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Julia Jones Head of Insight NZX Limited

New Zealand Food and Fibre is a platform for multiple stories

Everywhere you go you will be hearing “New Zealand Agriculture needs to get better at telling its story”. Cue eye roll and sigh. At times it feels frustrating. We feel like we are telling our story and it feels like no one is listening. I can assure you they are listening, and they want more.

What we need to get our head around is that it’s not about one story or one process, or one way of doing things. “Telling our story” kind of implies there is only one story, and that all stories should be the same. We saw this play out with the bizarre uproar over the Hawea Station Country Calendar episode. Telling a different story and doing things differently was seen by some as letting the team down; “Everyone will think that’s how we farm or should farm in the future”. Ironically, the reactions that were overly aggressive told their own story, and it wasn’t a favourable one.

The Food and Fibre (F&F), agriculture, and farming sector is made up of humans. By default humans are all different. We are complex creatures made up of unique values and beliefs.

More than ever it is time to embrace and connect different perspectives, and avoid the temptation to average perspectives to get a consensus. Driving for a consensus is not democracy. We should be driving for different perspectives through critical thinking. Because of this F&F should be seen as a platform for multiple stories that honour the differences across the sector. We have so much to celebrate.

WILL MULTIPLE STORIES CONFUSE THE CONSUMER?

Consumers are also humans, so they will all have different values and beliefs. Given that there are billions of consumers, and we only target a small sliver, there are loads of opportunities to deliver a difference. It’s important we don’t average out the consumers’ needs or assume they are all like us. Just as we all have different values and beliefs, so will they. What they will connect with most of all is values that are meaningful to them. So, we won’t confuse consumers with different stories, we will each simply connect better with those that naturally relate to the values or beliefs of our story. This can even come down to the media, and the style in which the story is told. Some will like the story of why, and others will want to know all the details.

IS ALL THEY REALLY CARE ABOUT THE PRICE?

Everyone has a price point that turns them towards or away from a product, no matter how much we believe in it or like it. This will be mainly defined by personal financial circumstances. The price will play a part in the consumer’s decision, but it’s often further down the hierarchy than we think.

Often our decisions are partially made subconsciously. Our brain then tries to rationalise the decision and backfills the reasoning. This subconscious part of decisionmaking will be driven by values and beliefs, so it will come from a feeling of connection you have with a story, method, or product.

If we have knowledge or understanding of the topic this is also likely to influence our decision-making. As producers you are probably very familiar with your products, and intimately know the production process. You need to be careful to avoid assuming the consumer knows more than they do. You can’t expect them to walk in your shoes.

The common disconnection from how food is produced means there is a lack of understanding by many consumers. Scarily, they often get ‘information’ from social media, general media, and randomly seen bits of information.

SEEK FIRST TO UNDERSTAND THEN BE UNDERSTOOD

As a sector we are great at sharing stories with each other. However, my observations are that we continue to stumble at the empathy hurdle.

When it comes to understanding others that we may not fully relate to or totally agree with, we struggle to stop, listen, and understand. I acknowledge that farmers feel attacked, but as much as it might feel like it some days, the world isn’t out to get you.

If we want to be understood, we need to learn how to understand others that might not be the same as us. Firstly, if we take the time to understand others, we will be better at communicating with them. Secondly, it supports our mind’s growth and critical thinking.

Now, before you worry, understanding isn’t about agreeing. You can understand, empathise, and still completely disagree with someone. However, the process of seeking understanding can be powerful, and can support a more constructive response. A good disagreement should motivate curiosity, not shut it down.

NOT EVERYONE WILL LIKE YOU OR WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU

Fighting at the extremes or aiming to convert the non-believers is a waste of energy. Regarding those who don’t understand but are looking to understand, the undecided is where the magic really happens. This is where our energy is best spent and where we will have the most impact in ensuring our truth is delivered. There will always be activists. To be honest, New Zealand doesn’t have many compared to other countries. Activists are kind of useful; they will never provide a good solution, but from time to time they will shine a light on a needed change in focus.

Debates on the fringes often hinge on the belief that the best outcome is to convince everyone there is only one possible perspective or solution, that one party is right and another is wrong, and that shades of grey are only what happen to our hair as we age. Not everyone will love what you have to say. Not everyone will relate and agree. That is all the more reason to have multiple stories and showcase multiple methods of farming.

Be cautious of falling into the ‘unappreciated teenage condition’. This is where thinking becomes irrational; we metaphorically slam doors, yell loudly, and assume no one understands us and that others only disagree because they just don’t like us. Ultimately, this can lead to; communicating only with those that tell us what we want to hear, avoiding being challenged, believing it is everyone else that has the problem, and relinquishing responsibility.

At the end of the day, we need to accept that some people will never agree with us or like what we do, and that is their prerogative. Let it go.

YOU DO YOU, AND LET OTHERS BE THEMSELVES

We care for our animals, our people, and our environment. We all have a common purpose. It’s okay that we might go about achieving that differently. Someone doing something different isn’t an insult to you. We are all different. As humans we will not relate to everyone, so it’s ok to not relate to someone. What isn’t ok is to start a disagreement rampage. If they are not hurting the land, animals, or humans, and you aren’t lending them money or giving them land, how is it your business?

