Farming / Nature

Farming and the concept of property

I first heard about this theory during a permaculture course I took last year, and it immediately fascinated me as it made so much sense. Of course, if you settle in a place and dedicate time to growing and protecting food plants, then you will want to harvest them, the literal fruits of your labor. Growing crops involves a different kind of effort than hunting and gathering. It requires foresight, temperance and patience. Among our ancestors, those who possessed these traits were inclined to protect that for which they had worked so hard.

There are indications that farming strategies around the world, on all the different continents, have developed more or less simultaneously. Historical evidence does not seem to suggest that one particular ethnicity had a monopoly on farming and surplus food production. On the contrary, it's highly likely that different societies on different continents developed farming strategies that were more similar than those of their neighbours on the same continent, living on the other side of an impassable mountain range for example. By that, I mean that farming didn’t just spread through learning from neighbours; evidence suggests that it developed independently in different places at different times.
Yet, if we open up our modern, rather rigid definition of farming, we might find those ancient hunter-gatherer and horticulture societies maintained an intimate relationship with the land, a stewardship one might call it. They weren’t just passing through, taking whatever they could find then moving on to the next site of “extraction”. Like an animal, a plant, or any agent in a functioning ecosystem, they were taking AND giving, feeding themselves AND nourishing the soil. They would have understood themselves, without a doubt, to be part of a reciprocal relationship between all life forms on Earth. Practices such as the controlled burning of grasslands to enhance ground fertility, or intentional irrigation through flooding of certain areas to encourage forestation, demonstrate a delicate sense of responsibility, without domination or entitlement to possess.

How farming developed
If we want to further investigate the theory that "farming causes land ownership”, we must ask “what kind of farming are we talking about?”
When looking at human history, the point when farming became a more defined practice seems to be the moment when hunter-gatherer societies started to settle and take “control” of the land. They started shaping land to their human needs and manipulating it to make food production more “efficient”. These practices include plowing, sowing and fertilising to grow an abundance of edible plants.
This definition of farming fits well into our modern image of what it means to cultivate the land. With it came practices of storing food and herding livestock, and a sedentary lifestyle. Those new modes brought a kind of food security and surplus that hadn’t been known before, as deliberate cultivation of food crops increased harvests by 10, if not 100, fold. This created wealth for settlements and allowed people to develop specialisations aside from food production. Also, the production of calorically denser food that was easier to digest meant better general health and higher pregnancy rates, which led to population growth. The sudden food surplus called for structural organisation, political leadership, and a cementing of hierarchical structures, since the stored food surplus had to be kept and governed by someone.

Governing forces took on the task of distributing land, leasing it to farmers that produced food for the community. From there, concepts of ownership arose.

From there, concepts of ownership arose. Governing forces took on the task of distributing land, leasing it to farmers that produced food for the community. Centralised government developed, that held the rights of ownership to community resources, also land.
In that sense, it can be said that farming lies at the very root of land ownership. Farming allowed societies to have a surplus of food, and thereby wealth. This allowed them to develop all kinds of other skills, concepts and growth structures, which brought forth ideas of ownership and privatisation.

Ownership and commodification of land
Somewhere in this process, land changed from being a natural given, owned by no one, to a commodity, a subject of use and abuse. Something in our mindset shifted. Something had transformed in the way we assert ourselves over land and the other life forms inhabiting it.
I recently heard someone say, “As soon as you control something, you can commodify it”. That notion applies well here. Humans had taken control of land, plants and animals, and could therefore start to commodify it. 
At its core, farming is about harnessing natural processes for human gain. Using the ground and the plants that grow from it, fighting against rodents, birds, and other “pest” animals, and prioritising human-oriented outcomes — all of these are crucial to our conquest of subduing nature for our own gain. This way of approaching our relationship with the land creates a clear hierarchy, which is reflected across our societies. All our attempts to maximise profit are built upon this idea of superiority and will be the reason for our downfall one day.
From that perspective, we have much to learn from the few collectives that remain today, who live WITH the land, rather than OFF it.
Even though the industrial revolution and technology have brought much improvement for some parts of human existence, making life more complex and convenient at the same time, there is one crucial detail we have missed in our approach: we can’t live without healthy, intact ecosystems and soil. Our survival as a species depends on our willingness to remember this.
Yet, looking at it in this utilitarian way is another manifestation of the parasitic mindset that has brought us to where we are today, in the midst of an environmental crisis. Seeking to save the planet in order for mankind to survive is like telling an overworked colleague to take a break because they’re not much help if they’re not functioning at their best. The motivation here is not the well-being of the coworker, but the productivity and success of the operation. While to a certain extent it's natural that our desire to survive as a species means taking the driver's seat in decision-making, we must become aware of the nature of our motivation and understand that we can’t expect a different outcome while following the same old approach.

Can regenerative agriculture offer hope?
This is where the concept of regenerative agriculture comes in. Today the word “sustainable" is tossed around a lot, but I’ve learned that, when it comes to ecosystems, aiming for sustainability won’t be enough. If we sustain where we are today, we are sustaining an ill system. We are too far down the line already. What we ought to focus on is undoing the damage, regenerating.
Regenerative agriculture is about working with natural ecological systems, not against them. It relies on the resilience of a diversity of crops and critters that all interact together. It understands that in nature, every actor has a role, every participant has a niche and is fulfilling an important purpose. Instead of eliminating “pest” animals, it keeps them in check by introducing and encouraging biodiversity, and the participation of natural predators that contribute to the balance of a certain region. Permaculture — farming based on principles of diversity, stability and resilience — is inherently regenerative.
Soil health is fundamental to regenerative agriculture. Healthy soil means healthy microorganisms, which means fertile soil, which means abundance of life. This is what we should aim for.
Regenerative agriculture refuses the use of chemical fertilisers and insecticides, which do more damage than good. They boost productivity in the short term while depleting the soil and damaging the ecosystem until it becomes incapable of regenerating and protecting itself in the long term. It also rejects the idea of monoculture, which is another factor in the desertification of landscapes and destruction of natural balance.

