Jamie Oliver Should Be Presenting Friday Night Farming Facts – Not Feasting On Foodie Fiction

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Commercial dairy cows in Cumbria – should they be “retired” before slaughter?

Good grief. Just when I think I’ve heard it all, another food pundit comes up with an idea so daft that you could bottle it and sell it as vegan, gluten-free, dairy-free, humanely-reared organic water. The latest brainwave from Jamie Oliver is to “retire” old dairy cows onto pasture, where they can graze for four years before producing highly-marbled beef. Contrary to most of the breed-related marketing, Holstein beef is pretty good, so it’s a mouth-watering concept until we take a step back and think about the actual sustainability impacts.

Producing beef from cull dairy cattle? Excellent idea. I once had a heated argument with an activist protestor outside the Smithsonian Museum in Washington DC who seemed surprised that, when he told me that most cull dairy cows end up as burgers, I didn’t renounce my heathen ways and immediately seek out the nearest tofu burrito. It makes perfect sense – where would be the logic in discarding an entire cow’s worth (~301 kg) of nutritious, delicious beef simply to bury, burn or use the meat for non-food purposes? Indeed, ~50% of the UK (and ~24% of the US) beef supply comes either from cull dairy cows or dairy calves reared for beef.

Is there an argument for giving extra feed to cows that are going to be culled so that they get a little fatter and produce tastier beef? Yes indeed, adding value to cull dairy cows is a great idea, especially when the beef price is high. But here’s the rub. The average dairy cow in the U.K. is culled at 6.4 years of age. By that time she should have reached her mature weight, which means that the majority of extra weight she puts on in “retirement” is fat. Although we love the streaks of intramuscular fat that we see in a steak (marbling) and enjoy the depth of flavour that gives to the meat, the vast majority of fat on a carcass isn’t particularly edible. So we’re feeding a cow for four years of retirement in order to discard (or rather render into tallow – perhaps to make some £5 notes?) a significant proportion of the weight that she gains.

A cow will eat 2-2.5% of her body weight in dry matter every single day. Four years of feeding a 700 kg cow = 4 x 365 days x 700 kg x 0.025 = 25,550 kg of feed dry matter, or 106,458 kg of fresh grass given that it’s only ~24% dry matter. Plus 4-years worth of drinking water, manure and greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions. A hefty environmental impact compared, for example, to rearing two beef steers on the same amount of pasture over a 4-year period, in addition to culling the dairy cow when she leaves the herd (sans retirement). That scenario would provide 200% more beef (~900 kg total, even allowing for the lighter weight for grass-finished vs. grain-fed steers) from the same amount of pasture and with a smaller total quantity of manure and GHG emissions because the growing animals are lighter in weight throughout, therefore excrete and emit less*.

I can’t decide whether the increasingly asinine proposals for sustainable food production propounded by Jamie Oliver’s “Friday Night Feast” programme, which recently left the casual viewer with the impression that welfare of housed dairy cows is equivalent to that of battery hens are serious, or simply a way to court fame through controversy. However, the number of tweets lauding the programme’s food philosophy is alarming given the amount of time devoted to non-sustainable ideology. Time for TV programmers to redress the balance with some Friday Night Facts vs. Fiction?

*Note that I have not accounted for the beef cows needed to produce the steers, nor for the cost of rearing the dairy cow or the heifer needed to replace her in dairy herd. This is not a full system assessment, but simply about the best use of a unit of pasture area – adding fat to a mature cow (less efficient) or adding muscle and fat to growing animals (more efficient)

Low Meat, Faux Meat or No Meat – Should Retailers Really Reward Us for Buying Vegetarian Foods?

All food have an environmental impact

There’s no doubt that eating more fruit and vegetables is a positive idea. Nationally we still don’t hit our 5-per-day and lifestyle diseases are major causes of premature death. However, as Sainsbury’s redesigns aisles to try and convince shoppers to swap meat for vegetables and plans to issue extra loyalty points to customers choosing vegetarian foods, are we in danger of applying myopic solutions to a seriously complex issue?

Most people in developed countries eat more than the recommended 70 g of meat per day. If (and this is debatable) the researchers who claim that meat consumption is linked to lifestyle disease are correct, then reducing the amount that we eat may be a positive step. However, much of the justification for cutting meat consumption appears to be on the basis of reducing environmental impacts.

