ANIMAL WELFARE AND LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC
“Beef: It’s What’s For Dinner.”
“Beef: It’s What You Want.”
“Beef: Real Food for Real People.”
These three advertising slogans from the Beef Council are all designed around the idea that beef is central to what one eats and who one is. In fact, beef consumption has been in decline in the United States. According to the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) website, U.S. annual consumption increased from 28.1 to 25.5 billion pounds over the last seven years. In 2014 people in the United States moved from eating beef more than any other meat to eating chicken more than any other meat. Most attribute this change to a combination of health concerns on the part of consumers and rising beef prices (which reflect rising corn prices). This means the United States still averages about fifty pounds of beef per person per year—not an insignificant amount of consumption.
While the U.S. population may consume less beef than they did before, this in no way diminishes the cultural role of beef and cattle in the United States. Whether it is hamburger or high-end steak, beef is seen as “real food for real people”—well, actually, real food for real men. Beef has been, and despite advertising efforts continues to be, linked to masculinity. While the Beef Council has aimed many of its advertisements toward women, even those ads are based on the premise that women can join the world of men by eating beef, and just a brief look at the rest of the advertising tells a different story. Women are more the object of consumption, rather than the consumer. From Hardee’s numerous ads using images of highly sexualized women eating burgers and dripping with sauce to Burger King’s “It’ll Blow Your Mind Away” print ad to Carl Jr.’s ad with the X-Men female shapeshifter transforming into a man when she eats a burger, it’s pretty clear who the burgers are for and who the intended audience is.
Ecofeminist theorist Carol Adams has written a great deal on the links between masculinity and meat—and beef in particular. She notes that the “association between attractive human female bodies and delectable, attractive flesh appeals to the appetitive desires as they have been constructed in the dominant culture in which we interpret images from a stance of male identification and human-centeredness. Thus, animals who are available for corpse eating are represented in one menu as doing the cancan. In such an image . . . animals become neither man nor beast, but are rendered as consumable feminine entertainment” (Adams, Neither Man Nor Beast 30–31). Real men consume meat and real men consume women. Not surprisingly, then, the cowboy has long been used in advertising beef. Many of the ads show images of cowboys, while others use the voices of actors who have played cowboys. The cowboy, and the image of cattle grazing on the range, are part of the allure of beef. But the majority of cattle do not spend many months there anymore, and cowboys have been replaced by computers.
The history of cattle in the United States is long, as cattle were among the first animals transported from Europe by colonists. In the Northeast in the 1600s, the first cattle were mostly Devons from England. This was a very old, dual-purpose breed, used for both beef and milk. Devons were known for their thriftiness—their ability to fatten under normal feeding practices—and as good draft animals. There were also Danish cattle and some from the Spanish West Indies (Bidwell and Falconer 22). In the South, the first livestock came to the Mississippi region (probably with the Spanish), and by 1619 there were some two hundred cattle in the area (Bidwell and Falconer 19). By the 1700s numbers in both regions were on the rise from increased importation and domestic breeding. There were legal limits on the number of cattle that could be slaughtered so that there would be enough left for breeding (79). Whereas in 1684 there were four hundred cattle slaughtered in the Northeast, in 1698 that figure was three thousand. In the Northeast cattle were grazed on common pastures, but by 1747 soil depletion was noted, and pressure from land development pushed the cattle west (Bidwell and Falconer 57, 70). In the South, livestock were mostly free-range. Here, property owners legally had to fence out livestock rather than fence them in on their property. This system entailed more loss to predation, some hunting by Native Americans, and increased theft (Gray 138–45). To help prevent theft, animals were marked, registered, and checked at sale. As the numbers increased there also began to be some regulation of the range—ten cattle per one hundred acres. Generally, however, there was not much focus on the health of the land. As in the Northeast, grazing land began to disappear and the practice of confining and feeding cattle started to grow (143, 198, 200).
The 1800s saw increased interest in stock societies, fairs, and shows as efforts to “improve” cattle began. A cattle show in Lexington, Kentucky, in 1816 was the first west of “the mountains” (784), and by 1822 Ohio had an institute to train farmers (which would later become a state agricultural school). Ohio had become a cattle state because it was close enough to the growing eastern market that cattle could be driven there on the hoof. While the growing industry in the East provided demand for the meat and milk (with fewer people there keeping animals of their own), it also took up the bulk of the labor supply. Finding themselves shorthanded, farmers sought to improve the breeds and so get more meat, milk, or both per animal (Bidwell and Falconer 194, 178–79). As part of this effort, in the North they imported Herefords, Devons, Alderneys, Guernseys, and improved Durhams (shorthorned) (220). The shorthorned Durhams (known as Teeswater cattle until they were imported to Virginia in 1783) were developed in England in the 1600s and, like the Devons, were known as being good milk, meat, and draft animals. By 1854 imports of these cattle to the United States were largely focused on beef production, and crosses with the Spanish longhorns (to improve that breed) made them an important part of the U.S. beef industry. The American Shorthorn Association was established in 1872 (“Shorthorn Cattle”).
Of these early imports, along with the shorthorn, the Hereford was and is among the most influential in the United States. The Hereford was developed in 1742 in England and the first breeding herd came to New York in 1840. These cattle were tough, thrived on limited grass, and kept their weight during drives and transportation by railcar. They were often crossed with other cattle to improve the stock, but by 1881 breeders established the American Hereford Association, which promoted the breed. Through its attention to stock selection and breeding, the association has done much to change the beef industry as a whole (“Breeds of Livestock—Hereford Cattle”). Farmers in the South bought improved stock from northern farmers. Many focused on the Devon, but some focused on breeds known as good dairy cows such as the Ayrshire and the Holderness. Others included the Lincolnshire, Herefords, and shorthorns (Gray 850).
The prevalence of Herefords and shorthorns can still be seen today. The first farm my students and I visited was one that raised horned Herefords, with some shorthorn and Angus breeding in the mix. At the time of our visit in 2008 (and still in 2016), Joann Hutton had twenty-eight cows, one bull, and twenty-four yearlings. Since she works the ranch by herself and wants to know her cattle, she keeps it small. She slaughters on a seasonal basis (late fall/early winter), when the cattle are eighteen to twenty-two months old. Hutton comes from a fourth-generation cattle family and has been raising cattle since she was five. Unlike many in the industry today, she breeds her own stock and raises and feeds them from gestation to slaughter. She chose the Hereford breed because their temperament makes them easy to work with. They are good breeders who calve independently—that is, care for their calves without human help—an important trait for a one-woman operation. Being good foragers, they were a good choice as she started with less than ideal land.
When we visited she told us her interconnectedness with the land and animals was important in shaping her practices. She took classes in holistic management before starting Grass Fed Beef–J. Hutton, based near Ellensburg, Washington. Holistic management involves grazing livestock in a way that mimics the grazing of native wildlife. Hutton practices planned grass rotational grazing, moving pastures about once every three to ten weeks. This system allows the cattle to graze on the best forage, interrupts parasite cycles, and keeps the grasses healthy. During our visit she was particularly proud of the fact that the land—hardly surviving when she bought it—was now beginning to thrive. Her interests are not simply to see herself survive but to see the land thrive as well. This focus on the land is also noted on the Animal Welfare Approved website page describing her farm:
Letting her pastures rest fully between grazing allows them to bloom, providing food for pollinators, adding fertility to the soil and nutrients for her cattle, and helping to seed her pastures year after year. The key, she says, to improving pastures without using pesticides is to improve the soil. “First, focus on raising many varieties of grasses and legumes, by proper watering and grazing,” she says. “Test the soil regularly and check the types of weeds and other plants that are growing in the pasture. Check to see if there are pollinators, dung beetles, earthworms, reptiles, birds, raptors and other wildlife in the pastures and keep records.” (“Grass Fed Beef”)
Healthy cattle require healthy land; healthy land requires a complex healthy ecosystem. Hutton talked about the land having an energy she desired to know better in order to work with the land instead of against it. She has learned to observe and listen to the land—something she described as a feeling or spiritual practice. “Weeds,” she said, “are there because the land needs them. Killing the weeds just kills the soil.” Hutton is proud that her cattle graze on pastures that have never been treated with pesticides or chemical fertilizers. Using such products is “going to war with the land.” She doesn’t think it’s healthy, and in the end it doesn’t work. She made the observation that men (as opposed to women) assume they have “power and control” over nature. She thinks this attitude will be humanity’s downfall. She was particularly proud that her land does well for her because she does not assume that she is in control of nonhuman nature. Instead she works with nature and sees her livestock as part of nature. The cattle have never been fed grain, given hormones or growth promoters, or treated with antibiotics. Instead of resorting to these methods, she has worked to promote healthy land as a way to produce healthy cattle.
