by Andy Gricevich, Newsletter Writer
Climate change—the phrase summons an apocalyptic sense of panic and helplessness in many people who recognize the seriousness of the situation. Without very widespread change in the way humans operate on the planet, things will clearly get worse. On the other hand, knowing that we do have some agency—even if our individual efforts may never be enough on their own—can be a cure for despair and a foundation for greater engagement.
The food system plays an important role in climate change. We carbon-based animals, and the carbon-based organisms we need to eat in order to survive, are definitely enmeshed in the production of excess carbon dioxide that raises temperature levels, melts glaciers, and produces crazy and destructive weather systems. Largely obligated to live as consumers, we have the potential freedom and responsibility to eat in ways that encourage an abundance of plant life that takes carbon out of the air and stores it in the form of food and soil, to the benefit of all life on Earth.
SOIL, DENSITY, AND DIVERSITY
Healthy soil forms the literal foundation of a resilient climate. Soil health depends on nutrient content, soil structure, and the interaction—aboveground and below—between plants and other organisms, from fungi and bacteria to pollinating insects, birds, and bison. Good soil, high in organic matter, retains water and allows some of it to reach deep aquifers, replenishing the water supply. Most importantly for climate considerations, healthy soil supports the dense growth of a diversity of plants. That density means maximum carbon being pulled from the atmosphere. Diversity makes for a robust plant community, with lower risks from pests and disease, and with a balanced nutrient exchange between all parties.
Conventional agriculture wreaks havoc on soil health. Deep tillage (plowing) with large implements, or the impact of cattle left in one area for a long time, destroy soil structure. Water runs over compacted landscapes, causing erosion and runoff. The cultivation of only a small number of plant species leads to nutrient depletion, and our methods of eradicating any but those desired species leaves a lot of bare, compacted ground to reflect solar radiation back upward, rather than harnessing it via the natural solar panels we know as green plants. Add to this all the emissions involved in the entire process (methane from big livestock operations, diesel exhaust from trucks shipping food all over the country, heat and gas generated by cooling systems), as well as the petrochemical herbicides and pesticides widely employed, and the carbon footprint of the dominant food system looks pretty bad.
ORGANIC AND BEYOND
Fortunately, there are alternatives. Organic agriculture was founded with soil health as a central concern, fueled by the desire to get away from synthetic chemicals in food production. Not all organic farms are created equal, though. The big California growers often also depend on heavy tillage, large machines, and wide rows with a lot of bare ground between, and don’t necessarily engage in thoughtful practices of crop rotation. From a climate perspective, the best organic farms are local and comparatively small.
Much organic vegetable farming is trending toward planting as densely as possible, minimizing bare ground and leaving little space for weeds. Farmers focus on companion planting, in which crops grown together provide one another with nutrients, shade out competition, or deter pests. While it can be a challenge to grow everything, most small organic farms emphasize diversity and practice regular crop rotation, while leaving uncultivated space on the farm for trees and wildlife.
Biodynamic farming continues to draw adherents among farmers. At its purest, this approach aims to be not only self-sufficient, but to increase ecological health, incorporating plants, animals, and natural cycles in intertwined relationships, treating the farm as a whole, complex organism. Permaculture emphasizes the design of food-production systems that, ideally, produce no waste and regulate themselves, mimicking the most mutualistic and productive relationships found in nature. Carbon sequestration, water dynamics, soil health, and lack of pollution are all important matters in permaculture, which has deeply influenced many organic farmers to adopt its principles in whatever ways they can. Such approaches go beyond the USDA requirements for a certified organic label, viewing the farm in the context of a greater ecosystem and human community. Getting to know more about the methods of your local farmers, and supporting the folks engaging in the best practices, is a great way to eat for climate resiliency.
PERENNIAL FAVORITES
There’s a strong movement in Wisconsin geared towards nudging our diets toward more perennial crops. These plants grow back from the same roots every year, and therefore don’t require tillage, or more than one mechanized planting—just some weeding, mulching, and occasional water. Compared to annual food plants (mostly what you’ll find in the produce department), perennials have much deeper root systems; they open the soil and channel nutrients from and into the soil.
A mix of trees, perennial understory plants, and grazing animals can add up to the most productive food landscapes, with multiple tiers of vegetation gathering sunlight and making compost and mulch, and the grazers contributing pruning and extra fertility. Tree crops are about the most sustainable food one could wish for, and the trees common in our foodshed tend to allow enough light to reach the ground to host other perennial food plants. Regionally grown chestnuts, hazelnuts, and berries of all kinds, as well as apples, peaches and other fruit, are readily available at your Co-op, while hickory and black walnuts can often be found at farmers’ markets.
While they’re not perennial plants, it’s worth mentioning that mushrooms are also a great climate-friendly food. The fungal mycelium, from which they fruit over repeated seasons, plays a vital role in soil health, retaining and moving water and nutrients and breaking down dead plant material to add fertility to the soil. They also sequester a large amount of carbon. Some studies have shown that soil bacteria, while generally beneficial, exude a significant amount of CO2, especially under conditions of high heat and bare soil. Fungi “bank” carbon, making it less accessible to the microbes and storing it for later use by plants. They’re a crucial part of the soil food web that perennials depend on.