So how do we ensure that we eat a diet with a low carbon footprint? It’s very simple. Drewnowski et al. (2015) showed that grains, syrups and sugars had the lowest carbon emissions per kg of food – considerably lower than meat and dairy products. So we simply reduce the proportion of meat and increase the quantity of sugar that we eat each day. Just replace meat products with Mars bars and golden syrup and we’ll save the planet, albeit in conjunction with a spike in type II diabetes and a significant protein deficit.

If Sainsbury’s is determined to reward consumers for making healthier choices, why not do so based on the proportion of fruit, vegetables, lean protein and dairy purchased vs. cakes, biscuits and crisps; rather than giving extra loyalty points for vegetarian products? After all, a snickers bar or a packet of oven chips are both vegetarian, but meat-free foods are not inherently healthy choices. Furthermore, where do fish and dairy fit into the new regime? Given the low nutritional value of soy and oat juices per unit of greenhouse gas emissions compared to dairy, the potential for child malnourishment is considerable if plant-based foods are mis-sold as being nutritionally-equivalent to animal products.

Bipolar “A is bad, B is good” panaceas do nothing to improve consumer knowledge of food production or environmental impacts. Strawberries may have a lower carbon footprint than beef, but cannot be grown on a rocky slope in Scotland. Pork may have a relatively high water footprint, but almonds use even more. Lettuce is a great source of fibre, but provides very little additional nutrients per kg compared to meat. In my experience as an ex-vegan, the majority of vegan restaurant dishes are largely reliant on pasta or rice to bulk out the vegetables. Is this really a healthier choice than lean meat and vegetables? Given that many young people have little or no interest in cooking, is the presence of spiralised courgettes or cauliflower rice at the end of the aisle going to engender a sudden interest in all things gastronomic?

Most people’s diets are led (to a greater or lesser extent) by the foods available in the local supermarket, therefore retailers have huge opportunities to educate, encourage and improve our food choices. It’s not clear why Sainsbury’s would choose to launch this initiative, but it appears to be a box-ticking exercise, designed to address a single minor issue while ignoring the bigger problem.

Big, Small, Local, Artisan… Why We Need to Kick the Food and Farming Label Habit

coffe-water-and-brownieLet’s think about marketing labels. The coffee I’m currently drinking is a new premium blend with fruity notes and hints of lemongrass, the tasting notes so extensive that I was tempted to swill it around and pretend it was a glass of vintage Malbec before the first sip (except I knew I’d end up with a caffeinated tsunami flooding my Mac). The walls of this coffee shop are plastered with buzzwords including “delicious”, “lovers” and  “changing lives”. Everything is carefully stage-managed to make me feel that I’ve wisely invested my £2.50 on a cup of branded coffee. Is this coffee more caffeine-laden than the equivalent free-cup-with-a-loyalty-card from Waitrose? Can I detect the top notes of passion fruit? Does it use less water than freeze-dried instant coffee? Will I leap tall buildings with a single bound after drinking it? Absolutely not. Yet the marketing involved makes me feel good about my choice of coffee chain and beverage, without providing any factual information to facilitate my decision.

Like it or not, marketing labels are ubiquitous, exclusive and bipolar. Black and white. Yes or no. Good or bad. Even in the scientific world, where we’re renowned for caveats and “Under this specific set of conditions we saw a significant difference in X although that can’t always extrapolate to Y….” answers to questions, media coverage of scientific research is becoming binomial. Food X will kill you. Eat food Y and you won’t get cancer. Shades of grey have ceased to exist.

Back in September 2016, Jayson Lusk published an excellent piece in the NY Times explaining the importance of technology use on modern, large-scale farms. The only issue (for me) was the title: “Why Industrial Farms Are Good for the Environment”. The supposition being, of course, that we have to dispel the myth that “industrial” farms are environmentally-undesirable. Yet using terms like “industrial” have deeper connotations – if a large farm is industrial, is a small farm artisan? If a dairy herd containing 100 cows is a “factory farm” (regardless of familial ownership or management), is the one that contains 99 cows a small, vibrant, local business? Is a farmer who is passionate about pasture management, reducing nutrient run-off and promoting biodiversity a saviour of the planet, regardless of whether he/she produces enough beef to feed one family or 5,000 families (approximately 1,700 cow herd) per year? There are as many farming systems worldwide as there are farmers – trying to apply broad categories (“big vs. small” “factory vs. humane” “grass-fed vs. grain-fed”) tells us absolutely nothing about the management practices, animal welfare, environmental sustainability and social responsibility of a particular farm.

