Organic farming involves unusual risks and demands unusual initiative. So why have many Illinois growers chosen this row to hoe?A farmer in northern Illinois grows high-quality tomatoes for upscale restaurants in Chicago. Another in southeastern Illinois markets a variety of produce to consumers in Evansville, Ind., on a subscription basis. A third in central Illinois sells soybeans at more than three times the normal market price for export to Japan.
The common factor in these diverse operations? All three farms are certified organic.
Conventional agriculture is a tough business. Organic agriculture, which involves giving up chemical defenses against pests and weeds and adopting other practices in their stead, is even tougher.
For goods to be labeled "organic" by food processors, or to be marketed as organic regionally or nationally, farms must meet extensive certification requirements and pass annual inspections. A few states have certification programs, but in most, including Illinois, growers must apply to one of various private agencies for certification. In 1994 a USDA survey found that just one-third of one percent of U.S. cropland in production was certified organic.
Given the risks and headaches, what motivates someone to grow organic, and what traits enable them to succeed?
These questions have intrigued Leslie Duram, an assistant professor of geography, since she was a doctoral student. They're especially relevant now, with the U.S. Department of Agriculture soon to announce the first uniform certification standards.
For her doctoral dissertation several years ago, Duram compared organic and conventional farms in Colorado. In 1996 and 1997, she followed up that research by surveying the 70-plus certified-organic farmers in Illinois. She got responses from half of them and did in-depth interviews with 20 growers around the state. It's time to retire the stereotype of organic farmers as radical environmentalists tending small vegetable plots, she says. The folks she got to know had motivations as diverse as their farms--and economic reasons predominated.
Certified-organic farms in Illinois are profitable across a spectrum of farm sizes and types, she found. About 40 percent produce vegetables and herbs; nearly all of these farms are 10 acres or less. Almost 50 percent produce grains and legumes, and another 10 percent produce both grains and vegetables. Farms in these two categories ranged from 30 to 1,800 acres, with an average of 260. The remaining farms focus on livestock.
Nearly 4 of every 10 certified-organic producers in Illinois entered farming from other occupations. Many of these growers have a business background, and they generally have gone into small-scale vegetable farming, often in the suburban Chicago area. With savvy marketing, says Duram, "You can make quite a lot of money on a couple of acres of organic vegetable production."
Ironically, most of the other producers saw organic farming as the last, best means of hanging onto their family farms in an era of mega-operations.
"A lot of these folks feel strongly that government policy has caused a decline in family farms," says Duram. "They feel that if a farmer isn't doing well economically with conventional methods, organic is an option. They see it as really viable."
Aside from economic motivations, health concerns were cited by the organic farmers in Illinois, almost all of whom worry about exposure to pesticides and herbicides in farm work. Environmental concerns also motivate this group, but are less frequently cited.
Duram's research in Colorado and Illinois shows that successful organic farmers are proactive risk-takers. "Organic farmers tend to be self-guided," Duram notes. "These farmers ask questions wherever they can get answers."
Because they have few ready sources of technical assistance, they must be good at gathering information on their own--from books to word of mouth. Because their yield will not match that of conventional farms, they must compensate by finding markets that will pay a premium for organic crops.
"Organic farmers are thinking of specific niches so they can make it, perhaps on fewer acres," says Duram.
Diversification is key to success. Organic farmers in Illinois raise everything from bok choy, buckwheat, beets, and basil to the more usual corn, soybeans, hogs, and cattle.
Small-scale growers sell directly to restaurants (mainly in the Chicago area); to farmers markets and natural food stores; and to community-supported agriculture groups, in which people "subscribe" to a farm and are supplied a certain amount of produce each week.
Large-scale growers raising grains, vegetables, and livestock initially had to seek out their own markets as well. Increasingly, however, wholesalers and organic grain elevators are seeking them out. Consumer demand has been growing: U.S. supermarket sales of organic products jumped from $98 million in 1993 to $210 million in 1995. The total value of organic products sold in the United States in 1996 was estimated at $3.5 billion. Europe is importing more organic grain, and organic farmers in Illinois, a top soybean-producing state, are benefiting from a booming demand for organic soybeans in Japan.
"Soybeans are the big money crop for the larger organic producers," says Duram. "They're very aware of international markets."
Independence and individualism are highly valued by organic farmers. The Colorado farmers in particular, whom Duram dubbed "rebels," seemed to seek the challenge of succeeding where other farmers had predicted they'd fail. "If somebody tells me that it can't be done, I will prove that it can be done," one told her. "I'll try all avenues before giving up."
Most of the Illinois organic producers Duram has interviewed were conducting on-farm experiments, testing various combinations of processes and technologies to improve their results. They've learned to shrug off gossip or criticism about their unusual methods and their weedier fields.
That can be a rough transition; conventional farmers making their first forays into organic territory often worry about appearances. Duram asked one farmer trying out five acres of certified-organic soybeans why he'd sited them where he had: did that field have richer soil? Better drainage? No, he replied: "It's farthest from the highway."
Organic farming is a complicated proposition. Most certification agencies stipulate that fields cannot have had any synthetic chemicals, including synthetic fertilizer, applied to them for at least three years prior to certification. Farmers must provide buffer zones between organic acreage and nonorganic acreage, including neighboring farms.
But organic farming goes far beyond simply not using chemicals on land or crops. The use of many substances in farming operations--such as chlorine, used to clean equipment--is prohibited or restricted. Farmers who have only some certified acreage must keep their organic and nonorganic operations separate, from planting to transportation of the harvested crop. Livestock cannot be given growth hormones or antibiotics.
Among other requirements, farmers also must to able to show evidence of soil-building on their land each year. For grain producers, a standard corn/soybean rotation isn't sufficient; certification requires at least one additional crop, such as wheat, rye, oats, or hay, in the rotation schedule. This diversity helps soil fertility and cuts down on insect pests. Livestock pasturing often is part of the rotation too: the manure enriches the soil.
When the USDA finalizes and implements uniform certification standards, consumers will benefit by knowing exactly what is meant by "organic." But organic farming is such a grassroots endeavor that many of its practitioners in Illinois worry about the intrusion of government bureaucracy, says Duram.
Virtually all of the certified-organic farmers in Illinois have their certification through the Organic Crop Improvement Association, whose requirements are among the strictest. If the new standards are more lenient, Duram explains, these farmers may not be allowed to advertise that they meet more-stringent requirements, depending on the final USDA rules. In addition, she says, "If we make the standards too loose, our exports are not going to be accepted internationally, and that would really hurt farmers." She hopes to study the effect of the forthcoming USDA rules on organic farming operations here.
Over and over, the Illinois farmers stressed to Duram that consumers must be willing to pay a fair price for food. As one pointed out, the price farmers get for a bushel of corn is lower now than it was over most of the past three decades, but the price of a tractor--like virtually everything else--has gone up several-fold. "That's why farmers have to be worried about yields--they have to get so many more bushels to break even," says Duram.
It's certainly a gamble for someone with no agricultural background to start a small organic operation. But Duram thinks it's a more radical move for a long-term farmer to switch from conventional methods.
"Their whole background is telling them 'high yield,' and you need chemical use to do that," she says. "Those first three years are scary--plus you have to learn all this new information."
She adds, "These are some really gutsy farmers."
Leslie Duram's study of organic farmers in Illinois was funded by SIUC's Special Research Program and conducted with the help of Kelli Larson, a master's student in geography.