TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/052190/0521104.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 8.5 KB | 181 lines

                ╪                                                              NATION, Page 29

It's Ugly, But It Works


Fears about the environment fuel a revolution on the farm

By J. MADELEINE NASH/BOONE, IOWA


    Time was when the Midwestern grain belt had the manicured
look of a suburban lawn. In summer, rows of corn lined up neat
as picket fences. In winter the plowed earth mimicked swatches
of felt brushed clear of debris. But as this year's planting
season gets under way, an increasing number of growers are
"farming ugly" -- gunning their tractors over fields ajumble
with great clods of dirt and raggedy stalks left over from last
year's harvest.

    That untidiness is symbolic of a major shift in farming
methods that is working its way across the nation's
breadbasket. Reason: an emerging consensus that agriculture as
it has long been practiced in the U.S. is a threat to the land
and its future productivity.

    The clean swaths that farmers have plowed across the prairie
are well suited to the efficient use of farm machinery. But
they encourage erosion that has allowed vast amounts of topsoil
to be blown away by wind or washed into the rivers and lakes.
Chemical fertilizers, insecticides and weed killers have
contributed to harvests that make U.S. agriculture the most
productive in the world. But they have also leached into
groundwater, contaminating wells in rural communities across
the nation. "Not every well is polluted, and not every farmer
has an erosion problem," says Ernest Shea, executive vice
president of the National Association of Conservation
Districts. "But we realize that we'll be better off if we admit
that we're part of the problem."

    Nowhere are farmers more primed for change than in Iowa,
proud producer of 20% of the nation's corn. In 1988 and 1989,
the state's natural resources department and the University of
Iowa sampled groundwater quality in 686 rural wells. Nearly 15%
of them were contaminated with one or more pesticides. For Iowa
State University weed biologist Jack Dekker, the survey marked
a turning point. "What we had," he says, "was a one-way arrow
pointing to a problem."

    Dekker is one of a growing corps of experts urging farmers
to adopt a new approach called sustainable agriculture. Once
the term was synonymous with the dreaded O word -- a farm-belt
euphemism for trendy organic farming that uses no synthetic
chemicals. But sustainable agriculture has blossomed into an
effort to curb erosion by modifying plowing techniques and to
protect water supplies by minimizing, if not eliminating,
artificial fertilizers and pest controls. "Sustainable
agriculture used to be something you said under your breath,"
jokes Indiana farmer Jim Moseley, agricultural consultant to
the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. "Now the definition
has broadened so that it's politically acceptable to a greater
range of people, and that has opened up an opportunity for
dialogue."

    Not surprisingly, the most persuasive proselytizers for
sustainable agriculture are those who have profited by it.
Since 1981, Wilbert Blumhardt and his son Glenn have been
fighting erosion on their 3,000-acre spread near Bowdle, S.
Dak., by planting wheat, sunflowers, soybeans and corn in
fields littered by the debris from earlier harvests. "That
trash," says Wilbert, "serves an important purpose. It helps
feed the soil, and it allows the water to soak in and not wash
off into lakes and streams." Last year the Blumhardts' fields
produced an average of 27 bu. of wheat an acre, 30% more than
conventional farms in the area.

    Besides using new planting methods, farmers are
experimenting with novel ways of fighting pests without
resorting to chemical weapons. Joe and Dalton Maddox, a
father-son team in Colorado City, Texas, once tried to
eliminate mesquite on their 22,000-acre sheep-and-cattle ranch
by dousing it with herbicides. Now they let the mesquite grow,
relying on a cover of luxuriant pasture to control its
spreading. "We used to spray for cockleburs, which were a big
problem for our sheep," says Joe Maddox. "They would get into
the wool and damage it. Then we got to thinking of what the
herbicide might be doing to Lake Spence, which is a source of
drinking water for a number of people." Instead of spraying,
the Maddoxes now bait cocklebur stands with salt to attract
cattle. The cattle mill around the salt, crushing the pesky
cockleburs underfoot.

    One of the most effective ways to reduce chemical use is
also one of the simplest: crop rotation. Dick and Sharon
Thompson of Boone, Iowa, do not merely rotate corn and
soybeans, as many of their neighbors do. They also include in
their scheme legumes such as alfalfa and red clover, taking
advantage of those plants' nitrogen-fixing ability to reduce
the need for fertilizer when they plant corn. To control weeds,
the Thompsons rely on mechanical cultivation, restricting their
use of herbicides to hand-spraying the recalcitrant thistles
that grow along fencerows. Hogs and cattle round out the
operation, a reliable source of manure that takes the place of
chemical fertilizer.

    Abutting the Thompson place is land farmed by neighbor Dave
Snyder. Like many larger growers, Snyder has judiciously
reduced his use of chemicals over the years. But he finds the
idea of replacing herbicides with mechanical cultivation on
1,800 acres wildly impractical. Last fall the U.S. Department
of Agriculture began a multiyear study of two fields farmed by
Snyder and Dick Thompson. Snyder's field produced eight more
bushels of corn an acre. But Thompson's field was riddled with
soil-enriching earthworms, while Snyder's boasted none.

    Despite its benefits, sustainable agriculture is not a
panacea. Attempts to prevent soil erosion, for example, could
enhance the ease with which water seeps into the soil, and
might actually speed the passage of chemicals into underlying
aquifers. Manure is organic, but if carelessly applied, it can
pollute drinking water with nitrates as easily as artificial
fertilizers do.

    Ultimately, the spread of sustainable agriculture will be
determined by economics. High prices for pesticide-free produce
have encouraged large California growers like Mike Yurosek &
Son, which last year committed 1,100 acres to organic carrots.
"Farmers have to be convinced that these techniques are
profitable," underscores Paul Thompson, an agricultural
ethicist at Texas A&M University, "and that they will not
involve a personal sacrifice." Farmers remain wary of efforts
by environmental groups to legislate reductions in chemical
use. In California, for instance, an initiative nicknamed the
Big Green is poised to appear on the ballot come November.
Among other things, it threatens to phase out up to 15% of the
pesticides currently used in the state. California's
influential farm lobby is preparing a massive counterattack.

    Another vexing deterrent to change has been the federal
commodity program, which bases the subsidy payments a farmer
receives on the number of acres planted in specified crops like
corn. Thus farmers who rely heavily on chemical fertilizers and
pesticides to grow corn year after year are rewarded with
larger payments, while those who renew their land by rotating
corn with other crops are penalized. Last year a National
Academy of Sciences committee urged Congress to correct the
bias. The committee also recommended that cosmetic standards
for fruits and vegetables be relaxed. "The standards force
farmers to use more pesticides," notes Iowa State agronomist
John Pesek, who chaired the panel, "but when an orange gets
squeezed into juice, who cares what it looks like?" As pressure
from environmentalists mounts, Congress may be more inclined
than ever to make such changes. Already the U.S. Senate
agriculture committee has tacked an ambitious water-quality
program onto its version of the 1990 Farm Bill.

    Regardless of what the government decides, a broad shift in
attitude has begun. "It used to be chemicals were so cheap that
if a little bit was good, more was better," observes Dean
Kleckner, president of the American Farm Bureau Federation, the
nation's largest farmers' organization. "That's no longer true.
Today we use as little as we can to get the job done, and ten
years from now we'll be using even less." In the end, the best
hope for change resides not in laws but in the intelligence of
those with the most to lose if the farm environment is
despoiled.