21 U.S. Food Politics 101

Clare and Dante

 

Rain streamed down the south-facing window, washing away Clare ’ s hopes for the day. Genevieve had said they needed a few more dry days to plant the first outdoor seeds, maybe transplant out the tiny onion starts. Now they would have to wait all over again for the ground to dry. The forecast warned there might be three centimeters of rain with this storm. At least Dante would finally get to give onion Bob his flat top.

The Guardian class schedule was flexible in order to make the most of Mother Nature ’ s fickle displays. When the weather was clear and not too cold, the students worked outside. If it rained and there was plenty to do inside, the greenhouse was an option. If nothing else, during the more dreary days back-to-back classes like they ’d had in January were the final resort. Unfortunately, if the weather pulled a fast one the more interesting teachers weren ’ t always available. And so the class on vertebrate and invertebrate pests, which should have been interesting—Dante had even come—was dry and boring. The teacher lectured endlessly, with no hands-on or small group work. The saving grace was a short video at the end showing a parasitic wasp larvae eating a caterpillar from the inside out.

Clare was grateful the next session would be political history since Stan was always interesting, even when he lectured. A person passionate about his field brings a contagious enthusiasm. Dante, of course, went home early.

“ After the questions from last class, I ’ ve decided to take things more slowly, ” Stan said. “ I did not realize the extent of your lack of knowledge on the subject. Not your fault, ” he added quickly, lest he offend the expectant eyes geared toward him. “ The very idea this class has been added to the Guardian program should have clued me in.

“ Let’ s go back one hundred years. ” He clicked on the slideshow. “ Most of you have been here long enough to know the names of these fruits and vegetables . . . ” On the screen, photos of apples, pears, plums, corn, beans, and potatoes appeared one at a time, melting into the next. “ A hundred years ago in the United States, any person on the street could have identified them. ” Papers had stopped their shuffling, chairs their screechy scooting. Clare could hear the breathing of the man next to her. “ So what happened? ” Stan asked.

“ In 1977, most people were not farmers. Only about 4 percent of the population. Of course today it is less than 1 percent. However, around twenty years before that , in 1955, nearly 10 percent— one in ten people— could say they were farmers. People knew what food was; they knew where it came from. Many of them planted gardens, and the crops grown by farmers were diverse. One small farm—and this was also true in the 1970s—might grow hay and wheat and cherries or berries. They didn ’ t just grow, say, corn . ”

Someone behind Clare was whispering. It was distracting and she wished they would stop.

“ Anyway, a century ago, ” Stan was saying, “ farmers in the U.S. underwent an agricultural revolution. Between 1950 and 1975 agricultural productivity changed more rapidly than at any other time in history up to that point . Although fewer people farmed and farm acreage dropped by 6 percent , production nearly tripled . This was partly due to technology, development of hybrids and other genetic improvements, and the use of pesticides and fertilizers. Which is why I wanted to start today ’ s lesson by looking back one hundred years and not just twenty or fifty years. To see the true beginning of a thing, sometimes you need to look a few decades before the thing seems to have begun. ” While he spoke, Stan had been tossing bullet points of the dates and percentages at the screen. A few students took notes, most just listened.

“ So imagine if you will, giving people the tools they needed to make life easier . Farming was not easy. It was a lot of hard work . You didn ’ t take vacations. And sometimes, if the weather wasn ’ t in your favor or prices for your product were low, maybe you didn ’ t earn any money for the year .” Stan widened his eyes as he said the word year, causing Clare to stifle a snicker.

“ Then, thanks to science, along comes a plethora of labor-saving devices, higher-yielding seeds, and chemicals to fight the fallen world of weeds, diseases, and crop-destroying bugs and varmints. The kids can have an easier life; they can go to college; they ’ re not needed on the farm. Maybe there ’ s not even room for them anymore. No real harm in that—right? ”

Clare looked around. A few heads were nodding in agreement.

“ Enter twenty years after that . Those high-yielding seeds are now patented and owned .” Stan pointed at the board as a new sentence sparkled into existence: Whoever owns the world ’ s seeds controls the world ’ s food supply.

Clare turned. Jason was sitting two rows behind her. His lips were tight, and the furrow between his brows had deepened.

“ Which brings us back to our current dilemma of why you are here and not in your own spacious and fertile country. How did we get to a point where our seeds are held ransom? Permit me to go back even further, to the very beginning of Nipungyo. ” Someone behind Clare hissed. She wasn ’ t sure, but she thought it was Jason.

