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UNDERSTANDING THE SOIL HEALTH KNOWLEDGE
OF FARMERS IN THE YAKIMA VALLEY

by
Alex L. Case-Cohen

A Thesis
Submitted in partial fulfillment
of the requirements for the degree
Master of Environmental Studies
The Evergreen State College
December 2018

© 2018 by Alex Case-Cohen. All rights reserved.

This Thesis for the Master of Environmental Studies Degree
by
Alex L. Case-Cohen

has been approved for
The Evergreen State College
by

________________________
Kevin Francis
Member of the Faculty

________________________
Date

ABSTRACT
Understanding the Soil Health Knowledge of Farmers in the Yakima Valley
Alex L. Case-Cohen
Soil scientists and agronomists have established a number of parameters defining soil
health; however, it is unclear how effectively this information reaches farmers and land
managers. This study asks: what is the soil health knowledge (SHK) of farmers in the
Yakima Valley, and where does this information originate? Through semi-structured
interviews, 15 participants were asked questions addressing seven main points:
demographic background, history, education, community involvement, farming
philosophy, management practices and risk aversion. Soil cores were then collected to
measure bulk density, carbon and nitrogen contents of two fields that each farmer
determined to be of high fertility or low fertility.
The interview results show that although the participants have different demographic
characteristics, education, and agricultural backgrounds, all 15 participants understand
the importance of organic matter to overall soil health. Through the implementation of at
least one of these management practices (cover crops, manure or compost application,
minimum tillage or no-till, and/or perennial crop cultivation), the participants in this
study understand the benefits of adding organic matter to their soils.
A number of factors inform farmers’ SHK, which includes: education; developing
connections with neighbors, experts and chemical distributors; and to a lesser degree,
governmental and university recommendations. The most significant contribution to the
farmers’ SHK, though, is trial-and-error and practical experience. In addition, some
farmers described intuition as a major influence on their management decision-making.
In order to analyze soil samples, paired t-tests showed no significant difference between
high fertility and low fertility sites of all 15 farms sampled; however, variation can be
found when considering farmers and their land on an individual basis. A multiple linear
regression found significant correlations between all three variables (bulk density, %
carbon and % nitrogen) and crop type; blueberry farmers had the lowest bulk density and
highest % carbon and % nitrogen of all crop types sampled. Other significant findings
concern different types of certification (farming philosophy), dream farm description
(risk aversion) and work with crop consultants (community involvement). However, with
such a small sample size, it is difficult to suggest any concrete findings from this study.
More research into the management practices, farming philosophy, community
involvement, and risk aversion may provide insight into a farm’s soil health and a
producer’s SHK. During a time of population increase, climate change and rapid soil
degradation, it is necessary for us to understand what contributes to SHK and what
management practices can be used to improve overall soil health.

Table of Contents
List of Figures .......................................................................................................................... x
List of Tables........................................................................................................................... xi
Acknowledgements ................................................................................................................xii
Chapter 1: Introduction............................................................................................................ 1
Roadmap of thesis................................................................................................................ 5
Chapter 2: Literature Review .................................................................................................. 5
History of soil science ......................................................................................................... 7
Agriculture – Then and now ........................................................................................... 7
An Antebellum introduction and Land-Grant/extension formation ........................... 11
Tension rises at the turn of the 20 century .................................................................. 14
th

The Green Revolution and Productivism ..................................................................... 19
Researchers in agricultural and soil sciences ................................................................... 24
Evaluating the quality, health, functions and services of soils ................................... 25
Future of soil science inquiry........................................................................................ 28
Soil biology ................................................................................................................ 28
Soil carbon and organic matter ................................................................................. 30
Technological development ...................................................................................... 31
Transdisciplinary research ........................................................................................ 34
Science, technology and innovation ............................................................................. 37
The dominance of the scientific model in agriculture ............................................. 39
Reducing biological systems to a sum of their parts ............................................... 41
The disconnect ............................................................................................................... 46
The path forward............................................................................................................ 48

iv

First step: Bring farmers to the decision-making table........................................... 49
From traditional science to complex systems thinking .......................................... 50
Case study from the Netherlands ............................................................................. 52
Farmer empowerment in Tanzania .......................................................................... 54
The path forward takeaways .................................................................................... 57
The soil itself ..................................................................................................................... 58
Indicators of soil health and quality ............................................................................. 61
Biological indicators ................................................................................................. 61
Physical indicators .................................................................................................... 65
Chemical indicators .................................................................................................. 69
Synthesis of indicators .............................................................................................. 72
Soil organic matter: The life of the soil ....................................................................... 73
Indicator of soil health .............................................................................................. 75
Bulk density, carbon and nitrogen as OM measurements ...................................... 78
Binding the soil, scientists and farmers ................................................................... 80
Management to improve SOM ..................................................................................... 82
Tillage ........................................................................................................................ 83
Cover Crops............................................................................................................... 86
Perennial crops .......................................................................................................... 89
Crop rotation ............................................................................................................. 92
Compost, manure and biosolids application ........................................................... 93
Right Source, Right Rate, Right Time, Right Place ............................................. 100
Why we study the soil itself ....................................................................................... 104
Farmers: The creation and dissemination of tacit knowledge ...................................... 105
Lack of knowledge depth in farmers’ broad understanding ..................................... 110

v

Understanding Tacit Knowledge: Interview Analysis .................................................. 112
Demographic Information ........................................................................................... 113
Age ........................................................................................................................... 114
Sense of Place and Connection to the Land........................................................... 117
Experience................................................................................................................ 118
Education ................................................................................................................. 123
Gender ...................................................................................................................... 124
Government Regulation and Policy Enactment..................................................... 138
Market Demands .......................................................................................................... 142
From small-scale diversification to globalized agribusinesses ............................. 143
Certifications and Consumer Preference for Sustainability .................................. 148
Farmer Identity and Farming Philosophy .................................................................. 153
Voluntary incentives for farmers and sustainable management ........................... 155
The formation and expression of farmer identities ............................................... 160
Defining and valuing soil health............................................................................. 168
Risk management and aversion .................................................................................. 172
Tacit Knowledge Takeaways ...................................................................................... 174
Social and geological history of Yakima ....................................................................... 177
Geological history........................................................................................................ 178
Lava flows, folds and faults .................................................................................... 178
The Great Lake Missoula floods ............................................................................ 179
The Columbia River Basin...................................................................................... 181
Topography .............................................................................................................. 182
Climate ..................................................................................................................... 182
Vegetation ................................................................................................................ 183

vi

From desert steppe to agricultural epicenter ......................................................... 184
Social history ............................................................................................................... 184
Irrigation and the age of agriculture ...................................................................... 189
Contemporary Yakima ........................................................................................... 192
Chapter 3: Methods ............................................................................................................. 193
Interviews......................................................................................................................... 194
Sampling method ........................................................................................................ 194
Interview method ........................................................................................................ 195
Questions ..................................................................................................................... 196
Soil fertility analysis ....................................................................................................... 197
Collecting surveys using GIS ..................................................................................... 198
Soil sampling ............................................................................................................... 199
Oven-drying................................................................................................................. 201
Carbon and nitrogen analysis ..................................................................................... 202
Interview and soil data integration ................................................................................. 203
Methods summary ........................................................................................................... 205
Chapter 4: Results................................................................................................................ 206
Interview results .............................................................................................................. 207
Demographic information........................................................................................... 207
Age, education and experience .............................................................................. 209
Education and ways of learning ............................................................................. 210
Sense of place and connection to the land............................................................. 213
Social history ........................................................................................................... 214
Trusted networks: From communities and networks of practice to webs of
influencers ................................................................................................................... 215

vii

Communities of practice ......................................................................................... 217
Networks of practice and webs of influencers....................................................... 220
Farmer identity & farming philosophy....................................................................... 226
Weeds: Beneficial or a nuisance? ........................................................................... 227
Organic practices ..................................................................................................... 230
Soil Health Knowledge: Understanding established indicators of soil health ......... 234
Defining soil health ................................................................................................. 234
Familiarity with established indicators of soil health............................................ 237
Physical properties .................................................................................................. 238
Biological properties ............................................................................................... 243
Chemical properties................................................................................................. 248
Organic Matter ............................................................................................................. 251
Manure, compost and biosolids .............................................................................. 255
Perennial crops ........................................................................................................ 259
Minimum and no-till practices................................................................................ 260
Soil degradation through management practices ................................................... 264
Soil quality indicators ............................................................................................. 267
Texture analysis and knowledge of geological history ......................................... 270
Risk aversion ................................................................................................................ 273
Market demands ...................................................................................................... 278
Dream farm description .......................................................................................... 283
Interview results takeaway .......................................................................................... 286
Soil sampling results and discussion .............................................................................. 288
Distribution of selected variables ............................................................................... 290
Total sample descriptive analysis ........................................................................... 292

viii

High and low fertility.................................................................................................. 293
Multiple Linear Regression ........................................................................................ 300
Sample crop type..................................................................................................... 301
Connections ............................................................................................................. 304
Certification ............................................................................................................. 305
Dream farm.............................................................................................................. 305
Simple regression (ANOVA) and paired t-test ......................................................... 307
Age ........................................................................................................................... 308
Raised in Yakima and generations family farming .............................................. 309
Connections ............................................................................................................. 310
Certification: Global GAP, Salmon Safe and Organic ......................................... 313
Agricultural consultants.......................................................................................... 315
Dream farm description .......................................................................................... 316
Improve nutrients and technology ..................................................................... 317
Farm for soil health and change little ................................................................ 317
Use fewer or no chemicals ................................................................................. 318
Chapter 5: Conclusion ......................................................................................................... 320
Integrating soil indicators and soil health knowledge ................................................... 320
Insights from scientists, farmers and the soil itself ................................................... 323
References ............................................................................................................................ 328
Appendix .............................................................................................................................. 345

ix

List of Figures
Figure 1: Tillage practices from conventional (full tillage) to minimum and no-till ........ 83
Figure 2: Biosolids treatment process from source to agricultural application ................. 97
Figure 3: Permitted levels of regulated metals in Loop Biosolids ...................................... 99
Figure 4: Map of the Yakima region, showing the numerous ridges and valleys formed
over millions of years of geologic events ........................................................................... 177
Figure 5: Map of the surface-water irrigation districts, Yakima River Basin .................. 189
Figure 6: Pie chart of participants’ family farming history ............................................... 208
Figure 7: Pie chart of participants’ age distribution .......................................................... 209
Figure 8: Pie chart of participants gender distribution ...................................................... 209
Figure 9: Pie chart of participants’ type of post-secondary education ............................. 210
Figure 10: Pie chart of participants’ place of origin .......................................................... 213
Figure 11: Pie chart of participants’ definition of an agricultural community ................ 217
Figure 12: Pie chart of how participants’ connect with each other................................... 217
Figure 13: Graph depicting how farms, farmland and average farm size have changed
over the past 150 years ........................................................................................................ 219
Figure 14: Correlation between BD, %N and %C for HF and LF sites ........................... 290
Figure 15: Paired t-test comparing HF & LF BD .............................................................. 293
Figure 16: Paired t-test comparing HF & LF %C .............................................................. 294
Figure 17: Paired t-test comparing HF & LF %N.............................................................. 294
Figure 18: Average results for each farmer comparing high and low fertility sites based
on Bulk Density. .................................................................................................................. 296
Figure 19: Average results for each farmer comparing high and low fertility sites based
on percent carbon ................................................................................................................. 296
Figure 20: Average results for each farmer comparing high and low fertility sites based
on percent nitrogen. ............................................................................................................. 297
Figure 21: Multiple linear regressions (MLR) finding correlations between BD, %C, %N
with the sampled crop type.................................................................................................. 301
Figure 22: Feeling disconnected and organic matter content............................................ 310

x

List of Tables
Table 1: plant available nitrogen (PAN) of organic soil amendments ............................... 94
Table 2: Questions and categories for semi-structured interviews................................... 197
Table 3: Comparisons of high fertility and low fertility sites based on the mean bulk
density (BD) for each crop type measured ........................................................................ 302
Table 4: Comparisons of high fertility and low fertility sites based on the mean percent
carbon (%C) for each crop type measured ......................................................................... 303
Table 5: Comparisons of high fertility and low fertility sites based on the mean percent
nitrogen (%N) for each crop type measured ...................................................................... 303
Table 6: Ecosystem services that emphasize soil function and quality ........................... 345
Table 7: ANOVA comparing selected indicators of soil health ....................................... 345
Table 8: ANOVA comparing selected indicators based on crop type ............................. 345
Table 9: MLR comparing the types of connections described by farmers, the number of
farmers that selected each description and their p-value for both HF and LF %C ......... 346
Table 10: MLR comparing the types of certification maintained by farmers, the number
of farmers that selected each description and their p-value for all HF and LF indicators
measured. ............................................................................................................................. 346
Table 11: MLR comparing the farmers’ dream farm description and the p-value for HF
and LF %C. .......................................................................................................................... 347
Table 12: ANOVA comparing the age of respondents with indicators of soil health. ... 347
Table 13: ANOVA Feeling Disconnected/Want More ..................................................... 347
Table 14: ANOVA certification: organic........................................................................... 348
Table 15: ANOVA work with agricultural consultants .................................................... 348
Table 16: ANOVA dream farm description: Fewer or no chemicals .............................. 348

xi

Acknowledgements
There were so many individuals contributed their support and skills to this project. I’d
first like to thank Kaile and the Science Support Center for their help accessing the lab,
retrieving necessary materials, and being available for any issue that arose.
Thank you to the baristas at Olympia Coffee Roasters, my regular study spot. I really
would have struggled throughout this process without your smiles and your free-flowing
caffeine, so thank you so much!
I sincerely appreciate the support of my “adjunct” advisors: Erin Martin, Kathleen Saul,
and Mike Ruth. Erin, thank you for teaching me how to use (and troubleshoot) the CHN
analyzer, answering questions and giving ample advice on analyzing my soil sample.
Kathleen, I sincerely appreciate your help analyzing and synthesizing my data. And
Mike, many thanks for teaching me how to use the random sample generator, in addition
to helping me maintain order in my data.
Thank you to my friends and family for your guidance throughout this process. A special
thank you goes to my roommate, Sarah Morrison, for providing an ear or a shoulder to
cry on through the thick of it. This project would have been so much more over my head
without you all.
Kevin Francis: I’m so grateful for the time we spent together on this project over the
course of TWO YEARS. You’ve seen this through from its inception. You’ve been
available when I needed you, gave me validation when the going felt nearly too tough to
handle, and gave me space to grow and learn throughout this process. Thank you for
everything!
Finally, I’d like to thank the farmers who participated or contributed to this study. Thank
you for inviting me into your homes, offices, trucks, cafes and communities, and showed
me what you know about your land and shared such amazing stories about your
relationship with farming and your land. You all made this thesis happen, and I’m so
honored that you’ve allowed me to share your soil health knowledge with the world.

xii

Chapter 1: Introduction
As humans move into the 21st century, we are beginning to realize that the extent
of our terrestrial frontier has been reached; at this point, we have relatively few places to
continue inhabiting, farming and extracting natural resources. As such, it is necessary for
us to restore our exhausted and overworked lands on a global scale (Doran, 2002; Biel,
2016). While this may seem like a straightforward task, the ideology and epistemology
of the two most influential players responsible for land management, farmers and
scientists, have misunderstood each other for over a century. In order to truly conserve
our natural resources and protect our land from degradation, these two groups must learn
to speak each other’s languages, respect each other’s point of view, and work
collaboratively.
Farmers, the doers, users and interactors, have developed their management
practices from an extensive historical framework dating back thousands of years; these
individuals learn through experience and share information generationally and
communally (Jensen et al., 2007). While this group has developed a nearly pre-historic
tradition of land management, many of their practices have been found to lead to
environmental destruction and have been attributed to the demise of entire civilizations
(Montgomery, 2007). While these individuals possess a breadth of knowledge and have
gained an intuitive understanding of their land through generations, many of them do not
have the resources to effectively monitor the impacts of their management decisions on
their local environment. They lack the depth of understanding concerning complex
biological, physical and chemical processes taking place above and belowground.

1

Soil and Agricultural Scientists are oriented towards science, technology and
innovation; they’ve developed their understanding since early Antebellum America and
have formalized their inquiries into established scientific fields (Jensen et al., 2007;
Cohen, 2010). These individuals are able to observe and monitor natural phenomena in
the lab and in the field, from a microscopic to global scale. Their contributions towards
our understanding of the land and soil are immense, specifically developing established
physical, chemical and biological indicators of soil health (Doran & Parkin, 1994). They
acquire a depth of understanding on a given subject; however, traditional scientific
inquiry has favored a reductionist approach in which a complex biological system is
deconstructed and understood as a sum of its parts (Kloppenburg, 1991; Biel, 2016).
The popularization of the German university model during the 19th century has
resulted in the over-emphasis of basic scientific inquiry in academia (O’Boyle, 1983;
Oosterlinck et al., 2002). In addition, soil and agricultural scientists have struggled to
establish themselves as a respectable scientific field, suggesting that they receive less
funding for research. This has resulted in their preference towards basic scientific
inquiry, the pursuit of knowledge for the sake of knowledge, in favor of applied science,
which seeks to understand how it is best diffused for use by a wider audience (Fox et al.,
1987; Oosterlinck et al., 2002). Soil and agricultural scientists have immensely increased
our understanding of the natural world; however, if their insights are not effectively
communicated to the end users, their efforts towards land and soil conservation may not
be fully realized.
While these two groups largely differ in their epistemological, social and cultural
ideologies, their collaboration is absolutely essential to conserve natural resources and

2

prevent land degradation on a global scale. In order to do so in the most effective way
possible, farmers and scientists must work cooperatively to improve our understanding of
how management practices impact our local environments (Hoffman et al., 2007). By
utilizing established indicators of soil health upheld by scientists in conjunction with sitespecific and experience-based knowledge practiced by farmers, the two groups can work
together to improve overall understanding of soil health across the globe (Doran, 2002).
Unfortunately, the heavy reliance on basic science in the last century has created a
coincidental hegemonic dominance of western science over other modes of learning,
particularly local and traditional ecological knowledge (O’Boyle, 1983; Fox et al., 1987;
Oosterlinck et al., 2002; Bouma, 2018). This has forced farmers to doubt their
experience-based understanding of their land, and the expert to non-expert relay of
information has become the norm. The lack of communication and understanding
between these two groups has allowed for the pattern of human-induced soil degradation
to continue, even though our understanding of these systems has increased immensely.
I therefore argue that increasing our understanding of how these two groups
diverge in epistemologies and ways of knowing, identifying commonalities between
these two groups, and providing examples of successful applied scientific inquiry, will
help pave the way towards truly sustainable land management. To further this inquiry, I
ask a three-fold research question: what is the soil health knowledge (SHK) of farmers in
the Yakima Valley? Where does this knowledge originate? And how familiar are these
individuals with established indicators of soil health upheld by the agricultural and soil
science communities?

