Some lines of work are inherently distasteful even while those doing them are generally respected. Slaughtering animals is an example. Many of us eat meat and prefer not to think about the killing part, but we would not naturally regard a slaughterman with suspicion or distrust.
In other cases, there is no real reason why a job should evoke negative feelings, but for one reason or another it has fallen into disrepute. It may be hard to believe now, but politics was once regarded as a virtuous pursuit.
Regardless of how or why a job falls from grace, there are usually still some well-motivated people involved. They don't quite fit in - insiders can tell they're being deviant, but everyone else naturally assumes they're as bad as the rest.
Alison Barrett has recently reminded us that not all obstetricians are hateful misogynists. Following that example I want to talk a bit about farming, from the perspective of a newbie (6 years in).
I think of farming as a virtue - there is a clear purpose but a plethora of choices, so learning is part of the game and you can always do better. I love that lack of endpoint.
Kinsey-Albrect principles of mineral balancing.
Having charted a course for the physical and chemical balance of our soils, we're now tackling the biological activity. This is an under-researched topic in agronomy, because there's no money in it for anyone except farmers. Pretty much all agricultural research is directed by people who sell stuff to farmers. Even the government funding, which should really be directed at public good investments is usually required to have co-funding from industry. If there isn't a prospect of selling something to farmers, and you don't win the Marsden Fund lottery then it's probably not going to happen.
There is huge potential value to farmers, the environment and climate change from enhancing soil biology, but the dominant business model still involves selling poison and bagged nitrogen. These are very profitable industries, against whose lobbying and marketing power a broad public interest research agenda stands little chance. So we rely on our own investigations and information shared with like-minded farmers of whom there are quite a few.
We reckon there are two basic ways to deal with weeds, pests and disease: kill them directly, or change the environment so they don't thrive. The first approach is constantly being sold to farmers. It's easy because the killing just needs poison and it seems efficient because we can't easily see the longer-term collateral damage from the poison. Even glyphosate resistance just makes the industry double down with ever more toxic brews.
We prefer to feed and encourage natural environments that our enemies hate. We've had no need for weedkiller or pesticide for years, which may be unusual. But most farmers would readily see the potential benefits of swapping buttercup for clover by adding lime, mulching hillside gorse only when we're ready to manage the resulting N boost properly (i.e. make sure the grass beats the gorse regrowth), and even mob-stocking.
At the moment, our main focus is to wake up our soil fungi. Soil-food web tests suggest there is plenty of fungi down there, but the lazy buggers are mostly asleep. We're aiming our next foliar (liquid) fertilise brew at kicking them into life, and the natural nitrogen cycle along with it. The plan is that the fungi will eat the N-storing bacteria, making the N and other things more available to the plants. This hope is based on wide reading and discussion. It does rely on a fairly complicated analysis and theory though, involving soils, soil critters and plants. So lots could still go wrong, but we're up for a multi-year process.
Meantime, we're getting on with all the compliance upgrades. Our place is at the head of a valley and the farm is cut up by several decent streams/rivers. If our cows routinely shat in the river, we couldn't drink the water and wouldn't want to swim in the river. We'd also be compromising the superb Pelorus Bridge swimming holes. The same goes for nitrogen leaching and phosphorus contamination, which in our case would end up flowing into the Pelorus Sound at Havelock - yuk.
I'm sure we share with many other farmers a sense of public duty to minimise our environmental footprint while farming sustainably. That includes making a profit which is still on our "not achieved" list, along with making our soils hum with energy, growing huge volumes of high brix fodder without big fertiliser bills, and breeding a superbly healthy and productive herd of cows.
I'm pretty sure that many dairy farmers will be interested to see how this works out, even if they wouldn't do it themselves. We're an enterprising lot. And we're not all the same.