Her ideas about the land have much in common with Aldo Leopold’s land ethic. Leopold (1887–1948) argued that we must care for the land in order to flourish. Like Hutton, Leopold thought that our desire to control nature and make it into a commodity for human use and profit was the central problem facing society. He also thought that an overly individualistic mindset caused humans to miss the fact that they are members of the biotic community. While working for the Forest Service, Leopold saw the detrimental effects of the human impact on the environment. Soil erosion from overuse, damage from flooding caused by altering waterways, and loss of biodiversity from the introduction of invasive species all threatened to create a future with fewer natural resources. He was particularly concerned about farming. While farming was increasingly taking a “scientific” approach to “improving” soil, “eradicating” pests, and “controlling” weeds, Leopold suggested a more ecological approach. Like Hutton, he saw the land as a complex interactive system that one should get to know and work with rather than try to dominate and control. “Land, then, is not merely soil,” he said. “It is a fountain of energy flowing through [an open] circuit” in which “some energy is dissipated in decay, some is added by absorption from the air, some is stored in soils, peats, and forests; but it is a sustained circuit, like a slowly augmented revolving fund of life” (Sand County 253). Leopold thought humans needed to see themselves as part of this community rather than as being outside of it.
Even more, he believed, humans need to recognize our dependence on the land. While humans might think they are in control, their role as an apex species means that the things that humans eat eat other things that eat other things and so on. Someone who eats a cow, for instance, is depending on the health of the cow. The cow depends on the health of the grass and water. The grass depends on the health of the water and soil. The soil depends on the health of insects and microbes. If humans poison insects and microbes, they are in fact poisoning themselves. If they eradicate the organisms who build the soil, they are undermining their own future as well. Leopold wrote, “We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect. There is no other way for land to survive the impact of mechanized man, nor for us to reap from it the esthetic harvest it is capable, under science, of contributing to culture” (xviii–xix).
Leopold’s concerns about the attempts to control and “improve” nature as part of farming proved to be prophetic when the Dust Bowl drought occurred in the Midwest from 1934 to 1941. The government responded by passing the 1934 Taylor Grazing Act (which created grazing districts and regulated grazing on public land to maintain the health and long-term usefulness of these lands) and the 1935 Soil Conservation and Domestic Allotment Act (which enacted changes in practice in order to conserve soil and ensure the future production of food and fiber). I will discuss these acts more in the next chapter, but here it is enough to say that while they did attempt to push people to think in the long term rather than focus only on immediate economic gain, they still understood “the land” mainly as a resource humans could exploit if they used science to control and improve it.
Leopold warned that the conservation strategy of the day “defines no right or wrong, assigns no obligation, calls for no sacrifice, implies no change in the current philosophy of values. In respect of land-use, it urges enlightened self-interest” (208). He worried specifically about agriculture. In 1936 he wrote, “Agriculture has assumed that by the indefinite pyramiding of new ‘controls’ an artificial plant community can be substituted for the natural one. There are omens that this assumption may be false. Pests and troubles in need of control seem to be piling up even faster than new science and new dollars for control work” (Callicott 278). In 1945 he pointed to two competing views of the farm—it can be viewed as “a food-factory” and the criterion of its success as “salable products,” or it can be viewed as a place and way to live, and the criterion of success as “a harmonious balance between plants, animals, and people; between the domestic and the wild; between utility and beauty” (278). He wanted “a scientifically informed agro-ecology” (279). While artificial, such a system tries to mimic aspects of natural systems by including a diversity of species and utilizing the by-products of production to replenish the system. It should use aspects of the natural ecosystem in which it is located. “Agro-ecosystems . . . substantially reduce, if they do not eliminate altogether, the application of chemical fertilizers and pesticides” (281).
Elaborating on Leopold’s views, J. Baird Callicott’s Beyond the Land Ethic notes that the practices of modern agricultural threaten the survival of species and ecosystems. Soil, water, plants, and animals are all negatively impacted by the practices of plowing and irrigation; the use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides harms living organisms—farm workers and consumers as well as the other-than-human parts of nature. He attributes the prevalence of such practices to the dominance of a metaphysical view of nature as mechanical: “On this chemico-mechanical conception of growing food, a chemico-mechanical conception of production technique is overlaid. Processes are reduced to their simplest elements as on an assembly line. Products are standardized; scale is magnified; and crops are specialized and monocultured. Food ‘processing’ is automated” (268). Like ecofeminists such as Carol Adams and Carolyn Merchant, he attributes much of this view to the philosophical views of Descartes and the notions of science that grew along with that view. Like Adams and Merchant (and Dewey) he suggests the need to get beyond the view of classical liberalism, which posits atomistic individuals in conflict as they pursue their own self-interest.
Specifically we need to understand the environment as more than the sum of its parts. The reductionist view needs to be replaced with a holistic view, and Callicott suggests four tenets of such a holistic view: (1) systematic wholes have emergent properties—“properties that are neither reducible to nor predictable from the properties of the parts”; (2) systems affect individuals—“when an individual organism is located in a particular ecosystem, the resulting phenotype is shaped partly by its genes and partly by its environment”; (3) parts are systemically related—“components of societies, organisms, and ecosystems are causally related to one another in multiple and interacting positive and negative feedback loops”; (4) parts are internally related—“they are what they are because of their relationships with one another” (273–75). Seeing “land” as a set of interrelated systems, involved in Deweyan “transactions,” would challenge much about contemporary conventional farming, which is increasingly separated and specialized.
Leopold’s concern for the “land” included concern for other animals, as they are members of the biotic community on which humans depend. In particular he developed a concern for wolves. Early in his life Leopold had hunted wolves as part of the government’s wolf eradication program. As a hunter he saw wolves as competition and bought into the idea that eliminating the wolf would result in more big game for him to hunt. While he remained an avid hunter throughout his life, and sought to conserve nature primarily so that ecosystems would be healthy enough to ensure a variety of species to hunt, hunting wolves changed how he understood things. One particular encounter with a dying wolf (dying by his gun) and her dead and wounded pups was transformative: “We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then and have known ever since that there was something new to me in those eyes, something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters’ paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view” (138–39). Leopold came to understand that the wolf played an important role in the health of the ecosystem and that the wolf had a life of its own that deserved respect. As wolf eradication proceeded, Leopold saw deer and elk herds grow in size and forests become decimated: “I now suspect that just as a deer herd lives in mortal fear of its wolves, so does a mountain live in mortal fear of its deer. And perhaps with better cause, for while a buck pulled down by wolves can be replaced in two or three years, a range pulled down by too many deer may fail of replacement in as many decades.” Leopold went on to connect his observation with cattle ranchers as well: “So also with cows. The cowman who cleans his range of wolves does not realize that he is taking over the wolf’s job of trimming the herd to fit the range. He has not learned to think like a mountain. Hence we have dustbowls, and rivers washing the future into the sea” (147). The desire to protect livestock from predation was, and is still, a central threat to the lives of many nonhuman predator species. I will discuss the relationship between livestock and wolves more in the final chapter, but here I would like to point out that raising animals for humans to kill and eat has always meant finding ways to keep those livestock animals safe from other animals who would also eat them (as already discussed in chapter 2 with regard to fish). In this sense, many ranchers find themselves “at war” with those predators, even as they protect and care for livestock animals. That was evident when we visited Hutton.
When we arrived at Hutton’s ranch she invited us into her house. One of the first things she said to us was, “My rifle’s in the laundry room and the safety’s off.” While my mind flashed to the safety of the students (as in the boat), she explained that a raccoon had been killing her cats and she intended to be ready to kill it. For Hutton all animals are part of the natural system in which we live. She had a strong relationship with her dog, Jo, and her twelve remaining cats. When the raccoon next came through the cat door she ended its life. Since then she has experimented with ways of discouraging the raccoons from coming around the house and her cats. She didn’t like the idea of killing a raccoon, but she needed to protect herself, her dog, and her cats. A similar tension can be found between her business of killing cattle and her caring very much about their happiness and well-being while they are alive. She told us of her interest in various animal welfare standards. She is now certified by Animal Welfare Approved. When asked whether she thought the standards went far enough, she said they went “further than most are ready to go.”
