It is almost a gut sense, of what to do, what to try. A nagging ache that comes from the discontent, the distrust, the fears of the consumer; and it comes from the despair of the farm sector. "The label" is only a beginning of a dialog between the consumer, their interests, their wants; and it is a dialog among farmers, between regions to find both ecological stability as well as an economic standard deserving of our efforts, our land, and our heritage.

The potato industry has been asked in obvious and oblique ways to "prove" itself. The modern, well-heeled consumer is not the former "meat and potatoes" buyer. They want more than commodity…they want connection; they want more than production…they want protection; of the food chain, the environment, of the land's image.

Recent agricultural history has been one of decline and retreat. Farm communities have lost numbers, economic vitality and in general have been unable to defend their domains against sprawl and fractionation. Much of this has been our own fault; we did not do the math, to equate the size of the marketplace with our productive output and then, we could not find the fair means to share that output. We did not give adequate value to our landscape. Not every acre of a farm should be devoted to intensive cultivation because we owe more than productivity to our natural heritage, our nation, our shared creation.

By what mechanism do farmers grow new ethics? How do farmers learn the deep lessons of responsible stewardship, of caring for and nurturing the greater farm rather than focusing on just this crop or that? By what mirror can potato farmers see themselves as consumers see us? By what crystal ball can we envision a dynamic, revitalized agricultural sector? Not one where each year brings an ever-cheapened commodity, with ever more impersonalization of the vital linkages between the farmer and the land? A former Secretary of Agriculture once said, "Get big or get out," yet our doing just that has brought neither security nor vitalization, instead just the opposite.

Enter Dean Zuleger, the WPVGA, and the World Wildlife Fund…and a creative dialog whose purpose was two-fold. To convince consumers that a farm product is not just a commodity, instead exists in a system of ethical values, land practices, and shared rewards. And to convince farmers that respectful adherence to these values, practices, and benevolences can give the agricultural sector not only a new relationship with the consumer, but encourage a more equitable and ecologically sound sharing of the fruits of our labors and indeed of all those who work in the food system and all those dependent on it.

Sanity…health, wellness of being, presence of mind…have not routinely been part of the agricultural image. Yet the farm is a Central American icon that holds a reverential place in American ethnology. Urban dwellers now, and will continue to, have a spiritual and physical connection to the rural; the farm is part of an American pantheon of heroes, pioneers, and family. The farm means more and owes more than raw, no-holds-barred output. How often the art scene has returned to the farm landscape to portray sustaining images and pertinent values. An image of belonging to place, the meaningfulness of work, the pleasures of earth, of planting and harvest, the dignity of creatures, the serenity of night, the hearken of dawn, the transcendence of landedness itself. Leopold, the pioneering ecologist, was eloquently tutored by a Central Sands farm to write Sand County Almanac; John Muir, another Central Sands native, went on from his Scots-Wisconsin roots to found the Sierra Club in order to save the "majesties of God".

What "the label" is seeking is a brave new sanity for agriculture borne out of a dialogue between consumers, environmentalists, and farmers. What do we really need to produce? What do we need to save and protect? What are the means of production? What is the nature of value and how can consumers who cherish it pay for it? The issue is more than a mere label, it is how do we save the farm, save our heritage, our landscape, save our rural space from collapsing?

The label is the revitalization of not only a Wisconsin farm product; it gives us a chance to revitalize an ideal. The label is an attempt to bring the family farm into new focus. Why? Because the farm sector has a greater duty to maintain a healthy ecosystem than any municipality, park, or wilderness area. Preserving the farm landscape is within the label's agenda; as is saving that economy, saving place, saving that host of citizens, saving the variety of wetlands, streams, hickory and pine woods, saving the heritage of hunting, and saving the urban condition from expansion to the point of dysfunction.

Saving "the Farm" has a lot more to do with the label and with America than just saving a few hundred thousand farmers. Saving the Farm is at its core species protection, a mission that can serve to promote both human- and bio-diversity, help maintain open space, and the enrichment of community.

This is why "the label" matters. It is a new starting point for not only Wisconsin potato farmers, but all of agriculture to enter into that dialogue with the consumer, with the environmental community, with road builders and city planners, with developers and manufacturers. Together perhaps we can create "a label" that protects not only product value but all the minute universes that dwell within the tender dominion of the American farm.

Last Updated on 9/21/01
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