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I have been
asked periodically why we, the sixteen students and three program leaders
traveling around the world together as a gap year program, study what we do in
the specific countries we find ourselves.
In this blog, I attempt to make it clear why we are studying sustainable
agriculture in China, of all places, and give a bit of insight into some of the
discussions we are having.
The
Yellow River is the second longest river in Asia and the sixth longest in the
world. It is considered the
birthplace of Chinese civilization.
The fertile water’s periodic flooding of the river valleys created all
the right conditions for agriculture.
It is said that agriculture is what gave ancient peoples the leisure
time to focus on other aspects of life like developing creation stories, art,
dance, etc.; the stuff we might call culture. Like most ancient civilizations, the Chinese culture was
formed around agriculture, and thus food has played a central role in the lives
of these people since its inception, arguably more than younger
civilizations.
However the above point may be argued historically, one thing is for
certain: the proof is in the pudding.
The evidence of the role that food has on Chinese culture abounds in
many aspects of Chinese society. A
prime example of this is in greeting people. When walking down the street, the typical greeting is not “Hi,”
or “How are you,” but “Chī fàn?” (Have you eaten?). This is not an empty offer either: walk into any stranger’s
home and they immediately push food on you, whether it be some fruit or a bowl
of rice and veggies.
口
Another
example is found in the written Chinese language. The above Chinese character is pronounced: k
ǒu,
which means mouth, a classifier for things with mouths (people, domestic
animals, cannons, wells, etc), and a classifier for bites or mouthfuls.
This character is omnipresent in China.
You see it over entrances (
入口 ), and exits (出口 ), and in combination with
many other characters to form words that stand for incisions, openings,
windows, import, export, and the list goes on and on.
One theory about Chinese written language is
that many of the modern characters used today come from characters that were
originally pictographs: the shapes
of these characters resemble stylized drawings of the objects they
represent. So it’s easy to see how
the character for ‘kǒu,’ one of the more simple characters I’ve come
across, literally looks like an opening.
When placed in the context of Chinese culture, a food culture, one
begins to realize why so many words incorporate the character for mouth.
Recently,
the guiding question of one of the seminars that I was facilitating for the
students was: “Can sustainable agriculture feed the world?” In the framework of a dating game that
matched up eligible consumers with three prowling producers, we discussed
various methods of agriculture (industrial, small-holder, organic) and their
ability to feed a growing world population. Without getting into the nitty-gritty too much, the
discussion necessarily drifted towards trying to define sustainability, as
we’ve tried to do so many times before.
The inevitable question was eventually posed: Is any system of
agriculture really sustainable if it can’t feed the world’s population?
As
with most of our seminars, we left pondering new questions. As I continue to reflect on this
question of sustainability feeding an exponentially booming population, I can’t
help but think of the Chinese characters for population: 人口, rén kǒu, or literally: person mouth.
It makes sense that a civilization, whose very formation of the word
population ties people to their fundamental need to eat, and within whose
borders contains the world’s largest percentage of mouths to feed, would place
a great cultural emphasis on food, and thus agriculture.
And
yet in the past twenty years, the percentage of the population working in
agriculture has shrunk from 50% to less than 25%. The trend of urbanization and industrialization of agriculture
that continues will only serve to decrease this number drastically. Here in the small village of Xibian, you
can barely find anyone (no exaggeration) of average, strong working age
(15-40?), and this is the same for most rural farming villages: there is a
drain of young, able bodies. As
China pushes for continued industrialization and modernization to keep up its
rapid economic growth, most young are found in cities, in schools, learning how
to become anything other than farmers.
Fast food is becoming more popular. Obesity, in a largely very fit nation, is starting to become
an issue. Waterways are filled
with the run-off from industrial farms.
The air in most cities is so polluted, face and nose masks have not only
become a necessity, they have turned into a new fashion niche.
