It happened again. Paul and I came up with another idea to make the world a better place. OK, just our little corner of Iowa. Still, it’ll likely be the end of us.
The last time we did this, it cost nearly half our life savings and we’re still in court. We learned that the Iowa farmland biz chews up and spits out soft-hearted, do-gooders like us. We then launched the Sustainable Iowa Land Trust, which has turned our personal misery into a positive force for Iowa. Last March, I retired from SILT.
This time, we thought we’d start a “farm membership” business. People would pay for a year’s worth of nature farm experiences at our place, Draco Hill. For one low annual fee, members could choose to participate among events like burning the prairie, foraging, walking through prairie or woodland flowers, harvesting prairie seed, picking fruit and other fun stuff. We thought charging something would get people more committed and offset some maintenance costs.
Economist Adam Smith developed the idea of the “invisible hand” of the market in the 18th century. According to him, self-interest drives a healthy economy. White, able-bodied, male reactionaries, neoliberals and gamblers love this theory because all you need to succeed is a good idea and a strong sense of greed. Race, class, gender, access to resources, policies that favor corporations over people, any values related to the collective good? Ditch ’em. They don’t matter.
I can’t compete with a dead economist whose theories have been adopted by almost every industrialized nation, the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank. Hundreds of countries now billions in debt are driving their people into poverty thanks to these boys. Who am I to argue with such genius?
It’s just that in my humble experience, what we think of as the market isn’t the only invisible hand out there. Banks and insurance companies are wrapping themselves around the throat of trust, generosity, kindness and every other value foreign to profiteers. It’s hard to operate on those values when they suffer from oxygen deprivation.
Last time, that time we’re still in court for, we couldn’t find a lender in the entire country to finance ag land in Iowa unless it grew corn, soybeans, pigs or chickens as commodities. One lender hung up when I said we planned to grow fruit!
This time, we can’t find an insurance company willing to cover our little venture. Invisible underwriters have declared that people picking their own fruit from berry bushes or walking on mowed trails is too risky. We never even got to discuss price or how prairie burns and chainsaws have to come off the list.
This is how power determines our landscape. Agritourism can’t take off in Iowa if no one will insure it. Farming fruits and vegetables can’t happen at scale if no one will finance the land for it. Pasture-raised meat can’t compete so long as Cargill gets the handouts. Ironically, sustainable table food farmers are often called socialist for not coloring inside the lines while they compete against a government-subsidized commodity industry and government-subsidized housing developers (can you spell TIF?) for land and markets.
“There’s no market for that,” a favorite refrain of Iowa State and everyone else profiting from the status quo, is a crock of government-subsidized stinkin’ pig poop.
So, we decided we’re not going into business. Instead, we’re inviting everyone here FOR FREE. We’re getting back to what Paul calls the “karmic economy.” If that means we’re socialists then the invisible underwriters, I mean invisible hand, made us that way.
We can hear Adam Smith rolling in his grave…and that’s OK.
Live near East Central Iowa? Get details and join the mailing list. We’ll send you invitations throughout the year. Just let us know you’re coming so we can plan properly. (Paid subscribers get a special treat on your visit. Just remind me!)
Good job Suzan. In 1982 when Larry and I went to our local, hometown bank to apply for a risk free to the bank loan to grow strawberries, they said “We don’t know how to grow strawberries.” From my memory, I held back tears as I pounded on the loan officer’s desk and yelled “You don’t have to know how to grow strawberries, you need to make a loan so we can buy an irrigation system!” I then stomped out the door. Sheesh! Things haven’t changed much, have they?
Arrhhggg…