“ In 1912, then known as Dejarno, Nipungyo began manufacturing over-the-counter drugs such as aspirin and caffeine; those were the early years. The company did well, of course, and in the 1970s began seriously looking into biotechnology. By the 1980s they had created a research group on plant genetics.

“ Even though for centuries people had crossed and saved and coaxed the very best out of seeds in natural ways, Nipungyo wasn ’ t satisfied. They weren ’ t even satisfied with hybrids, a speeding up of the breeding process; Nipungyo scientists became the first to genetically modify plant cells, to mess with the DNA. ”

Stan’ s eyes had a wildness to them. Clare had no idea what he was talking about, but she remembered the word hybrid from her discussion with Marissa when they had looked at seed catalogues.

“ I could go on about everything inherently wrong with that, ” Stan was saying, “ but I want to keep my focus on how you people got to where you are today. Once Nipungyo tinkered with a seed ’ s genetics, they were handed the right to patent the seed and consequently “ own” it. Now, listen up, because there are a lot of plays going on all at once in this game. And remember ” — he pointed to the board —“ Whoever owns the world ’ s seeds controls the world ’ s food supply. So here goes: In 1985 there were no genetically modified crops grown in the U.S. Twenty years later, in 2005, there were 142 million acres. Ooh, I heard that, ” Stan said, addressing the ripple of gasp s sent through the classroom.

“ Did farmers own the seeds? No; they bought them, they planted them, they sold the product. And they signed reams of paperwork specifying what they could and could not do, even after paying good money for the seed. Eventually the GMO seed cross-pollinated with non-GMO seed, and Nipungyo threatened and sued . . . ” He paced across the classroom, hands swinging .

“ I’ m sure you ’ ve heard this part of the story . . . yadda yadda . . . gradually it became difficult for farmers to even buy un patented seed ; it just wasn ’ t available. ” Stan glanced at the clock, shook his head. “ I don ’ t know why I always think I can do this in forty-five minutes.

“ All right, let ’ s fast forward another fifteen years to the twenties. Nipungyo had recognized the biggest barrier to controlling the food supply was the government. So i n the years leading up to the 2020s they systematically infiltrated government positions in the FDA, EPA, CDC. If you become the government, ta-da, number one barrier out of the way. After that, GMO - patented crops faced little opposition from th ose government agencies that should have been looking out for farmers and consumers. Additionally, when grassroots movements sprang up in opposition, the government passed food safety legislation that helped shut them down . . . don’ t worry . . . I know this isn ’ t enough detail . . . we ’ ll have another class covering 2015 ‘ til today . . . ”

Clare looked at the clock. It really was too much information. She had no context for any of this. It ’ s not that she wasn ’ t interested. She had, after all, tried to search it on the Monitor once or twice. Maybe she would ask John about it sometime. Her real interest was in gardening, but she felt it was her duty as a citizen to know the history, to understand the politics.

Stan was talking fast now, a race against the clock on the wall. “ T he thirties were packed with court cases, failed voter initiatives, and new safety regulations that ultimately led to the mandates in 2043 forbidding seed ownership and home gardening. Private farmers had long since been squeezed out by the power and size of agribusiness. 2044 marked the end of all previous agencies, such as the FDA, and the emergence of GRIM—the Green Resource Investigation Machine . ” Stan rolled his eyes. “Don ’ t know who thought up that doozy of a name. The explanation by the U.S. Congress was that consolidati on of the various agencies saved money and was more efficient. In reality, the deep pockets of Nipungyo had encouraged Congress —even as taxpayers were stuck funding the dirty work formerly bankrolled by Nipungyo. ”

Stan turned toward the screen, clicking his controller, the slideshow of real food morphing into pictures of Vitees, Carbos, Proteins, Sweeties, and Snacks. “ So what about this, ” he cleared his throat, “ cr ud , you call food? During the thirties, while the food laws were falling neatly into place, Nipungyo was busy working with nonfood discount retailers—big stores such as Bingemart and Spendco. These stores had become major players in the food system. ”

He reminded the class , holding up a finger as he spoke: “ After the number one barrier, government, was snugly in its pocket, Nipungyo identified loss, or wasted food, as the second hindrance to maximum return. ” He raised his second finger. “ Their partnership with the retailers paved the way in removing this second impediment as they set about eliminating fresh food from the mainstream American diet—channeling it instead into America ’ s fascinating food groups of today. ”

The sarcasm dripping from Stan’s voice made Clare feel sick .

“ In this way, the previous loss and waste that formerly occurr ed at virtually every stage of production and distribution was eliminated . Goal met.” Stan glanced up at the clock. Five minutes over.

“ And that, my friends, is a quick overview of food politics and policies in the United States in the last one hundred years. ”