First a confession: Since I (a mere two posts down) began the paper chase of wondering why we work so much and buy so much stuff we dont need, I took a look in the mirror and noticed the bookshelf behind me. I have lots of books, I buy them and I hang on to them, almost compulsively. I love having them at hand so I can reread whenever I want, and I love lending them out to friends so we can talk about them afterwards. I haven't actually been in a public library in several years, so yesterday I walked across the street from my office to the central branch of the county library system...yes, I work a few yards from the second largest library in the area, and me, an avowed book junkie, had never been in it.
So I figured I would try to find a few items on my amazon list and maybe get a free fix. So I got myself a library card and checked out Permaculture:One and the One Straw Revolution. I only got a chance to start Permaculture: One, but I tore through One Straw Revolution with reckless abandon so onward we go.
Firstly, the translator notes that there are certain terms or phrases which will require footnoting as the work was originally written in Japanese. I would argue that the barrier to translation is not necessarily a matter of linguistics but of culture. Mr. Fukuoka cannot, nor should he try, to separate his Buddhist outlook on live with his explanation of what he calls natural farming. Certainly anyone interested in the state of the world could read this book and benefit, but there are most definitely areas where he puts his ideas into words that would be lost without some knowledge of Buddhist concepts.
Second it is important to bear in mind the setting of this book. Mr. Fukuoka is clearly a rebel in a culture of conformity. The turning point of his discovery of natural farming (and some might argue a buddhist enlightenment as well) centers in Japan just after WWII. As such there was significant pressure on Japan as a nation to westernize, perhaps even moreso than the late 1800's when Japan forcibly abandoned the traditional castes in favor of a mercantile culture. In the United States, the war had ended and industry was looking for an outlet to continue its frantic level of production. In agriculture this took shape as the so called Green Revolution, where farmers saw miraculous short term gains from using petroleum derived fertilizer, and herbicide and pesticide made in factories originally producing poison gas weapons. During the war Japan understood the need to maximize crop production from their limited land resources, and following the war as a de facto vassal of the US, felt industrial pressure to continue using chemical treatments of the land and crops.
Fukuoka was a botanist by training originally and encountered an existential crisis early in his career. While some might argue that his lashing out at industrial agriculture was part and parcel of a rejection of his previous life, I believe it goes deeper than this. What appears at the center of his ethos is the buddhist notion of no mind. That to truly see things as they are, (if we are capable of seeing them at all) we must first discard the lenses through which we see and judge. Science, as he encountered it was less concerned with true dedicated study, and more concerned with confirming notions which they found acceptable, believable or profitable.
Fukuoka continuously rails against accepted notions of what makes an effective agricultural program. He deals rather causticly with his fellow farmers who blindly accept whatever the local research boards profess to be the next great advance, locking them in a cycle of dependence and depletion.
It would be disingenuous to say that he rejects science, indeed he may actually have restored it. His methods are derived from careful observation of natural activities in nature, rather than in a lab. Built into this is the advice to anyone who chooses to adopt natural methods that there are a great number of variables. He does not write a perscription to be followed militantly but instead shows a path where the farmer can discover natural farming. To truly farm naturally one must stop concerning one's self with the mechanics of when to sow what, to apply what, and to truly feel the pulse of the land. Restore balance and work with rather than against nature. In order to appreciate the cycle of the seasons, the ebb and flow of certain crop growths, insect manifestations, etc. he posits the necessity of observing with clear eyes. We cannot let our egos get in the way of our discovery.
Fukuoka extends this buddhist notion of ego destruction to every aspect of life. Observing the music of the stream, and poetry born from the land, he has rejected material notions of maximizing profit and tells a story of a rather bad ordeal with a "natural foods" supplier he was previously selling to. Despite being thousands of miles away and decades ago, I'm sure this saga continues to play out across america today. Farming for commercial profit is detrimental to both the farm and the farmer, as well as society at large. In fact, as Fukuoka once again draws from his well of buddhist experience, the three are not really separate at all.
Thusly he urges a mass conversion to agrarian life. While he does not offer a prescription for natural farming, his method is itself a prescription to heal a dying land, a dying way of life, and a dying society. I could not help but be moved by these pages. Being what might be described as a Zen Catholic, I found myself repeatedly nodding in agreement as the author illuminated certain ideas that I felt but could never describe. In my case (even with my admittedly salad bar predilection towards religion) Fukuoka clearly preaches to the choir. If I can contribute anything to the discussion of this book it is this.
Science conducted separate from nature is not science
Farming conducted separate from nature is not farming
Life conducted separate from nature is not life.
Even with my verbose tendencies I could never hope to truly do this book justice. Read it for yourself if you haven't already.
