I am a fourth generation turkey farmer, and organic standards are not enough
As third-generation farmers, my parents were among the first chicken farmers to fight for organic certification standards, and I’ve been a big supporter of the movement ever since. While I appreciate that organic was—and is—a rapid improvement over conventional agriculture, it misses an important part of the puzzle for our planet’s best: long-term, data-driven results. Simply put, organic certification was not designed to measure soil health and therefore does not fully encompass the farming ecosystem or its impact on our planet.
A quick drive through California’s Central Valley reveals field after field of dusty soil that can’t stick to the ground because it’s been stripped of its structure and life. You wouldn’t know from the road which farms are which common and organic; they all look haggard, lying under the same rust-colored cloud.
The heart of the challenge with organic farming is that it is so focused on all things us don’t do it. It is becoming increasingly clear that simply removing the negative from the equation will not make it positive. After all, the hole won’t magically fill itself once you stop digging.
Take, for example, the organic standards of poultry farmers. These standards require that animal feed ingredients be grown without genetically modified organisms (GMOs), synthetic herbicides, pesticides, or fertilizers; that chemicals were not used on the farm; that birds can enter the outside; and that they have a place to act like birds. It’s a step in the right direction, but clearly not enough to change the state of our farms.
As the years kept piling up, my brother, my husband and I—who run our family’s farms—knew that we were missing the connection between our farms, the land, and the produce. This was actively discussed at family dinners as we remember that our grandfather could predict spring by the abundance of almond blossoms. He would pick tomatoes from his garden and show the quality of the soil during the growing season. In short, he was connected in a way that our generation was not. When we took over the family business a few years ago, this was our “aha” moment—our North Star.
Without emphasizing soil health, our society will continue to face economic challenges related to food production—whether natural or conventional—and we will continue to face the consequences of a diet that is often characterized by artificial, nutrient-dense ingredients. overcrowding, and the negative impact on the world.
But that is not a road we should all look down.
Better soil can create better results
That dust cloud, and the notable absence of requirements designed to improve environmental outcomes, are among the many reasons for the emergence of the regenerative farming movement. In a renewable system, we do not deplete nutrients from the earth as we farm. Instead, we focus on giving back to the positive.
We know that recycling processes directly affect soil health and soil matter. A recent comparison of soil health and nutrient density found that regenerative agriculture has five times more organic matter and seven times higher value. Additionally, dozens of studies and peer-reviewed publications have demonstrated the benefits of well-managed design practices as a means of improving soil moisture, biodiversity, and carbon sequestration, and reducing erosion, among other things. We have already seen the diversity of grass grown on our farms from year to year. We went from two varieties (rye and foxtail) to over six varieties of grass this past spring (not to mention wildflowers).
Regenerative farming methods are a fundamental change in farming philosophy. They are fine-tuned for location, location, season, crop or livestock, and other farm-specific variables, helping to restore soil structure and healthy soil over time. How? Things like rotational grazing, resting pastures, crop rotation, cover crops, reduced tillage (or no tillage), plant and animal diversity, and much more.
Not surprisingly, much research has focused on organic matter, which is at the heart of this movement and one of the most overlooked (read: most important) aspects of productive farming. Soil is a dynamic, highly complex ecosystem, but it is the foundation of our future.
Measuring impact beyond organic
Today, about 75% of all meat sold in the US is controlled by just five companies. These mega conglomerates have promoted their farming methods on the grounds of “food security,” yet worldwide 1 billion people are structurally hungry, and our environment is in dire straits.
At Diestel Family Ranch, our family dinner discussions now focus on how we can challenge ourselves and the industry to think more about our impact as Turkish farmers. We continue to incorporate regenerative practices, such as planting nearly 2 miles of trees, grasses, and flowering shrubs on our farms, which has been a great addition. However, we know our recycling footprint can be large, so we partner with a third-party recycling company for corn and soybean farms to source our bird food grown with measurable environmental results. But this organization will need a lot of support from those very big companies to make big changes in our situation and heal our environment.
Don’t get me wrong: I wholeheartedly believe in the promise of organics, and we will continue to raise our birds using organic standards. Organic has encouraged consumers and producers to think critically about the impact of food production on human health and animal welfare, and recycling is already doing the same for environmental health.
I buy organic. I will continue to buy organic. I hope you will too. But I will also continue to fight for a new standard—one that puts responsible, innovative land management practices, not just organics, at the heart of our food system. One that is measured and monitored by a qualified, independent third party. One that is economically efficient to scale and has a large adoption rate for all producers, farmers, and consumers alike.
Source link