Call It Out When You Can -- April 2019

I’m not a naturally gregarious man, I don’t tend to go out of my way to meet people and nor do I tend to say much when I finally do: I’m more likely to listen and to think than to speak up and join in. Combine this with a career where I live at my place of work, and work hours that don’t make me inclined to socialise anyway, and you’re in danger of cultivating a very narrow world view indeed. 

Watching the news and reading the paper keep you informed, but these events are viewed through a lens of your own making and you’re often blind to your own biases.

Nine years ago I was encouraged to stand in the Board of Trustee’s elections and, having duly won a place at the table, took a seat on the board with my white, middle class conservative views which, I’m the first to admit, were very simplistic. It's fair to say I was a zero tolerance disciplinarian with little idea of the many different trials and tribulations faced by both teachers and students every day. 

Nine years later, having being confronted regularly with realities I never knew existed because I’d never encountered them in my own world, I leave the school governance system with a much better understanding of the huge risks faced by our Maori, Pasifika and immigrant children and a deep, abiding respect for the teachers and staff committed to helping them. I’ve shared in some great success stories too, and all of these experiences have helped broaden my views and deepen my understanding of the world beyond my farm gate.

So too with Twitter, the micro blogging social media platform I joined five years ago. Twitter has exposed me to a massively diverse range of views that had never even occurred to me on topics that I thought I was pretty well informed on. Reader, I was not well informed.

A couple of years ago I wrote a terribly racist tweet that I thought was funny; the only redeeming thing I can say about it is it came from a place of ignorance rather than spite. Some people blocked me, some people unfollowed me, many people called me out and a few took the time and energy to explain to me where I’d gone wrong. An African American lady patiently but with barely concealed anger gave me a history lesson and explained why my casual, throwaway tweet could cause so much pain. A friend chastised me privately online until I finally understood the perspective of the people I’d affected.

It’s now a little over a month since the terror attack in Christchurch. I didn’t tweet that day or the next, the outpouring of grief and rage on Twitter was too much for me and I’m not given to expressing these sentiments publicly. There were also a lot of very bad opinions floating about and I didn’t have the energy or inclination to engage with them. I still haven’t tweeted about the attacks because there are plenty of white men pushing 50 telling people what they think, another one wasn’t really needed.

A friend of mine who is an agricultural contractor shared with me an encounter he had on the day of the shooting; he turned up to a farm and was greeted by the farmer and the farmer’s daughter and it was only natural that talk turned to the tragic events unfolding in Christchurch.
“What do you think?” my friend asked as he set to work.
“Well,” replied the farmer, “that’s what’s going to happen if we let Muslims in.”

My friend was horrified and asked the farmer if he truly meant what he’d just said. When he said he did, my friend told him where he could stick his job, then packed up his gear and left. I admire him for that and only hope I have the courage of my convictions if ever faced with the same situation.

It’s easy to call people out on twitter, it’s safe and it has its place but it’s much harder to do it in person. I’m not suggesting we start telling off random members of the public on the street, but I’d like to think Christchurch has taught us it’s not okay to sit idly by and let people spew their hate or hurt others with their callous, ignorant remarks.

Choose your battles, but call it out when you can. I know I will be.

Fonterra's Culture Change -- March 2019

Is it just me or is Fonterra undergoing a remarkably rapid culture shift in a very short space of time?

Last year I attended the Ashburton leg of the Fonterra Financial Results Roadshow: quite apart from the delicious lunch and sneak preview of the new Whittaker’s ice cream, it was a chance to hear then interim-CEO Miles Hurrell  and new board chair John Monaghan deal with the unpleasant reality of Fonterra’s first ever financial loss.

Miles especially came across as humble, honest and realistic, and those are attributes in direct contrast to the brash and overly optimistic Fonterra leadership we are used to seeing. The way Miles spoke to farmers, the manner in which he answered questions and the way in which he took responsibility for Fonterra’s performance instead of taking the not unreasonable position that he was new to the role all point to this being the nature of the man rather than some PR makeover.

During the roadshow Miles made a series of promises to farmers, not least of which was a top to bottom review of the business. The speed with which this has happened can be seen in the restructuring that has already occurred within the co-op and also in Fonterra disentangling itself from the Beingmate joint venture in Australia to take full control of the Darnum plant.

The DIRA submission, which I covered last month, is another example of Fonterra’s new found realism; rarely have I seen such plain and simple language from them when dealing with such a complex topic. They stuck to the facts and backed themselves with solid data, releasing the whole submission for public scrutiny. Contrast that with Synlait who have selectively released parts of their submission and used the process as an opportunity to take pot-shots at the competition. I’m not entirely convinced that whining in the media that Fonterra pay their suppliers too much is the way to win support, or to keep suppliers for that matter.