Perhaps it’s time to take a evidence-based approach. The consumer absolutely has a right to choose products from agricultural systems that they prefer, yet this needs to be provided via factual, quantifiable information rather than marketing buzzwords. Being told that a piece of pork pie is “artisan” or that Supermarket X’s beef mince costs 20 p/kg less does not facilitate informed decision-making.

If we assume that all other factors (including price) relating to food purchase are equal:

  • Eggs from Farm X are ranked 9.5/10 on supporting the local community
  • Eggs from Farm Y have an animal welfare rating 10% higher than average
  • Eggs from Farm Z eggs have a carbon footprint 25% lower than average

I wonder how many consumers choosing eggs based on measurable performance outcomes would be supporting a different production system than the one that they perceive to be best? We (as an agricultural industry as well as in the role that we all play as consumers) need factual information on labels rather than marketing buzzwords.

We would also have a better understanding of the issues that really are important to the consumer. I was recently asked whether I was concerned about antibiotic use in livestock. The obvious answer was “Yes”… yet my main concern was the challenge of eliminating the use of medically-important antibiotics (while maintaining access to veterinary antibiotics that have no impact on human medicine), reducing antimicrobial resistance and improving the health and welfare of global livestock populations through alternative technologies and management practices. Not surprisingly, my answer didn’t fit with the assumed “I’m concerned because everybody knows that farmers massively overuse antibiotics as a panacea for poor management” rationale.

Recent data from a global charity suggests that almost 90% of Indian consumers are deeply concerned about cattle health and welfare on dairy farms. Great. Does this mean they’d pay more for milk to improve dairy cow welfare? That they were given factual information about dairy production? That they understand the relative environmental impacts, cattle health issues and social impacts of various dairy systems? All unlikely. We face a number of challenges within agriculture – notably the need to produce enough safe, affordable food to feed the growing population, whilst using fewer resources and with a lower environmental impact. We cannot and should not expect to make informed decisions on food choices based on marketing buzzwords – it’s time to stop differentiating on farm size or system and examine real farm impacts.

Having Your Beef and Spending It? Don’t Let Moral Indignation Overcome Common Sense.

My Twitter feed has lit up like a firework this week with the news that cows are being murdered to produce the new plastic British £5 notes. Or, to correct the sensationalism with science, the notes contain a trace of tallow in the polymer that’s used to make them. Tallow is a by-product of beef production – it’s effectively the fat on the animal that we don’t want to eat, and has been used for centuries in a myriad of products.

Let’s be very clear here. No cows are being slaughtered (murdered!) to make £5 notes. Cattle are either slaughtered for meat or euthanised due to illness – there are no Bank of England-sanctioned posses stringing up helpless cattle as a license to print money (literally). Fortunately, we are able to use the portion of the animal’s carcass that we can’t (or won’t) eat to manufacture products that would otherwise rely on synthetic chemicals.

Not surprisingly, the majority of the outcry has come from vegetarians and vegans. While I will defend the right of anybody to choose what they eat or wear (note that I am not criticising or denouncing anybody’s religious beliefs here), the current protests seem to be slanted towards choosing to be offended by a minor point, rather than any semblance of logic.

According to a rather nifty (yet accurate) calculation by the guys at Vice, it would take 23 kg of tallow to make all the new £5 notes that will be in circulation by the time the old ones are phased out. The total tallow yield per animal is ~40 kg, so it would take just over half of one animal (23/40 = 0.58) to produce all the tallow for the UK’s total £5 note requirements.

