Historical Context for the Debate Over "Local" Food, Part 1 of 2

Yet another newspaper article today about the growing conflicts over "urban" animals -- in this case, in Salem, Oregon, where some residents want to keep hens, and other residents don’t want the animals around. We’re going to see more conflicts like theses as the "local food" activists gather steam, focus, and energy. (*1)

Many Americans are trying to "take back" their food and the nation’s food system. Some demand better state and federal food regulations. But others are engaged in grassroots efforts by supporting farmers’ markets and by producing their own food at home.

So what’s all this got to do with the price of eggs? History, that’s what.

As I’ve noted here before, I’m writing a history of meat in America (see more here). The first two chapters of that book look at the debate over "urban meat" in the late 19th century. That debate centered on Americans' unhappiness with their "local" food systems: they didn't like them, and wanted them gone.

The short version is this: Urban growth accelerated significantly in the mid-nineenth century. As cities grew, so Americans’ ideas about how to manage those cities changed, most especially ideas about how to manage urban sanitation.

No surprise, urbanites began building centralized sewer and water systems, to name one example. But they also began to question the value of "local" food production, especially meat processing. If we could go back to a typical American city in, say, 1870, we’d find dozens of slaughterhouses.

Dozens. And they weren’t on the outskirts: they sat next to houses, churches, stores, and schools.

And yes, with all the odor, waste, and, well, filth, you might imagine, as well as the constant parade of animals through city streets. (The livestock usually arrived by rail, and then handlers herded them through the streets to various slaughterhouses and butcher shops.)

Americans decided that this centuries-old system of meat production was outdated, unsafe, and unsuited the needs of a modern, progressive people.

Over the next fifteen years, they debated, considered, and experimented with alternatives (the first two chapters of my book will examine that process.)

By the late 1880s, most cities had banned those local slaughterhouses (as well as things like backyard hen houses), and a new meat processing system had emerged: A handful of operators slaughtered and processed livestock at giant "packing" houses located in just a few cities -- most notably Chicago, but also in St. Louis, Omaha, Kansas City, and Fort Worth.

Americans applauded this change: The new system was healthier and safer, and so were the nation’s cities. Next: The twentieth-century battle over meat processing.

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*1: Don't take my word for it. There are a zillion blogs out there. But also check out the intense food-related activity on Twitter.  (Indeed, anyone who still thinks Twitter is for narcissists and teen-agers only needs to spend a few minutes just reading the food posts on Twitter. There’s a movement out there!) Use the Twitter search box and  type in, for example, #profood.

Creating A "Green" Future: The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 6 of 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

Creating the kind of “radical transparency” necessary to change consumer behavior, which will, in turn, change manufacturer behavior, will require enormous amounts of data, and data compiled in an honest fashion, and, most important, date that can be made available to consumers.

Goleman notes that a company called GoodGuide, Inc. has made a good start. The people at GoodGuide have compiled the Life Cycle Assessment data for, for example, the ingredients for a host of products, especially things like soap, shampoo, etc., rating them based on their “green” qualities.

The bottom line is this: If consumers have access to honest data and, most important, at the moment of purchase, they will be more likely to make active decisions about how “green” they want their consumption to be. As they do, manufacturers (like Parliament in the 18th century) will be forced to make changes in their products.

More manufacturers will, we can all hope, consider using “cradle to cradle” manufacturing methods and materials, instead of relying, as they do now, on “cradle to grave” manufacturing methods and materials.

Goleman calls this a “virtuous cycle”: When information about a product changes consumers’ brand preferences, the resulting market shift in turn will lead companies to offer more of the [green] improvements shoppers want. Buyers with easy access to accurate ecological information will “chang[e] their behavior,” and that in turn will prompt “sellers to change their business practices.”

Again, I’m simplifying Goleman’s argument, which he backs up with plenty of data and information of his own.

But his basic argument is compelling: What matters is not just information itself, but on-the-spot access to that information. The more easily consumers get information, the more likely they will be to act on it in ecologically positive ways.

Put another way --- and now you see where I’m going with all of this --- contrary to that reviewer at Amazon, it’s possible for consumer behavior to launch and sustain revolution. And history has provided us with a powerful example, in fact the most important example in human history, of how that can be done.

See? I told you this would all hang together in the end!

Creating A "Green" Future: The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 5 of 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

They understood that the empire’s power rested on the production and exchange of goods and material. And they also understood that the most valuable and powerful tool they held to oppose Parliament’s action was . . . the production and exchange of goods.

If they stopped buying, powerful people in England would feel the pain. And feel it fast.

That’s what happened. First the colonists organized “non-importation” movements, and then, when that was not enough to make Parliament heed them, they organized “non-consumption” movements.

As Breen put it in the introduction to his book, North American colonists “made goods speak to power in ways” that their rulers and leaders back in England had not anticipated. British North American colonists used their material culture --- their "stuff" --- to foment revolution. They understood that non-consumption was more powerful than guns, or, for that matter, words.

So, back to Goleman’s book. (I know. You were wondering if I was ever going to get to the point.) I think you can see now why I was a bit, um, amused by the Amazon criticism of Goleman’s book. Clearly, consumption and consumerism and consumer values can be powerful tools in fomenting change.

First, Goleman examines the Life Cycle Assessment --- how engineers, scientists, and researchers figure out what the true ecological cost of a good is, from inception to creation to consumption: What’s the ecological cost of the materials to make it? What’s the ecological cost of the vehicles used to transport those materials? Etc.

Goleman points out that at present, many goods are marketed with “greenwashing”: the manufacturers either mask the true ecological cost of the good, or they exaggerate it in an effort to woo consumers who want to go green. He argues that what’s needed in the marketplace is “radical transparency.” By that he means some method of labeling or otherwise providing full information about the “life cycle” of goods.

