I can appreciate Joel Noble’s frustration about the Greg Niewendorp situation (in a comment following my previous post). He wants to know the same thing I, and many others, want to know. What the heck does this mean?
Actually, I was reading through the comments, hoping to glean answers…with the clock tick, ticking, as Don Neeper gently reminded me (and my wife calling me to dinner, wondering aloud why I spend so much time on this blog, to which I didn’t have a ready answer).
Yet there is more implied in Joel’s question than he may realize. It’s something I’ve been ever more conscious of struggling with, in trying to explain not only the Niewendorp situation, but those of Mark Nolt and Lori McGrath.
It may sound trite, but I’ve come to realize that the reason none of us have simple answers is that this stuff is complicated as hell.
I was reminded of just how complicated when I received an email from a reader who posed a question about my Niewendorp post yesterday: “ I don’t understand this. I do not want any meat or milk products that might contain any disease. What’s the big deal about making sure the herd is disease free?”
This email makes perfect sense in the context of how we’ve been taught to think about food and health. I found myself re-hashing in my mind the entire Niewendorp situation and re-reading my original post last March.
Bascially, the problem started because Greg asked some simple questions, and wasn’t satisfied with the answers he was receiving. Why was he forced to have his animals tested for a disease that wasn’t a problem in his area? Why should he risk having his animals exposed via the test to possible harm? Why should he be required to tag his animals, and enable the government to keep tabs on their movement, when they have no contact with other animals?
Then there were some more fundamental questions. What authority did the Michigan Department of Agriculture have to force such tests, since the Michigan legislature didn’t authorize them? What authority did the U.S. Department of Agriculture have to force animal tagging in Michigan, since the U.S. Congress didn’t authorize it? Are such regulatory actions legitimate under the U.S. Constitution?
The comments that precede Joel Noble’s begin to provide some insights. Part of the problem is that there is a huge divide between factory (or commodity) agriculture, and sustainable (artisan) agriculture. This is really a business/economic divide, which prevails in most industries. The problem with agriculture is that it is highly regulated (and subsidized) by the government, and the regulations are intended to force everyone to abide by the factory system. Most sustainable/artisan farmers make accommodations—they do their thing under the radar and comply with the system where they absolutely have to.
But increasingly, sustainable/artisan farmers like Greg Niewendorp (and Mark Nolt and Lori McGrath) are deciding they are personally uncomfortable with the inconsistencies. They get into trouble, as it were, when they realize they can’t morally and/or politically make the accommodations, and still live with themselves. So they decide to resist.
Once they make that decision, though, they move from the economic/financial realm into the political realm. Now, they’re in dangerous territory, insofar as the power structure is concerned.
The risk for the power structure is that the resistance of a few could spread to the many. That potentially threatens the entire edifice. So the power structure responds by seeking to crush the rebels sooner rather than later, usually by setting them up as isolated examples to deter any sympathizers. Usually that works. But every once in a while, the government misjudges the rage of its citizens, as in 1700s America, 1800s France, 1900s Russia (twice), and other places, and a tiny problem like a Greg Niewendorp mushrooms into something much bigger.
So once such a situation moves into the political realm, you have to begin examining the actions in a different light. One useful way is in war terms. In warfare, each side tests the other’s defenses and resolve via minor skirmishes, as prelude to some major battle. In this light, the visit Greg Niewendorp received Tuesday was one of those minor skirmishes, a test of his defenses. The government hoped he would be intimidated by its far superior forces, would decide that to resist was futile, and would meekly surrender.
He refused to be intimidated, though, and instead stood his ground, forcing the government to withdraw and re-examine its strategy.
I’m not an expert on warfare, so I can’t predict exactly when or where the next attack might come. They have lots of options. They can attach his bank accounts. They can probably get a judge somewhere to sign a search warrant and maybe even an injunction to force the testing of his herd.
The risk from their viewpoint is that their actions are publicized, and turn Greg into a martyr, emboldening sympathizers.
If they can stamp him out without others emulating his approach, the situation will be quickly forgotten. But if, as Greg has told me, “a revolt is brewing,” then the situation could become unpredictable.
So this is a long answer to Joel’s question. And still very much incomplete.
On the subject of warfare, I’d like to share one more thought I had last night on the results of our recent press release – and then I promise to shut up about it. 🙂
I hit a home run with the first press release that I wrote and distributed in February 2006 on behalf of Arlie Stutzman and the Akron WAPF chapter. Arlie isn’t my farmer but I’d met him and had visited his farm, and I was fairly outraged when his dairy license was revoked after an undercover entrapment and sting operation by the Ohio Department of Agriculture. He was also managing a herdshare, and we felt that he was being unfairly targeted as a direct result of providing raw milk to his shareholders.
I felt that the facts of his case would make for a good story, and that if we could publicize what the state agency had done to him that we could neutralize their advantage and fight back in an asymmetrical, guerrilla fashion. I therefore wrote the press release copy reporting first and foremost the bad news that he was losing his license over a two-dollar gallon of milk "sale." I emphasized the entrapment angle and portrayed Arlie as a hapless victim who was simply being generous and sharing his milk with a stranger.
That press release was wildly successful and the Ohio Department of Agriculture ran into such a buzz saw of public criticism in the form of phone calls, email and editorials over their treatment of "that Amish guy" that their agents later drove out to his farm and helped him fill out the paperwork for a higher grade license than the one they originally revoked! Later that summer they did win a permanent injunction against him ever again selling raw milk, but the judge specifically ruled that the injunction didn’t apply to his herdshare and the department has left him alone since then.
I’ve never been able to duplicate that level of success with any of the subsequent press releases I’ve done under the Raw Milk Organization of Ohio or Autumn Valley Farm banners. Those stories have tended to be picked up by the local town paper and trade journals such as the weekly Farm and Dairy, but have not spilled over into the larger press. I think I know why, and it’s that I forgot the lesson that good news is boring and bad news sells – if it bleeds, it leads.
This fact is something that farmers like Greg Niewendorp and Lori McGrath should remember and use to their advantage. In Lori’s case and in retrospect, a better strategy might have been to put out a press release before the state’s to get out in front of the story and frame the report in a more favorable light. The copy’s headline could have remained the same to grab attention, but the first paragraph could then have hammered on the independent lab finding no contamination. The report could also have been slanted to imply unwarranted government interference and heavy-handedness. And it also never hurts to imply that the government’s action could put the farm out of business. Note that in Lori’s case the timing might not have worked out as their independent lab test only occurred four days before the state’s press release went out. However, the state’s press release barely made a blip in the local media and a more targeted and better-written private release might have had a greater impact. (I take the blame for this mis-step – Lori came to me for advice and I counseled waiting until they were able to resume their sales before trying to tell their side of the story.)
In Greg Niewendorp’s case, why not announce the fact that Michigan state officials trespassed on his farm and are apparently unlawfully attempting to force him to comply with their demands? Frame the story in a light favorable to him – people sympathize with small farmers trying to eke out a living selling traditionally-raised food. Play up the fact that his farm has been quarantined and he’s living on borrowed time, just sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop. State and Federal officials don’t want people to know about resistance and opposition, so don’t stay silent! With the right timing and know-how the press and media can be harnessed to your defense, as long as you remember that they thrive on bad news because that sells newspapers. And it’s a lesson that I need to remember the next time I’m asked for help or advice.
Concerning Davids post-my husband being the humble, modest man he is said " there need not be complicated questions and answers concerning family farms-when farmed correctly there is a beautiful, simple harmony with nature-let the higher powers (and I’m sure he didn’t mean government) figure out the rest."
Lori McGrath