5-noteMany of those who are protesting are vegetarian (as opposed to vegan), thus still consume milk, eggs, honey and other non-meat animal products. Given that 20% or more of the cattle slaughtered in the UK are adult cows and bulls (i.e. they have reached the end of their productive life in the dairy or beef herd rather than being specifically reared for meat), it makes sense to utilise whatever components of their carcasses are suitable for industrial purposes rather than diverting them into landfill or incinerators. If dairy consumption is acceptable to vegetarians, can it really be claimed that bank notes containing a fraction of the spent dairy cow’s carcass as tallow are not?

by-products-from-animal-agAs I have mentioned in previous blog posts, myriad everyday products contain by-products from cattle. Given the current outcry, once can only assume that those who shun the new £5 notes also refuse to travel in cars, buses or on bicycles (as (t(as tyres contain stearic acid, again from tallow); do not drink from bone china mugs; or disavow beer filtered through isinglass. Or, as with so many other issues, is it an opportunity for a small minority to protest and promote their personal dietary choices behind the guise of population-wide offence?

The online petition against the new £5 notes currently has >129,000 signatures. Obviously we all have the right to protest against issues that alarm, anger or offend us, and social media gives those opinions far greater weight than we had in the past. Yet is this really an issue that is more important (as judged by media coverage) than 11-year-old girls being forced into marriage? Or livestock being slaughtered without first being stunned? Or asylum seekers being refused entry? Perhaps in this case, the moral minority need to examine the bigger picture, and consider the issues that really matter.

 

 

 

Cows, Cows, Everywhere, and Not a Steak to Eat. What Happens if We All Become Vegan?

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Hereford calf – innocent victim of our murderous lust for meat?

I have previously blogged about the potential impact of us all becoming vegan with reference to the U.S. beef and dairy industries, but given the recent haranguing of several Twitter friends (and myself) by some very passionate vegans, I thought it was worth updating the post for the UK livestock industry.

Let me make it very clear – I am totally happy for anybody to choose whichever diet they prefer: omnivore, vegetarian, vegan, flexitarian etc. No problem. I have to admit I find it interesting when people claim that they are vegetarian but that they occasionally eat meat (5% of Australians consider themselves as vegetarian but only 2% eat a meat-free diet!), but it’s great that we are able to choose from a wide variety of diets and foods. However, I get really irritated when people suggest (or insist) that I shouldn’t eat meat or fish because they believe that it’s morally wrong. Food has almost become a modern faith issue – the same intensity and fervour of 19th century missionaries trying to convert “heathens” is applied by the more activist vegetarians and vegans.

Meat-free Australia

Interestingly, every single vegan I have conversed with on Twitter appears to believe that cattle only reproduce because they are forced to by the farmer. Accusations such as the one in the tweet below are common – because artificial insemination is regularly used within the dairy industry (although a significant proportion of dairy farmers also use bulls for natural service), cows are seen to be “forced” to breed, or even “raped”.

Angry vegan

So, if we as a vegan population did not eat milk, meat or eggs and did not “enslave” or control cattle, but instead turned them out to live a natural life, would they cease to breed? It’s a nice idea, but, it’s false. If a bull has access to cows in heat, he’s going to pursue that cow, even if it means breaking into the next field. Cattle don’t breed like rabbits, but bulls are rather akin to hormonal teenagers when responsive cows are in close proximity.

Anti-animal agriculture activists often purport that a cow can live for 20+ years in her “natural” state compared to a farmed animal – so being a data nerd, I did the maths. Let’s assume that we turn all the dairy cows out tomorrow, and the following assumptions hold true: 1) cows first calve at two years of age and that 75% of cows have a calf every year*; 2) 85% of those calves survive (calf mortality would increase because we would not care for (exploit?) new-born calves); and 3) each cow or bull lives for 20 years. Admittedly that doesn’t account for the cattle that would be hit by cars, or die from starvation through lack of available grazing in 5, 10 or 20 years time, but being good vegans, we’d feed them, right?

If we all became vegan - UK


We currently have ~4.2 million dairy cattle (1.9 million dairy cows, plus calves, heifers and bulls) in the UK. Within five years we’d have 19.2 million cattle in the UK, within 20 years we’d have 285 million – a 68.6-fold increase on our current national herd. That’s 68.6x more cattle belching methane, drinking water and producing waste, every single day, all as a result of our changing our diet in a misguided attempt to reduce environmental impact.


It’s a nice, simplistic, oft-suggested argument that we shouldn’t eat meat or dairy products in order to save the planet, yet the conflict between veganism, animal welfare, and environmental impact is clear. Climate change will be solved by us turning vegan? Not unless we reconcile ourselves to killing animals without eating them.