The standards for the Animal Welfare Approved certification are extensive. They begin by requiring farmers to be committed to the health of the land, the animals, and their local community. Some of the highlights include the following: that animals must be raised on pasture or range; that animals never be fed animal by-products; that hormones or growth promoters never be used; that animals be seen and attended to regularly; that animals be slaughtered in an approved facility; and that animals be able to express natural social behaviors and undertake natural physical activities. The well-being of the animal must come before its marketability, so if it is in need of treatment with antibiotics they must be administered. Not treating sick and injured animals is grounds for removal. Euthanasia must be performed if pain and suffering cannot be alleviated.
The bulk of the standards, though, are species-specific—recognizing that different animal beings have different needs. The Animal Welfare Approved (AWA) standards say, “All standards address every aspect of each species’ lifecycle needs from birth to death” (“Standards”). Their standards for beef cattle deserve a brief description so that they can be contrasted with more common practices used in the beef industry today. For beef cattle one of the first standards is that the breed used must be appropriate to the use and to the environmental conditions of range life. Cloned or genetically engineered stock are prohibited, as are any breeding practices that have negative health impacts. No use of artificial insemination or embryo transfer is allowed, and the cows must be capable of independent live births. The farmer must work with a qualified expert to develop a health plan that focuses on preventive care and addresses nutrition, pasture management, manure management, and the avoidance of stress. The cattle must be kept in stable social groups. Calves should be reared by their mothers and not weaned until eight months of age; weaning should occur as naturally as possible. Tail-docking and dehorning are not allowed in cattle, but castration and disbudding (the inhibition of horn growth) are allowed within certain parameters. Ear cuts and branding are prohibited, though ear tags and tattoos are permitted.
There are general directions that the cattle must have access to sufficient food and water, free from competition. Importantly, however, the standards acknowledge that there are differences from farm to farm: “A pasture management plan must be in place that addresses the specific farm site” and ensures clean, nutritional pasture that is not overgrazed or otherwise eroded. No specific grazing method is mandated. In extreme weather conditions housing of the animals is permitted, with specific requirements for bedding, light, and ventilation. The livestock must be protected from predators. The use of guard dogs and live traps is allowed for this purpose. Rats and mice must be controlled, though some methods of control are prohibited. Any dogs used for guarding or herding purposes must be kept and handled according to AWA standards as well. Cattle must be handled in a calm manner, with no use of electric prods or abuse. Transportation of cattle must limit stress, not expose them to extreme weather, and not exceed eight hours (unless no approved slaughterhouse is available at that distance). No injured or sick animals, or young calves, may be transported. No cattle can be sold to feeder operations. On-site slaughter in a mobile unit is preferred and AWA is working to make that more available. Their requirements for slaughterhouses include calm, non-abusive handling, safe flooring, appropriate lighting and ventilation, limited noise to reduce stress, and complete stunning. Hutton became Animal Welfare Approved because their philosophy matches her own: “I am trying to do what is best for the animals—including people—and the earth—from the soil to the air. Letting nature do the work, by harvesting the solar energy, makes my life more enjoyable” (“Grass Fed Beef”).
Hutton refers to her connection with her cattle as something akin to ESP, saying that she can be away from the animals and know she is needed. She attributes this ability to a kinesthetic personality and the quiet and solitude of the land she lives on with her cats and cattle. While she is concerned about animal welfare, and very attuned to her cattle, she does hold the opinion that “these animals are sacrificing themselves for us.” She views animals as having legitimate lives that humans must respect. Since she truly believes that the animals are sacrificing themselves, when she says that an animal gives its life for human use, she does not mean to imply that humans have the right to dominate other animals. Humans must respect other animals while they live and when they die. When we went out in the field, she discussed different individuals. When our presence started to make the cattle uneasy we left the field. We were able to look around and ask questions, but she did not want our visit to disturb the cattle.
One of her main concerns at the time of our visit was the slaughter of her cattle. With the increasing centralization of meat processing over the last sixty years, the number of slaughterhouses declined. Between 1980 and 1999 the number of slaughter plants for cattle in the United States decreased from more than 600 to about 170 (“Summary of Meat Processing”). Most will not take in the smaller number of animals from independent producers like Hutton. This means increased transportation time for the animals. Transportation is stressful, and various weather conditions can cause them to suffer in a number of ways. Hutton is lucky to be located fairly close to the Livestock Processing Cooperative in Odessa, Washington, but her cattle still have to travel a minimum of 120 miles to a slaughterhouse. This was something she wanted to change but it’s hard for the small abattoirs to compete and stay in business.
Hutton’s ranch represents an alternative to the main beef industry in the United States. Little about the life of her cattle—other than the end they meet—is shared by the animals that provide the beef found in most stores and restaurants. The AWA standards are at odds with most current mainstream practices and require that the cattle produced under their standards do not emerge from mainstream production or end their lives in that system. While Hutton is working with cattle bred to excel in beef production, she has chosen not to participate in the increasing specialization of cattle and the increasing segmentation of the life and death of cattle. A little more history will help provide a fuller understanding of most contemporary beef production.
Along with the diversity of breeds imported to the United States in the 1800s, there also came increasing specialization. Cattle that were dual-purpose began to be crossed with the goal of creating cows that were better at producing either milk or beef. This was seen as a way to increase output and profit. In addition to improving the stock, farmers looked to husbandry practices as a way to increase their profit. While grazing cattle requires less input of labor from the farmer, it results in limited weight gain and it takes longer for the cattle to fatten. So the practice of grazing cattle on specifically grown crop lands began to increase. Eventually this moved to confining the cattle and bringing the food to them, but more on that later. The point here is that as the East Coast became more settled and industrialized, farming and grazing were pushed west. Grazing was largely not compatible with farming since animals damage crops. So livestock were pushed even further west. This migration was enabled by the development of railroads, which made it possible to ship the cattle to market rather than drive them on the hoof.
Beef cattle are part of the mythology of the West, along with the horse, cowboys, and American Indians. In fact the stories of these groups are very intertwined. In her book Creatures of Empire: How Domestic Animals Transformed Early America, Virginia DeJohn Anderson argues that the cattle the European settlers brought and bred disrupted the American Indians’ way of life and understanding of the world. Cattle transformed the local flora and fauna and so interfered with Native hunting and cultivation practices; they introduced new parasites and diseases with which both the Native peoples and other native animal beings had to contend; they confounded the Indians’ understanding of other animal beings. For the Indians, other animal beings were powerful spirits in their own right, not things that could be owned. The first cattle (and other livestock) brought by the settlers were mostly allowed to roam freely because the settlers did not have the wherewithal to fence and feed them. And yet if an Indian killed one of these beings, they were punished for violating someone’s property rights. The early colonists would often send their cattle ahead of them into Indian territory they wanted to settle and use any killing or theft of the cattle as an excuse to do violence to the Indians. In this way, the cattle who were initially intended by settlers to serve as way to help “civilize” the Native populations by helping them learn to settle down and be industrious farmers actually served to further disrupt and unsettle them. Anderson writes, “As it became clear that colonists intended for Indian livestock-keeping to spawn a host of other changes, the animals provoked even more native resentment than what was already generated by the creatures’ prodigious ability to make nuisances of themselves. Symbols of civility to the English, livestock threatened to become symbols of cultural annihilation to Indians” (206).
As European settlement pushed west, farms replaced the rangeland where ranchers grazed their cattle and sheep. The “removal” of Native peoples, and the bison on which they depended, was seen as necessary in order to make room for the cattle. Edward E. Dale published The Range Cattle Industry in 1930. There he wrote, “As population increased settlers advanced steadily westward, pushing before them not only the Indians but also those livestock raisers who wished to keep near the border of settlement in order to pasture their animals on the unoccupied and unclaimed lands beyond. . . . For a century and more it was there, a kind of twilight zone with the light of civilization behind it, and the darkness of savagery before. The livestock raisers could not move too rapidly nor push too far out into the wilderness because of the savage tribes of Indians that occupied it” (xii–xiv). When the book was reissued in 1960 as The Range Cattle Industry: Ranching on the Great Plains from 1865 to 1925 he repeated this statement. This is not surprising, as it wasn’t until the 1960s and 1970s that growing American Indian activism began to change how non-Natives wrote about Native Americans and the genocide of Native Americans. It does, however, provide a look at how the story of the West was, and often still is, told and understood. General Nelson Miles, a military leader in the late 1800s who was involved in the massacre at Wounded Knee (1877), said, “When we get rid of the Indians and buffalo, the cattle . . . will fill this country” (Rifkin 73). As Native Americans and bison were seen to stand in the way of the cattle industry, today environmentalists and various endangered species are seen to do the same.
