Do you think modern computer readings of fields for the purpose of maximising crop productivity is compatible with the attitude you describe here of appreciating the soil and uniqueness of the land with personal vision and touch?
I am an idealist at heart and I would say that I believe the farmer working close and directly with his soil is the gold standard that cannot be supplanted by modern computers/machines. Proximity to the soil fosters a disposition of care and attentiveness that draws upon the farmers knowledge and expertise of his/her land to meet the diverse needs of different parts of his field. Plus, over time, this knowledge and expertise is strengthened so that the farmer becomes more competent steward of his land and instinctively knows its needs. He can also perceive other needs and requirements of his land beyond fertility requirements (such as noting areas of compaction, the presence of pests or beneficial species etc) which a machine/computer with only one function/task cannot.
That said, I know that most farmers due to the system they are locked in (which demands efficiency and cost saving) do not have the time to foster this habit/disposition. Therefore I see precision agriculture which utilises machines as a compromise that I would support (with many caveats). However, precision agriculture is expensive and thus presents a barrier for many farmers. Thus, I still see the need for the habits of attentiveness and proximity to return.
This post, together with the previous one, "You Are Where You Are", converge and encourage the "case against travel" which has been growing in me. The forest in my vicinity is no less beautiful, and a walk in it no less restorative, than a wilderness hundreds of miles away. The mountains in my country can bring the same mystics and require no less physical effort to hike than those on another continent. Indeed, instead of the incessant pursuit of new sensations, often we can broaden our horizons by opening our eyes more widely, just where we are.
This is a good application to make, Jacek, and you are right about both my recent essays tying into this theme. Although I greatly enjoy travelling and seeing new (and old familiar) sights, learning to appreciate my local area at a deeper level with new dimensions has been the source of much joy
In his book Come of Age, Stephen Jenkinson asserts that the word field is etymologically related to the word weld, as in the place where two things are joined. Those two things would be the wild and the village. I haven't found much to corroborate the link etymologically, but the potent image seems to serve regardless. At least is is never far from my mind as I walk the fields at the Farm here.
I like that etymological link (even if tenuous) as it makes perfect sense to me. A field is almost always a place of human management meeting the wild - human design and care expressed in the (semi) natural world.
"...the particular geology, hydrology, and pedology contained within it..."
One part of my interests is paying attention to my and others' word choices and adding words to my vocabulary. 'Pedology' was a new word for me. Your finely worded description of taking an interest in the details of the dirt around us being part of our environment was inspiring. I looked up the meaning of pedology and found that it falls in soil science as the discipline that " focuses on understanding and characterizing soil formation, evolution, and the theoretical frameworks for modeling soil bodies." That one rare word captures what some scientists spend their whole careers on.
Thanks Jesse, I had a series of seven lectures at university on my conservation degree on pedology - it is a rather fascinating and vitally important subject. Who knew soil could be so interesting and diverse.
Do you think modern computer readings of fields for the purpose of maximising crop productivity is compatible with the attitude you describe here of appreciating the soil and uniqueness of the land with personal vision and touch?
Great question Susan,
I am an idealist at heart and I would say that I believe the farmer working close and directly with his soil is the gold standard that cannot be supplanted by modern computers/machines. Proximity to the soil fosters a disposition of care and attentiveness that draws upon the farmers knowledge and expertise of his/her land to meet the diverse needs of different parts of his field. Plus, over time, this knowledge and expertise is strengthened so that the farmer becomes more competent steward of his land and instinctively knows its needs. He can also perceive other needs and requirements of his land beyond fertility requirements (such as noting areas of compaction, the presence of pests or beneficial species etc) which a machine/computer with only one function/task cannot.
That said, I know that most farmers due to the system they are locked in (which demands efficiency and cost saving) do not have the time to foster this habit/disposition. Therefore I see precision agriculture which utilises machines as a compromise that I would support (with many caveats). However, precision agriculture is expensive and thus presents a barrier for many farmers. Thus, I still see the need for the habits of attentiveness and proximity to return.
Incidentally, I will be discussing Precision Agriculture in the follow up essay to this one.
I'm not sure if Substack allows internet links, but just saw a new article on that topic https://childrenshealthdefense.org/defender/precision-agriculture-farmers-consumers-regenerative/?utm_source=luminate&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=defender&utm_id=20240130
This post, together with the previous one, "You Are Where You Are", converge and encourage the "case against travel" which has been growing in me. The forest in my vicinity is no less beautiful, and a walk in it no less restorative, than a wilderness hundreds of miles away. The mountains in my country can bring the same mystics and require no less physical effort to hike than those on another continent. Indeed, instead of the incessant pursuit of new sensations, often we can broaden our horizons by opening our eyes more widely, just where we are.
This is a good application to make, Jacek, and you are right about both my recent essays tying into this theme. Although I greatly enjoy travelling and seeing new (and old familiar) sights, learning to appreciate my local area at a deeper level with new dimensions has been the source of much joy
In his book Come of Age, Stephen Jenkinson asserts that the word field is etymologically related to the word weld, as in the place where two things are joined. Those two things would be the wild and the village. I haven't found much to corroborate the link etymologically, but the potent image seems to serve regardless. At least is is never far from my mind as I walk the fields at the Farm here.
I like that etymological link (even if tenuous) as it makes perfect sense to me. A field is almost always a place of human management meeting the wild - human design and care expressed in the (semi) natural world.
"...the particular geology, hydrology, and pedology contained within it..."
One part of my interests is paying attention to my and others' word choices and adding words to my vocabulary. 'Pedology' was a new word for me. Your finely worded description of taking an interest in the details of the dirt around us being part of our environment was inspiring. I looked up the meaning of pedology and found that it falls in soil science as the discipline that " focuses on understanding and characterizing soil formation, evolution, and the theoretical frameworks for modeling soil bodies." That one rare word captures what some scientists spend their whole careers on.
Cudos for some fine writing!
Thanks Jesse, I had a series of seven lectures at university on my conservation degree on pedology - it is a rather fascinating and vitally important subject. Who knew soil could be so interesting and diverse.
Good work... as usual.
Thanks Seth, appreciated.