A number of readily available vegetables are, or can be, perennials. These include asparagus, arugula, rhubarb, artichokes, collard greens, chives, sunchokes, and many herbs. Eating more perennials can lessen our dependence on annual grains. Grain-based agriculture, especially on a large scale, is a highly significant contributor to climate change. When we eat flour and cornmeal, we’re fortunate to be able to choose food produced by smaller, local operations like Meadowlark Organics, who put sustainability and ecological restoration front and center in their philosophy and practice.
Other folks have been working for decades to find ways to perennialize grains. Kernza, a perennial form of wheat developed by Kansas’ Land Institute, has begun to appear on the market, and early plantings of perennial rice have also taken place. The development of hybrid perennial grains, if they’re adopted on a wide scale, may alleviate many of the ecological problems associated with most grain production.
RESTORATIVE GRAZING
It’s hard to argue with the claim that, on a national level, having less meat in our diets is an important part of climate-conscious eating. Not only do conventional cattle (and hog) operations damage the landscape and produce greenhouse gases—they also require vast quantities of corn and soybeans to feed the animals. That means massive acreages of land that could be diverse prairie, forest, or farmland oriented toward feeding humans.
Grass-fed and pastured animal farming, however, is a different story. In order to maintain a food supply, this way of raising livestock requires at least some degree of rotational grazing, in which the herd or flock is moved regularly from one paddock to another. As opposed, say, to a traditional modern dairy farm—where the cows are allowed to eat everything to the ground before being supplemented with grain—grass-based grazing, at the very least, leaves the plants with a chance to regrow before being grazed again.
Better grazers take extra steps to manage interactions between animals, plants, landscapes, and humans that achieve ecological balance, or that go farther to actively improve the environment. Many regional farmers have adopted a version of Holistic Planned Grazing (HPG), originated by Allan Savory in Zimbabwe. HPG takes into account the maximum number of variables, including different rates of plant growth throughout the year, water dynamics in a given area, the activity of local predators, the local economy, and the quality of life of the human and non-human animals involved. It emphasizes flexibility, complexity, and nuance.
Restorative grazing typically models itself on the natural behavior of wild animals like bison, who—before European colonizers put an end to their era—moved frequently in dense herds from one spot to another, eating only the lush tops of plants, creating the magnificent prairies that once covered much of the continent. Cattle managed in this way encourage the vitality of the plants they feed on, which deepen their roots each time they re-grow, loosening the soil, increasing water retention and producing more CO2-sequestering foliage aboveground. Instead of compacting the soil, the brief impact of hooves breaks it up, and helps work fertilizing manure into the ground, rather than leaving it to make harmful incursions into the ecosystem.
While some of Savory’s claims for the regenerative potential of HPG are controversial, many Midwestern livestock farmers have seen it work beautifully in action. On former cropland, springs have been restored that have been dry for decades. Savanna habitats have been re-established, with many layers of thriving foliage growing in symbiosis. Birds and insects have become abundant, and the health of the animals raised in this way has been robust, requiring little to no intervention to deal with diseases and parasites. Especially where pre-existing farmland has been converted to grazing in this manner, choosing pasture-raised meats, dairy, and eggs can support a wonderful effort to heal the land and alleviate some of the effects of climate change.
LITTLE THINGS
Whatever food we choose to eat, there are plenty of choices we can make that can improve the carbon footprint of our diets (an awkward phrase, to be sure, mixing the foot with the gut). Sourcing food locally reduces the contribution of vehicular transport to climate change, while eating seasonally takes the pressure off growers to employ added mechanical and chemical tools in order to provide a given food year-round. Buying in bulk and developing good food-storage practices (from eco-friendly containers to traditional food-preservation methods) can mean less plastic packaging filling up landfills—and less production of industrial plastics for the food system.
Food waste is a staggeringly significant contributor to climate change. As it breaks down, our carbon-based plant and animal food emits a great deal of CO2, and its effluent liquid moves across the landscape and down into the water supply. Trying not to buy more than you can eat is a good step. For inevitable waste, composting creates healthy soil and helps keep carbon in the ground, rather than the aquifers and atmosphere. It’s even better if you can get backyard chickens involved, letting them eat the scraps and turn the compost as they scratch and peck for bugs and worms. For those without the ability to compost at home, there are local companies, like Green Box, that collect food scraps and convert them to compost on a large scale.
Alleviating climate change on a global scale will take immense pressure on governments and corporations to regulate production and economics on all fronts, as well as a cultural shift away from overconsumption. While we’re working on and supporting those efforts, our food choices can make a small but significant contribution. We can eat in ways that help return carbon to the natural cycle of soil, plants, and animals. We can keep both carbon and money in our local economies and ecosystems, reducing the destructive effects of massive, export-based models. It doesn’t hurt that a potential side effect of such choices is an enriched and more active community. Walking to the local farmers’ market for delicious, locally-produced, packaging-free food; getting to know the growers and producers and talking with them about their practices and concern—such ways of relating to the food system cultivate a culture of enthusiasm and care. That kind of culture encourages people to value the well-being of the planet, and the preservation of its wonders for generations to come.