If they are doing things that are not right then follow the process to report them. If they are just doing things differently than you can’t relate to, let it go.

Be conscious of the sector contradictions. They don’t work in our favour and it’s hard to win over the majority vote when we don’t make sense.

It’s ok to have different views and perspectives, but let’s try to avoid blatant contradictions. For example, we want people to join the sector from outside of the agricultural sector, but when they do things differently, we sometimes criticise them. We want to be understood but we won’t take the time to understand others. We get upset when people comment on farming with no knowledge of farming, but we will happily speak as though we’re an expert on a topic we know nothing about. We can’t talk our way out of situations we behave our way into, so behave with respect.

There is a raft of uncertainty ahead of us. It’s ok to show a level of vulnerability about this but we need to grow our ability to respond to what we CAN’T predict; to ensure we continue to develop our resilience and continue to use our sector as a powerful platform for evolution. From that will come multiple stories, a celebration of what we have achieved, and motivation for the many achievements that are ahead.

Kelly Cooper Research Agronomist North Dakota State University

From a drought-filled childhood to a career in irrigation

I live in southeastern North Dakota (ND), right in the middle of North America. Our mid continental location dictates our weather, which tends to be extreme. Only Siberia experiences greater changes in temperature.

My family has been in the area since 1865, as my great grandfather was a scout in the cavalry. I was born in 1958, and the lack of rain seemed to be perpetual as I grew up. Occasionally we would get a winter with a large amount of snowfall, such as the winter of 1968–69. There was water all over in the following spring. By July, we were dry again with no standing water. My father always told me it could get wet. He talked about not being able to pull the hayrack up from the southwest quarter. But outside of the one year in the spring of ‘69, I knew only of begging for rain.

Irrigation first became seriously talked about in our region in 1944. This was because the Pick-Sloan project was authorised by Congress. This was a big plan, including dams, power generation, recreation, and irrigation for millions of acres. The dream for us was to receive irrigation water from the Missouri River, which runs through North Dakota. The Missouri River is large, and the potential of bringing water to large areas of North Dakota, including our farm, led my father to become involved in the planning process by being on the board of directors of the local oversight group. The project became bogged down with bureaucracy, unfortunately, and Missouri water has never made it to the eastern part of the state where I live. There has been some success with the program and the battle is ongoing.

Irrigation continued in our area. In 1975 a young couple moved into our area, buying three quarters of land, which is 480 acres. Tom and Kathy Heimbuch were the first people to install large field scale irrigation in our neighbourhood. This was a big deal, to say the least! I was very excited to learn we had sufficient quantity and suitable quality of groundwater to irrigate with. As a 17-yearold I was fascinated to see a whole quarter section of land irrigated. No more praying that a rare darkening cloud would come over and leave a half-inch of rain on our typically parched pasture and limited crop ground. My mother and father, adults in the dust bowl days of the 1930s, told me stories of blowing sand, no rain, nothing green, starving cattle, wells going dry, and banks closing. None of this really sunk in until I became an adult, and I realised just how fortunate I was. The electricity, health care, good roads, education, central heating, and air conditioning that we demand and take for granted, they did not have or even dream of having.

Times change. I quickly became acquainted with our new irrigation neighbours. I worked part time for the Heimbuch’s in my first year out of high school. Tom had a master’s degree in soil science. He had done the field work for his degree at the local irrigation research site near Oakes, ND, just 20 miles from our farm. Tom was more than happy to share his enthusiasm and knowledge. After a month of working for him I was enrolled at North Dakota State University, majoring in soils, starting in the fall of 1976. Tom was an innovator. He started growing corn, but then progressed into more specialised crops such as dry beans, potatoes, and onions. This was possible because of irrigation. After getting my degree in soils, my wife Sharon and I came back home and started a soil testing lab and sampling business. Tom was, of course, a good customer and soon I became involved in monitoring the potatoes and onions,which involved checking for disease and insects, scheduling irrigation, and testing tissue nitrogen. In the late 1980s rain was especially scarce in the region and the major potato processors in the region moved from dryland production to irrigated. Oakes, ND is a focal point of irrigation, with sandy soils and prevalent groundwater, so naturally the dryland potato growers made alliances with irrigation farmers around Oakes. I found myself very busy. I had the pleasure to meet and work with a very dynamic group of individuals. None was more dynamic than Durant Schiermeister. Durant had the enthusiasm and will of a charging bull moose. Durant and his wife Sharon owned a farm on the banks of the Missouri River south of Bismarck, a long drive away. I was ‘encouraged’ into working with Durant by one of the plant pathologists I heavily relied on. The pathologist said Durant was calling him so often that he couldn’t get anything done and that if I didn’t take Durant on as a customer, I wouldn’t get any more info. It turned out to be a very fun and enjoyable experience. Sharon and I made Durant’s potatoes our summer weekend project. His farm used mostly river water, a new experience for me, and I quickly found out river water is not all that easy. The fluctuating water levels, debris in the water, and access are all obstacles we don’t have with wells. We checked his fields on Saturdays and enjoyed a night out on the town, giving our wives some social life.

When 1993 came it was like a switch was flipped. A switch that turned on the rain. Is it climate change? Sunspots? Secret govern-