Market Farming

["Tradingpost" <tradingpost AT gilanet.com>]

from A Guide to Heirloom Varieties and Community-Based Stewardship
http://www.nal.usda.gov/afsic/AFSIC_pubs/heirloom/heirloom.htm

Like any heirlooms passed from generation to generation, the vintage 
varieties of garden plants that we still grow today have lasting value. Some 
old types of vegetables have been kept alive within families or communities 
by succeeding generations of seed savers. Others with a long history in the 
seed trade can be traced back to the 19th C., when commerce in seeds 
expanded, or even to the Colonial period. Some consider true heirlooms to be 
those belonging to the first group above, the "folk varieties" that have 
existed for long periods outside of commercial and professional plant 
breeding circles. Most, however, favor more inclusive usage, viewing all 
traditional varieties, regardless of their lineage or means of distribution, 
as bona fide heirlooms.

(In practical terms, making such distinctions can be difficult, since many 
old varieties are poorly documented, and the same or similar varieties may 
exist under different popular names. These uncertainties, along with changes 
in physical traits that occur naturally as plants are continually propagated 
over time, can make it difficult to know the origin and identity of a 
particular cultivated variety. From a stewardship perspective, the more 
inclusive view may be more useful, since both types are threatened with 
commercial extinction, their continued survival depending largely on popular 
interest and initiative. According to the 1994 Garden Seed Inventory, for 
instance, two-thirds of the 5000 non-hybrid varieties available in 1984 seed 
catalogs from North America were dropped during the next decade.1)

With respect to heirlooms, how old is "old"? Most people agree that heirloom 
vegetables and fruits are those types known through historical documentation 
or folk history for at least 50 years. Dating to the early 20th C. and 
before, many originated during a very different agricultural age--when 
localized and subsistence-based food economies flourished, when waves of 
immigrant farmers and gardeners brought cherished seeds and plants to this 
country, and before seed saving had dwindled to a "lost art" among most North 
American farmers and gardeners. For apples, for instance, antique apple 
grower and historian Lee Calhoun uses 1928 as the cut-off date to delineate 
the heirloom varieties that were once grown in the U.S. South. By this time, 
subsistence farming in the region had nearly disappeared and commercial apple 
breeding was severely diminished. (According to his research, only 300 of the 
1600 apple varieties that originated or were once grown in the South still 
exist.2)

In addition to their long history of use, the heirloom vegetables that are 
routinely grown from seed are open-pollinated, meaning that they set seed 
"naturally," often aided by wind, rain, or pollinating insects, and can thus 
be renewed by sowing the seeds harvested from each generation of plants. 
Known also as standard or non-hybrid, open-pollinated varieties tend to be 
stable and true-breeding. They differ from F1 hybrids, which in usual 
practice result from deliberate crossing of two distinct, highly inbred 
parent lines. (The term "F1" to describe the hybrid offspring indicates the 
"first filial" generation, with respect to the parent lines.)

Since their genetic makeup has been manipulated--and simplified--in this way, 
F1 hybrids tend to be highly uniform, and may display "hybrid vigor," as 
shown by improved yields or more robust garden or field performance. 
Irrespective of hybrid vigor (which tends to occur in particular kinds of 
plants, including corn and brassicas), hybrids are used increasingly in 
large-scale, intensive agriculture because they provide production advantages 
for farmers and commercial incentives for seed sellers. The benefits of 
hybrids tend to be less cut-and-dried for home gardeners, however, and saving 
seeds from hybrids is problematic. Although seed collected from F1 hybrids 
may be viable, the resulting plants tend to be highly variable, hence 
undesirable for many growers and especially un-economical for commercial 
producers. Thus, gardeners and farmers who grow hybrids must return to the 
seed company each year to obtain the same varietal "package."

Many of the perennial fruits grown in gardens and orchards (including 
slow-growing trees and shrubs), and also a few of the more popular garden 
vegetables (such as potatoes and onions), are propagated routinely by plant 
pieces or cuttings, rather than by seeds. In addition to faster maturity, a 
distinct advantage offered by grafting apple trees or planting potato "eyes" 
(the portion of the tuber containing the growing point) is that these 
procedures preserve varietal identity. With apples and a number of other tree 
fruits, for instance, desired traits are not passed reliably through seeds, 
and many potato varieties fail to flower or to produce functional seeds. For 
these kinds of plants, like the vegetables typically grown from seed, 
heirloom varieties are also the distinct named types known for at least a 
half-century or so.