There are signs too that Fonterra is finally coming of age and seeing itself as more than just a dairy processor, they are in fact a global food and ingredient manufacturer and are beginning to invest accordingly. In the past the co-op has stuck to its knitting, investing in dairy and dairy-related businesses over the globe with mixed results.

Fonterra has taken a stake in Motif Ingredients, a US based company that develops and commercialises bio-engineered animal and food ingredients. This is a clear sign they are looking to the future and are determined not to be left behind. Milk compounds are notoriously difficult to replicate in the lab, so Fonterra see this investment as having a stake in complementary proteins, products that Fonterra itself may use as ingredients that will integrate with and add value to their core dairy nutrition focus.

Of course GMO’s and lab based foods have their detractors.  Federated Farmers representatives were in a meeting with Air New Zealand shortly after the airline introduced the lab-grown Impossible Burger to their menu, the meeting had nothing to do with the burger, but rumour has it a Feds board member snarled “I’d like to reach over the table and stab you.”

Such are the passions that non-traditionally produced proteins inflame!

I wonder if that Federated Farmers board member is as impressed with new humble, honest and realistic Fonterra as I am.

DIRA Review, Time For Change -- February 2019

Back in June of last year I had real fears the Dairy Industry Restructuring Act (DIRA) review was going to become a political football rather than a serious look at what was best for the dairy industry and our country: Shane Jones had launched a blistering attack on Fonterra, their Chair and their performance. Winston Peters doubled down, giving Jones his full backing, and Jones renewed his attack in September.

I can only assume Fonterra had read my earlier column on how to deal with trolls because their public response was perfect: they said nothing. Without fuel the attacks lost steam and the focus shifted away from Fonterra to more responsive targets, and this is an excellent result because Fonterra’s DIRA submission is good, really good, and it deserves to be judged on its merits and not be used as stick to beat the company with.

I would urge all dairy farmers to read the submission; you can find it on the FarmSource website under the “news” tab. You don’t even have to read the whole thing, the letter from Miles sums it up nicely and Appendix A gives nice detail if you want it, I think the rest of it is there to keep the lawyers happy. If I can read and understand it then I’m sure the ministers and officials will have no problems.

DIRA came into being in 2001, allowing the formation of Fonterra which achieved one part of its dual purpose, to establish a large scale exporter of dairy products. The second purpose of DIRA was encouraging competition and protecting dairy farmers and domestic consumers.

The two big issues I wanted to see addressed in this review were access to regulated milk and the requirement for Fonterra to accept all new suppliers, known as open entry.

The regulated milk supply, where Fonterra is required to supply milk essentially at cost to competitors while they get their own supply going, was intended to foster domestic competition. 

Instead this milk was, and still is, used to make product for export. Off the top of my head I can think of four ex politicians heavily involved with dairy companies, they knew DIRA would allow them to compete internationally with Fonterra and gain a foothold overseas without the expense of first establishing their own supply chain. There’s plenty of milk being supplied at cost to ensure domestic competition and no need to continue subsiding competitor’s export ambitions. Goodman Fielder for example contracts millions of litres for local supply and even has Fonterra do the processing for them.

The open entry rule essentially requires Fonterra to accept all new suppliers so long as they are no further away than the furthest farm already being collected. Given Greenpeace’s “too many cows” campaign and the public backlash over the 5,000 cow dairy conversion in the McKenzie basin, this should be a no brainer.

Imagine if Fonterra could refuse to allow you to be a new supplier unless all your waterways were fenced and best practice riparian planting had been followed! We could be on the front foot with environmental compliance at a farm level rather than playing catch up.

This review is the chance for our Government to allow the dairy industry to move forward with confidence; I hope they use the opportunity to do what’s best. The time for cheap political point scoring is over.

Results Trump Democracy, ECan's Big Picture -- January 2019

Nearly nine years ago now the National Government sacked the Environment Canterbury (ECan) councillors and replaced them with two commissioners: Margaret Bazely and David Caygill.

There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth about the death of democracy, but that seemed to me to largely depend on whether you voted Blue, Red or Green. Governments replace democratically elected boards, namely school boards, with commissioners all the time and barely an eyebrow is raised. The focus in that instance isn’t democracy, it’s on achieving what’s best for the school and the students, and likewise the focus on Ecan being run by commissioners should be “has the region and the environment been served better for that decision?”.

We farmers are smack bang in the middle of being held to account for our impact on the environment, and largely we have been poorly served by our regional councils. At least one is embroiled in a court case to determine whether they can proceed with their proposed method of determining nitrogen losses, and another has signalled that it will plough ahead with their plans despite the likelihood of a similar costly battle.

All of this is happening too late, David Parker had been signalling for a very long time in Opposition that regional councils had dropped the ball and needed to pick up their game. They had the power to effect and enforce change and were not doing it, so now they’re going to get a National Policy Statement that clearly sets out what the government expects of them. The Minister of The Environment is not happy with regional councils, with the exception of one.

