Tariffs & Subsidies

“Do you think you’ll be lucky enough to get your subsides by Christmas? That sure would be nice for the holidays.”

Yes, someone was actually dumb enough to ask that. They knew I was a farmer and they, in all their Fox News watching wisdom believe that every single farmer in America will get a cut of the $12 billion bailout. I was shopping for a pair of pantyhose and was decidedly in a non-farming frame of mind, let alone one to deal with the intricacies of federal trade policies and their impact they are having on everything from fertilizer to silky sheers that were not going to ship in time, thus forcing me to shop in public, among people like the one asking me a question that challenged my sanity. Forcing a smile, I wished them happy holidays and in return they reminded me it’s Christmas

Deep breaths. Better yet, sit down and write it out because few people understand the reality of what’s happening when it comes to tariffs, subsidies, and the food on your tables. Even Ronny Chieng got it wrong on his reporting of the news which is often more accurate that mainstream media outlets. He began, “Let's talk about farmers, the ones who grow the fruits and vegetables that rot in the back of our fridges. They've had a tough time lately thanks to the tariffs which have which have contributed to a 50% increase in farmers going bankrupt this year but don't worry farmers someone is coming to save you…

Experience has taught me than no one is coming to save me, so I need to do it myself. You’ll find that mentality pervasive among the vendors at farmers markets. You think Buy Local is only a catchy marketing phrase that looks good on a bumper sticker or ball cap? You know who is getting bailed out? Major row crop farmers who grow massive monocrops of soybeans, corn, wheat, rice, and cotton (according to Reuters, NPR, BBC, Politico, Civil Eats, Forbes) and who export their crops outside of the U.S. None of those news outlets mentioned farmers who grow food, so I’ll have to go back to the Daily Show purely for entertainment.

But wait, aren’t those things food? Afterall, cottonseed oil is edible.

Large scale commodity crops aren’t sold as food—they’re ingredients, livestock feeds, never sold to the end-user, but amassed in enormous quantities by market traders who export using  trucks, barges, rail, and ocean vessels which can hold up to 15 million bushels weighing as much as 400,000 tons. They are grown by farmers who measure their acreage in the thousands and depend on specialized massive (read: expensive) equipment to plant, cultivate, harvest, and sell their crops. No box trucks, sprinters, minivans, and SUVs for them.  Even worse, they don’t get to set the prices or the rules under which they sell their products.  These are also the same farms that depend on millions of tons of imported fertilizers and chemicals that ultimately end up in the environment damaging important things like the Gulf of Mexico and the Chesapeake Bay.

Did you see how fast those politicians passed that bailout, yet the Farm Bill is three years overdue. I don’t have time to sit around waiting on a bunch of old white men to duke it out over the Supplemental Assistance Program (SNAP). There’s people to feed right now, here in my foodshed.  While your farmers are keeping you fed, our government drags their feet on the actual aspect of agriculture that are critical for healthy ecosystems and growing local economies. Market patrons aren’t mega factories in Asia; they’re individuals and families who cook food in their kitchens at home or neighborhood restaurants.  

Didn’t we get in a trade-war with China back in 2018 that used $28 billion dollars to bail out row-crop farmers? Here’s the really crazy part. That $12 billion we’re going to give those farmers who are left with unsold crops because the government offended their largest customer is less than half of what they spent to produce the crop in the first place. If I were a row-crop farmer, I’d find a domestic market for my crops or {gasp} grow something else, diversify, maybe not put all my eggs in one basket.

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Shifting Seasons