According to Dale, in the 1800s, constraints posed by the shrinking of what was perceived as unoccupied (and so available) land pushed ranchers to “reduce their herds and market animals at an earlier age to feeders in the corn belt to be finished for market on grain” (xiv). When cattle were driven to market, they lost weight on the long walk, and so it was common to fatten them up on corn right before going to market to help mitigate the lost value. As the corn belt expanded it became more profitable for ranchers to sell their cattle to a feeder in the Midwest who would then market the cattle. The industry started to separate into specialties: the raiser, the grazier, the feeder, and the packer. Stall-fed cattle became common. By 1860 the railroads made it possible to move the grazing cattle further west and still have them return east to fatten and kill. By 1891 Chicago, the railroad hub, was the packing center of the nation. Texas and Missouri became prime sources of cattle, while Illinois and Iowa became cattle-feeding centers (Bidwell and Falconer 391, 397–98).
With railroad transport removing the need to focus on the hardiness to survive the drive to market, breeding of cattle began to focus on other traits, such as faster maturity. This meant it became profitable to slaughter cattle at younger and younger ages. This could again make it possible to raise some cattle on grass and give the range cattle industry new life. According to Dale, this created two parts to “cow country”: cattle were bred in Texas, New Mexico, and the Indian Territory (present-day Oklahoma) and then they grazed in the central and northern plains in Kansas, Nebraska, the Dakotas, Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado (71). Ironically, this system profited from U.S. government contracts to supply meat for the Indians who could no longer hunt for themselves due to policies set by that same government. As refrigeration became possible in the 1880s, U.S. beef became a craze in England, and cattle interests grew in size and power—for example, the Wyoming Stock Growers Association operated as a part of the territorial government (Dale 102). With the pressure for land on which to graze cattle increasing, many ranchers moved cattle onto Indian and public lands—sometimes with permission, often without. When President Cleveland ordered cattle removed from these lands it resulted in the overstocking of already highly grazed lands. Combined with a bad winter in 1886–87, the overstocking resulted in many dead cattle. Ranchers had to decrease the number of cattle and increase the amount of feed and care provided to them. Again, improved stock was needed to make this a profitable arrangement (108–11).
Dale remarks that when the Indian Territory was opened to settlement in 1889, the cattle being grazed there had nowhere to go: “When the great Indian reservations were opened to settlement it is popularly believed that the land was taken from the Indian and given to the white man. As a matter of fact the Indian did not use the land so as an economic factor in the history of the region is negligible. The man who really used these lands was the ranchman, and what really happened in the opening of the large Indian reservations to settlement was that the land was taken from the cattleman and given to the farmer, or its use changed by governmental action from grazing stock to the growing of crops” (156). Blind to his dismissal of Indian rights and culture, Dale focuses only on the loss of space for grazing cattle. As pasture became too expensive, corn states became the feeding ground for cattle. He writes, “Forced off the Indian lands, these cattle must either be marketed or thrown upon the already over-stocked ranges of the North. The scarcity and increased cost of pasturage brought the ranchmen of the plains into still closer relationship with the corn belt. Instead of attempting to mature and fatten animals for market upon the grass alone, they began more and more to ship young steers to the corn belt to be finished upon hay and corn” (113). A division of labor was set in place with one region rearing cattle and another fattening them for market. Given increasing land prices, it was cheaper for those in the feeding region to pay the freight to ship the cattle than to raise them themselves. Both groups desired better breeding to help increase their profit. They wanted breeding that, on the one hand, would produce cattle that grew larger faster, and, on the other, would allow the cattle to put fat on easily.
To do this, breeders focused on high-grade shorthorns and the hardy qualities of Herefords—the very cattle we saw on Hutton’s ranch. With “better” breeding and the feeding of corn, slaughter weights went up even as slaughter age went down. Slaughter ages went from five or seven years old down to two (162). Feeding no corn or other grains, Hutton slaughters at eighteen to twenty-two months of age. These changes in breeding and feeding were just the start of a major shift in the U.S. cattle industry. One of the effects of the change was a fattier, more marbled meat that people like to eat. The corn diet, however, has consequences for the cattle and for the humans who eat them. Some ranchers, like Hutton, have tried to provide an alternative for both the cattle and the consumer. Two other operations that try to do things differently are those of Lee and Joe Markholt—uncle and nephew.
Lee Markholt raises organic cattle near Tacoma, Washington. His choices about how to farm were influenced by his concerns for the health of the land and for the health of the people eating his animals. When speaking about his motivation for switching from a conventional to an organic ranch he said that it was important to maintain a balance between humans and the earth, thereby creating “better” or reciprocal conditions: “It is better for both human health and earth health.” He wanted to use methods that were radically different from the chemicalization and artificialization common in commercial, corporate U.S. agriculture. He said, “Better taste, better for the earth, healthier—one turns the clock back fifty years with organic. Better than ‘advancement.’”
His operation is unusual in that the cattle’s whole lives are spent under the care of one set of people. The broodstock live a few counties south of Lee’s meat shop and ranch. He has one Piedmontese bull and a herd of Angus breeding cows there. His pastures have been certified organic for over fifteen years. When it becomes necessary, the cattle eat certified organic hay from eastern Washington. This is a big expense, with the organic hay costing $605 per ton versus $150 per ton for nonorganic hay. Their diet is supplemented only with oats and barley, which he feeds so that he can move the cattle from pasture to pasture calmly and on his own. (When we went out into the field, Lee was immediately surrounded by friendly cattle who took an interest in meeting us.) There is straw in the barn where the cattle can go for shelter. This straw is also certified organic—just in case they eat it. With a closed herd he has had no need to inoculate any of his cattle. While the brood cows are allowed to be wormed in the third trimester, Lee had not wormed in the four years prior to our visit. He uses fecal tests to monitor his cattle and rotates them among his pastures to cut the parasite cycle. Lee’s farm was one of the first twenty in the state of Washington to be certified organic. He noted that there is a lot of bureaucracy involved in being certified organic, but he thinks it’s worth it.
The main reason Lee promotes organic products is human health. “Humans can’t be healthy unless the land on which their food is produced is also healthy.” Over the last decade or so there has been growing criticism of how food is produced in the United States. As Peter Singer (along with many others) points out, the standard American diet is heavy in meat, sugar, and fat; we consume large amounts of processed foods and fast food. Films like Supersize Me, King Corn, Forks over Knives, and Food, Inc. have all served to raise public awareness. Some concerns are environmental—depletion of top-soil, contamination of water with chemicals and manure, use of water and oil in production, and the clearing of forests for crop production and grazing to name a few. Some concerns focus on the well-being of animals: the level of confinement in Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations (CAFOs), the inability of livestock to express natural physical and social behaviors, unnatural and unhealthful diets, and the pain and suffering involved in transport and slaughter. Still others focus on human health: the chemicals used in producing food (herbicides, pesticides, fertilizers), the use of hormones and antibiotics, increasing reliance on genetically modified organisms (GMOs), and various foodborne illnesses and diseases.
Some of these concerns overlap. It turns out that if one is concerned about getting sick from the meat one eats, one should probably pay attention to the welfare of meat animals while they are alive. Some of the main concerns connected to beef include E. coli 0157:H7 and Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (BSE)—better known as “mad cow disease.” These have been highly publicized and much discussed. Most people became aware of E. coli 0157:H7 when it sickened and killed people in 1993—starting with a Jack in the Box in western Washington not far from Lee’s ranch. E. coli from corn-fed cattle is resistant to acid and so more dangerous to humans. It turns out that feeding cows corn changes the pH balance in their stomachs, causing acidosis. The rumen (that is, the first section of a cow’s stomach) can then ulcerate and allow bacteria to enter the bloodstream. This allows the virulent strain of E. coli to populate the cattle and increase the risk of contamination of the meat during the slaughter process. Further, since most of these cattle are housed in confined feedlots, they stand in each other’s manure and pass the organism around the herd. Manure gets caked on the hides of the cattle as well. Given the speed at which slaughter lines work, it is not hard for the E. coli to get on the meat from either the hide or the stomach. Once it is on some part of the meat it can be spread further if that meat goes for hamburger. In the highly centralized slaughter industry we now have, one hamburger usually contains meat from at least one hundred cattle. So a few cattle can contaminate a very large quantity of meat. Interestingly, the response to the 1993 outbreak was new regulations for processing and cooking hamburger meat. There were few if any suggestions for changing how we feed, house, or slaughter cattle. Mad cow disease changed that to some extent. BSE is a variant of the human Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease known as vCJD. There is also a variant currently found in farmed elk. The origins of the disease are found in a longtime disease of sheep called scrapie. Although the first case of BSE in UK cattle was recorded in 1986, the first signs of a problem came in the 1990s, not long after there was an outbreak of hoof and mouth disease. Eventually it was determined that feeding practices had included feeding animal parts to cattle. Since cattle are herbivores this qualifies as an unnatural diet.
