Expecting More, Committing Less 99On a recent trip out West, I detoured to spend time with my college
advisor and his wife in Ames, Iowa. Some of the deepest topsoil in
America is in Iowa. As I traveled secondary roads meandering up and
down rolling hills, I observed the grip that subsidies and debt have on
modern farms. Most of the land was planted in corn. To squeeze out as
many bushels as possible, crops were planted right up to the drainage
ditches bordering each field.
Yet every so often, I came across a field where the farmer maintained
a buffer zone between the ditch and the corn. It’s a pretty good guess
that these are the farmers most likely to plant cover crops like clover
over the winter. Buffer zones and cover crops help protect the soil from
erosion and reduce chemicals and fertilizer from running off fields
and into ditches, eventually ending up in rivers that supply drinking
water downstream to communities. Planting cover crops is not rational
behavior, at least as represented by the Farm Bill and public policy.
Yet here were select Iowa farmers still guided by a norm saying that
individuals have a responsibility for the shared interests of the larger
community.
Growing up, I sometimes asked a few local farmers whether farming
was still worth it. They would smile then repeat the well-worn line that
the secret to making one million dollars from farming was to start out
with two. These were also the farmers who would drop what they were
doing to help out one another—even when it set them back financially.
I can still remember when a farmer was crushed to death after his
tractor rolled on top of him while he was turning hay on a steep hillside.
Because the accident happened on the hill’s backside, not visible from
the road, his body was not discovered until hours later. He was survived
by a wife and young children. Late that night, news of the accident
reached other farmers, including my father.
Because we were behind schedule putting up our own hay, cut
alfalfa waiting to be baled was drying quickly. If the leaves became too
dry, many would fall to the ground when baling, lowering the hay’s
protein content. Unaware of the accident, I was awakened early the next
morning and told to get ready. I assumed I would be baling our hay while
the morning dew lingered on the field. Instead, I was dispatched to the
farm where the accident had happened with instructions to not make
the same mistake. My job was to get the hay baled so other farmers could