*75% would be a low calving % on a beef or dairy farm, but let’s assume that natural service in the wild is less efficient 

If We Can Replace Antibiotics with Homeopathy, then Cheese is the New Miracle Cure!

IMG_1903 cropIn the Guardian this week, HRH Prince Charles proposed homeopathy as a solution to antibiotic resistance, citing his “agro-ecological” farm as an example of one that has cut antibiotic use by using homeopathic treatments.

Given the concern over bacterial resistance to medically-important antibiotics, it is vital that we find alternatives. Yet they also must have a biologically sound mode of action and be proven to be effective. It is difficult to conceive how a solution so dilute that not one molecule of active ingredient remains, where the premise of the mode of action depends on water having a “memory” of the ingredient (as opposed to all the other contaminants within that water), can possibly have any verifiable impact on disease. Indeed, there are no studies to date that show positive, replicable effects of homeopathy compared to conventional treatment.

Personally, I have no issue with any alternative therapy has been shown to be an effective alternative to conventional drugs (note that homeopathy does not fall into this category). When I underwent chemotherapy for breast cancer, I had some reiki sessions. Did I believe that energy was being channeled by the reiki healer and making me better? Honestly, no. Would I have ever considered giving up the chemotherapy? Absolutely not. But the focused breathing and relaxation certainly helped with pre-chemo anxiety. Would taking Rescue Remedy or a similar homeopathic preparation have helped? If I’d believed that it would – yes, probably. But that is biased by the placebo effect – it’s not the same as the treatment being independently effective. One of the claims made for using homeopathic treatments in animals is that they are independent of the placebo effect – they don’t have the expectation that the tincture administered is going to cure their lameness or mastitis. Yet when we assess the results, it’s not the animal who’s reporting the success or failure of the homeopathic treatment, it’s the farmer.

So let’s examine a scenario. A farmer has two mildly sick cows (e.g. slightly lame, or unwilling to eat with a raised temperature) within the herd. Both are moved to the hospital pen, given fresh bedding, water and feed plus a homeopathic remedy. Cow A gets better – hoorah for homeopathy!  Cow B doesn’t and has to be treated with antibiotics – boo! Does this mean homeopathy works in 50% of cases? No. There’s no control treatment here, no evidence that Cow A wouldn’t have got better without homeopathy – some diseases just need time, TLC and the cow’s own immune system for recovery. Did the farmer cut antibiotic use? Yes – Cow A didn’t receive it. Yet again there is no evidence that this is due to the homeopathic treatment. How many times have we as humans debated whether to go to the doctor because of a minor ailment, then have found that it’s cleared up without medical treatment? It’s not miraculous, it’s simply our immune systems functioning as they are intended to.

In the absence of controlled experiments that compare homeopathic treatments to both conventional antibiotics and no veterinary treatment (save for good animal husbandry), it is disingenuous to claim that homeopathy is successful in treating bacterial disease or can effectively be used to replace antibiotics. We need to look to veterinarians and scientists when making decisions about animal care and treatment rather than relying on anecdotal data from those with royal connections. After all, HRH Prince Charles may have reduced antibiotic use on his farm, but I can also claim to have reduced antibiotic use in my household through dairy consumption – my toddler has a serious cheese addiction and has never had to take antibiotics. Hoorah – cheese is the new homeopathy!!*

(*obviously I am being sarcastic here for those who missed it, though the extent of cheese consumption and fact that she’s never had antibiotics are both entirely true)

Cutting Meat? Or Just Cutting Corners?

DexterIt is equally interesting, inevitable and lamentable to see that another study has come out claiming that the only way to reduce climate change is to cut meat consumption per person.

Meat consumption appears to be the only human activity subject to continuous “we must cease/reduce this” claims on the basis of environmental impacts. If we compare to other greenhouse gas sources, a considerable proportion come from transportation. Yet rather than insisting that every car-owner cut their annual mileage by 25%, the focus has been on reducing emissions by producing more fuel-efficient vehicles. Similarly, no one has yet claimed that we should reduce household lighting by four hours per day, but the compact fluorescent lightbulb (CFL) has become the poster child for improving household energy efficiency.

