By F.V. Beup Jr.
We knew it had to come sooner or later: food would have to precede everything else. After humans have exhausted the world's resources to churn out goods for the market, in the end what really matters is survival.
If we pause and think for a while, the common notion of progress is that we have all the material means to make our life easier and more convenient. Capitalism has responded to this notion very successfully by providing not only the tools and talents for the manufacture of goods for utility but more so for providing the incentives necessary for these tools and talents to be maximally exploited. Progress has almost become synonymous with wealth created from the sale of goods in the market for profit. To create more wealth, you must always have something to sell. It is in this manner that capitalism is credited for having lifted millions out of poverty, making it the most successful economic system man has ever deviced. But how far can you go into manufacturing and selling before you exhaust the market? More importantly, how far can you go through this practice without exhausting your resources to produce goods?
The latter part of the 20th century (and the present) seemingly circumvented this problem by entering the age of "knowledge economy" whereby people could make profits not only by selling material goods but by selling ideas (intellectual goods, if you may) as well. For a moment it appears that there is a whole new world where money, or wealth, can be made without ever having to sell something tactile. The mouse-clicking, idea-selling salarymen or entrepreneurs sell and shop in their offices, bringing the market into their computers where everything appears infinite, inexhaustible. Many of those who belong to this "knowledge" generation have nary an idea that there is a real world out there where goods that find their way to the supermarkets and the cybermarket have their very origins from the ground, that is to say the earth. And the earth's resources are finite. This appears unimaginable particularly to those who have not been to the countryside and observed how the most basic of commodities are produced, particularly food. For these people food shortage is nothing but surreal.
How did it come to this?
It used to be that wealth could be made with the sale of the land's produce, and so owning land was something that everyone was willing to die for. Industrialization slowly pushed away the importance of land in favor of manufactured goods, and subsequent developments in technology further relegated it to the far recesses of man's memory. Manufacturing earned far better profits than farming. Besides, food could be grown in great quantities, more than enough to feed the world, thanks to agricultural research and scientific food production. In addition, food could be processed, preserved and stored more efficiently. Food could also be imported from agriculturally productive countries, thanks to market liberalization. Altogether, these have spawned a culture so utterly detached from the processes involved in growing food that almost a whole generation has grown believing that everything can be had if one has the money. Perhaps the ultimate sin of the knowledge economy is its overdependence on cash and near-complete indifference to land and its cultivation.
In the meantime industries have to keep on producing goods for consumption to pursue the ever-urgent demand for growth. But after everything else has been produced and bought, after every need and urge has been satiated (if ever it could be satiated), where do we look for further stimuli to growth? Let us pause for a while and think of the earth's resources having been completely exhausted. There is nothing more to produce as there is nothing more resource left to be used as raw material. Does this mean the end of growth and economic development?
While indeed capitalism has created unprecedented wealth for billions of people worldwide, it has also been criticized for having failed to lift the rest out of poverty. This, people point out, is the crisis of capitalism. In a sense this is true, but what else do we have for alternative? The present food crisis presents a new problem for capitalism in that it poses a grave choice between sustaining economic growth and human survival.
Perhaps the crisis of capitalism lies not so much in its failure to lift everyone out of poverty as in its failure to define what is enough for itself. Food, and the lack of it, may just spell the end of capitalism, or at least wound its bloated pride. Historically, however, capitalism's tenacity to adapt and survive challenges has always been astounding. Let's see how it hurdles this one.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Rice
By F. V. Beup Jr.
In my very brief stint as a History teacher a year ago, I once discussed in class the importance of rice as a staple in Asia. Looking now at the problem of rice shortage in the Philippines and elsewhere, I'm so glad I delivered that lecture at a time when no one seemed to care about this precious grain.
I remember that at the end of the semester I asked my students to write an essay on what they had learned from my class. Out of 200 or so students, at least one said that she learned from my class how important rice was. Which is to say, that my effort at imparting some knowledge and responsibility among the young toward this staple had not been completely lost. Especially on this one student.
(Rice fields of the International Rice
Research Institute. Photo grabbed
from BBC website).
The history of rice as an important source of nourishment goes back several thousand years. Historians credit its discovery and widespread cultivation as one of the major social, political and economic movers of rice-consuming Asia. This is so because rice-cultivation entails the harnessing of water to irrigate the paddies, and this in turn requires an enormous amount of human labor to accomplish. The maintenance of the paddies as well as the backbreaking task of planting and harvesting rice make social organization and cooperation imperative. Rice became so important that, in some cases, it could take the place of money. In pre-modern China and Japan, debts and taxes could be paid in rice.
More importantly, however, rice made it possible to feed more people. With more of this grain cultivated, harvested and stored, people could afford to have and support more children. In turn, the children themselves became useful in the tilling of the fields. Occassionally, there would be some problems with the harvests creating social and political unrest. It is for this reason that rice becomes a very political commodity.
Yet it is not so much of the shortage in rice that is the problem than the rapid population growth. Historically, the supply of rice has never kept up with the rise in population. The French historian Fernand Braudel in his book, The Structures of Everday Life: Civilization and Capitalism, 15th-18th Century, saw rice as a victim of its own success: by being able to feed more people, rice also made possible the rapid population growth that would outstrip its production. Braudel made that comment several decades ago. That comment may as well have been made at present, specifically with reference to the Philippines.
