In our last issue, we opened this topic with a discussion of what makes the grazing industry different
from farming, and how understanding that difference is essential to understanding the role of the
rancher as a person who harvests land that would be unharvestable by any other worker/provider. Then we
promised to discuss reasons why land taken out of productive use by ranchers can become land that loses its
value to anyone, even ranchers.
In taking up this topic we recall a saying—a bumpersticker,
even—from some 15 to 20 years ago: “Cattle Free by ’93”
(it later became “Cattle Free by ’03”) was the message of
this anti-rancher outcry. The slogan applied to the public
lands of the West. Adversaries of grazers would have nothing
less than complete riddance. That is still the agenda—
riddance—for a great many people who call themselves
environmentalists.
But how “environmental” is that stance, really? There’s
been a lot of purported science that would have us take all
the cattle off all Western public lands, and of course the
anticipated outcome is some kind of imagined natural paradise.
But would that in fact actually materialize?
What a growing number of biologists believe today is that
land bereft of any population of large, heavy, hoofed ungulates
such as buffalo or—in the closest approximation possible
today, cattle—is land that not only would not teem
with biodiversity, but also would turn from green to brown,
going from a verdant state to a desert state.
“Desertification” is the word, and it was given prominence
by an African-born biologist named Allan Savory (his views
are searchable on the Web), who pioneered the view that
cattle are what can save, or continue to save, the American
West from the same desertification that blighted his onetime
home of Zimbabwe.
Savory came to realize that what the ground and vegetation
need is not exclusion of grazing animals but rather concentrated,
intense activity and impact from them. In the
days before the settling of the American West, the land got
that from the massive, tightly packed, migratory herds of
buffalo. These animals hit the land in rotation, and when
they hit it they hit it hard. Such patterns will never be recovered
in today’s piecemeal, partitioned West, but some
approximation of that pattern can be achieved with grazing
by cattle.
As writer Lisa Hamilton observed in an article for New
Farm, “As the ground changes with [the cattle’s] impact, so
does its ability to retain water. The key to keeping water is
having something there to hold a raindrop when it hits. On
bare, hard dirt, water just rolls away. But after cattle have
been trampling around, their hooves have roughened the
soil enough that it will catch rain. They have broken dead
plants into stems and twigs that lie on the ground and act
like so many little dams. And they have laid a foundation for
the future: With their manure as fertilizer and their hoofprints
as planting pots, they encourage the growth of new plants—the best tool there is for retaining water. The
more water there is available, the more varied the plant
community will be.”
Overgrazing, according to Savory, is created not by too
many numbers of animals, but by too little recovery time
between grazing intervals. A 1998 Colorado State
University found biodiversity to be highest in moderately
grazed lands and lower under heavy grazing, but lowest of
all on ungrazed land.
Moreover, grazing stimulates growth and productivity.
“If you don’t cut your hair,” as someone once remarked, “it
becomes a long, stringy, slow-growing mess over time.”
The same is true for rangeland. Grass is healthier if it is
mowed down or grazed down. It produces more oxygen
for the atmosphere. Being healthier and more vigorous, it
retains moisture.
We’ll share more in this vein in a later commentary, but
with what space remains let us revisit another topic. It has
become increasingly apparent that most of the opposition
to cattle by vegetarians and purported environmentalists
is criticism that applies only to the practice of fattening
cattle on grain.
There are claims out there that 70 percent of all grains
and cereals produced in the nation are going toward fattening
livestock. In citing these figures, the adversaries of
beef feel they are lumping in the blame for all the water use
and fertilization and herbicide use and pesticide use that
goes with that much agriculture. It is blame that is laid at
the feet of not just the grain farmer but also, by extension,
the rancher. And this is to say nothing of the allegations
about feedlots’ animal waste and other undesirable
byproducts.
Whether the “70 percent” statistic is accurate or not, no
one will try to deny that a large percentage of the grain
being produced is indeed being fed to animals. But if finishing
(fattening) animals for slaughter is the problem,
then is it wrong to say that the blame for that lies with the
market forces that are seeking fatter beef? For it is entirely
within the market’s grasp to support and purchase
healthier grass-fattened beef. Some will say it is not as flavorful,
but others will strongly deny. Some will say it is
tougher. That is a harder claim to refute, but there are
other ways to deal with this issue also. A grass-fattened
steer might yield meat that is not as tender, but there are
ways to remedy that. Beef can be ground into hamburger.
It can be shredded, chopped, chipped, wafered, or stewed,
or otherwise reduced to softer preparations. It can be marinated
or slow-cooked at lower temperatures for greater
tenderness. The fact is, it is high-grade protein, and even if it had to be put through a meat grinder into the finest
paste, it would still be a recipe ingredient that would
increase the protein content of any dish and be received as
a welcome upgrade, in most quarters and most lands, to
the diet. Protein is protein, and as a nutrient it is one of the
hardest to come by and the quickest to be in short supply
among deprived peoples.
“Environmentalists,” feeling unhampered by these
realities or unfazed by them, have decided that you, neighbor,
can do without animal proteins in your nutritional
regimen. That being the case, it could be time for the
ranching industry to place the onus on the end-user, the
consumer, for the “sins” of fattening beef. We can be in
favor of grass-fat beef. We can be in favor of it even as the
meat packers transport the animals to the feedlot. That is
not the doing of the rancher. It is the doing of the end user
and the meat packer, and of those two, the end user
deserves more of the presumed “blame.”
And if finishing cattle on grass is where things do go,
then that 70 percent land-use figure will decrease accordingly.
Some will say that there is not enough grass to fatten
that many cattle. But for every steer that is taken off feed,
is there not an equivalent share of that “70 percent” of
grain-producing farmland that is freed up for other usage,
not being needed for grain production? Why couldn’t that
land be put into pasture?
In summary, we who hope to defend the ranching community
ought put ourselves into the business of defending
grass, not grain. Grass is easily defensible, supremely
defensible. The greatest vulnerability here rests upon the
industry of fattening cattle, and that is in many respects an
industry apart from ranching.