We have demonstrable proof that beef and dairy producers have improved greenhouse gas emissions (as well as land use, water use, energy efficiency, etc) over time through improved efficiency, and can continue to do so into the future. So why are the gains made by livestock producers dismissed, and reduced meat intakes seen as the only solution? I have an absolute hatred of conspiracy theories, but it is difficult not to see an latent agenda in the preponderance of “Cut meat consumption” papers. Jumping on the bandwagon? Promoting individual dietary opinions as science? Or simply bowing to NGO/media opinions and looking for easy funding and publicity?

As the global population increases to over 9.5 billion people by 2050, with the majority of this growth occurring in the developing world, the demand for milk, meat and eggs is going to increase by 60%. If we are serious about cutting greenhouse gas emissions, it’s time to examine the impacts of all of our actions and concentrate on further efficiency improvements rather than constraining dietary choice.

Does Nature Really “Do Its Thing” on Organic Farms?

Fridge picI am lucky. My fridge is full of food: mostly produced in the UK or Europe; all nutritious, safe and affordable; and almost all produced on conventional farms, with a small amount of organic food (in my case, chocolate). Given that you’re reading this, I’ll hazard a guess that you are lucky too. 795 million other people can’t say the same thing – and feeding all the people on a planet where 1 in 9 don’t currently have enough food is, in my view, our biggest challenge.

The fact that we face this challenge makes me really irritated when celebrity chefs who could make a huge difference, bow instead to popular rhetoric. In his latest blog post, mockney chef and food pundit Jamie Oliver proclaims that “…organic food is natural food, where nature has been allowed to do its thing, and I’m sure most of us will agree that putting natural ingredients into our bodies is only going to be a positive thing.”

If we ignore the nonsensical claim that natural ingredients produce positive results (Really? Let’s examine puffer fish, solanaceae poisoning, dangerous fungi, absinthe, the many consequences of obesity…), let’s simply look at his claim that organic food is natural.  Except, well, it’s not. Agriculture first developed ~12,000 years ago, and ever since then farmers have been doing their best to breed crops and animals that are best suited to their farming system, whether it’s organic or conventional. Want dairy cows that produce high-quality milk from grazing pasture; leaner pork chops; or strawberries that can survive supermarket handling? You’ve got it. All achieved through traditional breeding techniques (otherwise known as “nature doing its thing”): noting that plant or animal A has desirable characteristics and breeding it with plant or animal B to (hopefully) produce better offspring. No scary chemicals, scientists with syringes or genes in test-tubes. Every farm in the world is founded on “nature doing its thing” – not just the organic farms. We can argue whether GMO crops are natural (breeding techniques are simply more refined and specific) or not (scientists playing god…) but that argument becomes redundant in the EU and many other regions, where GMO crops are not approved.

Can organic producers use pesticides? Yes, if they’re compounds approved for organic production (e.g. highly-toxic copper-based fungicides). Can they use antibiotics and wormers? Again yes, if a proven disease problem exists (note that rules differ slightly between the UK and USA). Are organic farmers just merrily sitting back and letting their crops cross-pollinate and reseed, and their bulls run around happily “doing their thing” to whichever cow they come across? No. It’s a beautiful bucolic image to suggest that organic farmers are happily working with Mother Nature whereas conventional farmers have an evil scientist sitting on one shoulder and a big agribusiness corporation on the other, but its simply not true.

According to Mr Oliver, “…the simple fact is that often we don’t actually have to interfere with nature.” The idea of a world where we could feed over 7 billion people without having to actually invest any research dollars into improving food production is lovely, but it’s smoke and mirrors. At the most basic level, what happens if we don’t “interfere” by controlling weeds (whether by chemicals, mechanical tillage or human labour)? Crop yields are reduced, food production goes down and we feed and clothe fewer people. What happens if a cow has problems giving birth? In nature, she dies. On a farm (whether organic or conventional) both she and the calf are saved, providing milk and meat for us to eat. According to the World Organisation for Animal Health, 20% of global animal protein losses are due to diseases for which treatments already exist – we simply need to make them available to every farmer worldwide. Just think how many more people we could feed if we interfered with nature in that way?

