The Commons Before the Combine: A Short History of Farmers Working Together
Ask most people when farmers started cooperating and they will picture the grain co-op down the road, or a barn raising in a period drama: something quaint, something that grew up alongside the tractor and the telephone. The real answer is older than writing. For most of the roughly nine thousand years since people first settled down to grow food, cooperation was not a value farmers held. It was the machinery. A shared irrigation channel, a shared plough team, a shared calendar for who grazes which pasture and when: none of it worked without a standing agreement among neighbours about who did what, when, and what happened if someone broke the rule. Take the agreement away and the technology stops functioning, not because anyone lacked the tools, but because nobody had a way to run them past the scale of a single household.
The Treadmill Nobody Chose
A follow-up to Monocultures Are Dumb by Design
Let me be direct about where I stand.
I work in technology. I have spent over two decades building open-source infrastructure, mesh networks, and digital tools designed to put capability into communities’ hands rather than extract it from them. I believe in technology that serves people. I have seen it do exactly that.
And in the contest between family farmers and the Monsanto playbook, I have no difficulty choosing a side.
Monocultures Are Dumb by Design: The AgTech Playbook Nobody Should Be Celebrating
My father farmed in Carinthia, Austria, and I grew up working alongside him. He was not a man of many words. When he did speak, it was measured, the kind of thing worth sitting with rather than answering. I was not particularly good at sitting with things. Two generations of men on a farm: we had the stubbornness in common, not the patience.
One thought stayed with me: that we were not owners of the land but custodians for a generation, obliged to hand it back better than we found it. Soil depleted by one generation becomes a liability for the next. Varieties lost cannot be recovered. Knowledge not passed on disappears. He never liked monocultures, and chipped away at alternatives steadily rather than making radical changes. My instinct would have been to reject the whole model outright, go further and faster at the time. His approach turned out to be the more long-term sustainable.