3

In order to address these questions, I interviewed 15 farmers inhabiting the
Yakima Valley, one of the most agriculturally productive regions in the United States
(USDA Census, 2012). These individuals grow a wide variety of crops and come from a
diverse array of backgrounds; their demographic information, history, education, work
with internal and external groups, farmer identity, farming philosophy, and risk aversion
were all points considered to potentially influence their SHK. I then asked farmers to
identify one field of high fertility and one field of low fertility, and measured bulk density
percent carbon and percent nitrogen, all established indicators of soil health and organic
matter1 content, to see what factors contributed to soil deemed healthy by academia.
Based on the literature, I suggest that older farmers (at least 50 years of age) born
into farming families (with at least three generations of farming history), who grew up in
the Yakima Valley, and are well connected to local agricultural communities will have
better SHK and subsequently better soil health than other farmers. In addition, I
hypothesize that my chosen indicators of soil health, bulk density, percent carbon and
percent nitrogen, can accurately identify organic matter levels in the soil, which can then
be used as a means to communicate soil health. This analysis will observe whether or not
organic matter, the living component of the soil, can serve as a point of connection
between both farmers and scientists. Both groups recognize the vital role living and dead
organisms play in soil health, although as previously discussed, their ways of interpreting
and communicating their understanding are different (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002;
D’Hose et al., 2014; de Souza Mello Bicalho & dos Guimaraes Peixoto, 2016).

1

4

For soil organic matter, the abbreviations OM and SOM will be used interchangeably.

Roadmap of thesis
This thesis begins with an extensive literature review of the history of land
management, and how soil and agricultural sciences were born out this historic practice.
I will then analyze how farmers and scientists differ in their modes of learning and will
identify how these divergent epistemologies may have contributed to land degradation on
a global scale. The methods section explains how I collected, analyzed and compared my
interview and soil data. I then follow with the results and discussion, beginning with a
comprehensive explanation of interview data, soil sampling results, followed by a
thorough synthesis of these two sets of data. As a truly inter-disciplinary project, I hope
to create a more comprehensive understanding of how farmers and scientists differ, how
these discrepancies have contributed to global soil degradation, and how we can move
forward collaboratively to ensure natural resource and land conservation indefinitely.

Chapter 2: Literature Review
This literature Review begins with an abridged examination of the history of
agriculture and human land management, and how soil and agricultural science was born
out of an early Agrarian America. I show that since soil and agricultural science has
struggled to be recognized as valid scientific fields, the widespread application of new
and noteworthy research has received little credence. I then examine how the neglect of
scientific application has deepened the divide between farmers and scientists,
encouraging farmers to rely solely on universities for support and information, and
contributing to the Productivist era and the Green Revolution. Nevertheless, it is then
essential to bring to light the vast contributions made by the soil and agricultural
5

sciences, specifically creating physical, chemical and biological indicators of soil health;
an explanation of how specific management practices impact the soil is also worthwhile,
since this information can largely inform how farmers can better manage their land.
At this point, I delve deeper into the divergent epistemologies upheld by farmers,
the doers, users and interactors (DUI) and the scientists, technologists and innovators
(STI). I show how both groups have much to contribute to our understanding of the
complex processes taking place above and belowground, but the fact that they exist in
different cultures has historically prevented collaboration. I then cite specific ways in
which farmers and scientists can learn to work together to increase mutual understanding
and encourage the dissemination of practices of land conservation, offering successful
case study examples.
Next, I delve into the tacit knowledge upheld by farmers. This group gathers
information through trial-and-error, trusted internal and external groups, and is frequently
passed down from generation to generation. Farmers develop knowledge through
experience, and typically possess extensive knowledge of a specific site or region.
Regardless of the knowledge they possess, I have also chosen to analyze whether or not
other factors, like social capital, market demands, or risk management, impact their
management decisions. This explains why I have selected seven indicators of soil health
knowledge: demographic information, personal history, education, community
involvement, farmer identity, farming philosophy and risk aversion.
As discussed throughout the literature review, much of farmers’ knowledge is
context and site specific; because of this, I have offered an abbreviated examination of
the geological and social history of the area. Understanding the volcanic activity,

6

glaciation, periods of flooding helps to inform the soil forming processes taking place,
and exploring the social history, from the population of the area by the semi-nomadic
Yakima tribe to the impacts of Euro-American settlement, we can see how the area
became the agricultural epicenter it is today.

History of soil science
Agriculture – Then and now
In terms of terrestrial ecosystems on planet Earth, soils are the basis of existence
for all life on land. We are born from soil, we are supported by the soil throughout our
lives, and when we die, we become the soil again. All terrestrial organisms have learned
to work with the natural processes occurring above and belowground, reaping benefits
from the land during fertile years and cutting back in times of drought or famine. As
carbon-based life forms, we grow from, benefit from and become the organic matter of
the soil, and we work, grow and change within our constantly evolving planet.
While the health of any ecosystem depends on the maintenance of natural
processes taking place on the soil surface and within the soil column itself, the well-being
of humans depends on the health and wellness of the land in which they inhabit (Barrios,
2007; Buneman et al., 2018). Humans began establishing settlements in favor of
nomadic living roughly 11,000 years ago and began cultivating particular plants for their
consumption (Bellwood, 2017). As this occurred, humans’ relationship with the soil
inevitably changed.
According to Montgomery (2007) as humans became stationary and nutrient
cycling changed on agricultural lands, humans began to quickly recognize the impacts on

7

the soil due to the extraction of nutrients in the form of consumable crops. The author
argues that “soil loss contributed to the demise of societies from the first agricultural
civilizations to the ancient Greeks and Romans, and later helped spur the rise of
European colonialism and the American push westward across North America”. Soil
degradation can be defined as a continuous human-induced process that typically limits
agricultural pursuits, and deteriorates the chemical, physical and biological properties of
a given soil; through interactions with both topography and climate, the undisturbed
ecosystemic processes of an area are altered, and the sustainability and subsequent
agricultural productivity of the land diminishes, threatening human and animal food
security (Baumhardt et al., 2015).
This led to a number of inquiries into maintaining soil health and fertility at the
dawn of the agricultural era, explaining how a number of the first written documents
concerned the maintenance of soil fertility (McNeill & Winiwater, 2004). In what would
become the United States, some Native American tribes classified soils, and prescribed
different management techniques for different soils (Brevik et al., 2016). While it is true
that major civilizations fell due to rapid expansion and exhaustion of resources, humans
have continued to grow and develop, essentially changing the face of our planet. Even
today, much land on the Eurasian and African continents have been farmed since the
dawn of agriculture; in order to survive, humans had to learn how to adapt to the natural
cycling of nutrients above and belowground, and learned to not only exist, but thrive in
the ecosystems in which they inhabited (Bellwood, 2017).
In the United States, human expansion westward was in pursuit of new land, new
opportunity and new development. Since the Renaissance, the Western world has been in

8

perpetual pursuit of the new Frontier; utilizing and exhausting resources in one area and
taking land from other individuals to perpetuate this process (Montgomery, 2007). With
the help of modern science and historical inquiry, humans have begun to see the patterns
of previous civilizations and are beginning to recognize that we’ve reached the limit of
our pursuits (Doran & Zeiss, 2000).
Dating back 4,000 years in ancient Egypt and Sumar, plows were initially
branches used to scratch the soil’s surface; however, the first plows to actually rip
through the soil column were f utilized during the 17th century (Pryor, 1985). With the
invention of the cast iron moldboard plow by John Deere in the 19th century, a new form
of land conversion was underway; this allowed for the conversion of fertile but denselypacked soils of the Great Plains, perpetuate the continuation of Manifest Destiny to the
west (Montgomery, 2007). The fertile soils of the Great Plains were rich with organic
matter from plant and animal biomass accumulation, and their conversion to farmland
permitted became viewed as a seemingly inexhaustible natural resource for crop
production. As described by the U.S. Geological Survey in 1902, though, “The High
Plains, in short, are held by their sod”; this shows that early 20th century scientists
recognized that the conversion of grassland to agricultural land would result in the rapid
decomposition of organic matter, leading to deterioration of the soil (Montgomery, 2007).
The most well-known instance of soil degradation in American History is the windinduced erosion of the Great Plains in the 1930s, later referred to as the Dust Bowl;
however, other events including the destructive water erosion of the Badlands in
Mississippi in 1910 can also be described as events where human management was
unsustainable, and the demand for food outweighed the supply of the land, resulting in

9

fertile topsoil loss (Baumhardt et al., 2015). More recently, the post-World War II
conversion from an animal and crop residue nutrient base to a synthetic chemical nutrient
base has led to the excess application of synthetic fertilizers, particularly nitrogen,
phosphorus and potassium (Kvaløy, 2004; San Martin, 2017).
As tractors became more popular and new tillage implements were invented,
intensive tillage contributed to increased water and wind erosion (Montgomery, 2007).
This erosion contributes to the loss of excess nutrients into major above and belowground
water systems, resulting in eutrophication, the over-growth of algal blooms that create
hypoxic environments where life cannot exist (San Martin, 2017). The greatest example
in the United States is the massive dead zone in the Gulf of Mexico. Due to the leaching
of excess nutrients into the Mississippi River, approximately 8,776 square miles of the
Gulf of Mexico are uninhabitable by aquatic wildlife, disrupting not only the fishing
industry in the area, but the natural ecosystem processes (van Grinsven et al., 2014;
Gallegos, 2017).
These examples represent a continuation of the problem described by
Montgomery (2007); humans encounter a new frontier, utilize and exhaust the resources
of the newly discovered land, and the civilization either falls apart or the population
moves towards a new area to continue the cycle. A similar pattern can be discerned with
science and technology. As was the case with the invention of the moldboard plow, the
tractor and synthetic chemical fertilizers, the rapid adoption of these new discoveries and
technologies before their impacts on the land were fully understood resulted in large scale
soil and land degradation (Sears, 1935; Walker & Brown, 1936; Biel, 2016).
As previously discussed, farmers have inhabited the Eurasian and African continents for

10

thousands of years; they’ve learned how to adapt to the systems where they live, for the
most part, in order to survive. Many of these individuals did not do so in isolation,
though; particularly in the past 300 years, new technologies have assisted in the
maximization of their land for increased production and their continued survival on the
land (Hoffman et al., 2007; San Martin, 2017).

An Antebellum introduction and Land-Grant/extension formation

The true development of soil science as an academic field dates back to the postRevolutionary War America, where the inquiry into soils shifted to a more formal and
scholastic pursuit. Cohen (2010) argues that the early Republic or Antebellum Era of the
United States (1790s-1850s) are the origins of early soil science and geology as
established scientific fields. The author examined the contemporary rural press of the
time, records of regional agricultural societies, and state scientific surveys. For example,
to become a member of James Madison’s Agricultural Society of Albemarle, participants
were expected to conduct experiments on their own land, write a short report, and share
their findings with the group. These inquiries included: animal care, crop rotation
strategies, fertilizer use recommendations and other important agricultural pursuits
(Cohen, 2010). Through this analysis, the author identifies that the new ‘era of
systematic agriculture’ at this time was so pervasive, that the requirements of this new
agrarian lifestyle shaped the young nation’s political economy and policy (Cohen, 2010).
The early establishment of soil science as a field is deeply rooted in the relationship
between humans and the soil, and how to improve the health of the soil for human use.

11

Simultaneously, the German university model, which ‘exemplified the ideal of
pure learning, the disinterested pursuit of truth, knowledge for its own sake’ began to take
hold in the United States during the second half of the 19th century (O’Boyle, 1983, p. 3).
The ‘scientification’ of soil and agricultural sciences from the Antebellum movements
paired with this interest in higher learning resulted in the formation of land grant
universities in the second half of the 19th century. With the Morrill Act of 1862, “…each
state, which may take and claim the benefit of this act, to the endowment, support, and
maintenance of at least one college where the leading object shall be, without excluding
other scientific and classical studies, including military tactics, to teach such branches of
learning as are related to agriculture and the mechanic arts…” (Morrill Act, 1862).
Soil scientists, taught at the newly developed Land-Grant Universities, relied
heavily on farmer and land manager participation; soil surveyors and fertility experts had
direct and intensive contact with stakeholders, utilizing empirical interpretations for
suitable land usage based on practical experience (Bouma, 2018). As more information
was required to answer modern land use questions, quantitative inquiry and modeling
replaced farmer inquiry, and the dichotomy between the farmer and soil scientist began to
take shape.
McDowell (2003) argues that the allotment of 17,430,000 acres of land for
agricultural and mechanical arts-based universities signaled a shift in academia by
allowing the working classes to finally pursue higher education outside of aristocratic
intellectual pursuits; in addition, this signals an expansion in the scope of scholastic
inquiry to practically-applicable fields relevant to more end users. Through this
engagement, Land Grant universities provided a means to connect the creation of

12

knowledge and art with practical application in fields like agriculture that were not
previously viewed to be worthy of academic pursuit. While this was the anticipated
result of the formation of Land Grant universities, many students pursued higher
knowledge but did not return to the farm, and the goal of transmitting knowledge to
farmers and end users who did not attend university was not achieved. To reach end
users, the Cooperative Extension through the Smith-Lever Act of 1914 followed suit,
which provided federal government funding to disseminate knowledge created in the
universities to farmers and land managers (McDowell, 2003).
Some have argued that maintaining a purely practical-based emphasis unfounded
or disconnected from theoretical knowledge prevents a scientific field from creating
revolutionary change. While the Cooperative mandate facilitates the dissemination of
knowledge to end users, pressure rests on the shoulders of the agricultural sciences to not
only teach new students and farmers, but to also develop new agricultural knowledge
through basic research. According to McDowell (2003), the extension obligation
imposed by the agenda of the U.S. Department of Agriculture occupies between one-third
and one-half of faculty and research objectives. As explained by Fox et al. (1987), this
struggle for recognition and funding between applied and basic agricultural research in
some cases encouraged competition for recognition between the two fields, and
discouraged cooperation and collaboration. Other authors explain that the two fields
should not be mutually exclusive, but the pursuit of developing ‘knowledge for the sake
of knowledge’ within the basic sciences in tandem with the distribution of new science to
farmers and land managers through applied science deserve equal recognition and
funding (Fox et al., 1987; Oosterlinck et al., 2002). Nevertheless, since the formation of

13

Land Grant Universities in the mid-19th century, soil science has grappled to define itself
outside of the applied science realm.

Tension rises at the turn of the 20 century
th

The struggle between applied and basic science within the agricultural sector
continued well into the 20th century. Two authors express this dichotomous clash of
objectives: Dr. P.E. Brown, a professor of soil science at Iowa State University argues for
the enhancement of soil and agricultural sciences as a reputable basic science, and Paul
B. Sears, a botany professor at the University of Oklahoma, justifies the need for
continued applied research and work with land users and by providing the Dust Bowl Era
as an example. As an agricultural science professor at a Land Grant university, P.E.
Brown’s article published in Science entitled: The New Soil Science (1929) argues for the
need to look beyond practical application for soil science as a means to create true change
within the field itself. On the opposite scale, Paul B. Sears, one of the first ecologists on
the academic scene, explains in his book Deserts on the March (1935) that the problem of
soil erosion during the Dust Bowl was a result of careless land management with the
westward expansion of the United States. While the struggle for applied and basic
research persisted into the 20th century, it is unclear why the agricultural sciences do not
recognize that applied and basic research are not mutually exclusive, and the
development of one is reliant on the success of the other (Fox et al., 1987).

14

As explained by Brown, soil science originated out of applicable necessity, as
with most sciences, because of the “struggle by man toward the utilization of nature”
(1929, p. 619). But in his manifesto, Brown asserts that “there is an even more powerful
source than use in bringing about the evolution of sciences. It is the unconscious struggle
of our natures for the acquisition of abstract knowledge or for the discovery of the laws of
phenomena” (Brown, 1929, p. 619). The author then asserts that complex classification
systems must be formulated in order to differentiate one soil from another, and to manage
each soil based on its specific characteristics. Soils, he argues, are no longer purely a
medium for plant cultivation and crop production but are studied as an individual entity
within themselves. Through soil classification, analyses of vegetationk, environmental
conditions, geological formation, and transport (among other formative processes), the
‘new soil science’ has the objective to answer specific questions for each soil type; in so
doing, the soils may then be managed properly to meet the needs of the soil and the plants
they grow (Brown, 1929).
This shift in the investigation of soils suggests that soil scientists wanted to
establish the field as a reputable basic science. By ‘adding to the sum total of human
knowledge’ and contributing to the ‘establishment of the principles and laws of soil
science’, soil science could be recognized as possessing a theoretical basis and could then
be recognized as a real science (Brown, 1929, p. 621). As mentioned earlier, this was of
significant value, for each soil could be treated and managed to its particular
specifications. This separation of the ‘new soil science’, away from soil examination
purely for human application, would widen the divide between farmers and soil scientists
(Ingram et al., 2010). Within scientific inquiry, more questions are raised than answered;

15

although valuable new information is frequently found and recorded, the disconnect still
exists with the application of these revolutionary ideas (Fox et al., 1987). Dr. P.E. Brown
envisioned that the ‘new soil science’ would be “definitely and indisputably
agriculturally practical” (1929, p. 620); however, as will be discussed in detail later, the
deductive model scientific inquiry does not align with how farmers acquire and
disseminate knowledge.
Around the same time as P.E. Brown’s call for a new soil science, Paul Sears, an
ecologist and botanist at the University of Oklahoma, was calling attention to the rapid
degradation of land and soil throughout the American landscape. The author describes
the development of agricultural civilizations throughout history, explaining that most
follow a similar trajectory: first, humans inhabit and farm in valleys with fertile, rich soil.
As nutrients are extracted without being returned, the soils become depleted of nutrients,
and are rendered useless. Humans then move to the uplands where forests are cleared;
this results lumber for further development, fresh soil, and more fertile mud moves
downstream to re-fertilize the valley soils.
The author explains that this model is not sustainable, and cites the fall of a
number of civilizations, including the Mayans and Romans due to the disregard to the
laws of nature.
“The laws which govern the development of soil and vegetation are as inescapable as the
laws of conservation of energy and of matter upon which they are based. No matter how
complex or seemingly mysterious the operations of the organic world, they are still based
upon cause and effect. It is as impossible to get something for nothing as it is to make
water run uphill. If man destroys the balance and equilibrium demanded by nature, he must
take the consequences. There is no magic which will undo the mischief he has wrought”
(Sears, 1935, p. 67)

16

The author considers the Dust Bowl, and how intensive mechanical agriculture has
disrupted this natural cycle of inputs and outputs. The result being millions of acres of
soil degradation to wind and water erosion, and the further encroachment of humans onto
the most sensitive lands.
The author states that, ‘the picture we have seen is not one of utilization and
adjustment, but of exploitation and waste’ (Sears, 1935, p. 142). While many would
argue that decreasing ownership towards a commons model would encourage soil
conservation, the author asserts that, ‘…it is human nature for a man to take better care of
his property than of another’s, provided that he has been trained to do so’ (Sears, 1935, p.
150). To move from this model, the author suggests increasing education and
information dispersal to all vested groups, with an emphasis on young adults; he argues
that county and extension workers have worked to stave off total destruction of our lands
but believes that ‘there is too much emphasis on detail, and not enough on policy’ (Sears,
1935, p. 151). He also proposes that taxation and incentivization are surefire methods to
increase soil and land conservation.
Sears then considers the role of scientific development in soil conservation,
arguing that scientific development can be both useful and dangerous.
“Sometimes, but by no means always, the man of science can control the thing he is
examining, and thus learn its behavior under special circumstances. This he calls an
experiment. Often, he is obliged to take apart whatever it is he is learning about. This he
calls analysis. If the thing is very simple, he can put it back together, as a child might do
with a block puzzle… What is true of the simplest plant or animal is infinitely more true
for man and of society. The delicate interplay of motives, the clash of desires, and the
seemingly spontaneous growth of culture patterns, so like the irresistible, rhythmic process
of birth—all of these involve matters which defy the relatively simple language of science,
even when science affixes names to them!”
(Sears, 1935, pgs. 157-158).