In Asia rice does not only function as a staple. It is also the center of many rituals pointing to its great importance. This is not surprising at all. The Japanese's mythical goddess Amaterasu was said to have cultivated the rice fields to feed the Japanese people. That is to say that rice plays a very important role not only in the survival of the Japanese but it also occupies a special place in their consciousness. Rice cakes made from glutinous rice are used by the Japanese on special occassions particularly during Japanese New Year. This is also true in China and Korea where various traditional rice cakes are served on special occassions. To some extent (particularly in the provinces), Filipinos also like to prepare sticky rice delicacies (ex. biko, ibos, sapin-sapin, etc.) on special days like All Souls Day and Christmas. I have not yet come across a history of Philippine rice delicacies, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they really take their cue from cultures that have a long tradition of rice-cultivation.
Not surprisingly, the old civilizations of Asia are also the ones that show more respect for rice. For example, you can rarely see, if at all, Japanese and Koreans wasting rice. They cook and eat what is enough for them. This observation has led me to comment in my History class that these countries eat rice as if they were poor. Compared to them, the Filipinos eat rice as if they were wealthy. My comment of course is not without basis. The (Philippines)Bureau of Agricultural Statistics and the Food and Nutrition Research Institute estimates that each Filipino wastes 1 spoonful of rice everyday. That amounts to 22 million pesos and can feed the Filipino population for 14 days. I do not need more proof to believe that information. I look around me every meal and I see the wasteful practice everytime.
So, what can we learn from these? First, we know that rice can feed huge populations, but it cannot always do this when population grows at a much faster pace. Rice shortage is obviously not just a problem of supply. Which brings me to the question of how the Philippines manages its population (if at all). Second, we know that respect accorded to rice is rooted in culture, and respect for the staple eventually works in favor of the people through savings and, yes, the concomitant responsibility. How then can we help solve the rice shortage problem? You're a good student; you already know.
In my very brief stint as a History teacher a year ago, I once discussed in class the importance of rice as a staple in Asia. Looking now at the problem of rice shortage in the Philippines and elsewhere, I'm so glad I delivered that lecture at a time when no one seemed to care about this precious grain.
I remember that at the end of the semester I asked my students to write an essay on what they had learned from my class. Out of 200 or so students, at least one said that she learned from my class how important rice was. Which is to say, that my effort at imparting some knowledge and responsibility among the young toward this staple had not been completely lost. Especially on this one student.
(Rice fields of the International Rice
Research Institute. Photo grabbed
from BBC website).
The history of rice as an important source of nourishment goes back several thousand years. Historians credit its discovery and widespread cultivation as one of the major social, political and economic movers of rice-consuming Asia. This is so because rice-cultivation entails the harnessing of water to irrigate the paddies, and this in turn requires an enormous amount of human labor to accomplish. The maintenance of the paddies as well as the backbreaking task of planting and harvesting rice make social organization and cooperation imperative. Rice became so important that, in some cases, it could take the place of money. In pre-modern China and Japan, debts and taxes could be paid in rice.
More importantly, however, rice made it possible to feed more people. With more of this grain cultivated, harvested and stored, people could afford to have and support more children. In turn, the children themselves became useful in the tilling of the fields. Occassionally, there would be some problems with the harvests creating social and political unrest. It is for this reason that rice becomes a very political commodity.
Yet it is not so much of the shortage in rice that is the problem than the rapid population growth. Historically, the supply of rice has never kept up with the rise in population. The French historian Fernand Braudel in his book, The Structures of Everday Life: Civilization and Capitalism, 15th-18th Century, saw rice as a victim of its own success: by being able to feed more people, rice also made possible the rapid population growth that would outstrip its production. Braudel made that comment several decades ago. That comment may as well have been made at present, specifically with reference to the Philippines.
In Asia rice does not only function as a staple. It is also the center of many rituals pointing to its great importance. This is not surprising at all. The Japanese's mythical goddess Amaterasu was said to have cultivated the rice fields to feed the Japanese people. That is to say that rice plays a very important role not only in the survival of the Japanese but it also occupies a special place in their consciousness. Rice cakes made from glutinous rice are used by the Japanese on special occassions particularly during Japanese New Year. This is also true in China and Korea where various traditional rice cakes are served on special occassions. To some extent (particularly in the provinces), Filipinos also like to prepare sticky rice delicacies (ex. biko, ibos, sapin-sapin, etc.) on special days like All Souls Day and Christmas. I have not yet come across a history of Philippine rice delicacies, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they really take their cue from cultures that have a long tradition of rice-cultivation.
Not surprisingly, the old civilizations of Asia are also the ones that show more respect for rice. For example, you can rarely see, if at all, Japanese and Koreans wasting rice. They cook and eat what is enough for them. This observation has led me to comment in my History class that these countries eat rice as if they were poor. Compared to them, the Filipinos eat rice as if they were wealthy. My comment of course is not without basis. The (Philippines)Bureau of Agricultural Statistics and the Food and Nutrition Research Institute estimates that each Filipino wastes 1 spoonful of rice everyday. That amounts to 22 million pesos and can feed the Filipino population for 14 days. I do not need more proof to believe that information. I look around me every meal and I see the wasteful practice everytime.
So, what can we learn from these? First, we know that rice can feed huge populations, but it cannot always do this when population grows at a much faster pace. Rice shortage is obviously not just a problem of supply. Which brings me to the question of how the Philippines manages its population (if at all). Second, we know that respect accorded to rice is rooted in culture, and respect for the staple eventually works in favor of the people through savings and, yes, the concomitant responsibility. How then can we help solve the rice shortage problem? You're a good student; you already know.
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