The Need for Resilience

In 2006 we became aware of The Omnivore’s Dilemma. Even if we did not read the book, author Michael Pollan effectively raised all of our awareness of the implications of our food choices: the distance some of the food on our dinner plate has travelled, the inputs used in growing our food, the labour conditions present in the production of other food, and the sustainability of our whole food system. Pollan’s other concern is agricultural policy, and how subsidies, some overt, but many covert, affect our food choices.

On the heels of that book came The 100-Mile Diet: A Year of Local Eating. This is one couple’s account of life when they had set themselves the challenge of eating only food grown within 100 miles for a year. Inspired by that account, others have set themselves identical or similar challenges. All the people I have heard talking about this experience say the same thing: the discipline was a good experience, one they encourage others to try, but it is not a discipline they intend to follow for the rest of their life. They do not advocate it as a lifestyle.

Now there is The Localivore’s Dilemma. The book seems to make some good points primarily in drawing attention to the fact that long distance transportation may not be as large an energy input in the production of our food as say, the heating of a greenhouse. Had they stopped there, the book would be a good contribution to the whole food discussion. Unfortunately, the authors seem exceptionally intent on debunking The Omnivore’s Dilemma and The 100-Mile Diet. Without that emphasis, the book would be much more helpful to us as we make food choices.

Perhaps more helpful is The Resilience Imperative, a book I have been reading lately. This book suggests that with regard to our entire way of life, things have been going well. Nevertheless, shocks will come, whether they be the result of financial breakdown, resource depletion, or political breakdown. How well are we prepared for such a shock?

Our food system is predicated on a number of largely unexamined assumptions. The first assumption is that cheap fertilizer made from distant fossil and rock deposits will always be available. Conventionally, large quantities of energy are needed in both the production and delivery of food. The second assumption is that this energy will always be available.

A few dedicated researchers at the University of Manitoba are devoted to developing a food production system independent of imported fertilizers, and less dependent on fossil energy inputs. If these questions concern you, consider attending the Natural Systems Agriculture field day in Carman July 23.

At the South Eastman Transition Initiative we discuss and delve into these important questions. Join us Thursday, July 26 as we spend the evening with Kim Shukla and Richard Whitehead of Stonelane Orchard discussing the challenges and rewards of growing food without chemical inputs.

Eric Rempel

When the Power Goes Off

Events of the past few weeks have again reinforced the awareness that as a society we are extremely vulnerable to extended electrical power outages.

In my world, three recent events have helped to focus my attention and concern. At the Annual General Meeting of Steinbach Housing, Inc. on June 27^th, it was reported that a faulty stand-by generator had recently been replaced with a new one. Shortly after the announcement, the power went out, leaving the gathering in semi-darkness. “Will the new, standby generator work?” could be heard here and there. Fortunately the power came back on in about a minute so the standby system did not get a workout.

Then about a week ago a severe storm passed through Prince Albert, Saskatchewan where my son is working at Camp Kadesh. In that case power was restored a day and a half later, just in time to begin their annual staff training sessions.

Last week Friday, my sister flew home to Virginia after spending a week with family here in Manitoba. She made it as far as Richmond and then was advised to seek shelter from the “derecho” storm instead of attempting the one-hour drive to her home. She barely made it into a motel before the deluge hit. As we all heard in the news, electrical power went down for three million people. Four days later, 1.2 million people still were without power, and that amid sweltering heat.

All this makes me wonder what impact an extended power outage would have on us in Southeastern Manitoba. Of course the winter season is of greatest concern, but our normal lives would come to a virtual standstill during any season of the year should our electrical power system fail for more than a few hours.

Most of us don’t want to think about how vulnerable our power supply really is and don’t make even minimal plans for life without electricity. There is a collective denial among us that extended power outages could happen where we live. We simply choose to believe that when the lights go out, they will be back on shortly. Sometimes that happens. What if it doesn’t?

Larger institutions in our area place their hope on stand-by generators. These are good for short-term outages, but are less reliable when the power stays off for extended periods of time. And even so, these generators do not bring power to the larger population in the area.

A sustainable solution to such an eventuality has become quite elusive because we have built dependency on electrical power into the fabric of our modern life styles. Our grandparents survived quite well without electricity and so could we if we put our minds to it. But we cannot ‘flick a switch’ to erase such dependency. We have to think long and hard about how to minimize our dependence on electricity.

The question is whether we have the courage and willingness to change our lifestyles to reduce the vulnerability we now live with.

Jack Heppner

Phosphates in our Ditches

I have previously written about the phosphate cycle. In nature, plants take up phosphate from the soil, and it becomes a part of plant tissue. The nutrient is returned to the soil when the plant dies. If it is ingested by animals or people, the phosphate is returned to the soil when the animal defecates. The cycle is complete.

In modern food production systems phosphate is a scarce resource. It is mined thousands of miles from here, is transported to where it is needed and applied to fields and gardens. The phosphate works its way up the food chain, and ultimately ends up in a livestock barn or human stomachs.

We flush our toilets and that phosphate is on its way to Lake Winnipeg. Animal manure is applied to agricultural fields. If the same amount of manure phosphate is applied as what the plants will take up, the natural phosphate cycle is intact. If surplus manure phosphate is applied, the extra is on its way to Lake Winnipeg. No matter how the phosphate is treated, it does not simply disappear.

As the phosphates get to Lake Winnipeg, they encourage algal growth in the lake, which in turn consumes oxygen resulting in a sterile lake unable to support fish or anything else. 

There are currently projects underway to see whether excess phosphate can be removed from Lake Winnipeg. Experimentally, cattails in the lake are being harvested and removed to see if the lake could benefit from such a removal. This may offer possibilities, but in my mind, the biggest problem is not addressed: the recovered phosphate is now a long ways from where it is needed, namely the farm fields.

Recently, David Dawson pointed out to me that the Highways Dept and Municipalities cut the grass and cattails in our ditches regularly. The lush growth in the ditches is the result of nutrients coming off the adjacent fields. In spring, many of these ditches become raging torrents. The rotting mass of cut grass is flushed down into the rivers and into Lake Winnipeg where it releases its phosphates.

Suppose, David says, an enterprising farmer cut the grass in the ditch, baled it up, took it to his farm and fed it to his cattle. Then the farmer collected the manure from his cattle and dumped it back in the ditch. There would be an outcry and rightly so. But, in fact, the farmer would be returning less to the ditch than he had taken out. The cattle would have utilized a good part of it. So why is it OK to leave all that grass in the ditch but not OK to dump the manure back in the ditch?

If we are seeking ways of removing phosphate from Lake Winnipeg, surely it makes more sense to prevent the phosphate from getting there in the first place. A relatively simple solution would be that the Highways Dept include in its grass cutting contracts a clause that the cut grass be removed. The material could be composted and recycled for public use. It’s not rocket science.

By Eric Rempel