17

Here, it is clear that Sears warns against the over-simplification of reducing biological
systems to a sum of their parts. In addition, he calls on scientists to seek out more social
involvement and effective means of publication to successfully diffuse their findings
throughout society.
Interestingly, changing social and climatic conditions during the Dust Bowl Era
shifted P.E. Brown’s focus somewhat towards application, aligning more closely with
Sear’s call for applied scientific inquiry. In 1936, P.E. Brown and R.H. Walker published
their findings from a soil erosion survey throughout Iowa conducted in 1934. The
authors found that only 87% of the land was affected by soil erosion, and that at least
40% of the land surveyed was over 50% degraded due to erosion. According to the
authors contributing factors to soil erosion included: rainfall distribution and intensity;
land topography; soil texture, type and characteristics; and management (Walker &
Brown, 1936). During this time, the authors recommend that farmers grow ‘non-tilled
and pasture crops at regular and frequent intervals, to reforest steep and broken areas, and
build up the organic matter content of the soil’ among other recommendations (Walker &
Brown, 1936). While the need to alter management practices to prevent soil degradation
and conserve natural resources is highlighted, the steps necessary for both agricultural
scientists and farmers in order to facilitate this shift is not described.
Both Brown and Sears are aware of the need to change management practices to
prevent soil erosion, and both believe that a shift of focus towards either basic (Brown,
1929) or applied (Sears 1935) science will lead to the improvement of the opposing
scientific inquiry. Brown’s declaration of A New Soil Science (1929) represents a shift
away from creating change through practical application; in so doing, he argues that the

18

knowledge will naturally be transferred to land managers since the extension system is
already in place. Sears, on the other hand, not only stresses the need to change
management practices in the future but prescribes a means to do so: educate the masses,
enact relevant and useful policy, and encourage scientists to play a role in the
communication of their intellectual findings. While both scientists take a different
approach, the two agree that either applied or basic science are not mutually exclusive;
while they argue in favor of one form or the other, other authors have found that the
success of one is dependent upon the success of the other, and that investment and
funding in both basic and applied science is necessary for the development of any
scientific field. (Oosterlinck et al., 2002).

The Green Revolution and Productivism
As previously described, farmers and agricultural scientists were beginning to
realize the limitations of intensive tillage in agriculture as was observed during the Dust
Bowl. The recurrent export of nutrients as crops with no nutrient replenishment was not
a model that could feed the world’s growing population; this resulted in the degradation
of large amounts of originally fertile land throughout the country (Sears, 1935; Walker &
Brown, 1936). In the realm of soil science, the synthesis of atmospheric nitrogen (N2)
gas into a usable form for plant uptake (either ammonia (NH3), or a combination of
ammonia-nitrate (NH4NO3) was first pioneered by a chemist by the name of Fritz Haber,
winning him the Nobel Prize in 1918 (Science History Institute, 2017.).
The mass production of synthetically derived fertilizers was perceived by many to
be the answer to meet the food demands of the growing global human population (Biel,
2016). After World War II, interest in global agricultural production increased, but not
19

under the guise of providing aid to impoverished farmers in the global South. At this
time, the World Health Organization (WHO) and many developed countries recognized
Malthusian fears of increased population with a subsequent increased demand for food
and believed that current agricultural production was unable to meet these demands
(Kvaløy, 2004). The Green Revolution was not only motivated by an ‘altruistic’ need to
meet the demands of an increasing population in the global south, but also as a political
strategy to prevent the rise of Communism in these areas (Kvaløy ,2004). According to
San Martin (2017), agricultural development and the use of synthetic fertilizers were
viewed as a tool to combat the rise of Communism. “Cold War politics understood
agricultural production, technologies, and agrarian reforms as central to the development
of better social and economic conditions in the countryside… the Feeding the World
argument [as defined by the Rockefeller Center’s Mexican Agricultural Program in 1951]
is in part the product of the ideological framework which understood food access and
agricultural production as a critical dimension of international relations during the Cold
War” (San Martin, 2017, p. 782).
As a result, global spending on agricultural and soil research sky-rocketed in the
1960s and 1970s, and the Green Revolution was upon the world. Regardless of what
factor contributed to the rise of the Green Revolution, soil and agricultural sciences
experienced a golden era of funding and research in light of this emphasis on agricultural
development (McDowell, 2003). Through international institutions like the Consultative
Group in International Agricultura Research (CGIAR), funding for research on the three
main cereal crops (wheat, maize and rice) during the first part of the Green Revolution
was around $13 billion (Pingali, 2012). In addition, synthetic Nitrogen fertilizer

20

increased by 366% from 1961 to 1988, and a 759% increase from 2013 to 1961. The
mass-production and widespread use of genetically modified seeds as well as synthetic
fertilizers have tripled the amounts of cereal crops produced annually with only a 30%
increase in land use change in the past 50 years. Without the new technological
advancements of the latter half of the 20th century, the food supply could only support
half of the population today (San Martin, 2017).
This emphasis on agricultural production by increased mechanization, decreased
labor, and increased synthetic inputs has also been referred to as Productivist agriculture.
What was once a natural system of nutrient loops and flows then became a means to feed
a growing population, transforming natural complex biological systems into simplified
machines with the purpose of increasing production (Biel, 2016). Wilson provides a
formal definition, stating that Productivist agriculture is “…a commitment to an
intensive, industrially-driven expansionist agriculture with state support based primarily
on output and increased productivity” (2001, 78). Within agricultural production, the
industrialization, commercialization, specialization and increase in corporate involvement
are all typical of the Productivist model. It is interesting to note that within Productivism,
agriculture ideologically upholds a central hegemonic position in rural society. In
addition, “Food regimes during the Productivist era are… characterized by mass
consumption of agricultural commodities, the expansion of world food trade in a rapidly
growing capitalist market, and the adoption of Fordist regimes of agricultural production’
(Wilson, 2001, p. 79).
Whether as a means to combat Communism or a truly altruistic mission to end
world hunger, the technological advancements of the 20th century provided food and fiber

21

for an exponentially increasing population. But at what cost? According to San Martin
(2017), the overuse of synthetic N fertilizers results in losses of up to 60% of applied N,
creating pollution in above and belowground bodies of water, coastal ecosystems and
watersheds through eutrophication. In addition, the energy-intensive production of
synthetic fertilizers has increased greenhouse gas emissions by an average of 3.9%
between the years 1961 and 2010. Interestingly, during the first wave of the Green
Revolution (1960s-1980s), large amounts of funding were provided for agricultural
development; however, much of that investment has waned in the last 20 years (Pingali,
2012).
Although many of these schools still offer ‘colleges of agriculture’, the original
emphasis, to primarily teach agriculture and mechanical arts, has nearly fallen to the
wayside. As more U.S. citizens began attending college, and as the economy grew and
changed, Land Grant universities shifted their focus to higher sciences and unfortunately
some have little agricultural identity today (McDowell, 2003). And as the emphasis in
many of these Land Grant universities has shifted away from agricultural and soil science
in favor of other academic pursuits, the funding and research in support of those fields
has descreased significantly. One can discern a similar pattern at the turn of the 20th
century, where education and outreach for agricultural sciences in Land Grant
universities stagnated, and interest in the past twenty years in the field either through
applied or basic scientific means waned. A call for a New Soil Science, as identified by
both Brown (1929) and Sears (1935) is upon us yet again.
At a time when human-induced soil degradation has reduced the ‘productive
capacity’ of soils by 40% due to erosion, pollution, soil cultivation, over-grazing, land

22

clearing, salinization and desertification, funding and interest in research and academic
institutions specifically oriented toward soil science and sustainable agriculture was at an
all-time low at the turn of the 21st century (Doran, 2002). Hartemink & McBratney
(2008) compared the funding, total number of scientists and research publications in the
major scientific journals (Science and Nature) that were devoted to soils with all other
scientific pursuits from 1993 to 2007. Interestingly, the authors found that 0.5% of all
publications in Nature and Science were devoted to soils; that less than 1% of total global
research and development funding was granted to soil science projects (€3.2 billion
toward soil science and €3.2 trillion total); and finally, that 0.5% of all scientific
researchers are soil scientists (16,000 compared to 4 million). Even so, Hartemink &
McBratney (2008) argue that a soil science renaissance is upon us, and that renewed
interest in the field can be discerned by an increased trend in research publications and
other academic endeavors.
At the turn of the 21st century, the call for the development of both applied and
basic scientific inquiry within agricultural sciences resurfaced. J.W. Doran (2002), a
famous soil scientist from the University of Nebraska who played a major role in defining
soil quality, called for a shift away from the increased crop yield and production model of
the Green Revolution; instead, the author suggests scientists orient towards a focus on
sustainable management where yields are maintained with minimal impacts on the
environment. The author argues that it is the responsibility of soil and agricultural
scientists to create strategies for sustainable management that enable producers to
maintain soil health and improve the overall ecosystem; however, purely defining
indicators and identifying management practices is not enough. Scientists and farmers

23

exist in separate realms, they acquire and communicate knowledge differently, and
sometimes, they have different objectives. It is the responsibility of both groups to
understand these differences, forge relationships, and align their goals in order to prevent
further degradation and improve soil health on a global scale.

Researchers in agricultural and soil sciences
As previously described, soil and agricultural scientists have revolutionized
agriculture in a number of ways. In addition to the substantial strides made in the 20th
century discussed previously, over a century of scientific analysis has allowed soil and
agricultural scientists to classify soil characteristics, understand soil-forming processes,
define indicators of soil quality and health, and understand how they can benefit
ecosystems and humanity. Not only have they helped farmers to increase food and fiber
production globally, but they have greatly informed our understanding of the chemical,
physical and biological parameters that make up the soil2. This section describes ways in
which soil and agricultural scientists have improved our understanding of soil-plant
relationships, suggests areas of future development within these realms, and explains
what the STI mode of learning looks like in practice. While the contributions to
agricultural development will be highlighted, it is also essential to explore how the
scientific model has nearly silenced other modes of learning, and that the reduction of
biological systems to the sum of their parts has been shown to lead to environmental and
ecosystem degradation.

2

24

For a detailed description of these parameters, see: The Soil Itself, p. 57

Evaluating the quality, health, functions and services of soils
Pedology, or the study of soils in their natural form, involves a number of subdisciplines to explain their origin and formation. Pedogenesis and soil morphology
define the formative and transformative characteristics of soils, while soil surveys are
conducted to describe the landscape of soils along with creating a classification system.
These pedological collections are then used to interpret a soil’s properties for the optimal
management and use of the land (Singer, 2015). According to Hartemink (2015), it is
essential to classify soils for two reasons: 1) because without it, the knowledge would be
‘factual chaos’ without a codified system, and 2) it enables soil scientists to understand
the interactions among and between soils within specific locations, thereby allowing soil
scientists to predict behaviors of soils with similar characteristics.
The classification of soils is a necessary first step in fully understanding their
basic characteristics; however, according to Bouma et al. (2015), taxonomies lack
functional analysis of soils. Therefore, establishing indicators of soil quality allows soil
scientists and other stakeholders to evaluate a soil for specific uses; these indicators
include a whole host of variables, but can be grouped into three main categories:
physical, chemical and biological. In addition, assessing soils based on abiotic, biotic
and functional parameters may add further insight into the quality of a given soil (Vincent
et. al., 2018). The overarching definition of soil quality, as established by Doran and
Parkin (1994): “the capacity of a soil to function within ecosystem and land-use
boundaries to sustain biological productivity, maintain environmental quality, and
promote plant and animal health”. This broadens the emphasis of soil and agricultural
sciences beyond the simplified goal to increase production commonly upheld during the

25

Green Revolution (also referred to as Productivist agriculture); although plant production
is a facet of soil function, it should also be managed in such a way to minimize air and
water pollution, and to promote plant, animal (and consequently human) health.
Recent decades have indicated a shift towards valuing soil quality as a facet of
ecosystem functions and services. As defined by Costanza et al. (1997), “ecosystem
services consist of flows of materials, energy, and information from natural capital stocks
which combine with manufactured and human capital services to produce human welfare
(whether directly or indirectly)” (pg. 254). Scientists utilize soil quality as a means to
evaluate how healthy soils function in an ecosystem, since they are a fundamental
component of most terrestrial ecosystems. For example, Bouma et al. (2015) identified
the eight 8 ecosystem services provided by soil; examples include: biomass production,
storing, filtering and transforming nutrients, as well as a physical and cultural
environment for humans and their activities.
In addition, Buneman et al. (2018) categorizes these services into three groups:
soil threats, functions, and services, and then diagrammatically represents how these three
sectors are inter-connected.

A threat like erosion relates to the soil functions habitat

provision, element cycling, soil structure maintenance, and water cycling; these are then
related to such ecosystem services as biomass production, biodiversity conservation and
consequently, erosion control (Buneman et al., 2018)3. By defining these functions and
connecting them to relevant threats and ecosystem services, soil scientists are then able to
situate their research in a relevant framework for continued research.

3

26

See Table 6, Appendix, p. 344

As approaches to soil and land evaluation evolve, it is the responsibility of the soil
science community to create systems for soil quality analysis that maintain an
ecosystem’s ability to function, minimize soil threats, and appeal to the stakeholders and
end users responsible for carrying out practices that maintain soil quality. Buneman et al.
(2018) examined 62 published articles with 65 minimum data sets for soil quality
analysis. The areas of emphasis for most studies included the ease of sampling and the
indicators’ sensitivity to management changes. The most frequently utilized indicators
analyzed chemical components of the soil; total organic matter, carbon and pH were the
most frequently cited indicators, but others of note included: available phosphorus and
potassium, total nitrogen, electrical conductivity, cation exchange capacity, and mineral
nitrogen (Buneman et al., 2018). Although cited occasionally, biological and
biochemical indicators were less frequently measured when compared to physical and
chemical indicators.
The author calls for a shift in the focus of soil science towards: 1) conceiving of soil
quality as part of a complex matrix of quality assessment and adaptation systems; 2)
recognizing novel tools in soil quality assessment that support ecological agriculture; 3)
re-orienting towards a ‘fundamental system re-design’ through regenerative agriculture;
and 4) working towards achieving societal goals like the UN’s SDGs to ‘stress the
importance of [improving] soil quality’ for the betterment of society (Buneman et al.,
2018, pg. 107). Although the authors call for a realignment of goals in the field towards
societal objectives, their conclusions do not suggest methods to increase outreach or
education of new or optimal soil quality indicators to land managers, or the public in
general. Nevertheless, considering what scientists what the other soil and agricultural

27

scientists believe the future of soil science should be will provide insight into the
objectives of the field in general.

Future of soil science inquiry
Buneman et al. (2018) prescribed novel soil quality indicators that require
continued research. According to the study, biological indicators are the most responsive
to immediate management changes, and as ‘canaries in the coal mine’, would accurately
represent the effectiveness of management changes on a shorter timeline (Buneman et al.,
2018). In addition, the authors discussed other novel indicators that should be further
developed, like the more active/labile pools of organic matter that are also sensitive to
change, as well as the technological advancement of soil sensing through in-the-field or
laboratory analysis by means of near-infrared spectroscopy, electrical conductivity
monitors, and x-ray tomography that give three-dimensional images of the soil structure
(Buneman et al., 2018). The following section explores where the soil science literature
in general hopes to focus its research efforts in the near future; interestingly, the same
tension between applied and basic science discussed previously can be observed.

Soil biology
When comparing natural ecosystems with managed agricultural systems, the
internal regulation of above and belowground nutrient and carbon flows are drastically
different. Natural controls present in undisturbed ecosystems are significantly
compromised on cultivated land, and the manipulation of ecosystemic processes within
the soil drastically limits the above and belowground biodiversity, thus making
agricultural soil dependent external inputs and human management (Barrios, 2007).
Recognizing the role played by soil flora and fauna may be the crux to the issue of

28

sustainable soil management. Through basic scientific inquiry, microbiologists and soil
ecologists are beginning to scratch the surface of biological aspect of the soil which,
“encompass[es] the collective biomass and activities of soil dwelling organisms”
(Lehman et al,. 2015, p. 993). The authors argue that: “the pathway for mitigation and
even reclamation of degraded soil is through an increased emphasis on research and
education [of soil biology]” (Lehman et al., 2015, p. 995).
According to Barrios (2007), it is essential to study soil flora and fauna because of
their high diversity and widely variable distribution across soil matrix; however, due to
this complexity, it is difficult to know where to even begin. Lehman et al. (2015)
discusses gaps in research and areas of highest priority in order to improve soil health and
in turn reduce soil degradation. These include: genetic identification, understanding
biological activities and interactions, ecological processes taking place, and the
relationship between specific biomes and their relationship with aboveground plant
communities. This barely scratches the surface of what is required of soil biological
inquiry, but it provides a starting place. From a basic scientific perspective, we may
better understand what soil ecosystems support healthy and productive crops, and how
aboveground diversity can aid the healthy development of these communities.
While the need for basic scientific inquiry into soil biology has been well defined,
very little research has considered what farmers know about soil biology, and what they
need to know to manage the health of their soils. While the topic of farmers’ knowledge
will be covered in great detail later in this review Bennett et al. (1999) found that from a
sample size of 14 farmers in New Zealand, these individuals had little or no
understanding of biological health indicators such as microbial biomass. While other

29

studies have found farmers have a wealth of understanding of larger soil biota like
earthworms (Zuniga et al., 2013), their understanding of complex soil microbiological
processes is lacking, largely because these organisms are not visible with the human eye
(Grossman, 2003). In addition, Pauli (2016) found that few publications overlap between
soil biology and the social sciences, indicating a need for soil and agricultural scientists
to bridge this gap and inform farmers of complex soil biological process. Research into
the application of these sciences is necessary to further the development of agricultural
scientific inquiry in general.

