Some time ago, a patron and friend recommended a book to me. As I’m wont to do when a book sounds interesting, I purchased it. And read it with much interest and pleasure. The title, the same as the title of this article—is interesting in itself—and the book even more so.
Written by Will Harris, A Bold Return to Giving a Damn
is the story of a piece of land being in the Harris family from 1866 to the present. The first two generations, of course, managed it successfully without chemicals or any of the agricultural tools of modern science, which means they produced food within the confines of nature, being forced to respect the natural cycles and yields nature offered. These two generations were livestock farmers that primarily marketed their product to local eaters—in a time when food was by necessity local.
Will Harris’ father, however, introduced to synthetic nitrogen as a fertilizer in the 1940’s, steered the ranch into modern American agriculture, which is to say pesticides, herbicides, and synthetic nitrogen for the land. Parasiticides, antibiotics, and steroids for the cattle. Taking cattle from pasture into an on-farm feedlot, and selling the remaining beef calves into commodity markets rather than marketing them to local eaters.
It’s the story of several generations of men who had work ethic, swagger, grit, savvy, and by the 4th generation, used “with impunity” (his words) the host of tools modern agribusiness offered, to the detriment of the natural resources in his care.
Will, fourth-generation Harris, tells his story in what is part memoir, part manifesto, in a very entertaining writing style—course enough to show his macho irreligious Harris character, but well-worded and on-point in a way that brings out his vision for a friendlier and more responsible food and farming model.
Here’s a brief glimpse; I was a very industrial cattleman. It was a system predisposed to excesses—and I loved that part of it. The alpha-male, testosterone-charged person that I was relished the chance to play hardball now that I had control of things on the farm, and the game came naturally to me… I had a foot on the pedal and a hand on the brake—high-carbohydrate, grain-based diets promoted super-fast growth, then pricey pharmaceutical drugs took down the painful bloat and liver infection that resulted. The results were hard to deny…I was a hard-pushing commodity cowboy and I’d mastered the skills better than just about anyone else around me. Until one day I looked around at what I was doing and said, This sucks. This sucks real bad.
Starting to care about the resources in his care (giving a damn), according to the book, came from a completely non-religious point of view, rather a repulsion to his own overly aggressive use (abuse) of agri-chemicals, antibiotics, parasiticides, etc. He was not hurting financially, was debt-free, and paid plenty of taxes every year. In his words; I was sitting pretty, from anyone else’s perspective. But my perspective had changed—kind of like when a small corner of your house becomes the junk zone…and you realize it won’t ever go away unless you make a very conscious decision that This sucks. I am cleaning this s**t up! That’s how it was for me, nothing lofty or philosophical or grand. Just a C-student’s aha that he didn’t like what he was doing, and now he wasn’t going to do it anymore.
The conclusion of "farming-this-way-is-wrong" when it doesn't stem from a moral or religious conviction, or from financial hardship is rare. Most people, I would say, come to regenerative farming and food production from either financial pressure or from something of a moral conviction.
And yes, in a sense Will Harris had something of a moral dig when, as he writes; "One day in the fall of 1995, I stood at our corrals and watched a hundred head of five-hundred-pound calves get loaded on a double-deck eighteen-wheeler that would wrench them out of their coastal savannah eco-system and transport them to a massive feedlot thirteen hundred miles away in a very different eco-system, the high plains of Nebraska...I knew from two decade of experience what would happen when they left my farm: a thirty-hour ride with each steer jammed up against the next, deprived of food, water, or rest; the steers on the top deck peeing and shitting on the ones on the bottom. Transporting calves this way off the farm to big feedlots in Iowa or Nebraska was absolutely standard in our industry...But standing there looking at it on this particular day, something changed in me. I wish I could say that God spoke to me or that I saw a burning bush; but it wasn't that dramatic. It was just that something that had always felt reasonable and rational to me suddenly felt very wrong...It suddenly felt like raising your daughter to be a princess and then sending her to the whorehouse"
The book, to me, is a very enjoyable read, weaving in and out of where contemporary agriculture went wrong, the hard realities of reversing course, and the satisfaction of seeing—after a few decades, the results—on the farm, in the livestock, and in the community, of actually giving a damn about the outcome.
Will Harris paints the story—in a personal way—of how reckless food and farming policies have vastly diminished America’s natural resources, how in the big scheme of things government, agribusiness, agricultural academia, and even the farming community have been so drunk on “progress”, on technology, on agricultural exports, and on “feeding the world” that essentially the entirety of the agricultural and grocery sectors have stopped giving a damn about any sort of long-term vision for the future of food and farming in America, not to mention the health of Americans.
His is the story of exactly what the book title implies—returning to a place where one begins to care again. To me, that’s profound.
It’s profound because I see the same phenomenon around me—farmers stuck in the conventional mentality, not looking further than the current generation, if even that. Agribusiness continually coming up with new ever-more-egregious ways to subvert nature, with no thought of how their innovation helps or hurts our finite natural resources, not to mention the food animals it’s intended for. Even eaters, stuck in a consumeristic mindset that food needs to be pre-prepared and “affordable”, with little thought of how it’s produced or what producing it does to our children’s survivability. Yes, it may be a cultural phenomenon—especially for farmers and eaters, but it’s also the essence of ill-informed and thoughtless decision making.
Not giving a damn about things as essential as food and farming, regrettably, is commonplace in America. But let all excuses be gone—if someone as deeply entrenched in chemical conventional farming, as tuned out to what is natural and sustainable, as rough and reckless and irreligious as Will Harris (I mean no disrespect, rather a deep respect for the 180 degree about-face he did) can make a bold return to giving a damn, then any one of us—whether we’re farmers or eaters—can do the same. Never has it been more necessary. And that’s the View from the Country.
Quotes Worth Re-Quoting -“The food that came out of the [industrialized] system was artificially cheap - the price was subsidized by the environment, our wildlife and aquatic life, and our bad health. We just couldn’t see those hidden costs - nor could we grasp how future generations would inherit the effects of our extractive, intensive farming methods. When you add up all the ways the bill is coming due, it takes the shine off the glittering promises of postwar industrialized food. The deal we made with our planet, its creatures, and our rural workforces, all so we could enjoy a slightly cheaper hamburger, might just be the worst deal that was ever made.”~ Will Harris
Our family and our farm participated in creating the bedrock of rural America, then inadvertently helped to crack that foundation by participating in the industrialized, centralized, commoditized system that rendered rural America close to obsolete. We traded the autonomy of the small farmer for the security that came by scaling up; then we began to risk degradation and disrepair to our land, animals, and community as a result. And we participated in a system that sold consumers a bucolic image of farming that wasn't actually true. ~ Will Harris
