Unexpected Consequences
encircled by green crops uniform in height, glistening in the sunshine.
It was easy to imagine the family who lived inside, sitting on the porch
swing at night after finishing the chores and listening to the crickets
chirp, watching the moon gliding through the clouds as the wind gently
stroked the leaves on the trees.
For those who love the countryside, these scenes inspire dreams of a
utopian existence: the ultimate harmony between civilization and Earth.
In this world, roofs of barns are not collapsing inward, broken farm
equipment is not rusting away on cement blocks, and weeds are not
cluttering ditch banks or crowding out crops.
“How do they do it?” Roy asked. For decades he had routinely planted
the same half-dozen vegetables in his backyard garden plot, only to see
weeds and ravenous insects overrun it if he happened to be away for
a few days. “How do farmers grow hundreds of acres of crops free of
weeds?”
The answer was many farmers are planting seeds engineered to re-
sist pesticides. By genetically altering the seeds’ DNA to withstand
compounds and chemicals like glyphosate, dicamba, or 2 , 4 -D, farmers
can blanket spray their fields, killing everything but the crops. Following
a long line of precedents, GMO crops are one of our latest—and most
controversial—attempts to control nature.
Some of my earliest memories are of people’s attempts to take on
the environment. On cool fall days while walking home from school, I
still remember dark streaks of black smoke wafting skyward against a
backdrop of blue sky. Discarded tires had been lit on fire, then dragged
by chains across canals and ditch banks. The sound of dried brush crack-
ling into flames and the hiss of burning tires filled the air. Yet once the
fire died out, the smoke soon dissipated and the blue skies returned.
Charred, blackened banks were the only lingering evidence. By spring,
order had been restored as plants reclaimed the land. The environment
had reaffirmed its resilience, and new life had once again regained its
impunity against those who confronted it.
Signs of the environment’s robustness were everywhere. On nights
before I went fishing, I could walk into a field and sink a shovel head
into the soft soil, parting the earth to reveal night crawlers under the
glow of my flashlight. No less amazing was how wheat planted in the