Soil carbon and organic matter
There is more organic carbon found in the soil than in terrestrial vegetation and
the atmosphere combined (Lehmann and Kleber, 2015). While organic matter will be
discussed in further detail later, the relationship between soil organisms, organic matter,
and the total soil C pool is an area of extreme importance. In addition, many farmers
express having the greatest knowledge of this soil component, and this can therefore
serve as a starting-point for creating connections between farmers and scientists, further
integrating both applied and basic sciences (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002; D’Hose et
al., 2014; de Souza Mello Bicalho & dos Guimaraes Peixoto, 2016). Much literature
exists on the accumulation and decomposition of organic matter in both fresh and very
dead forms (Bot & Benites, 2005; Fenton et al., 2008; Stockmann et al., 2013) others);
however, as research into decomposing organic material delves deeper, theories we
assumed to hold true are now under debate. Because of the massive size of the global C
pool and the complex biomes within the soil, knowledge gaps within both labile (freshly

30

decayed) and recalcitrant (decomposition resistant) forms of organic matter must be
better understood (Lehmann and Kleber, 2015; Buneman et al., 2018).
For example, Lehmann and Kleber (2015) state that the previously upheld
theories concerning humic substances (highly resistant to decay and essential for the
holding and transport of nutrients) are nearly archaic, and as the knowledge base of soil
biology broadens, our investigation of highly decomposed and recalcitrant material
should be re-considered as well. This of course has implications for the measurement
and modeling of a soil’s capacity to sequester C, since a major push for improving
degraded soils is for its potential to not only prevent the release of CO2 into the
atmosphere through degradative practices, but to also potentially sequester C from the
atmosphere, thereby combatting climate change (find sources). As previously mentioned,
because our understanding of SOM in its various forms of decomposition is not wellunderstood, our methods for modeling potential C sequestration are lacking. Stockmann
et al. (2013) proposes that efforts should focus on models that link physical and
biological processes through time; in so doing, our understanding of the functions of soil
C will develop. As our understanding of soil organic matter within a basic scientific
context grows, scientists should therefore aim to communicate this new knowledge as an
applied field, increasing the knowledge and understanding farmers possess concerning
organic matter.

Technological development
Soil sensing from a variety of spatial scales is necessary to further our
understanding of the biological, physical and chemical processes taking place below our
feet. En situ observations, like Visual Soil Evaluation (VSE) have been proposed to

31

further the understanding of physical properties like soil structure (Guimaraes et al.
2017). Through a thorough analysis of the available literature, the authors suggest that
VSE can be used over varying temporal scales to evaluate the effects of land use and soil
management on soil; in order to recognize the full potential of this method, integrating
VSE with other soil properties has the potential to create a more holistic understanding of
a piece of land. The integration of this method with remote and wireless sensing
technologies can help fill the gaps in our understanding as well.
Also referred to as precision agriculture, the incorporation of remote sensing and
geospatial analytics can also be summarized as: “the use of [information technology] IT
applications to electronically monitor soil and crop conditions and to target the treatment
with high [a] level of detail” (Aubert et al., 2012, p. 510). While the development of this
new technology through basic scientific inquiry is of value, it is necessary to understand
how to encourage the adoption of new technology by farmers. Problems arise due to the
expensive initial investment required for new technology by farmers and has been shown
to encourage the corporatization of small-scale farmers into larger and fewer
conglomerates (Gaemelke, 2001). In addition, Aubert et al. (2012) found that issues with
compatibility arose with the widespread adoption of precision agriculture by Canadian
farmers due to the importance of farmer’s expertise in the new technology4. Therefore,
applied research efforts should orient towards increasing farmer adoption by maintaining
low costs and providing education and outreach.
Through satellite imaging and spectral analysis, remote sensing procedures are
capable of mapping vegetative cover, and offer a cheap and effective method to analyze
4

For more information on the role of experience and adoption of new practices in farmers’ groups, see
the “Farmers: the creation and dissemination of tacit knowledge” section.

32

areas of soil degradation. Through “a review of the application of remote sensing
technology on soil erosion”, Sepuru & Dube (2018, p. 2) found remote sensing to be the
most effective method for mapping soil erosion due to the scale, effectiveness and costefficiency. The authors recognized shortcomings with this method in the form of ‘low
spectral resolution’ from previous models but affirmed that newer satellite technology
and improved data imaging will fill theses gaps in the future (Sepuru & Dube, 2018).
On a smaller scale, Burgess et al. (2010) tested the efficacy of a wireless sensor
network on its ability to satisfy the needs of forest and agricultural researchers. The three
benefits suggested by the authors include: “improved experimental design via flexible
equipment deployment, improved monitoring access in logistically challenging
environments, and increased density of observations for better validation of models and
hypotheses” (p. 30). Burgess et al. (2010) found the system to be flexible with other
sensing operations, but challenges arose with too much variability in sustainable power
sources and the complexity of software programs beyond the scope of computer
scientists.
New technologies as defined as Precision Agriculture have been shown to:
improve total plant nutrients, assess and monitor water infiltration and retention for
specific plants, optimize pesticide and fertilizer applications, and monitor plant and crop
health from both a micro- to geospatial scale (Gaemelke, 2001; Aubert et al., 2012).
More research into the application of such technologies is necessary in order to truly
improve the efficient use of both nutrients and water, as well as improve overall crop and
soil health.

33

Transdisciplinary research
As previously discussed, soil science has its roots in both geological and
agricultural sciences. However, during the 21st century, soil science developed as a subdiscipline of agricultural sciences, and most research efforts within the field were
explored in an agricultural capacity, as a means for improving crop production and health
(Wilding & Lin, 2006). Managing soil strictly for crop production and health puts a
narrow focus on the field itself; as previously discussed, this has limited the amount of
funding, new student interest, and subsequent research development within soil science
(McDowell, 2003; Wilding & Lin 2006).
A number of publications have called for a Soil Science Renaissance, signifying a
need for a shift on the research emphasis of the field (Hartemink & McBratney, 2008).
Interdisciplinary research is therefore necessary in order to expand the field into a
relevant earth science discipline. Reminiscent of the call for A New Soil Science
proposed by P.E. Brown (1929), authors in this section recognize that in order to stay
relevant and receive funding, transdisciplinary research for basic scientific pursuits will
increase the knowledge base of soil and agricultural sciences. This new interdisciplinary
approach should not be limited to ‘higher’ sciences, but within the realm of social
sciences as well. By taking a sociological approach, fields similar to ethnopedology
(understanding local soil knowledge) and rural sociology (the exploration of social issues
in a rural context) will grant many physical, soil and agricultural scientists a better
awareness of ways to increase outreach and education through applied sciences (Dawoe
et al. 2012, Winklerprins & Sandor 2003).

34

I will consider two articles that call for inter- and transdisciplinary research in the
field. Bouma et al. (2015) considers the UN’s Sustainable Development goals and how
the interdisciplinary research of soil ecosystem services can meet these goals; Wilding
and Lin (2006) describe the need to consider soil science through a bio- and geo-science
lens and propose that as a part of the Critical Zone, research into hydropedology may
prove critical to other Earth Science fields, therefore showing the validity and importance
of the inquiry into Soil Science. Considering soil science as the fundamental media for
terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems and conducting research as that accurately represents
its crucial role will propel soil science research into the future.
The Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) as outline by the UN’s Development
Programme are a ‘universal call to action to end poverty, protect the planet and ensure
that all people enjoy peace and prosperity’ (UNDP, 2018). In order to position soil
science as a relevant field deserving of further scientific inquiry, Bouma et al. (2015)
considered the 7 soil functions that offer direct ecosystem services in conjunction with
the 17 UN SDGs5. Through their consideration of six case studies in the Netherlands and
Italy, the authors evaluated the role of soil science in inter- and transdisciplinary research
in order to justify the further advancement of the field itself. Only one of the six interand transdisciplinary case studies provided sufficient soil science knowledge, and no
further development in research was necessary. The objective of this study was to show
the validity of further scientific inquiry into soil science, and how it can help meet the
SDGs through its various ecosystem services. This article posits that soil science is a

5

See Table 6, Appendix, p. 344

35

valuable tool within inter- and transdisciplinary research and should continue to advance
in conjunction with other fields to meet the SDGs described above.
Similarly to Bouma et al. (2015), Wilding & Lin (2006) seek to justify the
development of soil science to meet inter- and transdisciplinary needs. This author takes
these efforts a step further by emphasizing the need to consider soil science outside of an
agricultural science, but as a part of general Earth Sciences. The authors describe the
pedosphere, the surface layer of the Earth where soil forming processes take place, as a
central facet to the Critical Zone, the portion of the earth’s surface that also encompasses
the atmosphere, biosphere and lithosphere (Wilding & Lin, 2006). The authors not only
describe the important role that the soil itself plays in a functioning ecosystem, but also
posit that soil scientists, those that understand the complex interactions taking place
within the pedosphere, are a multi-faceted group with value not only in agriculture, but
also environmental, ecological, bio- and geo-sciences.
Wilding & Lin (2006) argue for the further development of a specific field that
represents the pivotal role played by soil science. Hydropedology, the amalgamation of
soil and hydrological sciences, offers a more holistic take on pedological inquiry, (which
was previously discussed). Through the study of water, soil, and rock interactions,
hydropedology focuses on ‘flow and transport processes in en situ soil systems as
landscape bodies’ (Wilding & Lin, 2006, p. 266). Not only does it incorporate pedology,
soil physics and hydrology, it also encompasses other Earth science realms like
geomorphology, geology, geography, hydrogeology, hydroclimatology, ecohydrology,
biology, as well as other areas within soil science (Wilding & Lin 2006).

36

In order to assert its relevance within the Earth Sciences, such inter- and transdisciplinary justifications are essential for the continued growth and support of soil
science. By showing the relevance of soil science in this lens, the field can secure
funding, encourage new student interest, and increase the overall advancement of the
field itself. As discussed throughout this section, though, investment for purely basic
scientific development is inadequate to meet the needs of the changing environment;
increased outreach and education to farmers and land managers is necessary, and through
a transdisciplinary lens, efforts to increase relationships with social scientists is necessary
for the enhancement of agricultural and soil sciences in general.
This section considers how soil and agricultural scientists envision the expansion
of their respective fields in the near future. By continuing research into soil biology,
organic matter accumulation and decomposition, new technology, and transdisciplinary
research, the soil and agricultural sciences will continue to garner more respect within the
physical sciences in general. Maintaining the integrity of the applied research aspect of
these fields is essential, though, and effectively communicating new developments to end
users should be a priority as well.

Science, technology and innovation
This section identifies scientists as the science, technology and innovation (STI)
mode of learning, and explains how knowledge is created and disseminated within the
academic sphere. Scientists typically live in urban environments, specialize in one field,
and focus their inquiry on analysis and theoretical development (Hoffman et al., 2007).
Many follow a reductionist research model upheld by formal researchers to develop
universally applicable theories and laws; however, these all-encompassing laws don’t

37

typically take into account the heterogeneity of local environments where farmers and
land managers inhabit (Biel, 2016). Hoffman et al. (2007) describe the knowledge
created within scientific communities as explicit, since it is easily transcribed and
recorded in text and visual accounts and is communicated through publications and
conferences. Explicit knowledge is easily codified and replicable; re-emphasizing the
point that scientific knowledge aims to be applied universally.
Jensen et al. (2007) describe the scientific mode of learning as Science,
Technology and Innovation (STI), an epistemology based on the use of codified scientific
and technological knowledge, which seeks to address the ‘know-why’ question as
opposed to the ‘know-who’ and ‘know-how’ practiced farming communities. Ingram et
al. (2010) believe that the ‘deep view’ upheld by soil scientists orients them towards
isolated soil characteristics, like individual nutrients or soil structure in a singular form.
Scientific knowledge is thought to be ‘codified and institutionally legitimate’; it is a clear
understanding which can be classified, described, written and transferred within
academia” (Norgaard, 1984). Scientific contributions are indirect, providing guidance
and clues for further exploration, as well as prioritizing innovation and new ways of
thinking (Jensen et al., 2007).
According to Bouma (2018), traditional scientific knowledge is primarily limited
to scientific institutions and is structured by scientific disciplines. This applies to the soil
science community at large, where institutions conduct soil and crop research that does
not always ‘trickle down’ for use by farmers and land managers or takes too much time to
reach the end users. In agricultural and soil sciences, scientists trust that through the
‘Research and Design Continuum’, extension services in rural communities will

38

communicate this knowledge to famers; however, outsider innovation is not always
welcomed by farmer groups, and many farmers accept new information from trusted
sources, like other farmers, neighbors, or people they know (Hoffman et al., 2007).6 This
can be problematic, especially if new and relevant research can replace old practices and
can help mitigate or eliminate environmental degradation.

The dominance of the scientific model in agriculture
Soil Science as a field has vastly informed our understanding of the natural
processes taking place below our feet and has the potential to provide useful information
to a variety of disciplines; however, much new information does not ‘trickle down’ to end
users until environmental degradation has already happened (Biel, 2016). This can be
discerned through a lag in understanding from the point of view of the end users
concerning complex chemical processes. For example, recent research has found that
when applying manure to meet nitrogen demands, excess amounts of phosphorus can be
applied, increasing the risk of eutrophication into waterways (Tomer et al., 2016). These
over-application of nutrients on a large scale can result in massive dead zones, like the
one found in the Gulf of Mexico (van Grinsven et al., 2014). These consequences
represent of how a lack of understanding on the part of end users can lead to
environmental degradation (Ingram, 2008).
Due to the emphasis of basic scientific development, it may appear that academia
withholds valuable information, or does not facilitate the successful transmission of
knowledge to end-users (Ingram et al., 2010). In addition, Biel (2016) and Kloppenburg
(1991) argue that the pursuit of ‘dominating nature’ through science and technology has

6

For more information on this topic, see the ‘Trust in Internal and External Groups’ section that follows

39

silenced other forms of thinking, and what can be perceived as a hegemonic dominance
over other forms of knowledge; only until recently are other forms of knowledge and
modes of thinking earning credit (Jensen et al., 2007; Ingram et al., 2010). It is true that
the scientific model of reducing biological systems to a sum of their parts has vastly
informed our understanding of soils and other biological systems; however, issues arise
because other forms of knowledge have not been valued historically, and only one
perspective has earned credit when considering biological systems (Kloppenburg, 1991;
Carolan, 2005; Biel, 2016).
The Cartesian method of reductionism has, until recently, been upheld as the best
mode of knowledge useful in defining the natural world (Kloppenburg 1991; Biel 2016).
As a field that has struggled to define itself as worthy of funding and scientific
development, soil science has fallen prey to this trap; in order to receive funding and
interest from prospective students, and to grab the attention of the academic world in
general, soil science has sought to define itself as a higher science within its own right,
not just as the study of soil as a medium for crop growth (Harteminck & McBratney,
2008). In so doing, soil scientists are trying to separate themselves further from modes of
experience-based knowledge, as are most commonly upheld in farming communities
(Jensen et al., 2007). While science has sought to create universally applicable models
and methods, within natural sciences, and agricultural sciences in particular, this method
has proven to gloss over the complexity of each local ecosystem and prescribes ideals and
methods that may work within a laboratory setting but may not always work in many
real-world scenarios (Kloppenburg 1991). This section begins explores the critique of
the Cartesian method found in the literature, and how a Reductionist approach silences

40

the intricacies of the knowledge upheld by individuals and groups concerning their local
environment.

Reducing biological systems to a sum of their parts
I will first consider the case of Reductionism within science and how it has
benefited industrial and human development; while this epistemology benefits industry,
the practice of reducing complex biological and social systems or organisms to a sum of
their parts, though, can lead to the loss of the life of the organism or system itself
(Goodfield, 1972). Agricultural systems are part of their environment and are therefore
part of their local ecosystems; by reducing the system to individual chemical or physical
components, the essence of the system itself is largely ignored. As previously discussed,
the aim of soil and agricultural sciences to establish themselves as a valid basic science
has encouraged the reduction of complex agro-ecological systems to a sum of their parts
(Brown, 1929; Wilson, 2001).
Scholars have argued that the Cartesian method (Reductionism) resulted in the
Productivist mentality of modern agriculture, thus polluting local natural resources and
degrading soil quality (Kloppenburg, 1991; Kvaløy 2004; Biel, 2016). In addition, I will
consider a specific case study of Dutch farmers and agricultural scientists in the
Netherlands, and the conflicts between two groups: those that support the superiority of
science, and those calling for a more holistic approach to scientific inquiry. This case
study highlights the role that experiential-based knowledge plays in agriculture, and that
Reductionist science lacks in its ability to explain biological, and therefore, agricultural
and soil systems.

