Don’t End Agricultural Subsidies, Fix Them

Agricultural subsidies have helped bring us high-fructose corn syrup, factory farming, fast food, a two-soda-a-day habit and its accompanying obesity, the near-demise of family farms, monoculture, and a host of other ills.

Yet—like so many government programs—what subsidies need is not the ax, but reform that moves them forward. Imagine support designed to encourage a resurgence of small- and medium-size farms producing not corn syrup and animal feed but food we can touch, see, buy, and eat—like apples and carrots—while diminishing handouts to agribusiness and its political cronies.

Farm subsidies were created in an attempt to ameliorate the effects of the Great Depression, which makes it ironic that in an era when more Americans are suffering financially than at any time since, these subsidies are mostly going to those who need them least.

That wasn’t the plan, of course. In the 1930s, prices were fixed on a variety of commodities, and some farmers were paid to reduce their crop yields. The program was supported by a tax on processors of food—now there’s a precedent!—and was intended to be temporary. It worked, sort of: prices rose and more farmers survived. But land became concentrated in the hands of fewer farmers, and agribusiness was born, and along with it the sad joke that the government paid farmers for not growing crops.

The Farm Bill, up for renewal in 2012, includes an agricultural subsidy portion worth up to $30 billion, $5 billion of which is what you might call handouts, direct payments to farmers.

The subsidy-suckers don’t grow the fresh fruits and vegetables that should be dominating our diet. Indeed, if all Americans decided to actually eat the five servings a day of fruits and vegetables that are recommended, they would discover that American agriculture isn’t set up to meet that need. They grow what they’re paid to grow: corn, soy, wheat, cotton, and rice.

The first two of these are the pillars for the typical American diet—featuring an unnaturally large consumption of meat, never-before-seen junk food, and a bizarre avoidance of plants—as well as the fortunes of Pepsi, Dunkin’ Donuts, KFC, and the others that have relied on cheap corn and soy to build their empires of unhealthful food. Over the years, prices of fresh produce have risen, while those of meat, poultry, sweets, fats, and oils, and especially soda, have fallen. (Tom Philpott, writing in the environment and food website Grist and citing a Tufts University study, reckons that between 1997 and 2005 subsidies saved chicken, pork, beef, and HFCS producers roughly $26.5 billion. In the short term, that saved consumers money too—prices for these foods are unjustifiably low—but at what cost to the environment, our food choices, and our health?)

Eliminating the $5 billion in direct agricultural payments would level the playing field for farmers who grow nonsubsidized crops, but just a bit—perhaps not even noticeably. There would probably be a decrease in the amount of HFCS in the market, in the 10 billion animals we “process” annually, in the ethanol used to fill gas-guzzlers, and in the soy from which we chemically extract oil for frying potatoes and chicken. Those are all benefits, which we could compound by taking those billions and using them for things like high-speed rail, fulfilling our promises to public workers, maintaining Pell grants for low-income college students, or any other number of worthy, forward-thinking causes.

But let’s not kid ourselves. Although the rage for across-the-board spending cuts doesn’t extend to the public—according to a recent Pew poll, most people want no cuts or even increased spending in major areas—once the $5 billion is gone, it’s not coming back.

That the current system is a joke is barely arguable: wealthy growers are paid even in good years, and may receive drought aid when there’s no drought. It’s become so bizarre that some homeowners lucky enough to have bought land that once grew rice now have subsidized lawns. Fortunes have been paid to Fortune 500 companies and even gentlemen farmers like David Rockefeller.

Thus even House Speaker Boehner calls the bill a “slush fund”; the powerful Iowa Farm Bureau suggests that direct payments end; and Glenn Beck is on the bandwagon. (This last should make you suspicious.) Not surprisingly, many Tea Partiers happily accept subsidies, including Vicky Hartzler (R-MO, $775,000), Stephen Fincher (R-TN, $2.5 million), and Michele Bachmann (R-MN, $250,000). No hypocrisy there.

Left and right can perhaps agree that these are payments we don’t need to make. But suppose we use this money to steer our agriculture—and our health—in the right direction. A Gallup poll indicates that most Americans oppose cutting aid to farmers, and presumably they’re not including David Rockefeller or Michele Bachmann in that protected group; we still think of farmers as stewards of the land, and the closer that sentiment is to reality the better off we’ll be.

By making the program more sensible the money could benefit us all. For example, it could:

• Fund research and innovation in sustainable agriculture, so that in the long run we can get the system on track.

• Provide necessary incentives to attract the 100,000 new farmers Secretary of Agriculture Vilsack claims we need.

• Save more farmland from development.

• Provide support for farmers who grow currently unsubsidized fruits, vegetables, and beans, while providing incentives for monoculture commodity farmers to convert some of their operations to these more desirable foods.

• Level the playing field so that medium-sized farms—big enough to supply local supermarkets but small enough to care what and how they grow—can become more competitive with agribusiness.

The point is that this money, which is already in the budget, could encourage the development of the kind of agriculture we need, one that prioritizes caring for the land, the people who work it, and the people who need the real food that’s grown on it.

We could, of course, finance or even augment the program with new monies, by taking a clue from the ’30s, when the farm subsidy program began: Let the food giants that have profited so mightily and long from cheap corn and soy—that have not so far been asked to share the pain—pay for it.

MARCH 2, 2011