
percent, a level below that of population growth, which by that time had slowed to 1.5 percent. Since family
contracts only became universal in 1982-1985, the bulk of this higher 7.4 percent growth rate was generated by
an all but universally collectivized agriculture - a major achievement that contradicts what most commentators
have been affirming.
It goes without saying that before the "reform," the democratic potential embodied in so many communities of
equal small holders cooperating to build a better life had not been fully realized in China. In not a few cases core
revolutionary civil rights norms had been badly betrayed by power holders who turned their home villages into a
new type of feudal fief practicing favoritism based on kinship. Still the basic structure for autonomous, selfgoverning communities dedicated to prosperity and social service through collective action remained and could
be activated by the vigorous application of party rectification, mass education, and a requirement that all cadres
regularly join physical work. A rectification campaign, inspired by Chen Yonggui and Dazhai, the model village
chosen by Mao, was gathering strength when both Mao and Chou Enlai, strong backers of the Dazhai road, died.
Hua Guofeng, Mao's chosen successor, tried hard to maintain socialist momentum with two national Dazhai
conferences and a national capital construction meeting that convened at several key spots where large-scale
works for transforming nature were in progress. But the resurgent procapitalist opposition, now led by Deng,
proved too strong. Deng outflanked Hua, who had no base in or strong ties to the military, and at the Third
Plenary Session of the Eleventh Central Committee, Deng led the whole party to change course.
Stressing the fact that many villages were still stagnating, which was true, and reiterating the theory that
cooperation and agriculture were by nature mismatched, which was not true (but served the interests of those
who opposed the socialist transformation to begin with) the Deng "reformers" began dissolving collectives
wholesale, beginning at places where communes, brigades, and teams were least successful. Using every means
of pressure and persuasion, especially credit, farm supply, and tax policies that discriminated against collectives,
they kept this drive going until they had almost entirely privatized agricultural production in China and
dismantled a system that had taken almost thirty years to build. Many peasants welcomed the change, some
simply went along with the fide. Many others bowed under escalating pressure. Only a few highly successful
collective units were able to resist and survive unchanged. As I said above, however, cooperation between equal
small holders is not only natural but necessary.
In Chinese peasant communities, given the small size and scattered distribution of the land use-rights, any given
family with rights to an acre or two may till ten strips in as many different places. This fragmentation ensures
fairness in regard to good and bad, near and far, steep and level holdings, but it condemns peasants to endless
ground breaking with hand-held hoes. It also makes mechanization virtually impossible and freezes labor
productivity at medieval levels. Those who carried through the family contract "reform" counted on gradual
consolidation through subcontracting that would transfer land use-rights into the hands of the more efficient
producers, but this is happening very slowly, if at all. Few of any peasant's individual strips are adjacent to those
of any of his or her neighbors. As a practical matter, scale can only be established through cooperation - that is to
say through land pooling. Almost any village in the vast lowlands of China that wants to form a modern
mechanized farm can put together 500 to 1,000 acres virtually overnight. This is a very good size for mediumscale mechanization. Widely applied it could make China competitive in labor productivity with any other part
of the world.
Equally important, viable nonfarm enterprises requiting scale to succeed can also often be established only
through cooperation. Communities can do what individuals can rarely do - accumulate investment funds in big
enough amounts to finance such industrial projects as brick and tile kilns, coke and slaked lime ovens, cement
mills, iron, bauxite, and coal mines, pig iron smelting, various types of iron foundries, machine and repair shops,
sawmills, porcelain manufacture including the making of glazes, pharmaceuticals including antibiotics, dye and
dye fixing chemicals, furfural (used for lacquers, dyes, and synthetic resins) made from corn cobs, wool and silk
carpet weaving, garment making, food processing such as flour milling, bean noodle, tofu and corn starch
making, processes that yield by-products for livestock raising and feed for dairy cattle, pigs, and poultry. Raising
animals and birds is not considered farming in China. Neither are orchards, tree farms or medicinal herb
gathering and processing, all of which yield good returns where appropriate. The list is long, very long.
The number of such nonfarm enterprises has reached as high as 20 million in rural China in recent years. Though
many fail, many new ones start up. While some of these are private and some are organized along capitalist lines
in the form of joint stock companies, the largest number are financed and managed by communities using
collective accumulation funds. This whole massive development has its roots in the equal small holder
communities created by land reform, in the land use-rights inherited by all, and in the accumulation practices of
the collective period.
Agricultural mechanization, in the long run the only way out for peasants anywhere, depends on both the
processes mentioned above: first, the creation of reasonable scale through land pooling to make mechanization
possible; second, the provision of alternative employment through sideline and industrial enterprises to those
released from the land by the machines. The surplus funds earned by the enterprises are as important as the jobs.
These enable the community to buy the tractors and implements, the motors and the pumps that release the labor
from the land.
All facets of this dialectical phenomena are mutually interdependent, each supports the other in providing
conditions for the advance of the whole. When managed well the results can be surprising. In one North China
village the support given by the industrial sector to the farming sector in terms of machinery supplied and by the
newly mechanized farming sector in turn to the industrial sector in terms of labor power released raised per
capita income in a few years from 1,623 yuan in 1987 to 8,502 yuan in 1993. What made this difference was a
massive shift to high labor productivity both on the land and off it. Yet very few left the village - a living
example of Mao's advice to peasants to "leave the land but not the village."
Without such a diversification process on a large scale, a process which the current family contract system
neither favors nor promotes, rural China is running into increasingly severe problems. One example may serve to
illustrate the adverse effects of the family contract system on the sustainability of agriculture.