41

In its broadest sense, the scientific method attempts to identify how activities of
successful human inquiry are achieved; this is typically done through ‘systematic
observation and experimentation, inductive and deductive reasoning and the formation
and testing of hypotheses and theories’ (Andersen & Hepburn, 2015). This empiricism
can be considered as the way in which the conscious individual, the subject, relates to the
outer world, ‘the material reality of nature’, objectively (Brecht, 1979). As previously
discussed, the over-emphasis on: empirical observation; theory formulation, testing and
revision; the superiority of determinism and the endless pursuit of universally-applicable
laws has resulted in the reluctance of science to recognize other modes of thinking
(Bosch et al., 2007)
As a facet of the scientific method, Cartesian Reductionism (which I will refer to
as reductionism from this point forward) is the method of dismantling an organization
into individual components that are considered in isolation; from this reduced state, the
isolated parts are then reconstructed to create the whole again (Klopenburg, 1991). This
methodological reductionism refers to the belief that biologists can understand how
organisms work from a micro-level, by disintegrating systems into individual
components (Weber & Esfeld, 2004). Since the Scientific Revolution, humans have
sought to increase human development throughout the economy; the agricultural sector
has changed from one focused on custom and tradition to that in which humans attempt
to control nature to respond to their wishes (Wilson, 1942).
In its attempt to master nature for the continued success of humanity, and to feed
an increasing global population, increased productivity has been the focus of agricultural
development for the past half-century (Kvaløy, 2004). Applying the scientific model

42

through continued research within agriculture has been shown to increase productivity;
Evenson et al. (1979) support this model and argue that increased federal spending on
government research grants, laboratories and tax credits have been shown to spur
productivity within agriculture. As previously discussed, this emphasis on focusing
research to increase productivity during the 20th century was successful with a three-fold
increase in the production of corn, wheat and rice, and the exponential increase in the
human population.
Brecht (1979) asserts that this reduction has proven useful in the past, since it
simplifies a given environment and widens the scope of application; however, in so
doing, vital elements of the organism (or even the organism itself in some instances) must
be dissected, modified, cut, ground and killed. This removes the essence, or life of the
organism/object/system in question, because these biological entities are ‘more than the
sum of their parts’. The scientific method as a means to dominate nature and reduce
systems to identifiable parts has served humanity by increasing crop productivity, but the
result has been extreme soil and environmental pollution (Kvaløy 2004; Biel, 2016).
As part of the environment, agriculture as a functional component of a given
ecosystem must work in relation to the soil, water, air, vegetation, and other organisms
that exist within and around it (Doran, 2002; Bouma et al., 2015). In this framework,
Kloppenburg (1991) has taken on the task of both the deconstruction of contemporary
Productivist agriculture and offers insight into the reconstruction of what the National
Research Council (NRC) and the National Academy of Sciences call for an Alternative
Agriculture (NRC, 1989). As previously discussed, and described by the author,
corporate agriculture and ‘agribusiness’ have since formulated the research conducted by

43

agricultural sciences. Following the reductionist model, the agricultural system,
including the soil within it, has been reduced to individual chemical and physical
elements that have been considered within a laboratory setting (Kvaløy 2004). Due to
the dominance of the ‘academic bourgeois’, the NRC has tasked those that oriented
agriculture towards a reductionist model to ‘recreate’ an Alternative Agriculture (NRC,
1989). As argued by Kloppenburg (1991), maintaining the same forms of knowledge
will not reconstruct a new agricultural model, but will reproduce it within the same
model.
According to Brecht (1979), complex systems are aggregations of physical
components that are interconnected in such a way that they form an entity; therefore,
while there are individual parts to these systems, they make up a single unit within
themselves. This concept is referred to as Holism, where it is necessary to study the
complex system as a whole to grasp its essence. Methodological holism, therefore,
emphasizes that biological systems be considered at a macro- or organismic level, and
one does not comprehend the essence of the system from a reduced state. Zegar &
Wrzaszcz (2017) argue that utilizing holistic approach in sustainable agricultural
development is a useful method; conducting a horizontal analysis of different aspects,
purposes and activities, in conjunction with a hierarchical vertical analysis from a macroand microeconomic scale allows one to understand the complex social and biological
system from a multi-faceted perspective.
Kloppenburg (1991) explores other forms of knowledge that incorporate a more
holistic mode of analysis and apply it to an agriculture framework. With an emphasis on
Feminist science, which aligns with forms of knowledge in African, Chinese, and Native

44

American cultures, the boundaries between humans and the natural world postulated by
the Reductionist model are removed. Instead, the dynamism of natural systems is
considered wholly, and the human is then considered to be a part of this system. In this
mindset, those that interact sensuously with their environment, from the Peruvian
Shaman to the hog farmer in Iowa, are experts of their given locality (Kloppenburg
1991). According to Wendell Berry, “It is the local knowledge that enables the
competent farmer to mast the intricate formal patters in ordering his work within the
overlapping cycles—human and natural, controllable and uncontrollable—of the life of a
farm” (Berry, 1977, p.44, as quoted in Kloppenburg, 1991)
Again, by focusing one’s inquiry into the local ecosystem and environment, one
loses the ability to apply rules and laws universally, which Reductionism allows. But
according to Kloppenburg (1991), Reductionism merely cultivates half-truths of any
system, and the dissection of individual components removes much of the truth of these
organizations. This suggests that the diffusion of universal ‘truths’ into a diversified
complex and locally-based ecosystem, one can discern that there are intricacies of which
are unique to that system alone. These intricacies are not easily understood when the
components are considered outside of the system, in a lab or in another context; therefore,
those that are experts in the field, that are hyper-aware of these intricacies, are those that
interact with the systems on a daily basis. The famers and land managers that work the
soil on a daily basis have vast amounts of knowledge that science as a whole is just now
beginning to realize exists.

45

The disconnect
This section has covered the history of soil science, the rise and fall of
Productivist agriculture, and they ways in which farmers and scientists differ in their
modes of learning and knowledge dissemination. This review explains that a
disconnection exists between the two groups, and that in order implement sustainable
practices throughout the agricultural landscape, integration must take place. In order to
forge and strengthen relationships in the future, it is therefore useful to understand what
forces prevent this integration. I will first consider the expert/non-expert model of
knowledge dissemination from universities to end-users and will explain how this creates
both distrust and ‘superficial trust’ within farmer groups.
Carolan (2005) considers the phenomenological challenge of integrating
sustainable practices into modern culture based on the embedded social norms involving
people, state and other ‘expert’ institutions, as well as biological systems. In order to
understand knowledge accumulation and transfer within ‘sustainable’ and ‘conventional’
farmer groups, the author compares the modes of interaction and knowledge
dissemination to end-users within a sustainable program (the Practical Farmers of Iowa
(PFI)) and a more traditional Land Grant university (Iowa State)7. The author found that
within the university-extension model, an expert/non-expert relationship exists where
farmers expressed a level of dependency on the information provided from the university.
During a university-extension field day, interaction and discussion within farmer groups
and with university-extension staff was minimal, and end users seemed to absorb
information from the established experts (Carolan, 2005). While many farmers expressed

7

46

See ‘Farmer Networks’ for a more in-depth analysis of this article.

‘trust’ in the ‘science, knowledge and expertise of this system’, their level of dependence
and lack of personal involvement could be described as ‘virtual’ or ‘as if’ trust.
Bouma (2018) explains that the elitism of the sciences over other forms of
knowledge contributes to the distrust expressed by farmers. As described by the author,
“large groups of increasingly well-educated citizens and stakeholders, now with access to
much information on the internet and active on social media, don’t understand activities
of the scientific community and have the feeling that their own opinions are not taken
seriously” (p. 23). The dominance of Reductionist knowledge forms has been covered in
great detail previously, but it is therefore useful to understand how it has impacted
farmers.
It is believed that certain impediments within the scientific community prevent
the relation of important scientific findings to the general public. Ingram et al., (2010)
claim that the reliance on objective knowledge, scientific rules, principles, and tools
replace hands-on, experiential knowledge because many scientists do not actually work
the soil, nor confront the same challenges faced by farmers. Because this disconnect
exists between objective research and the practical experience within soil science,
farmers, stakeholders and policy makers are somewhat skeptical of the validity of certain
scientific claims. Additionally, shortcomings recognized within the sciences include
missing data, a poor understanding of environmental processes, and the reliance on
models to express complex and unique ecological processes creates mistrust from farmers
and other land managers (Ingram et al., 2010).
In addition, Sumane et al. (2017) explains that the hegemonic dominance of the
scientific model in soil and agricultural information creation and dissemination inhibits

47

farmers from trusting their own experience-based knowledge. This can be expressed in
farmers’ reliance on external inputs like synthetic chemical fertilizers; historically,
farmers relied on inputs generated within the farm, but with the industrialization and
‘scientification’ of agriculture, off-farm inputs were favored. The author explains that
while this isn’t true in all cases, “the loss of tacit knowledge [transpired due] to the
alienation from production processes and a reduction and standardization of skills”
(Sumane et al., 2017, p. 3). Since farmers do not operate in formal scientific realms, their
dependence on these knowledge bases results in a loss in locally based knowledge.

The path forward
The purposes of this section have been three-fold. First, I’ve described the
valuable efforts that soil science has and continues to contribute to human growth and
development, but also discussed how agricultural and soil sciences alone have historically
reduced complex farm systems into a mere sum of their parts. Secondly, I’ve described
how tacit knowledge produced and utilized by farmers and land managers has largely
been silenced in favor of more explicit forms of knowledge; this is due in large part to
how difficult it is to communicate and transfer experience-based knowledge in a timely
and efficient manner. My third point articulates that we should not convert our farmers to
scientists, or scientists to farmers. Instead, we should facilitate the convergence of these
two areas; the generalizable principles of scientists with the local knowledge of farmers,
to create truly sustainable and resilient agricultural and land management. Both groups
have much to gain from each other, largely because they have differing priorities and
modes of learning. When combining both perspectives, much can be gained. A shift can
be observed over the past few decades away from this model, with many soil and

48

agricultural researchers gaining context-specific knowledge from farmers and land
managers.
The following section looks at specific examples of the benefits of farmer and
agricultural researcher interaction to improve soil quality and prevent environmental and
land degradation. I will also discuss Farmer Participatory Research (FPR) as a
framework to create connections between both farmers and researchers. Including
farmers and land managers at the decision-making table will allow for researchers and
policymakers to make regulations and create technology that is relevant to them.
Additionally, allowing researchers to elucidate the complexity of tacit knowledge will
facilitate the spread of valuable knowledge to a larger audience. In so doing, we can
create more balanced methods to manage land, fulfill the needs of a larger population,
and improve overall soil and environmental health.

First step: Bring farmers to the decision-making table
It is clear that farmers and land managers should be included in the decisionmaking process, albeit within necessary and relevant research initiatives, or policy
actions. As discussed earlier, knowledge trickling down from the academic sphere can be
perceived by many in the general public, including farmers, as elitist knowledge that
doesn’t value the needs of the population. In order to remedy this misperception, Bouma
(2018) focuses on the need to bring stakeholders like farmers and land managers to the
decision-making table by making them partners in research inquiry and goal
identification. By identifying questions and challenges that are relevant to end users, and
by defining goals that are relevant to these same end users, policymakers may create a
more effective plan of action.

49

According to Doran (2002), what must be of utmost importance within scientific
inquiry is not establishing indicators for soil health, but instead creating tools for
management. In addition, these tools must be economically viable for producers, since
according to one farmer, “It’s hard to be green when you’re in the red” (Doran 2002, p.
123). As it is currently conducted, scientific research is not directly useful for
technological advancement; instead, new inquiries arise in a seemingly endless circle of
scientific development (Jensen et al. 2007). By increasing end user participation in new
technological development, Croxton (1999) argues that widespread use and success is
more likely, since the individuals utilizing the new technology are included at the
decision-making table. Farmer and land manager participation is an essential step to
create change at any scale.

From traditional science to complex systems thinking
As explained by Rogers et al. (2013), in order to truly adapt to a complex systems
frame of mindset, both farmers and researchers must essentially unlearn the reductionist
approach, since it is impossible to handle the complexity of ecological systems under this
approach. The authors propose Participatory Action Research (PAR) as a replacement in
which both researchers and farmers/land managers work together to design an approach
first defines “a desired future, and undertake well-informed actions that will expand their
knowledge, enhance their competencies and overcome challenges for moving through the
future” (Rogers et al., 2013). But in order to do this, both researchers and farmers must
recognize the complexity of local systems and instead “seek to understand systems in
terms of the heterogeneity of their structure, relationships, and properties that emerge
from interactions” (Rogers et al., 2013).

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According to Rogers et al. (2013), the steps required to adapt to complex systems
thinking, or PAR, involve: 1) a recognition of the dynamics between explicit and tacit
knowledge frameworks; 2) an awareness of current knowledge deficits, 3) proceeding
from single-loop learning (practical learning that results in ‘rules of thumb’) to triple-loop
learning (where we ‘challenge our premises and frame of reference before taking action);
4) altering our levels of consciousness from unconscious incompetence (when people do
not recognize learning deficits) to unconscious competence (when new skills become
second nature) or even reflective competence (when people continually reconsider their
unconscious competencies to adapt to new knowledge acquisition). Researchers creating
action-based experiments should be aware of the different stages of participants and
stakeholders and be able to meet them at their given stages (Rogers et al., 2013).
Finally, the authors propose new mental habits that must be cultivated by
researchers and stakeholders to accommodate for complex systems research. These
include: 1) an openness in which strong opinions are held lightly; 2) situational
awareness and the role that V-STEEP (Values –social, technical, economic,
environmental and political) plays in each specific context; and 3) respect for the
restraint/action paradigm, where one has an understanding of when it is necessary to take
action, but also the wisdom to wait for potential solutions, epiphanies or emergent ideas
to arise and address the challenges at hand (Rogers et al. 2013). The authors consider
challenges within a complex system not as a linear trajectory with a single solution, but
as a series of knots where one must ‘unravel’ the issue at hand; even though pulling in
one spot may loosen it, other areas could subsequently tighten. The entire ‘knot’ or
system must be under consideration to address the problems at hand.

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The PAR framework mentioned above applies to agricultural research models.
As discussed previously, problems are viewed as isolated, and singular solutions are
sought after to address them. But as complex socio-ecological systems, challenges within
an eco-agricultural context are not singular, but must be considered within a wider frame
of reference; V-STEEP informs this spatial and historical context. In order to address
these complex challenges, researchers, farmers, and land managers must work together to
rethink their approach to facing issues and expanding their horizons to incorporate the
complexity of each farmer’s unique circumstances. A constant cycle of decision, action
and review will monitor the success of the proposed solutions to make sure they still
apply to the system and situation at hand (Rogers et al. 2013). Although this model is a
fairly new framework, I will explore one case study that has adopted similar approaches
within complex agricultural systems.

Case study from the Netherlands
In the Netherlands, the VEL and VANLA Nutrient Management Project aims to
address the main question: how to increase nitrogen efficiency in dairy farming systems
and how to decrease (as cost-effectively as possible) the surplus of nitrogen emitted in
nitrate and ammonia (Eshuis & Stuiver, 2005). Two components make up this project:
the first being the interactions between farmers and researchers and how they interact
with and among each other to discuss observations and formulate analyses; the second is
the site-specificity of the research, performed in-the-field on dairies of the participating
farmers. Through participatory inquiry, Eshuis & Stuiver (2005) sought to analyze how
15 scientists and 60 farmers interacted and learned together within the VEL and VANLA
framework. Through learning, conflict and alignment analysis, and social learning

52

interactions between the two groups, the authors examined how the development of
knowledge directly related to problem solving affected both groups.
The authors found that both scientists and farmers worked together to develop a
common framework, and that diversity existed within the group of researchers and the
group of farmers. The analysis of conflict and alignment within the VEL and VANLA
framework deserves special attention; when discussing proper manure and nutrient
application, two new groups formed. The first group, consisting of some farmers, but
primarily scientists, upheld the scientific model and institutional recommendations for
nutrient applications, stating that the more one adheres to these rules, the better the result;
this finding aligns with the expert/non-expert relay of information previously explained
(Carolan, 2005; Sumane et al., 2017). The second group consisted of primarily farmers
and some scientists and supported a relatively new model. The Van Bruchem Theory
was formed based on the experiences of some of the farmers who participated in project;
they argued that universal models and laws upheld by scientists do not apply to every
actor and every case (Eshuis & Stuiver, 2005).
Major conflicts arose at this point, and because the second group could not use
formal scientific justification for their beliefs, were seemingly refuted by the first group
because of the lack of quantification of such variables like ‘good manure’ which lack
codified scientific evidence. These new groups attempted to delegitimize the motives of
the other group, but greater problems arose because both groups used different languages,
preventing constructive communication and conclusion-development. The major point of
alignment came when the second group emphasized that the experience from successful
farmers with manure application did ‘work’ in those examples, and that science may be

53

lagging behind the experiential knowledge possessed by farmers. By developing a
mutually agreed-upon storyline, the first group showed more support for the second
group, and the idea that scientific knowledge was superior was then abandoned. The two
groups were then able to agree that existing scientific models alone were inadequate to
realize environmental norms and goals of the project (Eshuis & Stuiver, 2005).
One-on-one interactions with farmers are a useful means to understand how they
create and disseminate knowledge; however, scientists and agronomists must observe
farmers in action, since these individuals are experience-based learners. Through this
method, farmers are able to teach and show their practices through doing, using and
interacting. Much information can be lost with farmers if purely utilizing verbal
communication, since farmers practice an implicit form of knowledge, as opposed to the
explicit and codified knowledge collected and disseminated in the traditional scientific
model. Nevertheless, it is still useful to interview and speak with farmers to achieve a
basic understanding of their Soil Health Knowledge.

Farmer empowerment in Tanzania
Other efforts have been made in developing countries to not only include farmers
at the decision-making table, and to provide them the tools necessary to facilitate socioeconomic benefits for themselves and their communities. In Tanzania, the Programme
for Agricultural and Natural Resource Transformation for Improved Livelihoods
(PANTIL) sought to improve the livelihoods of rural farming families through training,
research, and outreach; in particular, the program sought to better understand how
organizations and institutions oriented towards farmer participation could also empower
farmers (Mwaseba et al., 2009).

54

Through key-informant interviews, sample surveys and focus-group discussions
with participating farmers, the authors sought to understand how the implementation of
various programs throughout Tanzania strengthened existing farmer organizations;
supported the creation and dissemination of new information, training and skills within
beneficiary groups; or connect farmers with a wide network of extension agents,
institutions or other invested stakeholders. The programs and organizations under
consideration included: The Member Empowerment in Cooperative Development Project
(MEMCOOP), the Rural Financial Services Programme (RFSP) and the African Institute
for Social and Economic Development (INADES) among others (Mwaseba et al., 2009).
The authors considered how well the organization improved farmer participation,
self-confidence, increased access to resources, encouraged power negotiation and assisted
in the acquisition of new knowledge (Mwaseba et al., 2009). The authors then asked
beneficiaries to explain what they perceived empowerment to be, and how well the
organization facilitated this process. To these individuals empowerment involved: the
acquisition of new knowledge and skills, receiving new material and capital assistance,
having a more substantial role at the decision-making table, as well as being more
informed about operations and financial resources necessary for development.
Interestingly, the most important ways the beneficiaries perceived empowerment was
through the acquisition of new knowledge and skills as well as access to natural and
financial resources (Mwaseba et al., 2009).
The author describes both positive and negative benefits attributed to farmer
empowerment. For some individuals, upward mobility, increased political access and
ascension to leadership roles were granted after participation in empowerment initiatives.