Prior to the election I had the opportunity to ask the Minister a couple of questions around the water tax that was being mooted. I asked him if he was concerned that such a tax would drive marginal cropping farms to convert to dairying in order to get the best return from their irrigation. He replied that no, he was not concerned at all. He had faith that ECan had robust processes in place to ensure land use changes had minimal environmental impact. In that meeting the Minister was effusive in his praise for ECan, going so far as to say he believed the National government had done the right thing in installing commissioners. Canterbury, he said, had nothing to fear from a change in government.

It has taken ECan a good six years to get us into this position, making unpopular decisions and forging ahead with a big picture in mind. I’ll admit that I’m a farmer who grumbled every step of the way. Why did I need a nutrient budget? A Farm Environment Plan? Why for the love of my bottom line am I paying a consultant $10,000 to secure consent to farm?

All this became clear last November when I finally had my farm audited. My auditor, Megan Hands from LandSavvy, made it clear she was setting a baseline from which I was expected to improve. It might not sound like much, but this is the major culture shift between the ECan of old and the ECan of now, it wasn’t scary. It was collaborative.

Their expectations around the environment have been made clear, companies like Ballance and Ravensdown have invested in technology to ensure I have accurate records on hand, the water meters ECan told me to install 8 years ago at my own cost are another small piece in a much larger puzzle that is just starting to make sense to me now.

Every farm in the Ecan catchment, be they dairy, drystock or arable, will now have new consents to farm based on many factors including their nutrient inputs and losses. Every year their nutrient budgets will updated and reviewed against their consents to ensure compliance, and each farm will be regularly audited to see how they stack up against a range of criteria.

There’s no doubt that some of the tools being used aren’t perfect, but these are things that can be improved and tweaked over time.

At a time when people are not shy at pointing the finger and asking “why should you be allowed to farm?” I’m very glad to be farming in an area that allows me to be reply  “this is where I am now, and this is how I’m going to improve”

Bullshit Billboards -- December 2018

As you travel north into Ashburton you are greeted by a stark black billboard with large white lettering making a very bold claim: Ravensdown & Ballance Pollute Rivers.

The billboard is in a 50km zone so your passenger may even get the chance to read the hashtag in the bottom left hand corner, #TooManyCows, and see Greenpeace’s distinct logo in the bottom right.

Shortly after passing the billboard you’ll drive over the bridge that spans the Ashburton River and through a flock of wheeling and squawking gulls in a scene reminiscent of the rubbish dumps of my childhood. You could take this opportunity to explain to your travelling companion that the guano from the thousands of gulls nesting in the braided river below is as thick as the irony contained in the billboard’s simplistic message.

You see, from State Highway 1 to the ocean it’s those native seagulls that are polluting our river, not a fertiliser company. There’s not as many nesting this year as have in the past, only an estimated 8000, but that’s still equivalent to 4000 cows pumping E.Coli into the river every single day.

That’s right, two seagulls excrete as much E.Coli per day as a single dairy cow, which is still far preferable to ducks, a single one of which poops out nearly 16 times as many of the nasty organisms daily as a cow does.

Up river you can still happily and safely swim, but once you reach the colony of seagulls the danger of getting sick becomes very real.

I guess NATIVE SEAGULLS ARE POLLUTING RIVERS wouldn’t cause the type of outrage their disingenuous offering is hoping for.

After you’ve explained this to your passenger they might turn to you and say “Don’t be silly, the billboard is obviously referring to nitrogen and not pathogens”.

Once you’re over the bridge you’ve got three sets of traffic lights to explain to them that nitrogenous fertiliser isn’t the main source of N leaching on dairy farms, it’s cow urine, and the cow doesn’t care whether the source on nitrogen is organic chicken poo, fixed from the atmosphere by legumes or applied by a truck: it’s still going to get ingested and excreted.

Further, your passenger might like to know that every farm in Canterbury has to submit an environmental plan and a nutrient budget to the regional council, and not only is the amount of nitrogen leached from their systems capped it is expected to fall and it’s audited annually to ensure it does. Ballance and Ravensdown are doing everything they can to help farmers achieve this.

“But too many cows!” your passenger sputters.

“Did you know that market gardens can leach three times the nitrate of the average dairy farm”, you say as you pull over, giving them something to ponder on their long walk to Christchurch.

Words Matter -- September 2018

How you say something is just as important as what you’re saying, and sometimes it can even be more important. Your tone and the words you use frame the narrative, subtly bringing the reader to your point of view even as you maintain you’re just impartially relaying the facts.

If you’ve read a major newspaper recently you could be forgiven for thinking New Zealand farmers have a drug problem: we’re addicted to palm kernel, we’re addicted to phosphate and we’re addicted to nitrogen.

