I admit it, I am a capitalist: A big, bad, American capitalist who believes in the paradigm of consumer driven competitive markets. I used to work on Wall Street. The derivatives trading desk of one of the largest banks in the world that got us into the current economic crisis, I regretfully once called “Home.”
I am not apologetic. The world is a competitive landscape where you either sink or swim. I just hope to stay afloat, maybe on a beautiful yacht along the way. So why would I volunteer to participate in a trip that researched subsistence farming in rural Brasil? 11 women, 1 lone male for 2 weeks: Am I crazy? Probably!
Brasil is not totally new to me, nor is farming for that matter. I grew up on a pseudo “gentleman farm,” have worked for a fertilizer company, done landscaping for several years, and have close family friends who are large farmers in Brasil and are heads of some of the largest agriculture commodity trading companies in South America and the world. So again, why study rural subsistence agriculture in a region so far away from what I like to call home?
Perhaps it is the challenge of changing my beliefs, my assumptions, and my value system. When I reflect on who my closest life-long friends are, they are people who intelligently challenge everything I say, do, and believe. They are people who can present an argument clearly, can play a strong devils advocate, and are not afraid to refuse to back down. I wanted to explore whether my classmates, especially those with experience in the NGO world, had the same “chutzpah” as those who I call my closest friends. Could they hold their own, and present equally sound arguments as those from the cut throat, heartless, finance world? I was pleasantly surprised. I left with far more questions then answers.
When I arrived at Baltazar’s farm in the rural arid Northeast I was immediately reminded of John Steinbeck’s description in Grapes of Wrath of the tumbleweed rolling through the arid plains of Oklahoma. The ground was parched, the land barren, the livestock emaciated, and the trees wilting. It was a depressing site to behold. Yet in the midst of this agricultural wasteland their remained hope: an uneducated farmer with nine children who was willing to take risks. Baltazar was a true entrepreneur, or at least someone who embodied the spirit of the word. He took the risk of switching from traditional pesticide laden agriculture to organic agroecological farming. He couldn’t have been prouder. He was no wealthier then before but had empowered himself to make choices. The freedom to make choices boosted his confidence and made him content. But even more surprising was what he wanted for his kids. Education! Farming was a means to an ends – a way of life he knew that was passed down from his father. But he did not necessarily want the same life for his children. Rather, farming for him was a means of supporting his family in the hopes that they would have options, the ability to choose what they would do for a living. The freedom of choice is unfortunately tied to financial independence. Without the means to support 9 children, at least four were living in urban favellas. After transitioning to organic farming he is hopeful that for his youngest two, this will not also be their future.
Looking back on my stay with Baltazar’s family and my subsequent conversations with the NGO supporting Baltazar, I was overcome with frustration. Why was such a kind, generous, entrepreneurial man stuck in such a poor situation? The answer: It’s complicated. But what isn’t complicated is his reliance on a precious resource called Water – and there was a drought!
This led to broader questions. Why was an NGO promoting agriculture in a naturally arid region? Why were farmers located so far apart from one another making market aggregation/access all the more difficult? Why were such limited water resources being implemented by the NGO while they simultaneously promoted crops that are relatively sensitive to drought? Why promote multiple crops which prohibit scaling thereby inhibiting market access? Why were antiquated forms of water management and irrigation being taught? Why could no one quantify any form of financial impact these projects were having on the region beyond pointing to a growing number of organic farmers markets?
Many of these questions still remain unanswered which I have found to be incredibly frustrating. However the fact that these questions have not been answered has taught me a lot. What I have learned about subsistence farming in North East Brazil is that it is a multi-layered problem tied to many things, not the least of which are access to capital, education, water, land, work ethics, to just name a few.
To critique those who open their hearts to these people should not be viewed as vilification. On the contrary, it should be viewed as suggestions of how to make improvements. I believe there is a fundamental flaw in the current system. NGOs and governments alike have limited resources and differing and often contradictory interests. There will always be rich and poor people. The real question is how large will the income disparity be and how will this impact the freedom of choice and representation? Rather than asking who can be helped we should be asking who should be helped.
Ideology plays a key role in answering this question. Is the role of an NGO that of a charity, welfare system, or catalyst for creating sustainable farms that can support themselves without external assistance? Charity implies that the farmers will remain subsistence, will never stand on their own, and assistance is merely a means of scraping by. A welfare system is similar but implies a broader transformation at a communal level with the underlying assumption that farmers will perpetually be going in and out of the system. Some may succeed for a while but may fall on hard times and need assistance once again. Creating sustainable farms that graduate permanently from external assistance is much more difficult.
What I saw on the ground was that by taking too inclusive an approach, eg by trying to help everyone, the NGOs are helping no one. The problems are too complex and resources too few to try and help the entire population of subsistence farmers in North East Brazil. Rather, a comprehensive approach that tackles the full gamete of problems is needed, even if the tradeoff is to help a far fewer number of individuals.
If one does not take this approach, farmers like Balthazaar may succeed in the short-term. Unfortunately, a single relatively minor drought threatens to wipe out nearly 8 years of progress. Without providing at least security against the risks of drought, poor education, and access to the latest, albeit simple, farming techniques how are the Balthazaars of Brasil expected to permanently acquire the freedom of choice.
You may interpret what I have written as pessimistic and cold hearted, and you would be right. However, while the world of Wall Street may appear far removed from that of subsistence farming at least one lesson can be learned from the bankers. In environments with limited resources there are always tough but calculated decisions to be made. If some subsistence farmers are to ever remove themselves from the vicious cycle of poverty inclusion is not the answer. Rather focused selection with concentrated access to resources is needed.
As long that you're not stepping on others foot, then go with the flow.
Posted by: write essay | 08/22/2011 at 05:35 PM
Did you ever expect a corporation to have a conscience,when it has no soul to damned,and no body to be kicked?Do you understand?
Posted by: lacoste shoes 2010 | 07/23/2010 at 03:20 AM
Aaron, I was very compelled by your articulate description of why you journeyed to Brazil, what you learned, and what questions remain unanswered- after working for a decade in ag and development and one year in this region of Brazil, my questions abound. I also believe that:
"To critique those who open their hearts to these people should not be viewed as vilification. On the contrary, it should be viewed as suggestions of how to make improvements."
However, the response to your question of "who should be helped" is a paternalistic one. It is easy for us as outsiders to stand back and critique, easy for us to retreat home at the end of the day. And we raise valid questions with our outsiders perspective. However it is not fair for us to determine the who. In my experience, this is best left to local strategies. Diaconia is not trying to help 'everyone' - working with 50 farmers in a region of 2 million farmers seems like quite a limited and exclusive approach.
In your next post, tackle the question "what is effective assistance," and not "who should be helped," and your post will seem more genuinely open to the more humble listening and questioning that I saw you partake in during our journey.
Thank you for sharing!!!
Posted by: Shayna Harris | 03/30/2010 at 10:32 PM