Since regenerative agriculture completely relies on natural processes, it is inherently anticapitalist

Since regenerative agriculture completely relies on natural processes, it is inherently anticapitalist. It doesn’t depend on patented seeds, fossil fuels or heavy machinery to work the land. It can’t be monopolised.
One of the arguments that is often raised against this way of farming is skepticism about it being productive enough to feed the world. Yet, there is enough proof that permaculture farming is at least as yielding as conventional agriculture, if not more. The question of efficiency is raised mainly from a place of profit. Monoculture farming is profitable for the individual farmer or landowner. Regenerative farming must be profitable for everyone involved. It might, in the short term, be more labor intensive. More hands are needed since automatisation is not an option due to diverse and irregular farming landscapes. But once established, it can become a self-perpetuating system. One of the three main goals of permaculture is fair shares, next to human care and earth care. This way of farming cannot be seen as an individualist enterprise but a collective effort.
Another argument in favour of regenerative farming is the health aspect for humans and nature. Not only do we humans profit from healthy ecosystems and environments, but the food produced this way also proves to be of superior quality. It is less affected by pesticides (even though those find their way into every landscape nowadays through polluted water and air) and also more nutritious with fibres and micronutrients derived from healthy soil.

Examples of regenerative agriculture in action
Let's focus on a few examples of people co-creating with the land instead of ruling over it.
One example is the Zapatista army of national liberation, a rebel group that can be described as leftist and/or anarchist. Without directly identifying with those labels, the Zapatistas have held parts of the Chiapas region in Mexico since the 1990s. They use ancient strategies of what we in the global North know as “regenerative farming” practices to sustain their communities. The Zapatista case clearly demonstrates the close relationship between landownership and sovereignty for people of any descent, but especially people under oppression.

Generally, it can be said that depriving people of access to land is equal to depriving people of their right to exist self-sufficiently, under their own free choice and conditions, and therefore robs people of their integrity.
It is no coincidence that a minority's struggle of (re)claiming land often goes along with a farming practice, with land stewardship, caring and taking responsibility for animals, plant life and the ecological wellness of the land.
One very good example of this is the concept of “the commons”, which have existed as long as humans have co-inhabited and farmed land. The commons theory offers an alternative to a centralised and market-oriented land economy. Instead, it leaves the land, or any resource for that matter, be it intellectual or physical, to be governed by those who inhabit and maintain it. By relying on a shared sense of responsibility through the collective participation of community members, it sets itself apart from the conventional concept of  private ownership.
Today, there are countless examples of grassroots organisations that are part of the commons movement, many of them based on the Community Land Trust (CLT) model. The CLT is designed around the idea of combining community ownership of land with private ownership of buildings or farming lots, in a non-profit way.
Some of these organisations also focus on collective ownership of land for natural reservation, regeneration and reforestation, completely detached from any expectation of outcome other than making land unavailable for “development”. Considering that more than half of Europe's forests have been lost in the last 6000 years due to demand for agricultural land and wood as a resource, reforestation is urgently needed to restore balance.
Next to that, the concept of permaculture has become increasingly popular in Europe. Regenerative farming practices have caught on to activist groups and people engaging politically with concepts of land ownership and stewardship.
A public figure that has helped to bring the topics of soil health and social justice to the foreground is Dr. Vandana Shiva. Since the 1980s, she has advocated for small-scale traditional farming in India, specifically against GMOs (genetically modified organisms) and for seed sovereignty. She has also made immense contributions to the philosophy of ecofeminism.

After Monsanto introduced GMOs to the Indian farming market in the 1980s, suicide rates amongst Indian farmers skyrocketed

When engaging with Shivas’ work, the links between non-invasive farming and social change become very apparent. After Monsanto introduced GMOs to the Indian farming market in the 1980s, suicide rates amongst Indian farmers skyrocketed. Shiva led a movement to create seeds banks, which offered a real alternative and a much-needed reboot, and mobilised small farmers from across the country to demonstrate against Monsanto's seed monopoly. They were successful in eventually banning GMOs altogether in 2010. The movement fought against the impacts of the “green revolution”, which was sold by the USA as the end to world hunger, yet only benefitted private seed and patent companies by promoting the use of heavy machinery, chemical fertilisers and insecticides, whilst bringing harm and dependency to small farmers, the ones who actually grow the food for the world. According to Shiva, 70% of the food consumed globally is still grown by small-scale farmers today.
Thankfully there are hopeful voices like hers. They are not delusional, but rather eager to continue making a change for the better. Many people are now starting to understand the connection between social injustice, climate crisis, ecological genocide and the capitalist system.
In the following chapter on collectively owned farmland, we will introduce a few projects here in the Netherlands that are building alternatives to large-scale, commercial, privatised monoculture farming and land ownership. I personally want to point out that, since ecological and social ailments in our culture are interconnected, true change needs to take them all into account equally. A true alternative must be one that is organised horizontally, not top-down, not geared towards profit, but towards ensuring collective ownership of land resources, encouraging and nourishing community, and honouring all life.