 Addicted.  It’s a nasty little word than conjures up images of no self-control and utter reliance.

It’s funny because when I was feeding maize silage as a supplement I wasn’t addicted to corn, pasture makes up 90% of my cow’s annual diet and I’m not addicted to grass and when I graze my cows on oats during winter I’m not addicted to porridge.

A little less than 5% of my cow’s diet is made up of vegetable waste, because that’s what palm kernel is, and I use it for a variety of reasons: it’s significantly cheaper than other supplements by about 5c per kilogram, it’s energy dense and provides a greater milk solids response than silage and there’s almost no waste when I feed it out. Give me a comparable feed, preferably one where I don’t have to closely monitor intakes, and I’ll ditch PK in a heartbeat. That’s how addicted I am.

And why is palm kernel so readily available to me? Because the world is addicted to palm oil: almost every product you use from shampoo to infant formula, from soap to perfume contains palm oil. Next time you’re at the supermarket check the ingredients label, there’s a secret code for palm oil: vegetable oil. That’s right, there’s no requirement for manufacturers to disclose the use of palm oil in their products, which makes it far simpler to yell at farmers who don’t hide behind the euphemism of “vegetable waste”.

Omission is another trick to sway the reader; you’ll hardly ever see the world’s appetite for palm oil mentioned in an article deriding PK. A classic example of omission some months back was a story on our waterways with this frightening sentence: “If every stretch of river in the country deemed unsafe for swimming was linked into one long chain, it would be 14,000km long”. While that may be true, the author omitted to mention we have over 175,000km of rivers, but 92% unpolluted doesn’t have quite the same dramatic ring.

I’m not for a minute suggesting these issues shouldn’t be discussed and our shortcomings held up for inspection, we need to reflect on our practices and sunlight is a great disinfectant.

However when I read several hundred words in a major paper about nitrate levels in Hinds, Mid Canterbury, and see the author has interviewed only Dr Mike Joy and a recreational fisherman I do begin to wonder.

And when I read further and see no mention of ECan, no mention of farm environment plans or nitrogen baselines I begin to get suspicious.

And when I reach the end of the article and see the author seems unaware of the Hinds Managed Aquifer Recharge Scheme, the scheme that reduced groundwater nitrate levels by 75% in 6 months, I have to conclude that his bias is showing.

As the saying goes, it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you!

The Effects Of M. Bovis -- August 2018

The effects of mycoplasma bovis continue to ripple through communities, making itself felt far beyond the farm gates of the unfortunate few whose herds have tested positive. These people quite rightly attract the bulk of the media attention for, through no fault of their own, they are facing huge stress levels, devastating stock losses and an uncertain financial future.

One of the side effects of M. bovis is that here in the South Island 4-day old Friesian calf prices have taken a tumble. Calf buyers have backed out of the market, their reluctance to rear calves this season fuelled by a number of factors: fewer contracts available for 100kg calves, milk powder is expensive, cheap penicillin milk is off limits and there is the fear that the person you buy from could test positive for the disease.

Calf club days and fund raisers, community events and the life blood of some clubs, have been cancelled up and down the country. Some smaller ventures like the one run by Mid Canterbury Rugby Union have found a way to go ahead, ensuring the annual injection of some $25,000 into junior rugby continues. Larger ones however, like that run by IHC, have been put on hold at a cost of well over a million dollars to the organisation.

I had the opportunity to speak to the IHC Calf Scheme organisers before they made their decision public and was blown away by their compassion, decency and sheer desire to do the right thing. During that conversation I kept focusing on the money they were missing out on, but that never factored into their decision to suspend the event this season. Farmers, they reasoned, had been backing them for 30 years now and it was only right that IHC did what they could to protect the industry that had shown them unwavering support for so long. Yes it was a big financial blow, but a bigger blow would be to facilitate the spread of the disease.

I tweeted about IHC’s decision and said I’d still rear the two calves I’d pledged and donate the proceeds, urging other farmers to do the same. The response from the farming community was universally positive with some continuing to rear calves and others pledging a “virtual calf”, a $300 donation.

It wasn’t just the farming community that was moved by IHC’s selfless call, North Island teacher Jacky Braid saw my tweet and resolved that twitter should pitch in and help, so she set up a bank account and a goal of buying a virtual calf and asked for donations.

With the first virtual calf easily bought Jacky kept the ball rolling and donations poured in from Kiwis all over the world. Soon she had her second, third, fourth and fifth virtual calves.

She didn’t stop though and set her sights on seven virtual calves, a total of $2100 for IHC, and she fittingly reached that goal on her birthday (which also happens to be mine).

I like to think that with support like this the financial impact of IHC’s decision will be negligible and maybe, just maybe, that urban/rural divide isn’t quite as big as I thought it was.