Growing interest in heirlooms. Although they belong to the past, heirloom 
varieties of vegetables and fruits are by no means obsolete. Since the 1970s, 
an expanding popular movement dedicated to perpetuating and distributing 
these garden classics has emerged among home gardeners and small-scale 
growers, with interest and endorsement from scientists, historians, 
environmentalists, and consumers. Although active seed savers tend to be a 
minority among the millions of Americans who plant a garden, broad-based 
support has expanded for grassroots plant conservation networks such as Seed 
Savers Exchange in Iowa, and Seeds of Diversity Canada, two organizations in 
North America with national scope. A variety of other groups with local or 
regional membership, or with ethnic or crop-oriented focus, are also active.

With support from these networks, the seeds of vintage varieties are being 
introduced--or reintroduced--to the garden seed trade, and old varieties of 
vegetables and fruits are appearing at local farmers' and specialty markets. 
New, independent seed companies offering unique collections of regionally 
adapted varieties have emerged (a trend that serves, in some degree, to fill 
the void created from the decline in recent decades in long-established, 
regional seed companies, which have been displaced or absorbed by corporate 
seed and agrichemical firms serving national and global markets). Fruit 
hobbyist groups--whose members include antique and rare fruit 
enthusiasts--are thriving, and old fruit varieties are increasingly available 
from specialized and mainstream nurseries. Traditional crop varieties are 
being restored to native farmers and gardeners, and associated farming 
traditions revived. In addition, growing and disseminating authentic old 
varieties have become important program elements at a number of living 
historical farms and open-air museums. Besides bolstering the heirloom 
movement, these activities (which are often supported by historical research 
to discover the past uses and values of particular plants, and historical 
growing methods) lend vital support to the museums' work in recreating the 
foodways and lifeways of earlier generations.

Heirloom appeal and related issues. Interest in traditional varieties has 
been gaining momentum for a variety of reasons that are as diverse and 
difficult to characterize as the old varieties themselves. They reflect 
practical motives (which are based, for instance, on garden performance or 
epicurean interests), as well as curiosity and nostalgia, and also broader 
philosophical interests and social concerns. The opportunity to take an 
active role in preserving the genetic repository still existing in our garden 
vegetables and fruits--although impoverished in comparison to earlier 
periods--has been a strong motivator for many heirloom preservationists. And 
for some, interest in heirlooms relates strongly to the perceived limitations 
of modern hybrids and other exclusive varieties, which can be said to lack 
"pride of ancestry or hope of posterity."3

Novelty, nostalgia, and general merit. Many heirloom enthusiasts have 
discovered the endless variety and novelty still existing among the old types 
of vegetables and fruits. To some, their sensory qualities (unusual shapes, 
distinctive colors, and uncommon flavors), as well as departure from standard 
fare, are especially appealing. Even the old names exercise the imagination, 
suggesting the unconventional, and in some cases, recalling the "sounds and 
tastes and tales of gardeners past."4 (To name only a few within the existing 
pool of old varieties...consider the Cherokee Trail of Tears bean...or Moon 
and Stars watermelon...or Bloody Butcher and Howling Moon corns...or Sops of 
Wine, Esopus Spitzenburg, and Rambo apples...) According to ethnobotanist 
Gary Nabhan, expressions of curiosity and kindness on the part of crop 
stewards have, in themselves, helped to foster varietal diversity, and 
continue to support the perpetuation of traditional varieties.5 To explain 
the enormous variation in the shapes and colors of beans found among 
different cultures around the world, one scientist has suggested that, in 
addition to yield, hardiness, and flavor, beans have been selected for their 
beauty, "to feed not only the body but the spirit."6

Beyond their novelty, sentimental, or aesthetic appeal, heirlooms are 
considered by many who grow them to be top performers in home gardens, or 
under conditions that likewise differ from intensively managed, commercial 
norms, and where toughness and dependability are desirable. Or, they stand 
out in situations that display their out-of-the-ordinary qualities--superior 
flavor or cooking properties, for instance, or unique harvest or storage 
characteristics. Many traditional varieties display combinations of traits 
that make them especially responsive to local or regional conditions, or 
well-suited to particular growing methods (such as those used in organic, 
low-external-input, or permaculture systems), or tolerant of local pests and 
diseases, or other stresses and constraints. The corn and bean varieties 
developed by native Southwestern farmers, for instance, are highly adapted to 
the local soils, climate, and growing methods that shaped them, allowing 
survival of the plants, along with their caretakers, under harsh, dryland 
conditions.