One
article we read about the technology of sustainable agriculture came from a
textbook on agroecology. It
mentioned that one way of measuring sustainability, which necessitates looking
at production over time, is to compare current systems to those systems that
have been in place for a long time, and continue to produce high rates of yield. By this definition, it should be obvious
to see that industrial agriculture, which pollutes the local and regional
environment, reduces the fertility of the soil, and thus relies on inputs
derived from fossil fuels, a non-renewable resource, is not sustainable.
So
where does that leave China, one of the first human ‘civilizations;’ a nation
of people with a 7000 year-old tradition of farming? What happens to a nation whose roots are so firmly planted
in the soil, whose culture so fully embraces food and the communal act of
eating, when there is no longer anyone to farm? And why would a country with such a rich and sustaining tradition
of agriculture, a tradition that has been shown to work, be compelled to change
its ways? The answer must be, in
part, that it is trying to adapt its agricultural system to a growing
population.
And
so I find myself in a never-ending cycle of questions, trying to balance the
demands of population, culture, and the limitations of our natural
environment. I am reminded of the
words of John E. Ikerd, a professor from the University of Missouri, who writes
on “Sustaining the Profitability of Agriculture”.
“Sustainable
systems must be ecologically sound, economically viable, and socially
responsible. All three are
necessary and no one or two of the three is sufficient. A system that lacks ecological
soundness cannot sustain its productivity over time, no matter how profitable
or socially supportive it may seem in the short run. A system that is not economically viable will not be
employed, no matter how ecologically sound or socially responsible it may
seem. And a system that is not
deemed to be socially responsible will be discarded or destroyed by the society
it must support, no matter how profitable or environmentally friendly it might
otherwise seem to be.
“These
are the standards of success. The
sustainability game is like old-fashioned pinball. The only thing we win is the privilege of playing another
round. We can judge how well we
are playing the game, but success is a process rather than an outcome – a direction
rather than a destination”.
And
so we walk into the future, bouncing between issues of population growth,
profit, and ecology. I am inspired
by the perseverance of my students, who look for answers but find only more
questions. One can only hope that
these questions bounce us continually further in the direction of success, and
lead us in some direction capable of handling the necessities of our human
civilization.
Well said, Chris ... and well written. You have a gift. There's much to comment on, but I will address only one or two points.
ReplyDeleteHistory is only as good as the records that contain it: not only written but also in the physical remnants that reach us through the ages (archeology?). The more we place our ideologies on the watery footings of history, the more academic our conclusions will be. Perhaps the 16 students that are asking so many questions would find more answers if their lives (survival) depended on a deep day-to-day relationship with the environment rather than as observers. I doubt if the little woman with the sun hat asks any questions at all. History fades in detail even with the passing of a single day. Today's sunrise is as clear as our eyes can detect it, with its passing rose colored clouds and winds. Yesterday's sunrise is but a fading memory. And certainly there is no memory of a sunrise over Xibian 7,000 years ago.
Take your 16 students, put them on a farm, let them marry and multiply for a generation or two and they will soon have answers for their questions. That is not to say that an intelligent, academic interest in history and world hunger issues is useless. On the contrary, today's solutions to world issues can only be reached through intelligent use of environment, resources and human action ... (Ikerd's ecology, economy and social acceptance); take one leg away and the tripod collapses.
Just some thoughts. Peace. Pop.
Thanks for your comments Pop. Sometimes its hard to figure out exactly what you're implying in your poetry, but I think I get the gist most of the time. I would say that drawing on history is definitely what I'm talking about when looking at something like sustainability. What other standard can we logically draw upon when looking for practices that have sustained, over time. Of course, new times bring new issues and demand new solutions, but I don't think humans should be so quick to forget the past.
ReplyDeleteAnd contrary to what you say, I believe the students' lives do depend on a deep, day-to-day, relationship with the environment, whether they know it or not. Whether it is on a farm, or living in D.C., everything we do is defined and limited by our environment. That dependence is something we've tried to escape from, or at least hide, but what this gap year is doing is helping the students realize that no matter whether they're farmers, doctors, accountants or professional ping pong players, they're lives are intimately entwined and limited by what our one earth, and sun, can provide.