55

In addition, many farmers described an increased sense of autonomy in decision-making,
encouraging these individuals to be less reliant on outsider participation from extension
agents or other institutions. Finally, gender inclusion, with more women involved in
leadership roles, as well as an increased sense of accountability in new development
projects throughout the community were described as positive outcomes from the process
(Mwaseba et al., 2009). On the other hand, negative outcomes included a polarization
effect within the community between beneficiaries and non-beneficiaries; a sense of the
‘haves’ and ‘have-nots’ was described, since the beneficiaries now had access to more
economic and political power (Mwaseba et al., 2009). Nevertheless, the authors
explained that in order for these empowerment initiatives to be successful, capital and
natural resources must not only be provisioned, but time and continuous interaction
between organizations and beneficiaries must be facilitated to grant farmers a full sense
of empowerment (Mwaseba et al., 2009).
While the authors don’t cite how these programs can improve natural resource use
and new technological implementation explicitly, the methods described provide a useful
framework for other institutions and organizations that hope to improve farmer
participation and create sustained positive change with the implementation of any new
development. Mwaseba et al. (2009) described a sense of polarization resulted between
the beneficiaries and non-beneficiaries, since participants were granted tools and access
to upward mobility and political power that was not granted to others. While polarization
is likely to occur when some groups are granted access to new resources, it is essential to
consider including most individuals, if not all members of an agricultural community in
these scenarios (Rogers et al., 2013). As previously discussed, Communities of Practice

56

are intimate groups where farmers interact and share information on a daily basis; by
identifying these groups and providing resources to all members of these intimate
communities, these efforts will prove to be more successful and create less intracommunal tension, since the local socio-ecological system will be recognized and all
members within this community will be granted equal access (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey,
2002; Oreszczyn et al., 2010).

The path forward takeaways
In order to increase education and new technological development, and to
encourage natural resource conservation, it is essential to bring farmers to the decisionmaking table in new research and technological initiatives. Through FPR, complex
challenges presented within farmer communities are considered, and researchers can
work alongside farmers and land managers to better address these issues (Rogers et al.
2013). Farmer participation initiatives like the VEL and VANLA organization in the
Netherlands as well as the PANTIL program in Tanzania have proven to be largely
successful efforts in the outreach, education, inclusion and empowerment of local farmer
groups (Eshuis & Stuiver, 2005; Mwaseba et al., 2009). In the context of improving
agricultural sustainability and providing the tools necessary to farmers to increase new
technological adaptation, both initiatives found that including farmers at the decisionmaking table was essential to create change (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). While
more research into farmer participation is necessary, it is clear that farmers and scientists
can work cooperatively to not only learn from each other, but to better increase the
dispersal and success of new research and technology.

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The soil itself
This section explores the contributions of soil and agricultural scientists and
provides a rudimentary introduction to the established indicators of soil health. In
addition, an investigation into various management practices and their impacts on these
soil health indicators will be discussed, as well. Basic research into soil and agricultural
sciences has greatly improved our understanding of the complex physical, chemical and
biological processes taking place belowground; without this understanding, much of the
empirical evidence behind soil health would largely be unknown. While basic research is
an integral part to improving our knowledge of complex systems, it should not be the
only epistemology practiced or recognized as valid. Therefore, a combination of both
basic and applied science is essential to better understand complex systems and facilitate
the dissemination of this information to end users and the public (Fox et al., 1987;
Oosterlinck et al., 2002). While this point has been discussed in detail, it is worthwhile to
recognize what contributions basic science has made to our understanding of soil and
agricultural management in general.
The general definition upheld by the USDA’s NRCS for soil health, or soil
quality8 is defined as: “the continued capacity of soil to function as a vital living
ecosystem that sustains plants, animals, and humans” (NRCS, 1995). In recent years, soil
health improvement and maintenance has replaced general soil quality, since our
understanding of soil and the role of living organisms has changed dramatically. Soil
health differs because it describes the soil as a living, dynamic system that depends

8

58

Soil health and soil quality will be used interchangeably in this paper

largely on the biological diversity of the living organisms that play such a vital role to the
functionality of a given soil. On the other hand, more static variables, like physical and
chemical properties, are more often associated with soil quality, since these indicators are
less dynamic and depend largely on climate and ecosystem functions (Doran & Zeiss,
2000). All three indicators, biological, physical and chemical, are all closely linked, and
in order to truly understand the health or quality of a given soil, we must think of them as
interdependent and manage these properties holistically.
The broad definition of improved functionality of soils has been further elucidated
by Doran and Parkin; this includes a given soil’s ability to: “accept, hold and release
nutrients, chemical constituents and water; promote sustainable root growth; maintain a
suitable biotic habitat; respond to management; and resisting degradation” (1994). It is
clear that all of these functions depend on the health and quality of the physical, chemical
and biological properties of the soil, and are intertwined. In addition, there are a number
of services provided by the soil; in our value-driven market, it is therefore useful to
explain the ecosystem services offered by healthy soil. With 25% of our world’s land
mass under some form of management, it is therefore imperative to understand what
practices improve or degrade a soil’s health. In addition, dead and decaying organic
matter, generated by once-living plants, animals and other organisms, contributes greatly
to a soil’s health as well.
In order for an indicator to be useful to both scientists and farmers, it must meet
certain criteria that accurately express the functionality of a given soil. According to
Doran & Safley (1997), an indicator must: 1) be clearly understandable; 2) accurately
express ecosystem processes; 3) integrate physical, chemical and biological

59

characteristics of the soil in question; 4) be comprehensible by a wide audience, including
farmers and land managers in addition to soil and agricultural scientists and
policymakers; 5) respond to dynamic changes. By meeting these criteria, a given
indicator can accurately communicate soil health to a wide audience and can effectively
measure change over time.
At the turn of the 21st century, many soil scientists declared that soil and
agricultural sciences should create indicators of soil health that are accessible to farmers
and land managers. JW Doran (2002), a renowned soil scientist at the University of
Nebraska Lincoln known for his contributions towards establishing indicators of soil
health, explains that scientists play a necessary role in the relay of information to the
producers and the public; the author suggests that it is essential that they establish tools
that allow farmers and land managers to understand management that improves soil
health or degrades it. The ultimate determinant of soil quality and health, according to
Doran and Zeiss (2000) are the farmers and land managers responsible for managing the
soil; therefore, the indicators should be tailored to meet the needs of these land stewards.
While there are many indicators that are outside of the scope of the producers,
particularly those that require laboratory analysis, the authors argue that creating
sustainable management practices with corresponding indicators is the most effective
way to allow farmers and land managers to monitor their soil health and quality.
This section first establishes basic parameters upheld by both farmers and soil
scientists as healthy soil; through biological, physical and chemical explanations, I will
describe how healthy and unhealthy soils function in both agricultural and unmanaged
soils. In order to rationalize the benefits of healthy soil, I will consider the ecosystem

60

services provided by soils that are not degraded. Since humans manage large portions of
land globally, it will be essential to explain what management practices improve the soil
or degrade it, and how degraded soils not only become unusable by humans, but also
contribute to overall global environmental issues like greenhouse gas emissions and
water pollution. I will then explain the role that soil organic matter plays in overall soil
health, and what practices improve or degrade the state of a soil’s SOM. Finally, I will
examine three methods of measuring soil organic matter, and consequently, overall soil
health, and how effectively they can communicate soil health to the general public.

Indicators of soil health and quality
Biological indicators
Soil biology is one of the most underexplored properties, most likely due to the
post-WWII industrial agriculture emphasis on soil physical and chemical properties
(Doran & Zeiss, 2000; Barrios, 2007; Lehman et al., 2015). Within one gram of soil,
there are at least 1 billion bacterial cells from thousands to millions of different species,
one million fungi from hundreds of different species that can produce over 100 m of
mycelial hyphae (the mass of tubular filaments of fungi). In addition, the soil contains
thousands of algal species, millions of protozoa, tens to hundreds of species of
microscopic nematodes, as well as a great diversity of meso- and macro-biota
invertebrates. Lehman et al. (2015) states that there may be as much belowground
biomass as there is on the earth’s surface. But we are just beginning to scratch the
surface of our understanding of soil biological components.
Soil organisms play specific roles that influence chemical and physical properties
of the soil. The key functional groups of soil organisms include: mycro-symbionts

61

(nitrogen-fixing bacteria and mycorrhizal fungi), decomposers (cellulose and lignin
degraders), elemental transformers (nitrifiers and denitrifiers), soil ecosystem engineers
(earthworms and termites), soil-born pests and diseases (white grubs, parasitic
nematodes, root rot), as well as microregulators (grazers, predators and parasites)
(Barrios, 2007). Soil organisms provide important ecosystem services, which will be
considered further in this section: they cycle nutrients, modify the soil structure, and
manage pests and diseases (Barrios, 2007). These functions are not only greatly
connected to other chemical and physical properties, but also to overall soil health and
quality, which have a great impact on the productivity and subsequent profitability of a
given agroecosystem.
In regard to the benefits of biota to improve soil chemical factors, Lehman et al.
(2015) explains that microorganisms regulate the availability, abundance and
heterogeneity of nutrients for uptake by plants. With respect to nitrogen and phosphorus,
which are two of the most limiting (and most poorly utilized) nutrients in
agroecosystems, microorganisms like Arbuscular Mycorrhizal Fungi (AMF) and
Biological Nitrogen Fixers (BNF) play a significant role in bio-regulating the availability
of these nutrients (Barrios, 2007). In temperate climates, studies show that the total fixed
nitrogen from mixed stands of clover and tall fescue, a leguminous cover crop and grass
combination, can increase N availability by as much as 300-390 kg/ha/year (Barrios,
2007).
Cover crops, which will be discussed in further detail in the management section,
can help limit the amount of synthetic inputs required for crop production by utilizing soil
biological nutrient cycling. With respect to phosphorus, a mineral nutrient found in the

62

bed rock only in certain areas of the world, AMF have been found to directly affect P
procurement in the soil. As endomycorrhizae penetrate the cells of plant roots, they
generate hyphae which have the ability to extend deeper into the soil column, where
phosphorus is typically found. These hyphae, along with other bacteria, not only are able
to access nutrients in deeper soil horizons, but also assist in the acquisition of other
limiting nutrients like nitrogen, potassium, calcium and magnesium, which when
available in adequate quantities, have been shown to positively impact crop productivity
(Barrios, 2007). This shows that although historically considered separately, soil biota
directly impacts chemical properties belowground.
Soil structure and aggregation, major indicators of soil physical quality, are also
largely influenced by soil organisms. Micro- and macrofauna play a significant role in
the formation and disintegration of soil aggregates. Through the breakdown and
restructuring of particulate organic matter, detritus at varying sizes and processes
undergoes decomposition through microbial and macrofaunal activity. This
decomposition creates ‘biological macroaggregates’ which are largely formed by
bacteria, roots, fungi and macrofauna (Barrios, 2007). Macrofauna, frequently
considered the engineers of the soil column, include ants, termites and earthworms.
These organisms regulate soil water and nutrient dynamics; for example, the addition of
organic matter and the subsequent breakdown and restructuring by termites has been
shown to recuperate surface crusted soils, which prevent the efficient infiltration of water
into the soil column.
The tunnels, channels and pathways formed by earthworms render these
organisms ecosystem engineers (Pulleman et al., 2012). There are three ecological

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groups of earthworms: anecics, endogeics, and epigeics; Epigeic earthworms breakdown
plant detritus at the soil surface, anacecics burrow into lower horizons and create
permanent tunnels between different layers, and endogeics consume more stable organic
matter and mineral soil. Both endogeic and anacecic earthworms significantly contribute
to soil structure formation (and subsequently reduce erosion), enhance water filtration
and also help to remediate pollutants. Since endogeic and anacecic earthworms are
extremely sensitive to soil disturbance through tillage, they are often considered useful
indicators of soil physical health (Pulleman et al., 2012). While this topic will be covered
in more detail in the physical indicator section below, it is evident that both micro and
macro-organisms significantly contribute to overall soil physical quality.
Historically, soil biology has had much less interest in the scientific field due to
the dominance of soil physical and chemical properties, and the extreme diversity of
organisms within a given soil (Doran & Zeiss, 2000; Barrios, 2007; Lehman et al., 2015).
As previously addressed, though, both soil physical and chemical properties depend
greatly on the health of soil organisms. There are innumerable contributions made by
soil organisms that have barely been considered in this section; however, based on the
evidence provided, soil biota plays a significant role in overall soil health. As our
knowledge of soil biology expands, these organisms should be used as useful indicators
of the status of a given soil. If we consider the 5 criteria specified by Doran & Safley
(1997) earlier in this section, some issues can be encountered with the accessibility and
interpretability of some soil biological indicators. Due to the complexity of biological
systems, it may be difficult for farmers and land manager to comprehend how biological
indicators in isolation contribute to soil health. Nevertheless, I will discuss the important

64

role of organic matter as an indicator and management tool for improving and
maintaining soil health; the relationship between soil organisms and organic matter will
be discussed in detail later in this section.

Physical indicators
Soil structure consists of the arrangement of sand, silt, clay and organic matter
into a wide array of solids and voids, with aggregate formations of different sizes formed
by both organic and inorganic agents (Bronick & Lal, 2005; Barrios, 2007). As the main
function for soil physical quality, soil structure impacts plant growth by influencing the
distribution of roots within the soil column, therefore having an impact on the ability of
the plant to take up water and nutrients. As such, poor soil structure is indicative of soil
degradation; although it is frequently considered a more static component of soil quality,
soil structure is highly dependent on land management practices (Doran and Zeiss, 2000;
Bronick & Lal, 2005).
Soil physical structure is determined by inherent properties like terrain, climate,
biota, parent material and time, in addition to more dynamic properties, like organic
matter content, aggregate stability, infiltration and fertility, which are largely dependent
on the type of management employed (Kuykendall, 2008). Texture, a soil’s composition
of sand silt and clay, in addition to organic matter content, determines a soil’s initial
physical structure. In terms of porosity, the presence of air and water within a given soil,
textural porosity occurs between primary mineral particles (Dexter, 2004; Bronick & Lal,
2005). Structural porosity, on the other hand, consists of microcracks, ‘bio-pores’ and
macrostructures, which, when disturbed by tillage or other management practices, is more
dynamic than textural porosity (Dexter, 2004). The symptoms of bad soil physical

65

quality include the presence of poor water infiltration; run-off of surface water; hardsetting; poor aeration, rootability, and workability. Alternatively, good soil properties are
the complete opposite: soils that absorb and retain water, are well aerated, allow for
plants to explore the soil column with minimal compressibility and are easily workable
without clodding (Dexter, 2004a/b).
Dexter (2004 a/b) uses the slope of an S curve, which expresses a soil’s water
retention, as a measure of soil physical quality. In their first publication, the author
measures the S curve in terms of soil texture, density, organic matter and the effects on
root growth. Under compaction, the reduction of the volume of a given mass of soil
(which usually occurs from too many passes of heavy machinery on overworked soil)9,
the volume of pores is greatly reduced, thus changing overall pore size and impacting the
soil’s ability to retain water. In addition, organic matter also changes a soil’s water
retaining abilities. For root growth, the compressibility of a soil is also indicative of soil
physical quality; a given soil’s compressibility is positively correlated with the slop of the
water retention curve S.
In terms of management, aggregate size, stability and structure largely determine
what makes a soil easily workable. Dexter (2004b) used the retention S curve to measure
friability, tillage and hard-setting of agricultural soils. Friability is determined by how
crumbly a given soil is, or in other words, the ‘distribution of flaws or weakest links
within the soil’ (Dexter, 2004b, p. 216). If a given soil contains fewer large clods, more
smaller aggregates, and crumbles without completely losing its structure, then the soil is
considered ‘workable’; the workability and friability of the soil are formed more so by
9

Tillage and compaction will be discussed in further detail in the Management to improve SOM section, p.
82

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the physical quality of the soil than the implement used during tillage (Dexter, 2004b).
The author found that the friability of a dry soil is positively correlated with the slope of
the water retention curve S since both depend on soil microstructure which makes up the
foundation of soil physical properties10.
Hard-setting or soil crusting, is a dense hardened layer at or near the surface of the
soil which develops due to high levels of disturbance through tillage and poor soil
structure. Crusts prevent the water from properly infiltrating the soil; if water cannot
penetrate the soil, it is not only difficult for plants to grow, but also increases the risk of
water erosion due to run-off. If more topsoil is lost due to erosion, the topsoil cannot be
built back up, and soil quality continues to worsen. Hard-setting increases with increased
bulk density, a sign of poor structure and aggregate stability (Dexter, 2004b).
As discussed in the Biological Indicators section, aggregate formation and
disintegration is largely dictated by soil flora and fauna. Arbuscular mycorrhizal fungi
(AMF) produce a glycoprotein called glomalin’ which contributes to soil particle
aggregation. As AMF infiltrate plant roots, they continue to grow small root hairs called
hyphae to further explore nutrients in the soil column. Acting as a tough glue that take
decades to decompose, glomalin serve to protect the hyphae and to keep water and
nutrients within the root system. A dynamic interplay of hyphal exploration into the soil
column paired with the gluing capacity of glomalin, soil particles not only stick together
to form aggregates, but increase aggregate stability and become less resistant to
breakdown. As a function of aggregate stabilization, hyphae and glomalin serve to

10

The relationship between management practices and physical properties will be addressed later in this
section.

67

prevent wind and water erosion, increase water infiltration and water retention, improve
nutrient cycling and root penetration by reducing compaction (Wright & Nichols, 2002).
Soil chemistry also plays a role in soil physical quality. Udom and Omovbude
(2018) studied the effects of legume and grass cover crops on soil physical structure; the
authors found that the structural properties increased with increasing carbon and nitrogen
from plant residues, which led to improved overall soil structure, decreased bulk density,
increased porosity and increased water holding capacity. Soil pH and saline or sodic
conditions also greatly influence soil physical structure. Sodic soils are characterized by
the displacement of calcium ions on soil colloids by sodium, due to highly salinized
irrigated water or arid climates; if more than 5-15% of sodium ions are adsorbed to soil
colloids, then a soil is considered sodic (Dexter, 2004a). Sodicity increases clay colloid
dispersion, rendering soils devoid of structure and aggregation and highly susceptible to
wind and water erosion. This clearly has an impact on the workability of the soil, since
most sodic soils are hard-set, impermeable to water, and non-friable (Dexter, 2004a).
Soil physical qualities are largely determined by inherent and dynamic factors.
The soil’s structure, permeability and ability to hold water impact a soil’s ability to
support plant and animal life above and belowground. With good soil physical structure,
ample pore space allows for adequate amounts of air and water which support roots and
soil biota; these soils are typically easier to work, yield a more robust seedbed, and are
able to transport water and nutrients for optimal crop cultivation. (Brady & Weil, 2010).
Soils with poor soil structure are more dense, unable to retain or allow water to infiltrate,
are highly susceptible to wind and water erosion, and cannot support flora and fauna

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above and belowground. It is essential that farmers and managers are conscientious of
their soil physical structure since it greatly impacts overall soil health.