Less ominous-sounding than mad cow disease and E. coli 0157:H7, but equally troubling to many, is the ubiquitous use of antibiotics and other growth promoters in cattle-feeding operations. There is growing concern about the overuse of antibiotics in livestock production resulting in antibiotic-resistant strains of microbes. There is also concern about trace levels of antibiotics and hormones in meat causing health issues. It is interesting that just as humans are experiencing rising levels of food allergies and sensitivities, the same seems to be true of many dogs and cats who are fed products made from industrial livestock.
This account provides a picture of some of the motivations people have for raising and consuming organic cattle. It is important to note, though, that organic certification for beef requires no particular attention to most issues of animal welfare. The organic label is focused on what does and does not go into the cattle—food and medications. To yield meat that can be labeled organic, they cannot eat food that was produced using synthetic fertilizers and pesticides, and they cannot be given antibiotics and hormones. Often, in order to keep the cattle alive and healthy without the use of antibiotics and hormones it is necessary to raise fewer cattle and allow them a more natural environment. But this is not required and does not always happen. The animals used to produce organic meat (and dairy products) can be raised in very confined conditions that frustrate their natural physical and social behaviors even though organic standards call for the accommodation of natural behaviors such as grazing. And, in the end, most still end up at USDA-approved slaughterhouses where the meat will be mixed with that of feedlot cattle more likely exposed to lethal E. coli and BSE. Salmonella, campylobacter, and listeria can also be added to the list. According to the USDA, in 2014 there were ninety-eight meat recalls (these are voluntary)—for a total of 18,675,102 pounds of meat. There have been numerous meat recalls in 2015, one of which involved 13.5 tons of beef. Recalls are common enough that they are reported on the news as just an ordinary event.
Concerned about his health, Lee no longer drinks or uses Copenhagen. Ironically, he also eats less beef. But he wants good meat when he does eat it, as do his customers. He said films like Food, Inc. have increased his customer base and made them more informed. Since his customers are educated about the food industry there are few questions or complaints about the higher prices for his meat. Since they are informed, though, they do have questions about how he treats the land and the animals. “One’s word must be backed by practice,” he says. The animals’ well-being is a concern, and health (of both human and other animal beings) is important too.
In responding to our first question about how he views the human relationship with nature, Lee spoke of a human partnership with nature: we have a responsibility to “treat this great earth with respect.” “Pure, wholesome, natural food” is good: good for us, and good for the earth. He tested the meat from his cattle once and found that it was close to salmon for providing omega-3 fatty acids. Grass-fed meat is generally lower than grain-fed meat in total fat and saturated fat. It is also higher in omega-3 fatty acids, which are considered helpful with heart disease, rheumatoid arthritis, and depression. Given these benefits, Lee can make a profit with a niche market and remain committed to his principles. The formation and implementation of a philosophy or set of beliefs is very important to Lee. He noted that economic sustenance through farming is difficult. He believes that conventional farming is “on the way out” but organic farming is here to stay. The “economic recession” proved difficult (we visited in 2010), but with the exception of the previous two years Lee had turned a profit and hoped to do so again soon.
To help make a profit, Lee ran The Meat Shop of Tacoma. Here he cut his meat, processed wild game, and sold organic products from other farmers. So while he no longer raises pigs or chickens for meat, he sells pork and chicken produced by others who share his principles. He sells cheese from Organic Valley (a cooperative of family-owned farms who focus on producing organic dairy products and eggs). He also sold eggs from his own hens—four dollars a dozen. Unlike their counterparts in commercial egg operations, Lee’s chickens eat an organic feed, and he keeps the hens “until they expire.” He said a prolific egg-layer lays about two hundred eggs per year (as opposed to “an egg a day” in most commercial operations).
When it’s time to take the animals to slaughter, Lee said, he tries not to think about the animals or the process. To help reduce the stress for the cattle, Lee helped start the cooperative USDA-approved mobile slaughter truck in Pierce County, Washington. He uses that truck to slaughter his cattle whenever he can. He usually slaughters about six cattle at a time when they are eighteen to twenty-four months old and said he’d never get involved with veal calves. He feels attached to his land and his animals, and many have names. While he repeated that he didn’t like to think about it, he did say, “This process involves killing. It is killing.” Seeming to sum up his commitment, the following quotation hung on a sign in the meat shop:
Have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts. —CHARLES DICKENS
However, this can be a hard philosophy to live by when dealing out death. Like Hutton’s, Lee’s operation faces the tension between raising animals to kill them and treating them well while they’re alive—and it again raises the issue of killing some animals in order to protect livestock. Reminding me of our visit with Hutton, Lee told us about a raccoon who had gone after his chickens; he “ended” its life with his thirty-thirty. Protecting the well-being of his livestock entails harming other animals. In the end, what he does means the death of cattle and chickens. Before that death, however, he tries to use “a touch that never hurts.” Most of his cattle are naturally polled (born without horns), so he does not dehorn. He does use ear tags for identification and to let him know who each one’s mother is (ear tags are permitted by the AWA standards Hutton uses). He moves them between pastures and onto and off trucks with grain, not cattle prods. He talks with them when he’s out in the field and “gives them a good scratch.”
His story adds another twist. The money to start his organic, grass-fed beef operation—a business that respects the land and animals—comes from working in construction, logging, bull-riding, and bull-wrestling. He also raises racing quarter horses. When we asked how he felt about the treatment of the bulls (and other cattle) in rodeos he expressed that he did not have concerns. He noted that they travel a lot but since the animals are worth a lot they are treated well. He said they “get accustomed to that way of life.” This demonstrates the complexity of the moral issues regarding animals and the environment. Lee’s ability to embark on this grass-fed beef business relied on practices many see as exploiting the land and environment (logging and construction) and exploiting other animal beings for entertainment (racing and rodeos).
Joe Markholt is Lee’s nephew and often helped his uncle with his business at the Meat Shop. He also helps train his uncle’s race horses. Joe is a specialist in butchering and cutting meat and raises some twenty-five beef cattle of his own. They are Limousine, Angus, shorthorn, and Hereford crosses, chosen for their calm temperament, height (they can clear brush), and hardiness. Along with his wife, Sona, they run Salmon Creek Meats in Mossy Rock, Washington. Since our visit with Lee, he has closed The Meat Shop. He still raises organic grass-fed cattle, though, and sells them through Salmon Creek Meats. Another family connection is that Joe too was a bull rider and still judges local bull-riding events. He also uses his knowledge of anatomy, garnered from his meat-cutting experience, to the advantage of horses in equine massage. By combining the massage business with cutting meat for customers and selling the meat from his own cattle, he and his wife make a living. There are several motivations for the work they do: one motivation, as it is for Lee, is a focus on human health; another is to provide themselves and their daughter with a certain kind of life. They live in a beautiful spot, and their daughter Uriah rides the ranch horses in roping and barrel-racing competitions. While we stood in the field with the cattle, Joe talked about the importance of preserving open spaces and knowing the origin of one’s food. As their website says, their central belief is “Respect your body, respect the animal, respect the earth you are borrowing.”
PHOTO 1. Cattle at Salmon Creek Meats. Photo by Sona Markholt.
PHOTO 2. Cattle at Salmon Creek Meats. Photo by Sona Markholt.