Some of these sought-after heirlooms--a drought-tolerant bean; an 
insect-resistant or high-protein corn; a cold-hardy tomato; or an apple 
variety that bears early, or stores well, or is exceptional for baking, 
cider-making, or fresh-eating--have fallen from favor because they are not 
widely adapted, or they fail to satisfy commercial production standards or 
mainstream tastes. These factors limit the ability of the old varieties to 
compete against newer introductions whose general or specific attributes (or 
in some cases, their novelty) have broader appeal, making them less 
profitable to seed and plant merchants.

Sustaining connections. Those who grow and disseminate old varieties are 
offered a tangible means to engage the past, and also to cultivate community 
relationships and associated values of participation, equity, and 
sustainability.7 Some seed savers perpetuate a family legacy, or share 
favorite plants with neighbors or friends. Others express community or tribal 
kinships by growing varieties that are central to traditional, local foods 
and cuisines, or to religious practices, or that embody other cultural 
meanings. Some who delve into the histories of particular local or ethnic 
varieties discover connections to fading agricultural traditions and rhythms, 
and to the social customs of past generations. Some heirloom advocates have 
taken to heart Wendell Berry's urgings to "learn the life histories of the 
food species," to assist in reducing the growing gap between food producers 
and consumers.8

Patronizing old varieties and exploring their histories may offer gardeners 
(and other eaters) the means to honor the ancient crop stewards who 
domesticated and further refined our food plants, or to salute the efforts of 
more modern plant breeders and the years of effort often invested in a single 
improved variety. One writer, in referring to the plant selection efforts of 
North American farmers in the previous century alone, has noted that the 
genetic base that underpins our highly productive crops, which was adapted 
largely from imported plant materials, resulted from "thousands of 
experiments by thousands of farmers committing millions of hours of labor in 
thousands of diverse ecological niches over a period of many decades."9

Preserving alternatives. Particularly within the agricultural sector, there 
is growing awareness that crop surpluses, supermarket abundance, and product 
and brand name proliferation (albeit conditions more common to the developed 
nations) mask a general decline in agricultural diversity, which spans 
farming and food systems, from farmers' fields to food processing and 
distribution. Of particular concern to garden stewards is the serious decline 
in our food plants' genetic base, as evidenced by significant reduction, 
especially within this century, in the range of vegetable and fruit varieties 
grown on farms and in gardens. According to the United Nations Food and 
Agriculture Organization, crop genetic resources are being lost, on a global 
scale, at the rate of 1-2% per year.10 Many who support the preservation of 
heirlooms and other "public domain" varieties are working to safeguard a 
portion of this diminishing legacy, and also to address the factors that have 
contributed to its decline, and threaten to further undermine broad public 
participation in food production.

In North America and similar agricultural settings, a variety of forces play 
out to reduce genetic richness in the crop and livestock base, and in 
consequence, to lessen the ecologic and economic resilience of farming 
systems. Despite impressive yield gains in modern production agriculture, 
widespread adoption of simplified farming systems with low genetic diversity 
carries a variety of risks. In the short term, such systems risk potential 
crop failure, and in the longer term, they encourage the demise of the broad 
genetic base that contributes to high yields, and thus compromise the future 
genetic health of crop populations. The devastating ruin of the Irish potato 
crop during the last century, and more recent crop losses from the Southern 
corn leaf blight in the U.S. in 1970, signaled clearly the dangers of genetic 
uniformity in our staple food crops.

Especially prominent among the "enemies" of genetic diversity are the 
economic and social pressures that have influenced breeding practices that 
promote uniformity, and have encouraged extensive cultivation (within crop 
monocultures) of preferred varieties with low variability. In addition, these 
forces have stimulated decline in seed companies serving local and regional 
markets, and heightened losses in seed-saving traditions among farmers 
(themselves a disappearing breed) and gardeners.