Chemical indicators
Costanza et al. (1997) cites chemical indicators such as total soil organic carbon
(SOC), available macro-nutrients (nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium), electrical
conductivity, cation exchange capacity and mineralizable nitrogen as the most wellunderstood and well-documented indicators of soil quality. Also referred to as fertility,
soil chemical characteristics have been considered the most important determinant for
successful crop cultivation (Brady & Weil, 2010). While the ability of a soil to hold and
transport nutrients is essential, there are many other factors that must be considered, as
previously explained in the last two sections. Here, I will address the major components
of soil chemical quality, including pH, cation exchange capacity (CEC) and electrical
conductivity (NRCS, 2011)11. As a well-understood and measured soil and crop
indicator, it will also be useful to see how chemical properties impact overall soil health.
Soil acidity or alkalinity is largely determined by a given soil’s pH, or the
presence or absence of hydrogen ions; if a soil is below a pH of 7, it is considered acidic
with more hydrogen ions, while soils above 7 are considered basic and have fewer
hydrogen ions. The availability of macro- and micronutrients is largely determined by a
soil’s pH (NRCS, 2011). Under acidic conditions, more hydrogen ions are attached to
cation exchange sites on soil colloids, displacing mono- and divalent cations like calcium,
magnesium, potassium, and various forms of nitrogen and phosphorus. Micronutrients
like manganese, iron, copper, zinc and boron, on the other hand, are more available as

11

SOC and C sequestration will be addressed in the Soil Organic Matter: The life of the soil section, p. 73

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soil pH decreases (Mckenzie, 2003). As soil pH increases, the presence of calcium and
other cations increases, as well. Under cultivation, and in particular irrigated agriculture,
most soils become acidic over time due to the higher presence of hydrogen ions from
water; however, in arid or calcareous soil, saline irrigated water may actually increase
soil pH. While most crops and soil biota prefer a near-neutral pH, there are management
practices to either increase soil pH (through the addition of lime or gypsum) or decrease
pH (with sulfate or ammonium fertilizers) (Mckenzie, 2003). It is clear soil pH plays a
major role in creating an inhabitable environment for both crops and soil organisms, and
therefore is essential for overall soil health.
As discussed in the previous paragraph, nutrient availability is largely determined
by the amount and exchangeability of given cations. These positively charged ions are
held onto or exchanged at cation exchange sites on soil colloids. Inherent physical
properties like texture play a significant role in determining a soil’s Cation Exchange
Capacity (CEC); if a given soil has higher amounts of clay and stable organic matter
called humus, then they will have a higher CEC (Ketterings et al., 2007). Humus, the
highly decomposed portion of organic matter, can have 4 to 50 times the amount of
exchange sites of clay particles; however, since the organic acids associated with the
negatively charged exchange sites of humus are pH-dependent, pH also contributes to in
a given soil’s CEC. Since macro-nutrients like potassium, phosphorus and calcium are
more available in soils of a higher pH, a soil with a higher pH and high contents of clay
and organic matter will have sufficient quantities of these nutrients; however, as pH and
CEC decrease, deficiencies of these nutrients will increase (Ketterings et al., 2007).

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According to USDA NRCS (n.d.), soil electrical conductivity (EC) measures a
soil’s salinity or sodicity and has an impact on crop yields, plant nutrient availability and
the activity of soil microorganisms, it can also be used as an indicator for nutrients like
nitrates, potassium, sulfate and ammonia and potentially toxic elements like sodium and
chlorine. EC varies with the ability of particles to hold moisture, which is largely
dependent on soil texture. Larger particles like sand have low EC while smaller particles
like clay have high conductivity. In addition, other soil properties affected by EC
include: water-holding capacity and drainage, porosity, CEC, salinity and temperature
(Grisso et al., 2009). In terms of water-holding capacity and drainage, medium-textured
silty soils may be the most productive in terms of EC since they hold adequate amounts
of nutrients for high crop yields. As a product of the amount of clay and OM, CEC has
been shown to be correlated with EC; in addition, the presence of clay also increases the
amount of pore space in a given soil, and consequently indicates a higher EC (Grisso et
al., 2009).
It is clear that many of the indicators of good soil chemical quality are
interconnected. pH largely determines the availability of nutrients for specific crops, in
addition to creating an accommodating environment for both plants and soil
microorganisms. Variation in soil pH and a given soil’s CEC determines what nutrients
are available for uptake by plants. EC is also dependent on pH and influences CEC; the
more saline or sodic a given soil, and therefore lower EC, the fewer exchange sites are
available for uptake by plants. Texture plays a role in a soil’s overall chemical quality;
the soil’s inherent properties (texture) and dynamic characteristics (presence of OM)
determine a given soil’s EC and CEC. More clay and OM provide more exchange sites

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for cations, and OM has between 4 and 50 times the amount of exchange sites as clay.
For EC, more water is available with decreasing particle size, therefore silty and clayey
soils can hold more water, and are therefore more electrically conductive (Brady & Weil,
2010).
In terms of overall soil health, soil chemistry both depends on and impacts soil
physical and biological properties. As described in extensive detail, texture and porosity
determine the nutrient and water availability of a given soil. Saline or sodic soils
influence the flocculation or dispersion of clay particles, and also influence nutrient
availability. pH regulates the quantity and quality of soil flora and fauna, since most soil
microorganisms prefer a near-neutral pH. In addition, the available pore space in soils
with a higher EC (as determined by clay) also creates a more hospitable environment for
soil biota (Brady & Weil, 2010).

Synthesis of indicators
In summary, soil biological, chemical and physical properties are highly
interdependent; it is nearly impossible to consider a single property as a separate entity.
If a given soil has good structure, stable aggregates, absorbs and retains water well, has
ample pore space, a neutral pH, good EC, a high CEC, in addition to a large diversity of
soil flora and fauna, this same soil would most likely produce large yields and highquality crops (Brady & Weil, 2010). If these same properties were the opposite, with
poor structure and aggregation, hard-setting and high amounts of water runoff, an
extreme pH (on either side) and highly saline or sodic soils, a soil environment is not
hospitable for soil biota or aboveground plants.

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Organic Matter, the living, dead, and very dead components of the soil, is the
most significant indicator of soil health that can be used as a tool to connect soil scientists
and agronomists with farmers and land managers (D’Hose et al., 2014; de Souza Mello
Bicalho & dos Guimaraes Peixoto 2016). In accordance with Doran & Safley’s (1997)
criteria for soil health indicators, SOM satisfies all five of the specified measurements.
Organic matter is easy to see and understand within any management system, can serve
as a representation of complex biological and ecosystem processes unobservable with the
human eye, integrates all three components of soil functionality, can be discerned by
farmers, land managers, scientists and even policymakers, and is sensitive to changes in
management.
This soil component serves as an indicator for all three of the properties
previously discussed in this section. It is both produced and consumed by soil
microorganisms. It greatly improves soil aggregation and structure, and without it,
renders soil homogenous and highly susceptible to wind and water erosion. It increases
water retention, prevents hard-setting, and creates a workable, friable seedbed. In terms
of soil chemistry, it buffers pH, and helps alleviate saline or sodic conditions. In more
stable forms, it can increase a soil’s CEC by 4 to 50 times that of clay and provides ample
nutrients for plants and microorganisms. Not only is it one of (if not the) most important
constituents of soil health, but it is also well-understood by both farmers and soil
scientists alike.

Soil organic matter: The life of the soil
Soil organic matter (SOM) in the soil consists of plant and animal tissue in
various stages of decomposition: the living, the dead, and the very dead (Fenton et al.,

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2008). The living fraction includes living plants like root systems, algae and lichen as
well as animals like fungi, bacteria, protozoa and insects, to name a few. All of these
living organisms play a role in the breakdown of plant residues, which make up the
largest part of SOM (Bot & Benites, 2005). This detritus, or dead fraction, consists of
varying stages of decomposing material, like sugars, starches and proteins that undergo
rapid decomposition, slowly decomposing components like cellulose, fats, waxes and
resins, as well as the very slow materials like lignin; the rate of decomposition of these
residues depends largely on the soil organisms, the environment and the quality of the
decomposing OM (Bot & Benites, 2005). Through repeated microorganismal
decomposition and turnover, this dead fraction begins to stabilize. The very dead fraction
of OM refers to the highly decomposed and stable humus, which takes decades to
centuries to decompose and cannot be broken down any further by microorganisms
(Stockmann et al. 2013). As will be discussed in the following sections, the living, dead
and very dead organic material found in the soil are recognized by both farmers and
scientists as some of the best determinants of soil health (D’Hose et al. 2014; de Souza
Mello Bicalho & dos Guimaraes Peixoto 2016).
These varying stages of SOM consist primarily of soil organic carbon (SOC);
approximately 58% of SOM is SOC, or elemental C. As the second largest C sink on the
planet [the ocean being the largest at 38,400 Gt (1 gigaton = 1 billion tons) C], soils
contain 2344 Gt in the first three meters, 1500 Gt in the top meter, and 615 Gt in the top
20 cm; these numbers are not consistent throughout the planet, with certain ecosystems
(like cooler humid climates with large amounts of aboveground biomass) containing
more SOC than others (Stockmann et al. 2013). While soils can serve as a large sink,

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anthropogenic emissions of CO2, or liberated ‘C’, through fossil fuels and other
greenhouse gases, land use change and ecosystem degradation have reached 9 Gt of C
lost to the atmosphere per year (Stockmann et al. 2013). As will be discussed in later
sections, improving soil health through sustainable management practices and land use
change can help to sequester these excessive emissions of carbon from the atmosphere
back into the soil.
Within undisturbed ecosystems, balances exist between inputs and outputs of
organic matter; the soil is covered with living plants, ample amounts of detritus feeds a
diverse array of organisms, there is a thick web of living roots below the ground, and
efficient nutrient cycling occurs because plants demand only as much as what is lost (Bot
& Benites, 2005). Typically in moist, cooler climates, more organic matter can
accumulate within the soil than in drier, hotter areas. The rate of decomposition as
mediated by soil microorganisms is largely dictated by the amount of water and
temperature, with an increase of SOM correlated with increases of mean annual
precipitation; however, highly saturated anaerobic environments slow decomposition
rates of organic matter (Bot & Benites, 2005). In terms of texture and topography, a
higher presence of clay typically results in more organic matter; in addition, basalt-based
parent material which is richer in nutrients and minerals typically yields more vegetative
cover and leads to more OM accumulation.

Indicator of soil health
These ideal nutrient balances are difficult to maintain in managed landscapes and
agroecosystems. Inherent losses result from agriculture, since nutrients and biomass are
exported from the land as salable crops. According to Janzen et al. (2005), “In order to

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increase SOC, one must either increase Primary Productivity, increase the proportion of
primary productivity returns to the soil, or decomposition suppression must be
employed”. Therefore, to efficiently manage SOM, a farmer or land manager must be
conscientious of the short and long-term effects of their management: first of all,
mineralization of C and N in SOM for crop and microorganismal uptake must be
considered, in addition to adding to the long-term C and N pools for soil health
maintenance and improvement. While this topic will be discussed later, it is of value to
explain how SOM is one of the best indicators of soil health, since it has been shown to
improve soil chemical, physical and biological properties.
Biologically, the availability of easily-decomposable SOM impacts the size,
composition, and activity of a microbial community; having a larger community with
more diversity that’s highly active can enhance the availability and retention of nutrients,
improve the soil’s physical structure and water retention (Lehman et al., 2015). In a
study conducted in the Atlantic Forest Biome of Brazil, Nogueira et al. (2016) found that
land converted from forest to cropland, then followed by natural regeneration (converted
back to forest or pasture) had high levels of microbial biomass carbon, which is most
likely associated with higher OM input and high floristic diversity in the forest, and
belowground root abundance in pastureland. In addition, the authors also found that
although the naturally regenerated pastureland had lower levels of glomalin and SOM
than the undisturbed forestland, there was still stimulated production of AMF seedlings
which contribute to plant species diversity and ecological succession. In general, a
diverse array of organic matter provides ample food and nutrient sources for soil biota,

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enhancing biodiversity, and as previously discussed, further contributing to physical and
chemical properties.
The enhanced physical properties of the soil through OM accumulation are
largely dictated by soil biological activity. As previously discussed, soil microorganisms
produce glomalin and other binding agents that influence the soil physical structure and
aggregate stability. With higher levels of organic matter, and more biological diversity,
physical benefits include: increased aggregate stability, improved water infiltration,
adequate soil aeration and reduced runoff (Fenton et al., 2008). In addition, SOM lowers
bulk density and decreases the risk of compaction, allowing for adequate aeration and
water infiltration in addition to strong root development. In terms of tilth and friability, a
high presence of organic matter makes soils less prone to clodding, increasing their
workability and creating an ideal seedbed for cultivation (NRCS, 1996). Subsequently,
more organic matter prevents crusting and prevents the loss of topsoil through erosion by
maintaining soil structure. Having ample biological diversity and strong physical
structure allows consequently allows for the effective availability and transfer of nutrients
from soil colloids to plants.
A soil’s CEC determines the amount and availability of nutrients for uptake by
plants. Soils with a high clay content have more exchange sites to hold nutrients;
however, as previously addressed, humus has 4 to 50 times the exchange sites as clay.
This means that soils high in organic matter not only are able to supply more organic
matter, but consequently prevent the loss of nutrients through leaching. A soil’s
buffering capacity prevents an extreme change in soil pH based on levels of saturation or
amendment additions. This is important for soil biota, since both extremes of pH can

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negatively impact the abundance and diversity of microorganisms. As a food source for
microorganisms, an abundance of OM increases the nutrient abundance for plant uptake,
since the soil organisms consume and mineralize a variety of nutrients to be used by
crops. Largely comprised of C and N, organic matter abundance contributes to the
availability of these two elements in the soil, adding to the C and N pool of the soil and
further improving overall soil health.

Bulk density, carbon and nitrogen as OM measurements
As the most important indicator of soil health, it is necessary to find measurement
tools that accurately quantify the amount of organic matter present in a given soil.
According to Barrios (2007), “As soil organic matter influences soil structure, soil
nutrient availability, soil water holding capacity, and cation exchange capacity, it can be
used as a management tool to favor greater soil heterogeneity and more diverse soil
(biological) communities that are associated with the natural regulation of pests and
diseases” (p. 279). While there are a number of methods that can be used, I will consider
the high temperature combustion method for chemical analysis of total carbon and total
nitrogen contents. In addition, soil bulk density, or mass by volume, will also be
considered as an effective measure of organic matter content in a given soil.
According to Dieckow et al. (2007) it is necessary to have the most reliable
measurement methods of carbon and nitrogen in soil organic matter studies because these
two elements are the ‘first analytical step’ in quantifying and characterizing soil organic
matter. In addition, Avramidis et al. (2015) states that measuring soil total C and total N
are the major determining factors in agricultural soils since they indicate soil fertility,
productivity and overall soil health. While there are a number of methods that can be

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used to measure C and N, I will consider the dry combustion method for the purposes of
this study. This method combusts soil samples in an induction furnace with a stream of
pure oxygen. Temperatures can exceed 1000 degrees C, which ensures that all carbon
forms within a given soil sample are completely incinerated (Schumacher et al., 2002).
Through an analysis of different C measurement methods, Schumacher et al. (2002)
found that for the purposes of total organic C, the use of a high temperature, automated,
dry combustion method was the ideal method for quantification. Therefore, for the
purposes of my study, I have also used the high temperature combustion method to
measure total C and total N.
Bulk Density is one of the most commonly used indicators of overall soil physical
quality; as a measure of mass by volume, it can communicate the integrity of the soil
physical structure, aggregate stability, as well as the friability and tilth of a given soil
(Kuykendall, 2008). Variation within bulk density measurements can be attributed to the
proportion of organic and mineral particles to porosity and the impact of gravity; as such
most mineral agricultural soils have a bulk density between 1 to 2 grams per cubic
centimeter (g/cm3). According to Hossain et al. (2015), heavily compacted soils with
high tractor traffic (for example) have a bulk density between 1.4 and 1.6 g/cm3 while
open and friable mineral soils with good organic matter content have less than 1 g/cm3.
Soil organic matter has been shown to improve dynamic physical properties of the
soil like aggregate stability, water infiltration and bulk density; therefore, a correlation
between higher organic matter and lower bulk density can be observed (Kuykendall,
2008). In an analysis of indicators of soil physical quality, Kuykendall (2008) found that
bulk density is the best physical indicator of soil quality since it accurately assesses the

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functionality of a given soil. In addition, bulk density expresses a soil’s ability to provide
good physical structure for efficient water infiltration and plant root-ability, which in turn
sustains biological activity through adequate aeration and saturation.
Measuring organic matter is essential to understand the health of a given soil.
The dry combustion of total C and total N, in conjunction with measurements of bulk
density are useful tools in assessing the amount of organic matter present in mineral
agricultural soils. Therefore, I have chosen to use these methods to determine organic
matter content of the soils under study. While soil sampling is an important component
of this project, it is not the only variable being measured. Since farmers’ perceptions of
soil health affect their management practices, it is essential to understand how they
perceive organic matter and its relationship to healthy soil.

Binding the soil, scientists and farmers
Many publications describe the important role organic matter plays not only in
determining soil health, but also in improving degraded soils (Hijbeek et al., 2017; Janzen
et al., 2005.; Bot and Benites, n.d.; Avramidis et al., 2015; Fenton et al. 2008; Nogueira
et al. 2016). As previously represented, it is well-understood within the agricultural and
soil sciences that improving organic matter content improves overall soil health. But
what do farmers know about the role of organic matter in the health of their soil?
According to a number of articles, focused particularly in the Netherlands, (Hijbeek et al.
2017; Hijbeek et al. 2018), farmers are well aware of the importance of soil organic
matter; however, their perception of SOM varies, in addition to the depth of their soil
health knowledge in general.