Huge amounts of research monies are invested each year to find ways to improve food production on both organic and conventional farms worldwide. Some are highly technical, others are simple, but all are contributing to the goal of feeding the world. Unfortunately, when food pundits jump on the “let’s promote system X” bandwagon as Mr Oliver has done with organic production, using persuasive but false arguments, we lose traction in fulfilling the real goal. Rather than arguing about which foods we can/should be buying, we need to accept that there’s a place for all systems; examine the ways in which all systems can improve soil fertility, animal health and environmental impacts; and make faster progress towards feeding the world while still enjoying our food choices.

Does Size Matter? Dairy Efficiency Becoming Paramount During Crisis

Media articles relating to agriculture appear to fall into two groups. Those relating to small-scale agriculture are glowing accounts of farmers wearing overalls and straw hats; lovingly taking care of the land and animals according to holistic principles; and selling their produce at the local farmers’ market. By contrast, commentary upon large-scale agriculture invokes images of corporate-controlled factory farms with blatant disregard for animal welfare and local community issues; blithely pumping animal manure into water courses.

To consumers, the majority of whom do not understand agriculture, but have questions about how their food is produced, the choice (as presented by the media) is clear. Small farms must be better for the environment, the economy and the local community. According to the Food and Agriculture Organisation of the United Nations (FAO), we need to sustainably intensify food production over the coming years in order to feed the increasing global population. For many however, the concept of intensification and high-efficiency production systems appears to be contrary to the holistic, small-farm philosophy.

Small cows dominateI will be presenting at the “World Congress on Controversies and Consensus in Bovine Health, Industry & Economics” in Berlin later this week, and have been asked to debate the question “Are hyper-intensive, mega farms more efficient?” If we examine the science, the results are unequivocal.

To use the U.S. dairy industry as an example: over three-quarters (76.7%) of dairy farms have small herds (less than 100 cows) and only 4.2% are large, with more than 500 cows in the herd. Yet the contribution to total milk supply is disproportionate – those 76.7% of herds containing <100 cows produce only 13.7% of U.S. milk, whereas the 4.2% of farms with >500 cows produce 63.0% of U.S. milk. A 17% Large cows dominateincrease in milk yield per cow is exhibited in large herds compared to small herds – does this mean that so-called mega farms are more efficient? Yes. They have a higher output of milk per unit of input. Data from the FAO also shows that as milk yield increases, the carbon footprint (and other resource use impacts) per unit of dairy is reduced.

Yield per cow and herd size (metric)Does this mean that large herds are better? Not necessarily. There’s no measure of animal health, worker conditions, or community support in these data. Yet these issues are size-independent. It’s possible to have poor animal health or worker conditions on a small farm, just as it is on a large farm. I’ve seen some great small operations, but also visited amazing large farms, including a 1,200 cow dairy in SE England where I was extremely impressed to see that they had a hospital pen to segregate sick cows from the rest of the herd, and that it only contained 12 cows. A 1% morbidity rate. How would that compare to the average human workplace, school or city?

Size isn't importantIs there an ideal farm or herd size? A blueprint to lead the global dairy industry during the current crisis? No. Dairy farms vary considerably – it would be foolish to suggest that there is only one sustainable way to produce milk (although this approach is often taken by certain NGO groups). However, one thing is clear. As we approach a global population of 9.5+ billion people in 2015, we need to stop vilifying large farms and worshipping small farms, and instead promote efficient, well-managed, productive farms that can survive the crisis, regardless of size. As the saying goes – it’s not size that matters, it’s what you do with it that counts.

I Can’t Brie-lieve It’s Nut Cheese

Plastic food, anybody?

Plastic food, anybody?

Am I missing something, or have words ceased to have any meaning? Take the phrase “nut cheese”. Seriously. Now stop giggling like a 12-year old and actually think about it. Would you buy some nut cheese for your grilled cheese sandwich? Fancy some nut cheese on your pizza? Actually, purely from a practical point of view, no, you wouldn’t. Nut cheeses don’t really melt, they are better for spreading on crackers. But, leaving the double entendres  aside, why would we give Edam (sorry…) about nut cheese? Apparently it’s a product that’s made exactly like cheese, if you ignore the fact that (dairy)* milk doesn’t have to be ground with water to separate the solids before the cheesemaking begins. Oh, and the fact that nut cheese made from nuts. Which means that despite the name, it’s not actually cheese.