Beyond our borders, similar influences shape events in the developing world, 
including the sites where many of our important food crops have originated 
and evolved. In some of these "centers of diversity," a variety of 
homogenizing forces imperil survival of vast numbers of existing "landraces," 
the heterogeneous, locally adapted, farmer-bred crop varieties that have 
traditionally supported local food producers and rural communities. Along 
with their wild relatives, these "gene treasures" 11 deliver the genetic 
infusions that are needed to improve crops the world over. Here also, the 
results are farming systems with diminished ecological, biological, and 
genetic complexity, fewer farmers with reduced seed-saving skills, and 
impoverished natural habitats.

It is widely agreed that wise management of our biological resources is 
central to ensuring food abundance. While broad public interest barely 
exists, issues relating to plant and animal genetic resources have taken 
center stage within the agricultural arena. How best to safeguard diminishing 
plant and animal biodiversity, while enhancing crop productivity to serve 
expanding food and fiber needs, and also preserving social and economic 
equity, have become issues of serious international debate.

Concerns over "genetic erosion" (the continuing, absolute losses in crop 
species and varieties) are intensified by questions surrounding ownership and 
equitable access to plant genetic materials. Various stakeholders--from North 
American seed savers to Third World farmers--are apprehensive over 
potentially widespread use of bioengineered varieties, including the specter 
of "terminator" seeds that fail to reproduce.12 Of concern also are expanded 
uses of legal mechanisms (such as patents and plant breeders rights, or 
restrictive commercial seed lists) that remove plant germplasm from public 
use. Alongside the many opportunities and challenges offered to the 
agricultural sector and society-at-large, at the farm and garden gates, these 
developments may work to further limit growers' access to seeds--the 
fundamental materials of plant breeding and propagation--and potentially to 
risk further declines in plant genetic diversity.

Fostering participation and choice. Preserving a measure of personal or 
community independence is an important motivation for many who perpetuate 
heirlooms and other public domain varieties, whether a grower plants a garden 
for the many pleasures it brings, or chooses particular foods for the table. 
Seed saving is inherently self-reliant, allowing people to bypass the seed 
trade and to maintain choice varieties found commercially wanting, or to 
breed desired types themselves. (Organic growers, for instance, who seek to 
grow "full-cycle," are working to ensure the continued availability of 
organically grown seeds, which may lose quality as they become economically 
marginalized.) Alongside farmers' markets, community-supported agriculture, 
urban and community gardens, and similar initiatives, grassroots efforts to 
preserve heirlooms and other commonly-held varieties may contribute to 
efforts to return food production and consumption from "the global 
everywhere"13 to serve more locally responsive and regionally reliant food 
economies.14

Community-based stewardship. There are considerable ongoing efforts by 
national governments and international organizations to preserve plant 
germplasm (i.e., seeds and other plant materials) in "genebanks" (known also 
as ex situ or "offsite" storage). These measures fall short as fail-safe 
approaches, however, since they "protect the products of evolution, but not 
the process,"15 and they rely heavily on continued political stability and 
support, including sustained governmental funding. Although their stored 
plant materials are held for public use, the U.S. collections, in particular, 
fail to serve the direct needs of many gardeners and other small-scale 
growers, since the stored materials are largely those favored by professional 
plant breeders to improve commercial crops. Thus, the national collections 
consist overwhelmingly of breeding lines and other specialized types of 
germplasm, as well as farmers' landraces and wild relatives of crop species. 
The old commercial varieties and family heirlooms of various garden crops 
(many of them lacking the "deep diversity" typically sought by breeders), and 
crops with low commercial appeal, have received less priority. (Limited 
institutional resources, alongside the recent growth of alternative suppliers 
in the form of grassroots seed banks and exchanges, work also to restrict 
seeds and other materials to professional users who, in exchange for plant 
germplasm, agree to return agronomic information on the seeds and other 
materials received.)

Within the "PGR community" (i.e., those with diverse roles and interests in 
managing plant genetic resources), there is expanding support for 
conservation strategies that rely on more natural settings, including 
farmers' fields and garden plots. Managing crop resources under these 
conditions, which are a form of in situ conservation (or conservation "in 
place"), may serve to enhance and complement the "Noah's Ark"16 strategy that 
has been emphasized traditionally in the formal conservation sector. Within 
their original and natural environments, crop plants are subjected to 
particular changing conditions and stresses, and thus are continually shaped 
by natural selection. A further advantage, from the point of view of 
community stewards, is that such measures put vital plant germplasm into as 
many "hands" as possible. People are thus allowed continued access to plant 
materials valued for their horticultural, cultural, and historical relevance, 
and with their qualities--for better and worse--clearly visible.17

Variety's merits. As their commercial demise suggests, the old vegetable and 
fruit varieties are not uniformly appreciated. To some, they are 
retrograde,18 championed by people seeking a return to simpler times. Others 
doubt that quality seeds can be produced by gardeners or farmers, and 
farmers' breeding efforts are generally dismissed as nonprogressive. Some 
have disparaged the "confused condition" that accompanies varietal and name 
proliferation,19 and decentralized production and conservation, and question 
whether nonspecialists can, or should, play an important role in conserving 
plant genetic resources.