Their cattle are not certified organic since the cost and bureaucracy is prohibitive. Joe said that if your customers know you well and know your practices, that is more important than any label: “Often a label can be just for show; the practice is the most important thing.” The cattle are out on pasture; Joe grows the hay they eat when they need it. Like his uncle, he does not dehorn his cattle. He said, “Dehorning is more stressful than castration.” He does tip their horns, however. As opposed to dehorning, which removes the entire horn either by a band or using a tool that slices through the base of the horn, tipping involves using a handsaw at the point of the horn that is 1.25 inches in diameter to remove only the tip. While the procedure causes some discomfort, studies have shown it is much less than that involved in dehorning. He castrates the cattle using bands and does it at a young age—something most animal welfare standards allow. He contrasted this with the pain the cattle feel when banded at six months—a common industry practice. He weans them at six months of age and tries to limit the stress of that event. He moves his cattle among several pastures, and during the summer “they go up the mountain.” Joe uses horses to move his cattle and to go up to check on them. Predation is a risk, but one of the reasons he has the cattle he does is that they can and will protect their young. Mountain lions, coyotes, and wolves are known to be in the area, but with a herd, the risk of loss is limited. The elk share the pastures with cattle—coming and going as they please. While several of the farmers we interviewed have put up fences to keep the elk out, Joe did not. He noted that “it takes a lot of time and money to build a fence to deter elk, and they have a right to be out there too.” He enjoys seeing them. “It’s all about balance. A few wolves can be a good thing—they keep the elk numbers down.” He does worry that government regulations sometimes go too far, though, and “too many wolves gets out of balance, too.”
Since Joe does not sell his meat in the way most people these days buy meat, he has a close relationship with his customers. Most of his customers come out to his place to pick up their meat. This is because Joe sells the cattle live. This is a legal option used by smaller farmers. If customers buy the cattle “on the hoof,” then they can pay Joe to have it slaughtered and the meat cut. This entails buying a whole animal, or going in on shares—a half or a quarter. Joe said that he grew up farming, working with horses, riding bulls, and cutting meat. It’s the life he knows. He’s glad he’s been able to share that life with his daughter as “this type of farming is the only way to go. It’s a lot of work—haying, fencing, butchering—but it’s good work.” It allows his family to live in a beautiful spot, do the things they like to do, and they always have food. In addition to the beef and chicken they raise, they have three goats (all of whom have names), which they used to use for milking. Sona grows produce and they have fruit trees. They raised broiler chickens for five years. The barn, which held one thousand chickens at a time, is still there. Doing the slaughtering and processing on that scale did not fit the lifestyle they had in mind, but he didn’t think the chickens suffered. “They live in the moment,” he said. But the mess and the hours were not worth it.
Joe would not want to raise cattle on the industrial model. He said, “The feedlots are not pretty places to be—for cattle or humans. You don’t get to know your animals.” The cattle at Salmon Creek Meats have names and the people all have relationships with them. When it’s time to butcher them, it’s a sad day. Joe talked about the reaction of his daughter when she was very young. She cried and would not speak with him for days—that was hard for him. But now she is part of the operation and understands how it is possible to love and care for animals even as one uses them. “We’re on top of the food chain,” he said. “That’s how it’s always been. It’s fine to choose to not eat meat. I’ve got no problem with that. But it’s natural for us to eat meat.” He noted that often the reasons people choose not to eat meat include how the animals are treated and what goes into them. Those aren’t an issue on his ranch, though. He is happy to see more alternatives developing and lasting, maintaining that the industrial system of raising cattle is bad for the humans who eat the meat, bad for the humans who raise the cattle, and bad for the cattle and the land. He believes that “inexpensive meat” is bad all the way around and it is not sustainable. It is also part of a system of government (USDA) and corporations that limits people’s choices. Choice is an important issue for Joe, but the choices need to be meaningful: “Big organic is just words. Most certification just creates another bureaucracy and does little for the land and the animals. But that doesn’t mean this kind of ranching can’t feed more people.”
When asked whether this kind of ranching was sustainable on a large scale, Joe pointed to Country Natural Beef. This is a cooperative of ranchers who share a philosophy. Their webpage leads with “Our Product is More than Beef.” Like Joe, they talk about the relationship among the health of the people, the land, and the cattle. Their billboards depict the wildlife that coexists with their cattle. They also discuss the importance of relationships with consumers: “Our consumers know where the cattle come from, and they know the people who produce it. . . . They know what the producers’ land ethics are. They know the product will taste good every time. They know that the cattle are treated well. They know that we embrace humane animal-handling practices” (“The Country Natural Beef Story”). Like Joe and Lee, they have a desire to work with educated customers to find economically and ecologically sustainable ways to produce beef. The ranchers choose breeds of cattle adapted to their local conditions and capable of birthing calves on their own. The ranchers get training on low-stress handling techniques, and, when possible, this includes designing facilities that respect the natural behaviors and instincts of the cattle. This is most important when it comes to loading and transporting the cattle. They write, “Humane processing is a priority and is carried out with great respect. It is sudden, immediate and complete without generating fear or pain in the animal’s final moments” (“Raise Well”).
Country Natural Beef does finish their cattle in feedlots, however, on a low-corn diet. This makes their method a kind of hybrid approach to raising cattle and allows them to produce enough beef, on a predictable timetable, to supply stores and restaurants. They sell beef to the Northwest Burgerville chain and the McMenamins chain of brewpubs. Their meat can be found in a number of grocery stores, including many Whole Foods stores. Given that most people don’t want to give up their fast food, and most don’t want to buy their beef half a steer at a time, many find this kind of approach a good middle ground.
To better understand why some people are motivated to seek out ranchers like Hutton and the Markholts (and CNB), I return to what that industry is like today. These first three cattle ranchers all represent some version of what many people like to think of when they imagine the life of cattle. Peaceful cattle grazing in a pasture. They are raising what is now called grass-fed beef. Since cows are designed by their evolutionary history to eat grass, and people who ate beef through most of human history ate cattle who ate grass, it is a bit odd that this is now a specialty market and far from the norm for the over thirty million beef cattle in the United States.
An operation with a foot in both worlds is “Coho Creek Ranch” (this is a pseudonym) in Lewis County, Washington. This ranch, which advertises itself as raising grass-fed beef, has been in the same family for over 150 years. They are doing much to recover segments of prairie and restore the creek to being a salmon run. “Coho Creek” consists of 550 acres where about 115 head of cattle are raised. Forty percent of the grassland is protected under a 2002 Grassland Reserve Program certified through the USDA. We saw native camass flowers in abundance, indicating the return of the prairie ecosystem. While they have not used any commercial herbicides, pesticides, fungicides, or fertilizers for about six years, they use chicken manure that comes from industrial chicken farms.
Their main goal is to keep the farm fertile and intact. They did recognize the interconnectedness of the grass, trees, soil, animals, and plants and said that “the operation depends on nature’s symbiotic mechanisms.” To borrow a distinction from Lichatowich’s Salmon without Rivers, they rely on the natural economy rather than on the industrial economy to preserve the land. The natural economy consists of the sun, soil, water, decay processes, and the like, while the industrial economy relies on oil, chemicals, drugs, and the like. The ranchers at “Coho Creek” have a strong relationship with the land because of the long family history on the land. The connection to the land, however, seems to outweigh relationships with the cattle. They do practice cross-wire weaning, with mothers and calves able to see and talk to each other across a fence, because this reduces stress for the animals. But the reason for this didn’t seem to be a direct concern for the animals but rather a desire to reduce stress-related disease and weight loss. Similarly, they do not use pesticides on the animals but rather cull any animals prone to succumbing to parasitic infestations. Since they do not breed all their own cattle, there is a risk of importing disease with the new arrivals, so they vaccinate. They say their goal is “for the cattle to enjoy their life while they are on the ranch.” Again, however, this seems to be mostly because happy, unstressed cattle are healthier and thrive. They manage the cattle for profit, with the main goal being to keep the ranch intact and in the family. At no time did they speak of the cattle as part of nature. Instead the cattle are seen as a tool to help restore the natural prairie while also providing a food resource for humans. There was a focus on utilizing symbiotic relationships with the flora and fauna and on preserving the land. That the cattle are seen as a resource is also evident in the fact that the bulk of the cattle are sold to industrial operations to finish in a feedlot. Only five or six of the calves are held back each year to be sold when two years old as grass-fed beef.
