by Gene Logsdon
If Money Talks, Make It Speak Your Own Language
The industrial economy has been methodically closing the doors of opportunity to pastoral farming for a century. The main latch and lock, so to speak, is the policy of giving price breaks and other preferential treatment according to quantity in purchasing supplies and selling products. The more you buy, the cheaper per unit industry can price it to you. The more you sell, the more market opportunity becomes available to you. But this policy only works if there are many small purchasers and producers paying the higher price so that industry can offer price breaks to the big guys. If all the buyers and sellers become large scale, there can be no price breaks for any of them. Thus, the small business subsidizes the big business.
For example, if you buy small amounts of fertilizer or seed or chemicals, you will pay higher unit prices than the large-scale buyer. But as all cash grain farmers expand in size, the difference decreases steadily, while the value of manure and saving one's own seed increases.
Since smaller farm machinery dealers are going out of business right along with smaller farms, the survivors are using a new variation of the quantity-price-break tactic. They are offering break-even prices to the big cash grain farmer if he trades in several big-ticket machines every two years or so. The dealer then tries to make a profit on reselling the trade-ins at padded prices to debt-burdened farmers who desperately need to update their equipment but can't afford the cost of new equipment.
This ploy is not working. Farmers looking for used equipment are beginning to shun the dealers and dealing directly with each other. Last winter I was fortunate enough to be able to buy a good used 50-horsepower tractor, with a loader on it, for about $3000 less than similar models at dealerships. A friend of mine bought a used 150-horsepower tractor at private treaty for something like $15,000 less than what he says were his alternatives through a dealer. Then he turned around and sold his smaller tractor to another farmer for about what the dealer would have given him on trade-in.
Quantity has been given the edge when farmers sell their production, too. Milk haulers are not interested in driving another ten or twenty miles to service a five- to ten-cow dairy herd anymore. Their hauling profit is based on volume per mile. Yet only in a few states can the small dairyman sell unpasteurized milk directly to customers even though good dairies have proven that with modern methods and equipment, milk does not need to be pasteurized anymore. The hollowness of the prevailing regulations are readily apparent to anyone who buys milk at Young's Dairy near Yellow Springs, Ohio. Young's has been selling unpasteurized milk for forty years with no problems. Their customers actually prefer it. Young's can do it because the dairy was selling unpasteurized milk before the law went into effect and so can continue because of the grandfather clause. But until "health" regulations are changed, newer, smaller dairies don't have this avenue open to them and therefore can't pass on to consumers the lower-priced milk that they are capable of producing for direct retail sales. The name of the game against them is monopoly, not consumer health.
Until the tenets of pastoral economics are again recognized as integral to a sustainable society and are reintroduced into mainstream economics, (or even if they never are), cottage farmers must learn how to live with the disadvantages that small size brings and concentrate on quality, efficiency, and cooperation to make up for it. They have to generate their own underground economy, which is what they are doing when they trade used tractors among themselves. Some farmers who have learned that they can get along with each other well are sharing the ownership of an expensive machine rather than each owning one.
Along with sharing equipment, cottage farmers must learn to trade work instead of money. Our grandfathers and fathers did that as a matter of course. Just recently I traded three days of work helping neighbors Pat and Steve Gamby fill their silo for some used fencing that would have cost me a couple hundred dollars if I had to buy it new. The "profit" in the deal was a remark that Pat made and Steve agreed to, which I treasure beyond all wages: "The only way small dairymen like us are going to survive is if the price of milk goes down," she said. "Then it would be the big boys going out of business."
The Amish have been geniuses at living pastorally within an industrial economy. They produce at low, horse-power costs and sell at the high, tractor-power prices all the time. Where they might spend a dollar per bushel out-of-pocket to produce corn, the "English" farmer, as they call us, might spend $2. This is the main, though unconscious, reason why some of the "English" are prejudiced against the Amish. The Amish aren't playing the game "fair."
Actually when any financially conservative contrary farmers put off spending in order to save money rather than borrow it, they are not playing the game "fairly" either, in the eyes of most industrial economists. They are saving in the pastoral economy but acquiring interest in the industrial economy. If someone didn't borrow all that money (and buy all that junk), savings would not "grow" by exponential interest rates, the industrial economists point out. It is our duty to spend and consume like crazy to keep the economy booming.
But if there were no interest on money anywhere, savings would not have to "grow" to "keep up" with "inflation" and the economy would not have to "boom" to recover from a "bust." A gentle, continuous buzz would be sufficient.
Among themselves, the Amish cultivate an effective underground economy that the rest of us could learn from if only we would. At a barn-raising I attended, a huge timbered barn was erected to replace one that had been blown down by a tornado. This whole process cost the Amish farmer about $30,000, most of it "borrowed" interest-free from the community's own insurance fund, into which all church members pay. Many Amish do not charge interest on loans to each other, and when they do, the rates are invariably cheaper than bank rates. Moreover, had the barn been built by contractors and workers in the mainstream economy, I was told it would have cost $100,000, if workers could be found at all to do the kind of skilled mortise and tenon construction that the Amish employ.