Among gardeners, many choose freely among the growing array of old and new 
varieties currently available, acknowledging the gains (such as improved 
disease and pest resistance) conferred by plant breeders, and advances in 
seed purity and quality provided by professional seed producers. Heirloom 
promoter Carolyn Jabs has acknowledged, for instance, that in light of modern 
breeding work, as well as changing tastes and environments over time, "some 
heirlooms do resemble museum pieces."20 Likewise, Seed Savers Exchange 
co-founder, Kent Whealy, has asserted that the network is not "anti-hybrid," 
but he points out that the ascendency of modern hybrids has loomed large in 
the "wholesale destruction of traditional standard varieties."21

Narrowing discussion of the values of old and new varieties to their 
respective horticultural merits ignores the broader appeal of traditional 
varieties--as cultural, historical, and genetic resources--and deflects the 
complex issues that surround their use. Focusing attention on "need for 
improvement" in old varieties discounts the potential tradeoffs in terms of 
diversity, quality, and broad public participation that have accompanied 
specialization, standardization, and consolidation in agricultural 
production.22 Or, to paraphrase another observer, "[E]very seed of change, 
whether accidental or incidental, [has] both positive and negative 
consequences."23

In the end, the question of whether old or new varieties are "better" remains 
elusive, since the answer implies values and priorities: Better for whom, and 
for what purposes? As seed activists Cary Fowler and Pat Mooney have written, 
"Someone else's seeds imply someone else's needs."24 Growing old varieties 
allows people to express their individual tastes and preferences, and their 
personal or commonly-held beliefs about what is worth sustaining. As Carolyn 
Jabs has put it: "In a world...changing so rapidly, one of the most 
meaningful things we can preserve...is a full range of possibilities."25

More than seventy-five years ago, Liberty Hyde Bailey asked readers of The 
Apple Tree, "Why do we need so many kinds of apples?" His answer--"Because 
there are so many folks."26 In the same book, the eminent American 
horticulturalist lauded the part played by the "amateur" in creating, 
appreciating, and preserving variety in our domestic fruits, declaring that 
"when we lose the amateur, we lose the ideals."27 Professor Bailey 
anticipated the views of modern heirloom stewards when he stated that 
"...there is merit in variety itself. It provides more contact with life, and 
leads away from uniformity and monotony."28

A note on terminology: The terms used to describe old varieties are varied 
and often used loosely. Some writers lump together such terms as landraces, 
and folk, traditional, indigenous, or heirloom varieties. Others make 
distinctions among these different terms, reflecting differences in the 
geographic and cultural histories of old varieties (and thus their genetic 
diversity aspects). The term "landraces," for instance, is favored by 
scientists and seed professionals to indicate the particular kinds of old 
varieties that are farmer-selected in areas where local subsistence 
agriculture has long prevailed. (According to this usage, among the New World 
crops, "landraces" is most accurately applied to the varieties of corn, 
squash, and beans, for instance, that were domesticated by native farmers, 
and further modified by native and also immigrant farmers.)

For the purposes of this publication, the term "heirloom" is used broadly and 
synonymously with such terms as traditional, vintage, antique, heritage, or 
classic, since each of these terms conveys the age and perceived value of 
heirlooms, but says little about who grows them, or where, or how. This usage 
follows that of plant breeder, Carolyn Deppe, who describes the 
seed-propagated vegetable heirlooms as "any old open-pollinated variet[ies] 
that [have] been around for a while."29 Also for this publication, the term 
"historical varieties" denotes the distinct plant types known from historical 
documentation; when they still exist today, they are called "heirlooms" or 
the equivalent. Otherwise, the terms used to describe old varieties are 
adopted, or inferred, from the respective authors' more specific or contrary 
usage.