Why does the concept of nut “cheese” irritate me so? It’s not paranoia that everybody will become so enamoured by nut cheese that the dairy industry will cease to exist (could a non-melting, spreading cheese really compete with a hefty chunk of Wensleydale?); or the suspicion that it’s a dastardly plot to infiltrate nut cheese into our children’s diets and tempt them away from the wonderful world of extra strong Cheddar and ashed-rind goats cheese. It’s simply because it’s yet another fake food. Believe me, I get equally irritated by soy “milk”; orange-colored soft drinks masquerading as “juice” (ahem, Sunny-D); and burgers made of mashed tofu. Why? Because I don’t see the point of plastic fantastic meals. Yes, I’ve eaten vegan cheese, vegetarian sausages and tofu roasts. I ate them when I was vegan** and I felt hypocritical for doing so even then. No, they didn’t taste better than the “real” thing (although one soy ice-cream was amazingly good). No, I couldn’t believe I was tucking into a juicy hot dog when I was simply chewing on something with all the taste and texture of reconstituted shoe leather. No, they didn’t compensate for my brothers gleefully eating bacon sandwiches. They simply seemed like a poor imitation of the diet that I had previously enjoyed as an omnivore.

When I was vegan I loved vegetables, and I still do now as a happy omnivore. I may lose my beef-loving credentials for admitting this, but after presenting a webinar on beef sustainability yesterday, I prepared and ate an entirely vegan meal. Admittedly I didn’t notice that it was vegan until I was chatting with @MomattheMeatCounter afterwards, but more tellingly, I didn’t miss the meat. I love vegetables because they are fabulously diverse. They have a myriad of flavours and textures that no other foods can provide. I could happily eat that same vegan meal two or three times per week. Yet vegetables aren’t meat or dairy, they don’t provide the same flavours and nutrients, and I couldn’t go back to being vegan. Aside from anything else, I’d miss real bacon cheeseburgers.

Which brings me to my major issue with all faux meats and dairy products. If you’re determined to give up animal proteins for ethical reasons, then why eat an ersatz version? Why not celebrate the fabulousness of fruit and vegetables and cook creative plant-based meals rather than eating a make-believe version of an animal-based food? Why are these faux foods often championed by people who otherwise derive their careers from bleating about “natural” foods and telling us that if a third-grader can’t pronounce it, we shouldn’t eat it? Why are millions being invested  in the promise of growing meat in labs or turning pea protein into faux eggs when we could simply eat peas instead?

Fake chocolateBelieve me, if I ever have the misfortune to become intolerant to gluten or dairy, I will be seeking real (and naturally gluten and dairy-free!) eggs at Easter rather than a faux chocolate egg with all the supposedly sinful ingredients removed***. Yet this treat was next to the regular chocolate eggs in the supermarket this weekend. A great thing for the small proportion of people who actually have dairy or gluten allergies, but also a clever Easter guilt-inducer to parents everywhere who are convinced that little Crispin and Arabella’s blood chemical levels will otherwise reach “toxic” limits akin to being given an intravenous infusion of the self-proclaimed Food Babe’s nemesis, Starbucks’ Pumpkin Spice Latte.

Nut cheese tweetMaybe I’m pedantic, overly irritable about the appropriation of words that are specific to certain foods. Perhaps my European roots run too deeply – after all, I come from a country that designates Stilton cheese as only being produced from milk from cows grazed in three specific counties. Yet it seems like a lazy excuse to suggest that if nut cheese isn’t called cheese it will languish uneaten in the supermarket for months because nobody will understand what it is. In a world where new words are invented every single day (please don’t get my Mother started on the validity of the word “webinar”) is it really conceivable to suggest that marketers can’t find an alternative to “cheese” or “milk” to describe plant-based foods? After all, nobody tries to call tofu “meat”…..yet. Perhaps that will be the next label on the faux food buffet table? I’m sorry, but I Camembert it.

*Even typing (dairy) as a modifier before milk raises my blood pressure a few points.
**I was a strict vegan for 12 months when I was 15. When I was 16 I resumed eating bacon as if pigs were going out of fashion. I still enjoy vegetarian or vegan meals, but I’ve never looked back.
***Yes, I have eaten milk-free milk chocolate – it could easily be used as a substitute for candle wax.