So while “Coho Creek” markets grass-fed cattle they also participate in the more common, and more segregated and specialized, approach of raising beef cattle. Today some ranchers focus on producing seed stock—those cattle who will breed. Others focus on raising and grazing the babies—as “Coho Creek” is doing. Still others focus on finishing the cattle in a feedlot—they are feeders. From here the cattle are sold to processing plants where they are slaughtered and butchered. Often one company will have arms in more than one part of production. For instance, some who supply the bull for breeding buy back those offspring to finish and sell for meat. In this way the cattle industry is beginning to approach something like the arrangement found in the poultry and swine industries. As will be discussed later (chapters 8 and 9), in these industries many farmers are really just contract workers, raising livestock for someone else who owns the animal. It has not gone that far with cattle yet. The rancher still owns the cattle and the fact that the breeders buy the offspring of their bulls (“their genetics” as they say) is seen simply as confidence in how the cattle produced from their breeding stock will “finish” and do on the market.
This highly segmented and specialized approach to beef production is an example of the contemporary scientific and industrialized approach to meat production. As discussed above, though, there is a long history of such segmentation and specialization. First made possible by the railroads and refrigeration, this specialization has gone further with the advent of antibiotics, artificial insemination, computers, and the internet. For instance, before effective vaccinations and the advent of antibiotics, it would not have been possible to keep as many cattle as CAFOs do. As discussed earlier, in the 1800s stock associations began keeping records of breeding and production in order to find the crosses that would improve the market value of various cattle. Today, with those records on computers the level of analysis available is quite sophisticated. That, combined with the use of artificial insemination, can allow one bull to breed a countless number of cows. Today, breeders sell “genetics.” Other companies sell the service of inseminating the cows; some specialize in doing this out in the field. Hormones are used to bring all the cows in season at the same time (synchronization) so that they can be inseminated with one visit. Embryo transfer has become its own highly profitable industry.
As has been documented by many contemporary writers (Michael Pollan, Eric Schlosser, and Jeremy Rifkin, among others), today, as in the 1800s, cheap corn is the engine of the cattle industry. Corn-fed cattle produce meat that is fattier. The meat-eating population of the United States is hooked on corn-fed beef, as is much of the world. Another perceived advantage of corn is that when it is cheap, so is beef. However, beef prices rise as other uses of corn are developed (e.g., using corn in the production of ethanol). As mentioned at the start of this chapter, rising prices offer one explanation for the decline in beef consumption in the United States (though there is increased consumption in many parts of the world). Another is that too much red meat is not good for human health. This is more true of corn-fed beef than of grass-fed beef. Even with grass-fed beef, though, too much can be a problem. While vegetarianism and veganism are still minority diet choices, reducing one’s meat consumption is very mainstream. For example, health care companies such as the Washington-based Group Health Cooperative openly suggest eating less meat as a way to improve one’s health. And red meat is often the main object of concern. Eating too much of anything can be a health problem; for humans, eating too much of any kind of meat is usually a health problem. But some of the concerns with beef are as much or more about what the cattle are eating than they are about the fact that the humans are eating the cattle. There is evidence that grass-fed beef, such as that raised by Hutton and the Markholts, is lower in total fat than grain-fed beef but higher in omega-3 fatty acids. It is higher in vitamins such as B and E, as well as in calcium, magnesium, potassium, lutein, and zeaxanthin. But little is likely to change for the majority of cattle in the United States, as people like the taste of corn-fed beef, and they like that this beef costs them less (at least on the face of it) than the grass-fed alternative. Grass-fed cattle can’t supply the fast food and supermarket industries. To change the lives of cattle would require that humans reorganize much about their lives.
“Coho Creek” represents one step in such a reorganization by going beyond the reductionist view found in the mainstream cattle industry, working to see how parts are systemically related and understanding that the whole is more than the sum of its parts. On this ranch the ecosystem comes first, not the individual species or animals. This is reminiscent of an approach rooted in deep ecology, which will be discussed in the next chapter. The restoration of the prairie ecosystem entails the return of the native camass flower, and so the family relies on the cattle to graze down the fields and allow the flower to flourish. The restoration of the salmon necessitates keeping the cattle away from the stream, so the family arranges their pastures accordingly. The return of the salmon will help improve the health of the creek and bring back more wildlife. Not wanting to hunt potential predators, the family leaves the younger cattle in with the cows who will protect them—mimicking the natural ecosystems. They do not generally talk about individual animals, or even individual species. It’s about the whole system. They have modified the land, as all creatures do, but they have not taken a dominating approach. They are trying to integrate the agricultural use of the land into the natural ecosystem of the area in order to protect it from other kinds of development. They have clearly rejected the notion of farm as “food-factory” and have taken on Leopold’s view that “the criterion of success is a harmonious balance between plants, animals, and people; between the domestic and the wild, between utility and beauty” (Callicott 278). Nonetheless, in order to be economically viable, they continue to participate in the industrialized food-factory model with the majority of their cattle. It’s not easy to pull out of the system—for farmers or consumers.
Another way some farmers have found it economically viable to raise cattle and restore the land is to partner with groups like Ducks Unlimited to restore and preserve wetlands. Scott Myers of Sweet Grass Farm, located on Washington State’s Lopez Island, is committed to raising cattle, improving the health of the land, and supporting wildlife. The use of the word farm here is important. Myers says that ranches usually focus on the livestock while farms focus on plant crops and soil health. His focus is on the health of the land and grass; the cattle are a harvesting tool that helps maintain the health of the land. The presence of healthy wetlands for birds is an added benefit.
We were not able to visit this farm, so we conducted our interview by phone. Meyers began our conversation by pointing to the difficulty of changing the Western European relationship with land and nature. He described this relationship as a “conquering, subduing relationship of humans over nature.” “On this view,” he said, “nature presents difficulties for the health of crops and fruits” and one must attempt to avoid such problems. He had grown up in a family that raised fruit trees, and he described that life as a “battle with nature.” Myers raises grass-fed cattle because this can be done in cooperation with, rather than in opposition to, nature. He has a holistic approach to his farm, capitalizing on symbiosis within the land ecosystem.
Myers raises Wagyu cattle because they are a hardy breed who are able to store fat in their muscles and so produce the desired marbling effect even when raised solely on grass. Myers’s herd is a closed herd and he focuses on improving “the genetics.” The quality of the beef is dependent on the health of the soil and the quality of the grass but is also dependent on having comfortable cattle who are not stressed. He says he and his family are out with the cattle every day, so the cattle are comfortable and curious around humans. He said, “We select for quality physical attributes supported by carcass data. Emotional stability is another key quality in creating a zero stress herd. Breeding alone doesn’t produce the quality we expect, management makes a critical difference. Our lives are integrated with our herd. They are not simply a commodity to us; they are companions and often teachers” (“Wagyu Beef”). Videos on the Sweet Grass website demonstrate the relaxed nature of this herd and show the personal relationship Myers has with the cattle.
Myers’s ultimate goal is to increase the fertility of the land, as he considers himself a custodian of the land. He uses no commercial pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, or fertilizers; the cattle provide the natural nutrients and fertilizer for the pasture. He believes that raising cattle using rotational and organic methods promotes land fertility. He is critical of plowing and molesting the land to grow grain, because it leads to water contamination and land erosion and decreases the land’s fertility and lifespan. He explained his sentiment that to improve the health of the planet, or at least the health of the land in the United States, humans must learn to coexist with plots of land and develop close relationships with the inhabitants and elements of the land. He believes this can be accomplished through sustainable farming methods. The cattle are an important element in his approach, and he has a very intimate relationship with the animals as well as the land. He knows the cattle as individuals and calls to them to move them from pasture to pasture. He participates in a cooperative that manages a mobile USDA slaughter truck that comes to the farm. During the slaughter Myers personally walks his animals into the truck; he thinks he owes this to the cattle.
He says that “harvest” day is the hardest day. It was especially hard the first time, but he acknowledges death as part of life. He is not concerned or worried about his own death and recognizes his small role in a larger, organic whole. He believes that farming gives one such a realistic perspective and provides experience and knowledge based on integrity, observation, and contemplation. This kind of recognition allows him to appreciate and recognize the worth and beauty of nature’s systems and to see the cattle (and himself) as part of this system. Further evidence of this respect for natural systems can be found in the fact that this farm maintains wetlands that attract migratory birds. He has a relationship with Ducks Unlimited in order to try to maintain habitat for the birds who belong in the ecosystems and to limit the damage of invasive bird species. Too many birds can damage the land he is trying to restore. For similar reasons Sweet Grass does not raise other animals. Doing so would require Meyers to feed grain and he believes this requires once again entering a battle with nature that results in a less productive use of land, requiring one to grow a product to feed an animal to feed a human.