All over China peasants on the noodle strip plots allocated by the Deng reform are depleting the organic matter
in the soil. The depletion is due to lack of human, animal, and mechanical power to incorporate crop residues
back into the land where they belong. Most families simply do not have enough able-bodied workers to process
stalks and straw not to mention enough money to pay someone else to do it. Whether the interval between crops
is long or short they burn most residues to get them out of the way. While burning leaves some useful minerals
behind it destroys key nutrients as well as the most important substance of all, the organic matter so plentiful in
wheat straw, corn stover, soybean stalks and other plant residues - organic matter absolutely essential for soil
structure, soil flora and fauna, earthworms, bacteria, fungi and microbial life of all kinds. It is essential also for
increasing moisture absorption and retention, for releasing minerals to plant roots, and many other complex
processes which contribute to healthy plant growth.
Traveling from Beijing to Northwestern Hubei at corn harvest time not so long ago, we found the whole
countryside shrouded in smoke, especially in the late afternoon. As people prepared to leave the fields they set
fire to the corn stalks they had stripped of ears that day. The blazes flared on into the night, myriads of scattered
points of light glowing near and far. It was as if whole constellations of stars had fallen from the sky and
continued to sparkle across mountain and plain, north, east, south and west.
The damage done by this destruction is incalculable, both in the present and in terms of future consequences.
The monetary value of the crop residues burned over the whole country, residues more or less equal in weight to
the grain harvested, comes to tens of billions of dollars, while the ecological damage done by its destruction
must be counted as several times that. Such losses are not sustainable over the long haul. Yet, under the current
family contract system. there is no way to counter them. Thus for the 75 percent of the population that are still
peasants, family contracts head down a dead-end road that can only lead in the long run to the liquidation, rather
than the consolidation, of the equities held by small holders, and turn all but a few select tillers into propertyless
proletarians with nothing to sell but their labor power.
This outcome looms in sharp contrast to Mao's open ended strategy; the advance of cooperation through stages,
from mutual aid to lower-stage co-op, then to higher stage co-op and on to communes where the cooperative
economy may intersect with and eventually merge with that of the state. Mao's vision was dialectical, projecting
a society in constant development, communities at different levels all moving forward toward higher levels of
multifaceted cooperative production at speeds determined by their own potential and their own internal
dynamism. Far from being one sided as Mao's critics proclaim, his vision was well rounded, comprehensive, and
far seeing. It pointed the direction for China's vast rural population.
The "reforms" of the 1980s brought the whole cooperative process to a halt while it was still at an early stage.
They turned the clock back thirty years to the point where land reform left off in the early 1950s. Those few
scattered village collectives that refused to dissolve worked together on pooled assets, made the most of their
economies of scale, and prospered beyond all expectations. Of the village collectives that dissolved, actually the
vast majority, only those in certain favored regions have been able to diversify into a wide variety of industrial
activities linked to the urban centers of the regions where they reside. The rest of the communities, the
overwhelming majority nationwide, in spite of vastly increased inputs of fertilizer, pesticides, and improved
seeds, have stagnated. They are held in check by lack of capital (which communities, with production privatized,
no longer accumulate), extreme fragmentation of all arable land (thus aborting mechanization), remote locations
and poor communications, and unfavorable price ratios between needed agricultural inputs and the food and
fiber they produce and sell. Most of all they are held in check by the anarchy that flows from "go it alone"
ideology - not "public first, self second" that brings out the best in human nature, but "some must get rich first"
that brings out the worst.
If these communities don't again get organized, if their members don't, in various ways, relearn how to work
together, their problems can only get worse, polarization can only accelerate, and economic stagnation can only
deepen. Going it alone on scattered noodle strips is a dead-end road.
The great land reform of the middle of the Century was a crucial turning point in China's history. Peasant
rebellions had many times stormed "heaven" and ended dynasties, but never before had such an overthrow so
thoroughly transformed social relations or set in motion such deep and lasting change. Such change was possible
because a society and an economy shaped by Western imperialist penetration and intervention had brought into
being new classes in China, a bourgeoisie and a working class, both victimized by feudalism and ready to fight
for change. Together activists of these new classes mobilized the peasantry, the only force strong enough to take
on a feudal establishment backed up from abroad, and led rural millions to rise in revolt. Their final victory was
as remarkable as it was complete.
The first great sea change the new regime brought about, land reform, cleared the way for advance on all fronts.
But as the dust settled not one, but two roads opened, one socialist, the other capitalist. The disparate class forces
leading the revolution, most critically the leaders of the Communist Party itself, split into two factions
representing the two classes contending for hegemony, workers on the one hand, bourgeoisie on the other, each
with its own agenda and each with its own mass base. Thus began a struggle over China's future that continues to
this day. From 1949 on no policy has gone uncontested, no initiative unopposed. As long as Mao lived, the
socialist road predominated, most of the time. But after Mao's death his successor, Hua Guofeng, failed to
consolidate his position. "Reformers," so called, took power. They cast doubt even on the need for land reform
and dismissed three decades of socialist construction as thirty wasted years. Professing the use of capitalist
methods to build socialism, they then set to work using socialism to build capitalism.
Still, it is not too late to reverse the reversal. The village structure that formed the basis for collective agriculture
remains intact. Many thousands of communities, even mountain communities, have the opportunity to pool land
and farm on a scale as efficient as any in the world. They also have the opportunity to support and supplement
this modernization with village sidelines and industries that offer alternative employment to all, raise
productivity on the land and off it, and raise standards of living. They could reactivate the principles of Mao's
development ladder, break out of the current rural stagnation, and create a cooperative commonwealth of
unprecedented strength and productivity. If this ever comes about (it is happening down below, in isolated spots
where people are feeling their way toward something new), the land reform of the New Democratic Revolution
would realize its full potential at last and show the way to all the peasant peoples in the world who are losing out
in the rush to globalization.