The myth of 'organic' food
In Berkeley, everything is "organic." The hippies who live here would have nothing less. Even the University of California at Berkeley is ramping up its food purchases to include more organic items.
What the hell does "organic" mean, anyway? It sounds like it means "good" or "healthful." But it depends on who you are; "organic" sort of means whatever you want it to mean. Like Orwell's example of "fascism" in his essay "Politics and the English Language," the word "organic" has been taken to mean something different from what it originally meant.
Let's start with the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which is responsible for food labeling. There are rules in place for what you can call food -- "organic," "fat-free," "low-fat," etc. These rules are written by either the USDA or the Food and Drug Administration (FDA). In this case of "organic," it is the USDA that controls what can and cannot be labeled that way.
According to the USDA's National Organic Program Labeling and Marketing Information, "organic" foods "must consist of at least 95 percent organically produced ingredients (excluding water and salt). Any remaining product ingredients must consist of nonagricultural substances approved on the National List or non-organically produced agricultural products that are not commercially available in organic form." There are other regulations and requirements for foods that are not themselves totally organic, but may be labeled as "made with organic ingredients." The USDA levies a $10,000 fine upon any person who knowingly mislabels a product as "organic" when it doesn't meet the above standards.
But the organic foods movement isn't just about food, as Stephen Shapin explains in a New Yorker article entitled "What Are You Buying When You Buy Organic?" The modern organic movement was as much about liberal politics and anti-capitalism as it was about food:
The organic movement that sprang up in America during the postwar years, manured by the enthusiasm of both the hippies and their New Age successors, supplemented [English agronomist Sir Albert] Howard’s ideas of soil health with the imperative that the scale should be small and the length of the food chain from farm to consumer short. You were supposed to know who it was that produced your food, and to participate in a network of trust in familiar people and transparent agricultural practices. A former nutritionist at Columbia, who went on to grow produce upstate, recalls, “When we said organic, we meant local. We meant healthful. We meant being true to the ecologies of regions. We meant mutually respectful growers and eaters. We meant social justice and equality.”
Buying organic is supposed to be about buying from a place that is local, where the profits go directly to the people growing the food, not to a nameless, faceless corporation like ArcherDanielsMidland. Buying organic is also supposed to be about food grown "naturally"; that is, without pesticides and without genetic modification. The organic movement operates using the same paradigm as the Romantic idealization of nature: nature is, in itself, virtuous, and humans -- or anything artificial -- is necessarily evil. The closer you are to nature, and the further you are from humanity, the more virtuous you become. The corollary for this axiom is that people who are further from man-made structures (i.e., without material wealth or societal power, which translates into "marginalized peoples") are necessarily more virtuous. People on the fringes of society -- farmers, children, the poor, and the insane -- are all virtuous because of their distance from human institutions. In the polar world of Romantic idealism, there are only two possibilities: being close to humanity or being close to nature. Being close to nature means, necessarily, being further from humanity, and vice versa.
The organic movement feels the same way. Food grown far from the impact of humanity is more virtuous than food grown by a large agribusiness using pesticides and genetic modification (did you ever think your food could be virtuous?) But the modern organic movement has abandoned this and, as usually happens, large corporations have seen money in a new trend and have capitalized (no pun intended) on it. Whole Foods -- the nation's number-one organic food chain -- would certainly not be endorsed by Berkeley's organic hippies if they knew some interesting facts. "[T]he company is as ferociously anti-union as Wal-Mart -- John Mackey, the volubly libertarian founder and CEO, has called unions 'parasites,'" writes Shapin. The nation's largest organic retailer fails the organic movement immediately by not staying true to liberal political principles, which would hold that the store should be unionized. Whole Foods is also definitely not your local, home-town grocery: says Shapin, "Last year, its total revenue was more than $5 billion and its gross profit was more than $1.6 billion. In 2004, according to the Financial Times, Whole Foods was 'the fastest-growing mass retailer in the US, with same-store sales rising 17.1 per cent quarter-on-quarter.'" Thus, the organic movement is no longer a "counterculture" movement; rather, it has become decidedly mainstream. Organic food is also no longer grown by moms and pops in the backyard and sold at the farmer's market: Earthbound Farm, one of Whole Foods' suppliers and the nation's largest producer of organic produce, grows its "organic" food "on giant farms in six different counties in California, two in Arizona, one in Colorado, and in three Mexican states. [...] By 2004, Earthbound was farming twenty-six thousand acres; its production plants in California and Arizona total four hundred thousand square feet, and its products are available in supermarkets in every state of the Union."
So, what's the problem with this? First of all, "organic" food was never designed to be mass-produced. It takes, on average, four times as many resources to grow organic food as it does "regular" food, since much of the crop is lost to pesticides and disease. Remember: organic growers cannot use pesticides and they cannot use genetic modification that might make a crop resistant to disease. This is why Earthbound needs so much space: to produce the same amount of food as conventional farming, they need to grow more food, with the understanding that much of it will be lost.
Corporations, though, don't like to do things -- and, indeed, can't -- do things on small scales. Organic is fine for individuals, but it stinks as a growth method for a nation or the world. There's as much an ethical dilemma in producing all the world's food organically as there is in nameless, faceless corporations producing all the world's food. Organic food is more expensive than regular food; what about the poor? The very people who are idealized and romanticized by the organic movement (at least, according to me, based on my reading of the organic movement and its relationship to the Romantic movement) can't afford organic food! Shapin hits on something about organic food that I've been saying for a long time:
Genetically modified, industrially produced monocultural corn is what feeds victims of the African famine, not the gorgeous organic technicolor Swiss chard from your local farmers' market. Food for a "small planet" will, for the forseeable future, require a much smaller human population on the planet.
I'll refrain from re-stating my opinion that the sinister implication -- whether conscious or not -- of the "sustainability" movement is the requirement that most of the world's population die of starvation. But the point remains: the world's famine problems will be solved by pesticides and genetic engineering, not organic food. Thomas Malthus famously predicted that we would all starve in the twentieth century, since humans grow geometrically while plants can only grow arithmetically. He famously forgot the influence of technology that coudl allow plant growth to keep up with human growth. The organic movement negates that technology.
And, thirdly, modern pesticides and -- especially -- genetic engineering are harmless. Says Shapin:
According to Samuel Fromartz, ninety per cent of “frequent” organic buyers think they’re buying better “health and nutrition.” They may be right. If, for any reason, you don’t want the slightest pesticide residue in your salad, or you want to insure that there are no traces of recombinant bovine somatotropin hormone (rbST) in your children’s milk, you’re better off spending the extra money for organically produced food. But scientific evidence for the risks of such residues is iffy, as it is, too, for the benefits of the micro-nutrients that are said to be more plentiful in an organic carrot than in its conventional equivalent.
The organic food movement isn't "bad." For a person to eat organically is acceptable. For a whole group of people to try and foist organic lifestyles on the world is not. Behind the organic movement is a political movement. If you're going to have a political movement, then present it as a political movement, not something else designed to draw in supporters who would otherwise not support you if they knew what you were really up to. Second, I don't know how many "organic" supporters know what organic means these days. It means big companies like Whole Foods overcharging you for food that comes from a place you're just as unfamiliar with as the food that comes from Safeway or Kroger. I fail to see how organic food is necessarily better simply because it's "organic." And I hope that I can educate some organic-types who didn't know that their organic movement wasn't as close to nature as they thought it was.