Most important, however, he argues that the information needs to be provided at the point of purchase itself. You can determine the true ecological cost of that apple from New Zealand while you’re still standing in the grocery store.

Next: Using information and goods to create revolution.

Creating A "Green" Future: The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 4 of 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

North American colonists had access to a great deal of land and to an abundance of raw materials. As a result, they enjoyed an extraordinarily high standard of living (higher, in fact, than just about everyone else in the world except royalty).

Colonial exports, such as grain and timber, enabled them to buy and enjoy a huge array of consumer goods, nearly all of which were imported from England. (Even if the British didn’t actually manufacture the goods, Parliament made damn sure that the goods went through a British port before being shipped on to North America.)

Colonists wanted those goods. They enjoyed those goods. Having access to those goods made them feel like full citizens of a huge empire.

We think of our colonial ancestors as wanna-be Americans from the get-go. But almost until the last moment (ie, up until about 1760 or 1765), British colonists prided themselves on being British. On being part of the most powerful empire in the world. On being able to wear the same clothing and eat from the same kinds of plates as people back in England.

Moreover, they understood that the raw materials they exported to England helped make England great (again, basic but crucial materials like timber, ore, grain) The cycle of trade connected colonists to the mother country, and the colonists were, in turn, particularly aggressive in acquiring consumer goods.

Put another way, the colonists saw themselves as full partners in the imperial economy and the British nation. The operative word here is “partners.” Colonists assumed and expected to be treated as full citizens, with all the rights and responsibilities as any other citizen of the empire.

But starting in the 1760s, Parliament began imposing rules, regulations, and, yes, taxes on the colonists without their consent. Why Parliament did so isn’t important here.

What does matter is this: the colonists were angry (insulted, is more like it) and decided to resist. They could have used violence, but they opted to use something else: the marketplace itself.

Next time: Consumers, revolution, and going green

Creating A "Green Future": The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 3 of 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

The argument about consumer goods and the American revolution has been shaped and researched by many scholars over the past twenty or so years.

But the historian most responsible for it is T. H. Breen. He articulated his argument first in a series of scholarly articles and then in his brilliant book The Marketplace of Revolution. His book is long, exceptionally well researched, and complex, but here’s the short version: (I’m simplifying his complex argument not because I think you’re stupid, but because I’m trying to be brief.)

The period from about 1600 to the 1800s marked what historians call a “consumer revolution.” (For more on this “revolution,” see, for example, the wikipedia article and this essay by Cary Carson, one of the most important scholars in the field.)

For the first time in history, large masses of people were able to afford (and could legally acquire) what we now think of as the basics of life: Chairs, tables, perhaps glass for a few windows. Porcelain dishes. More than one change of clothes. Leather shoes with pewter buckles. Meat every day. Tea and coffee. Sugar. Refined flour.

People living in the British empire, including the North American colonists, were particularly active participants in this social and cultural change. Indeed, the creation of the British empire rested in large part on the exchange of goods and raw materials.

This exchange functioned as the basic mechanism of British imperial development: England acquired property --- colonies --- all over the world, seeking ones that would provide enormous quantities of raw materials.

India, for example, provided tea and cotton. Asian colonies provided spices and silk. The West Indies provided sugar (and then molasses from which North Americans made rum). Africa provided slaves (which the British mostly traded to other countries). The North American colonies provide grain, timber, ore, and fish. (Yes, fish. Fishing was always one of the largest industries in British North America. The fish were caught, dried, and shipped to England or other colonies.)

The colonies provided these raw materials for manufacturers back in England, and then those same colonists, especially the ones in North America, bought and used the goods the manufacturers produced.

Next time: How consumer goods led to revolution

Creating A "Green Future": The American Revolution, Consumer Action, and "Ecological Intelligence," Part 2 of 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three Part Four --- Part Five --- Part Six

People launch revolutions because they want something different (and, presumably, something better). But desire for something different/better coalesces into revolution only if large numbers of people share the same goal.

As important, they need to believe that they can trust one another even if they are separated by great distance and don’t know each other personally.

That’s because revolutions are group efforts: Resistance only pays off when large numbers of people are involved, but those individuals need to be able to work together, and they can only do that if they share some other commonality.

That was difficult in North America because for most of the colonial period, Virginians thoughts of themselves as Virginians, and people in Vermont thought of themselves as Vermonters.  They didn’t think of themselves as “Americans.”

Their other identity was as citizens of the British empire, but that meant that most people looked toward England for commonality, rather than in or toward North America.

Well, you say, they shared an aversion to taxes and oppression. Yes, they did  -- eventually. But only after they’d begun to contemplate revolution. At that point, they began to talk about taxes and oppression as a way to express what had already become a shared goal.

In other words, their political beliefs --- their ideology --- became a justification, not a cause. Moreover, theories about taxation and rhetoric about oppression were most useful to people like Thomas Jefferson. He was wealthy and exceptionally well-educated, and read political philosophy, and, as important, discussed it with people like John Adams, who was also wealthy and exceptionally well-educated.

But the vast majority of colonists were neither wealthy nor particularly well-educated. So political theory wasn’t going to get far with them.

Instead, that vast majority needed some other way to speak to the need for change at the outset. They needed to have some kind of shared language or shared material culture. And the way the colonial rebels “spoke” to one another was through consumer goods; or, more accurately, the decision to stop using consumer goods. (Today, we’d call that a boycott, but the term “boycott” only entered the English language more than a century later.)

Next time: Historians’ analysis of consumer action and the American revolution.