Also, most Amish sects do not build churches but use their homes for church meetings. Nor is a hierarchy of ministers possible because bishops are chosen by lot, and they continue to work their farms or businesses like all the rest. How many zillions of dollars are saved by not being burdened, as most other Christian, Muslim, and Buddhist sects are, with a huge superstructure of drones and stones.
Nor do the Amish finance retirement homes. (They don't accept Social Security.) Grandparents in their old age live in houses on the farms that their sons and daughters take over from them. This of course means much sacrifice sometimes in caring for the old folks in their final days, but how much money is thus saved is probably beyond accounting. More importantly, the panic with which we English now face old age, as costs catapult beyond what we will ever be able to afford, is perhaps the best proof of all that an industrial economy doesn't work.
All small farmers worry about where affordable smaller machinery will come from in the future. The Amish have learned how to repair and restore old equipment almost indefinitely. Alton Nisely, for example, op erates a repair shop in Holmes County, Ohio, that uses very sophisticated, high-tech machinery to re-tool-and even manufacture from scratch-parts for the old horsedrawn machinery that the Amish favor. Wayne Wengerd, not far away, operates a small factory, the Pioneer Equipment Company, where he manufacturers new horsedrawn plows and other equipment that mainline manufacturers no longer make. Interestingly, he tells me he has just as many "English" customers nationwide as Amish.
Finally, in building a new trade complex between cottage farmers and their suppliers, many other cottage industries need to be generated and supported. These small industries are often called backyard businesses. For example, we are fortunate enough in our neighborhood to have what I call a "freelance mechanic" who is a genius at his work. He used to be the national troubleshooter for a large farm machinery company until, as he puts it, he "got tired of going to meetings all the time." He has found a profitable s
pecialty in the cottage farm economy: he puts rebuilt alternators on old tractors to replace original generators, so that the tractors start almost as easy on a cold morning as a horse. He has more work than he can handle.
Country welding shops are another good example. One of my nephews down the road can turn a pile of scrap iron into just about any tool a contrary farmer might dream up. He is looking forward to the day when welding and repair will be his little farm's main source of income, just as writing is our farm's main source.
A caveat. In the absence of an infrastructure of trade for cottage farming, the temptation is to try to do it all yourself. Make the equipment. Operate the farm. Become your own farm produce retailer. Many articles and hooks will tell you how to do everything yourself and "make more money." Don't believe it. Most of us arc already working a second job and two careers are enough. Or, if you have graduated to full time farming with husbandry (that is, raising animals), you will find that your time is fully taken up. Oh, you will surely cobble some of your own equipment together: that's part of farming. Or you may operate a small, temporary roadside stand, or take produce to a farm market occasionally. But if you try to complete the trade complex circle by operating a retail business (for instance, a butcher shop or full time fresh food store) in addition to farming, you will create havoc in your life. Not only is there not enough time to do both well, but more often than not a farmer hasn't the temperament to be a storekeeper, and vice versa. Most people drawn to farming do not like selling and so are not good at it. Much better to connect with someone who understands and likes selling and let him or her make some money too. And when you need a special tool, pay a mechanic to make it for you. You will be happier, will make more money concentrating on your first love, and will help build a community of independent but interdependent people.
Another way to start generating such a community without overwhelming yourself with work is to look into the possibility of "community supported agriculture" where you sell your products through subscription farming, pick-your-own, or other cooperative ventures that intimately involve the participation of your customer-clients (see chapter 3).
A Parable from the Industrial Economy
In the beginning, the Lord God of the Economy saith: Let there be the General Store and it appeared on every corner and crossroads in America. And the Lord God of the Economy saw that it was good. The stores served almost everybody within walking distance of their homes. Even far out in the country the people were never more than a mile from an ice cream cone or a new pair of bib overalls, about all that they required of industrialism.
But these scattered, decentralized, Mom and Pop stores were not industrially "efficient" and the Lord God of the Economy became displeased with them. "Because thou has not hearkened to my commands, I will cause thee to raise up a son who shall be the death of you," He said to Mom and Pop. And He put forth His hand and lo, a bright young entrepreneur, fresh out of college, built a new, self-serve store on the edge of town to catch the rural trade coming in and the urban trade going out. By buying in slightly larger quantities and making the customers serve themselves, thus saving on labor, he sold slightly cheaper, or so it seemed, and ran Mom and Pop out of business.
And the Lord of the Economy looked upon what His servant had done and said: "This is good. Mom and Pop were tired of storekeeping anyway. Let them playeth golf for the last twenty years of their lives and pass happily into paradise."