The relationship with Ducks Unlimited adds another twist to this story, though. This is not the hunting of predators for protection, but sport hunting. This kind of conservation effort is focused on saving wildlife in order to have a sufficient population for hunting. As their website says, “Ducks Unlimited is the world’s leader in wetlands and waterfowl conservation. DU got its start in 1937 during the Dust Bowl when North America’s drought-plagued waterfowl populations had plunged to unprecedented lows. Determined not to sit idly by as the continent’s waterfowl dwindled beyond recovery, a small group of sportsmen joined together to form an organization that became known as Ducks Unlimited. Its mission: habitat conservation.” They took to heart Aldo Leopold’s argument that a focus on ecosystem health is the most important element in species conservation. They partner with private landowners, including many ranchers and farmers, to protect wetlands and wildlife habitats on their land. To help with this effort they take advantage of government programs such as the Wetlands Reserve Program (WRP) and the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP). Ducks Unlimited says, “These partnerships support what is known as the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation, which has its roots in more than a century’s work by sportsmen and other dedicated conservationists. At the heart of the model is the idea that wildlife is public property and as such is a shared resource that must be conserved for the greater good.” The idea of wildlife as a resource fits well with most people’s view of livestock as a resource. While Leopold’s land ethic promotes the health of ecosystems, the lives of individual animal beings within those ecosystems—domesticated and nondomesticated—is not a focus. Overall balance is the focus.
Ducks Unlimited uses the words of Aldo Leopold to promote their work. “Conservation is a state of harmony between men and land” (A Sand Country 189) appears on some of their materials. Further, Leopold’s joy in hunting is celebrated by citing key passages from his writings: “a lone black duck came out of the west, . . . set his wings and pitched downward. I cannot remember the shot; I remember only my unspeakable delight when my first duck hit the snowy ice with a thud and lay there, belly up, red legs kicking” (129). Similarly, Leopold writes about the first partridge he shot on the wing. His father insisted that he not shoot the birds while in a tree, but only in flight—an ethical code he supported. But there was no limit to his joy when he did kill: “I could draw a map today of each clump of red bunchberry and each blue aster that adorned the mossy spot where he lay, my first partridge on the wing” (129). Describing the different ways different hunters watch the wilderness, Leopold says, “The non-hunter does not watch” (224). He continues, “A man may not care for golf and still be human, but the man who does not like to see, hunt, photograph, or otherwise outwit birds or animals is hardly normal” (227). Further he speaks of the importance of learning to work with dogs and horses (common companions of hunters) and learning to follow an ethical code when alone in the woods, unwatched by other humans (232).
For Leopold hunting is essential to the formation of good human beings, and so we need to preserve ecosystems to help keep hunting possible. Even his famous description of hunting wolves, described earlier in the chapter, works in support of maintaining healthy ecosystems for the hunter to enjoy. It is not that the wolf, or her injured pups, called out to Leopold, but that he took the perspective of the mountain who needs wolves to keep the deer in check so that they don’t destroy the trees and shrubs. He encouraged ranchers to take the same view. Bears were seen by many as predators who needed to be removed to make the land safe for cows. But removing the top predator (who might take a cow a year) upsets the overall balance. Ironically, in many places what was cow country has become tourist country “and as such [has] greater need of bears than of beefsteaks” (145). As with the bobcat, there is something lost with their removal: “By this time the Delta has probably been made safe for cows, and forever dull for adventuring hunters. Freedom from fear has arrived, but a glory has departed from the green lagoons” (152). Leopold goes on to question the sense of progress involved in the removal of these predators: “We forest officers, who acquiesced in the extinguishment of the bear, knew a local rancher who had plowed up a dagger engraved with the name of one of Coronado’s captains. We spoke harshly of the Spaniards who, in their zeal for gold and converts, had needlessly extinguished the native Indians. It did not occur to us that we, too, were the captains of an invasion too sure of its own righteousness” (145). Leopold is able to be critical of actions that seek to remove a group of human or other animal beings in the pursuit of personal gain, encouraging a view that encompasses the many and complex relationships among all life in order to find ways of cooperating for the benefit of all kinds. But at its root, his desire for the healthy, functioning ecosystem is to ensure that hunters, both human and nonhuman, have game to pursue.
On his view, ranchers who seek to remove animal predators do not fully understand how the raising of livestock should fit with other elements in an ecosystem. While their actions have been justified by profit and progress, Leopold says they have been short-sighted: “Man always kills the thing he loves, and so we the pioneers have killed our wilderness. Some say we had to. Be that as it may, I am glad I shall never be young without wild country to be young in” (157–58). He laments the loss of the wilderness and wildlife that he himself helped to remove. He does not think humans are changing their ways of thinking and being, so soon there will be little left to appreciate and few left capable of such appreciation. He writes, “The life of every river sings its own song, but in most the song is long since marred by the discords of misuse. Overgrazing first mars the plants and then the soil. Rifle, trap, and poison next deplete the larger birds and mammals; then comes a park or forest with roads and tourists. Parks are made to bring the music to the many, but by the time many are attuned to hear it there is little left but noise” (159). Leopold was critical of farming and ranching for causing much of the damage to ecosystems and the loss of biodiversity, but he did see some trying to change: “The discontent that labels itself ‘organic farming’ while bearing some of the earmarks of a cult, is nevertheless biotic in its direction, particularly in its insistence on the importance of soil flora and fauna” (260). Some of these farmers “have learned from experience that the wholly tamed farm offers not only a slender livelihood but a constricted life. They have caught the idea that there is pleasure to be had in raising wild crops as well as tame ones. They propose to devote a little spot of marsh to growing native wildflowers” (203). For this revolt to become more widespread there needs to be a larger change in outlook. Instead of a focus on the amount of food produced, the focus should be on the quality of the food. Depleted soils, even when “enhanced” with chemical fertilizers, cannot increase food value. Part of the reason for this failure, on Leopold’s view, is the overreliance on those at the universities who dissect and separate seeds, plants, and animals in order to understand and improve instead of working to understand and build on the relationships among species (162).
One of these failures of understanding has resulted in damage that ranchers still live with today. Plant and animal species move around the globe with the intentional and unintentional help of humans. When such species find a hospitable spot, they can often take over. For example, Leopold noted that cheat grass found a home in the “ready-made seedbed prepared by the trampling hoofs of range livestock” (165). Had the grasses been healthy cheat grass would have had a difficult time making inroads: “The cause of the substitution is overgrazing. When the too-great herds and flocks chewed and trampled the hide off the foothills, something had to cover the raw eroding earth. Cheat did” (165). As it spreads it pushes wildlife and livestock to higher elevations to feed. While the livestock can be fed in the winter, the wildlife find the snows returning them to land with little available food. Leopold lists some of the problematic consequences of this takeover: starving deer, sores in the mouths of cattle, degraded alfalfa fields, trapped ducklings, choked pines, and higher fire danger (167). However, the cheat grass at least stops the erosion that overgrazing would have caused had nothing taken over. At the time he was writing Leopold wondered whether cheat grass would simply be accepted as inevitable, or whether efforts would be made to restore the land. Today cheat grass still presents a challenge to cattle ranchers in the western United States.
Leopold noted that the scientific progress of the time could not “abide that the farmland and the marshland, wild and tame, exist in mutual toleration and harmony” (172). But this is indeed what Ducks Unlimited encourages farmers and ranchers to do. Leopold was not uncritical of Ducks Unlimited, though, and eventually withdrew his membership. In “Conservation Esthetic” he wrote, “When we conclude that we must bait the farmer with subsidies to induce him to raise a forest, or with gate receipts to induce him to raise game, we are merely admitting that the pleasures of husbandry-in-the-wild are as yet unknown both to the farmer and to ourselves” (293). In the end, then, he saw a need to promote a different way of seeing and being in the world. This way of being needs to respond to something deeper than short-term advantage and the profit motive.
I think Leopold’s land ethic was an important step toward a new way of seeing and being in the world and remains a valuable resource. But his work remains rooted in a masculine idealization of hunting and a managerial model that is limiting. I think a pragmatist ecofeminism provides more resources for developing a new way of seeing and being in the world. While industrial agriculture frustrates most moves to this different way of seeing and being in the world, I use the following chapters to show there is hope.