But in time, the servant became complacent about profits and in anger, the Lord God of the Economy raised up a chain store which, by the same quantity pricing, ran Mom and Pop's son out of business. And the Lord God of the Economy saith: "This too is good. The consumer hath gotten a better price, so now she can buyeth more." And the evening and the morning were the third day.
But farther out on the edge of the village, the waters of competition did gather together and upon the dry land of greed, behold, a shopping center did appear which harkened yet better to the precepts of the Lord God of the Economy and so drove the chain store out of business too.
And the Lord of the Economy saith: "This is even better. Look how the economy heateth up and provideth more jobs."
But to, the people still did cry out for more Things to buy. So the Lord God of the Economy stretched forth His hand and behold, the firmament parted and a Mall appeared out beyond the traffic mess created by the shopping center. Now there was so much selection for so few drachmas each that the Things barely paused a year in the consumers' households on their way to the landfill.
The people only groaned louder in their travail at constantly having to replace old junk with new junk to keep the economy going. So the Lord God of the Economy cast His cape over the land, and there appeared a Super Mall in the city sixty miles away. How grand it was with trees and shrubs and waterfalls and not a drop of rain, and with the sound of the zither and the cymbal to spend by. So the people did drive there to perform their rites of shopping and the hometown mall became as deserted as Main Street.
But there was still much weeping and gnashing of teeth because earnings did not keep pace with the prices. So the Lord God of the Economy spread his hands over the land yet once more and there appeared a Super Outlet Mall far out in the middle of nowhere but within two hours drive of everywhere. The people bowed before the God of the Economy and abandoned not only their hometown stores but those in the larger cities now, to motor on to the Outlets that they might pay $10 for the privilege of parking, and walk three miles through the citadels of materialism to save $15 on a pair of shoes they would not otherwise have needed. Such a bargain was possible because they had spent an entire day and $15 in car expense to get within three miles of the store. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.
And so the generations passed even unto this day. Eventually the people ran out of money needed for fuel to drive two hours to the Outlets to save money. A consumer paused, as she stumbled tiredly through the maze of shops, most of them boarded up. "This Outlet remindeth me of something," she said. "It remindeth me of Main Street. Why don't we all just go home and open up Mom and Pop stores that we can walk to and give Mom and Pop something to do besides play golf and bitch about their Social Security checks?"
And so it came to pass. A whole new generation of songwriters gathered on the cracked pavements of the deserted parking lots and sang sentimental post-Rap ballads about the good old days of the malls when everyone had plenty of borrowed money with which to buy everything except happiness.
CHAPTER 3
The Garden is the Proving
Ground for the Farm
Today 's organic gardens are the experimental plots for tomorrotc 's agriculture. In fact, the typical farm of the future may be simply a eery large garden.
Rohert Rodale, in conversation with the author, 1984
In 1965 my wife and I rushed into serious gardening on backyard land where commercial farmers would have feared to tread. Much of the topsoil had washed away from this ridge in an earlier farming era-we could see the depressions of the old dead furrows in our grassed acre of back lawn. Moreover the soil was underlain with almost solid rock less than two feet below the surface. The garden dried up when rain was scarce and even with plenty of moisture, plants did not grow luxuriantly. We turned to mulch gardening, a practice just then receiving serious attention. Using our own tree leaves and grass clippings plus a truckload more that the village gave us annually, we began mulching everything we grew, from rows of corn to beds of flowers. The results of mimicking nature's way of growing plants were quite dramatic after the leaves and grass clippings began to rot at the bottom of the layer of mulch. Not only did the leaves keep the soil from drying out during periods of drouthy weather, but they controlled weeds, prevented erosion, provided plant nutrients, and increased the organic matter content of the soil. I even finally used leaves in place of cultivation: instead of spading up a new section of sod, I covered it with leaves the first year, which killed the grass, and then transplanted
tomatoes and other potted plants down through what remained of the rotting mulch the second year, adding more leaves as the growing season progressed. By the third year the soil was easy to rotary-till for seeded crops, or I could simply plant seeds in the duff of leaf compost that had formed on the soil surface and continue to add leaves when the garden plants got a few inches tall.
I was so amazed at how well mulch gardening worked without fertilizers or herbicides or irrigation or even hoeing that I became an ardent supporter of organic methods, and wondered aloud at the offices of Farm journal, where I was working, whether farming too might not be done "organically." No, said my peers, all ardent supporters of chemical farming. "Organic methods are fine in city gardens, but aren't practical on commercial farms." I wonder how many times I heard that.
Now fast forward the video cassette of my life to 1992. I am dining with a professor from the agricultural college at Purdue. Guess what. He is telling me about his successful experiments using city tree leaves as a soil amendment in farm fields now that yard waste is being banned from landfills. Obviously organic gardening methods are applicable to farms after all.