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In a survey of 435 participants, Hijbeek et al. (2018) evaluated what factors
prevented or encouraged Dutch arable farmers to increase SOM on their farms based on
their own attitudes, the influences of their social circle, and their ‘perceived behavioral
control’. The authors found that 90 percent of the participants intended to increase their
SOM content, however there were a number of factors contributing to attitudes towards
outcomes of OM addition. Differences were recognized based on texture: farmers with
sandier soils believed they benefited from OM because of water-holding capacity and soil
structure, while farmers with loamy or clay soils rootability and workability (in addition
to structure). Interestingly, soil physical structure was viewed as an important
consequence of organic matter additions. In addition, farmers which earned the highest
economic output (high intensity) per hectare valued the long-term effects of SOM moreso than the medium and low-intensity farmers (Hijbeek et al. 2018). In sum, the authors
found that a vast majority of Dutch farmers surveyed in the study intended to increase
SOM content, and their justification for doing so depended on texture as well as
economic goals.
Another study conducted by Hijbeek et al. (2017) attempted to quantify risk
indicators of SOM deficiencies based on texture, land use and other environmental
factors and compared these responses to farmers’ perceived SOM deficiencies. By
matching the actual and perceived risks of SOM deficiencies, the authors attempted to
‘establish threshold values for SOM content based on farmers’ perceptions’. The study
found that countries in Southern and Eastern Europe with drier climates, steeper slopes,
coarser soils and more cultivation of specialized horticultural crops had higher SOM
deficiencies. In addition, farmers with steeper slopes had perceived higher SOM

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deficiencies; however, farmers that had similar SOM contents perceived a wider range of
SOM deficiencies (Hijbeek et al. 2017). The authors also found that farmers with high
perceived SOM deficiency have environmental extremes; in terms of land use, the more
intensive specialized horticultural crops had more SOM deficiency, but higher SOM was
found for grain crops like cereals or grasses. The authors found correlations between the
risk indicator and the farmers’ perceived SOM deficiency, suggesting that environmental
and land use extremes were easier for farmers to perceive than more moderate
environmental and land uses.
While these two articles describe the perceptions of farmers and SOM on their
farm, the literature is generally lacking in examples of farmers and their understanding of
Organic Matter and its benefits to their soil; however, I do not believe this is because
farmers are unable to perceive OM and its benefits. In Hijbeek et al. (2018), the authors
found that 90% of respondents in the Netherlands were aware of the benefits of higher
OM levels in their soil and were actively working towards increasing it. The other article
cited in this section found variation in farmers’ perceptions of SOM, with more accurate
deficiency identification under extreme land use and environmental conditions. More
research is necessary to understand what farmers know about SOM, what practices
contribute to its accumulation in addition to what practices increase SOM loss and
subsequent soil degradation.

Management to improve SOM
Thus far, I have illustrated the biological, physical and chemical indicators of soil
health with a strong emphasis on the role played by SOM. There are a number of ways to
improve SOM accumulation and subsequent soil health, since the two are clearly

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connected. General rules of thumb include: minimizing soil disturbance, maximizing
residue accumulation, maintaining vegetative cover, utilizing the 4 R’s of fertility
management (Right source, Right rate, Right time, Right place), and implementing water
use efficiency (Bot & Benites, 2005; The Fertility Institute, 2017) . These five principles
not only increase SOM, but simultaneously improve overall soil health. It is now
necessary to examine management practices that execute these principles. In this section,
I will consider five management practices that improve soil health: minimum and no-till;
perennial crops; cover crops; manure, compost, and biosolid applications; 4 R’s of soil
fertility, and water use efficiency.

Tillage

Figure 1: Tillage practices from conventional (full tillage) to minimum and no-till
(From Faidutti & Zhang, 2003)
Tillage is the practice of exerting force on the soil to break up and rearrange the
topsoil structure, providing a seed bed to plant arable crops; this practice has been
employed since the advent of agriculture at least 10,000 years ago (Faidutti and Zhang

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2003). As illustrated in Figure 1, conventional tillage requires the passage of multiple
types of machinery to prepare the soil for planting. While tillage promotes the rapid
oxidation of crop residues (allowing soil microorganisms to quickly consume and release
nutrients for uptake by plants), this practice can increase wind and water erosion, deplete
SOM, reduce structural and aggregate stability and increased surface runoff. In addition,
the multiple passes of heavy machinery can increase compaction and surface crusting,
destroying pore space and preventing proper water infiltration. For maintaining or
improving soil health, conventional tillage practices are strongly related to increased soil
degradation (Bot & Benites, 2005).
Minimum or no-tillage, on the other hand, exerts much less physical disturbance
and fewer passes with heavy machinery. By minimizing ploughing and disking, structure
is left nearly intact, and residues are kept in place to protect the soil from compaction,
erosion and runoff. Reduced, minimum and no-till practices have been shown to increase
surface SOC by as much as 7.5 Mg C/ha in 10 years; however, it must also be noted that
minimum and no-till practices are not for every operation (Janzen et al., 2005).
Especially in organic farms which minimize the use of herbicides, minimum and no till
operations face weed challenges compared to conventionally tilled farms. In addition,
yield may be affected by minimum or no-tillage due to lower soil temperatures resulting
in slowed microbial activity.
Jokela and Nair (2016) conducted a two-year field study comparing
conventionally-tilled (CT), strip-tilled (ST: maintaining soil coverage with a tilled strip
in the row for planting) and no-till (NT), organic bell pepper production. The authors
found no difference between marketable yield between all three treatments for the first

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year, but increased yield in the second year for CT; this could be due to decreased soil
temperatures. In addition, no differences between soil microbial biomass and diversity
among the three treatments were found; however, the NT and ST treatments showed
reduced concentrations of Nitrate-N concentrations in leachate, meaning that less NitrateN was being lost and at risk of polluting waterways. The authors noted that overall soil
health measurements were not easy to compare in such a short timeframe but suggested a
more long-term study to measure other indicators of soil health between the treatments
(Jokela and Nair, 2016).
Economic returns, as represented by higher yields, are typically preferred by
farmers when considering preferences for specific management practices; however, the
authors also suggest that many farmers, especially those with high intensity cropping
systems, make management decisions with a long-term focus, specifically the
accumulation of organic matter (Mandyk et al. 2014). Minimum and no-till management
systems, as described earlier, can prevent erosion, maintain aggregate stability, and
increase infiltration rate (Smith, 2016). Infiltration, a soil’s ability to permit the flow of
water through the soil column, aids in the temporary storage of water for use by plants
and animals (NRCS, 2014). According to Smith, infiltration was 43 times greater in NT
than CT systems, although the author notes that this is atypical; through a case study
analysis, the author found some evidence of increased yields in NT systems in the
Midwest, which could be attributed to improved infiltration and water storage.
Regardless of what studies have shown to increase yields, a short-term benefit of
specific management practices, minimum and no-till practices increase the long-term
sustainability and resilience of soils. Through minimal or no disturbance, soil biological

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abundance and diversity is left in-tact, with AMF hyphal networks left unobstructed.
Water is able to infiltrate without pooling or running off, erosion is minimized, and pore
space is maintained. Nutrients are less likely to be lost through leaching, and the
mineralization of C and N is minimized, keeping reserves for use by microorganisms
later. In summary, minimizing tillage, in conjunction with other soil conservation
management practices, has been shown to improve soil health in the long-term.

Cover Crops
Cover crops typically involve the cultivation of a grass or legume plant that
maintains soil coverage during a fallow period or between cash crops. They can be used
in conventional tillage during fallow periods, when the vegetative cover is plowed under
and disked in in preparation for an upcoming crop; this practice, however, can leave soils
vulnerable to erosion and runoff. In conservation and no-till systems, cover crops may
also be used, although fears of weed suppression have been cited. Other techniques, like
mowing or using a roller-crimper to terminate the cover crop, allow for continuous soil
coverage with the added benefits of weed suppression and mulch coverage (Jokela &
Nair, 2016). Due to establishment and management costs, competition with cash crops
and issues with residue management and irrigation, many farmers are hesitant to use
cover crops, especially in year-round continuous cash crop systems like California’s
Central Valley (Mitchell et al., 2017).
Maintaining soil coverage is one of the best ways to prevent soil degradation.
With permanent aboveground coverage and thick root systems, soils can be held in place
in high-saturation periods, like during the winter and fallow seasons and can prevent the
splash effects caused by raindrop impacts on bare soil. During the wintertime when

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cover crops are typically planted, freezing of aboveground biomass limits the plants’
aboveground capacity to mitigate erosion loss. De Baets et al. (2011) compared 5
different types of cover crops and their abilities in reducing erosion loss: white mustard
(Sinapis alba), phacelia (Phacelia tanacetifoli) ryegrass (Lolium perenne), oat (Avena
sativa), and fodder radish (Raphanus sativus subsp. Oleiferus). The authors found that
cover crops with thick roots, like the white mustard and fodder radish, were less able to
prevent erosion loss in the wintertime than ‘fine-branched’ root systems like ryegrass.
An important point to be made is that while cover crops are generally beneficial to
overall soil health, the selection of cover crops based on individual land and soil needs
should be considered.
Using a legume or grass cover crop during fallow periods improves soil properties
like increased C and N, increased SOM, erosion mitigation, and reduced erosion (Udom
& Omovbude, 2018). Different types of cover crops provide different benefits; for
leguminous crops like alfalfa, clover or vetch, these plants work with symbiotic N-fixing
bacteria to increase the soil’s pool of organic N. In a study conducted in the GoianaCeres Campus in brazil typified by low levels of OM, a number of legume varieties
(Crotalaria spectabilis L. and Mucuna aterrima L.) added 46 kg/ha of N to soils (Sousa
et al. 2013). Grasses with deep roots, on the other hand, are able to seek out nutrients that
could be lost through leaching. In the same study, Millet (Pennisetum glaucum L.)
extracted 3.9 kg/ha of N to grasses through intercropping (Sousa et al. 2013).
In addition, Cover crops have been shown to increase infiltration rates, improve
soil aggregation, enhance porosity and hydraulic conductivity, as well as reduce runoff
(Smith, 2014). In a 15-year study conducted by Mitchell et al. (2017), various cover-

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cropping and tillage systems were compared in California’s San Joaquin Valley. With a
cover crop mix of Juan triticale (Triticosecale), Merced rye (Secale cereale) and common
vetch (Vicia sativa), in conjunction with either conventional tillage (CT) or no-till (NT),
the authors yielded 2.8 times faster infiltration rates with CC regardless of tillage system;
this is most likely due to the development of root channels in addition to the continuous
supply of C to fungi and bacteria, which aids in aggregate stabilization (Mitchell et al.,
2017). The average surface residue accumulation was highest in the no-till cover crop
trials with 92% accumulation over time. Cultivating and maintaining trash cover, as
previously explained, is a necessary part of management and a primary goal of
sustainable agricultural production. The cultivation of surface residues reduce erosion,
provide C and N to soil organisms, reduce water evaporation and lower soil temperatures
(Mitchell et al., 2017).
The authors also measured bulk density, %C and %N for the 4 tillage and cover
crop trials. Interestingly, bulk density was lower in the no-till no cover crop trials than
the cover crop trials at a depth of 0-15 cm; at 15-30 cm, though, there was no difference.
For both %C and %N, cover crops had a positive influence on the accumulation of both
nutrients; however, no-till systems had a more significant impact on %C and %N. For
%C, there were on average between the two sampling dates 16.5% more C for the CC
treatments than not. For %N, approximately 11% N increase was attributed to cover crop
inclusion in management practices. (Mitchell et al., 2017)
While all four treatments yielded total C accumulation over the length of the
fifteen-year study, no-till with CC had the greatest overall increase in total C: 29.1
tons/ha for NTCC, 21.6 tons/ha for NT with no CC, 16.8 tons/ha with CT and CC; and

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11.5 tons/ha with CT and no CC. These results show that both cover crops and tillage
reduction have a positive impact on C accumulation in soils (Mitchell et al., 2017). As
previously discussed, since SOM is largely made up of C (around 60% SOC in SOM),
one can deduce that cover crops and tillage contribute to OM accumulation in arid
climates.
Since yield is clearly of high priority to producers, the study also measured
impacts on yield based on cropping systems. Cotton and tomato rotations along with one
rotation of Sorghum and garbanzo beans with subsequent yields were measured
throughout the study. From 2000-2009, tomatoes had a 5.7% higher yield without cover
crops and 4.8% greater yield for cotton without cover crops as well. The authors attribute
this period to a learning curve for adoption of new management practices. For the sample
period between 2010-2013, though, there were no yield differences between trials
(Mitchell et al., 2017). While maintaining yield stability is an important pre-requisite for
farmers in implementing sustainable agricultural practices (Boehm & Burton, 1997), the
benefits of improved soil health with the implementation of a cover crop (increased
infiltration rates, aggregation, respiration and increased soil C and N) paired with lower
production costs, reduced inputs, water conservation, higher C and N stored in the soil
and plants, as well as lowered dust and particulate matter emissions are all benefits that
should be considered aside from increased profits from higher yields (Mitchell et al.,
2017).

Perennial crops
Perennial plants include grains, oil seed legumes, trees and forages that can be
cultivated intensively with minimal to no soil disturbance. These plants are able to

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regrow and continue to produce fruit, seed, grains or biomass every year, as opposed to
annual crops which are planted, create above and belowground biomass in a single
season, produce fruit, and then die. The difference between perennial and annual
cropping system is the length of time the crop is alive. With annual crops, the above and
belowground biomass production is limited to one season. For perennial crops,
conversely, both types of biomass are able to continue to grow for multiple years;
because of this, OM will undoubtedly increase (Leakey, 2011).
The inclusion of perennial trees in agroforestry initiatives is beneficial for habitat
niche biological diversity, since within perennial systems, minimal soil disturbance and
maximized living plant biomass encourages belowground organismal abundance and
diversification and can help improve nutrient, C and hydrologic cycles and can help make
the crops themselves more resilient to disease and pest pressures (Leakey, 2011). Other
benefits to overall soil health include: reduced soil erosion and additions of SOM,
increased rates of infiltration and storage, buffering to environmental and pH changes, as
well as above and belowground C sequestration (Dixon & Garrity, 2014).
In a study conducted by Ernst et al. (2018), a crop-pasture rotation of three or
four-year annual cash crops production of wheat paired with a three or four-year grasslegume pasture under no-till management were then converted to a continuous annual
cropping rotation of wheat under no-till management in the eastern Pampas of South
America. The authors measured the impact of agricultural intensification of annual
cropping systems on soil properties (in addition to overall crop yield) which included:
SOC, soil P, exchangeable K, mineralizable N (nitrate concentration), texture, and field
water infiltration rate. After 10 years of continuous cropping, the average yield loss was

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1.4 Mg/ha, a 21% decrease; in addition, the authors found an increase in ‘platy structure’
of the soil by 51%. Platiness is often associated with increased runoff and reduced rootability and water infiltration rates. The Amount of mineralizable N was reduced
gradually after conversion to a continuous annual cropping system, as well (Ernst et al.,
2018). Switching from a crop-pasture system to continuous cropping negatively
impacted soil physical structure and N availability, as illustrated in the previously cited
study.
Other studies highlight the benefits of Agroforestry initiatives; including
diversified trees and cropping systems with both annual and perennial crops and may
sometimes include livestock (Barrios et al., 2012). Agroforestry systems have been
shown to increase habitat niches, contributing to soil macro and micro-fauna diversity;
increased species abundance includes: earthworms, beetles, centipedes, millipedes,
termites, ants, collembola, mites, and both parasitic and non-parasitic nematodes (Barrios
et al., 2012). These complex above- and belowground agricultural systems have also
been found to increase the amount of C in plants, roots, and the soil as well as aid in
nutrient cycling. Through the promulgation of species abundance and diversity, increases
in SOM and C sequestration have been found in agroforestry initiatives; in addition,
nutrient availability as a by-product of soil microbial and fungal processes, like N
availability, have also been found (Barrios et al. 2012). In summary, the inclusion of
perennial crops into agricultural systems has been shown to improve overall soil health.
Another method to improve soil biological properties is by diversifying crop rotations.

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Crop rotation
As previously discussed, increased above and belowground biodiversity has been
shown to have a number of benefits for soil biological, physical and chemical properties
(Barrios, 2007). Incorporating diversified cropping systems into a farm management
plan provides a variety of residues are incorporated into the soil, diversifying available
organic matter, supplying a wider range of nutrients (Rangarajan, 2005) In addition,
incorporating multiple crop types into an agro-ecosystem may also diversify production,
allowing farmers and land managers to benefit from different crops at different times;
however, it can be tricky to create a good rotation system that produces the type and
quantity of desired crops (Johnson & Toensmeier, 2009). Regardless, the soil health
benefits of diversified cropping systems include: improved crop yields, workability and
soil tilth; increased water availability and and organic matter content; reduced soil
crusting, erosion, as well as fertilizer and insecticide inputs (NRCS, 2009).
Nunes et al. (2018) quantified the long-term tillage and cover crop/crop rotation
effects on soil health in a temperate climate in New York State. Over 24 years, the four
treatments included plow tillage (PT) and no-till (NT) paired with a continuous corn crop
and a 6 year corn, 6 year grass followed by twelve year corn rotation. While tillage had
the largest positive impact on soil health (17% more OM, 65% more protein in OM, 95%
more P, 66% more Zn, 76% increase in water aggregate stability, and 17% increase in
respiration), the inclusion of cover crops and crop rotation augmented these benefits. The
24-year continuous corn rotation had 17% lower OM and 17% lower respiration rates
than the 12-year corn mono-crop after grass; most notably, crop rotation, NT and cover
crops had the largest positive impact on soil biological properties (Nunes et al., 2018).

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According to the authors: “from a bio-physical-agronomic perspective, no till
systems, especially when adopted with diversified cropping systems offer farmers
opportunities to improve soil health while maintaining intensive crop production” (Nunes
et al., 2018, p. 42). In addition, crop yields also increased under NT and crop rotation for
the loamy fine sand and silt loam soils; however, since NT usually results in poor
drainage for clay soils, there was no increase in yields for this soil type. Not only does
the inclusion of crop rotation (along with other sustainable farm management practices)
potentially improve yield but the improvement in SOM levels, diversification of crop
nutrients added to the soil, and mitigating potential disease and pest infestations, farmers
can also potentially save money on fertilizers and pesticides (Johnson & Toensmeier,
2009).
The application of manure and biosolids on soil quality indicators has also been
heavily researched. Karlen & Obrycki (2018) conducted a study on four field-scale
treatments in Iowa, measuring the effects of different crop rotations paired with varying
amounts of a biosolids/manure mixture. The soil quality indicators measured included:
bulk density, microbial biomass C, pH, electrical conductivity, organic C, aggregate
stability, extractable nutrients, and various forms of N.

Compost, manure and biosolids application
Applying organic materials (crop residues, compost, manure, and biosolids) to the
soil is a common practice used to improve soil quality and serve as a means for waste
disposal. According to Brown et al. (2011), people in Washington State on average
generate 60 pounds of biosolids (digested solids from wastewater treatment systems) and
food waste, and 150 pounds of yard waste annually; in addition, each person consumes

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animals that generate 10,000 pounds of manure! Crops like mint and hops, for example,
also generate large amounts of waste; herbs used to distill essential oils, or plants that are
processed for beer, leave large quantities of crop residue that can be applied to fields in
an essentially digested state. What’s most beneficial in the application of these specific
organic materials is the microbial digestion that takes place, oxidizing or breaking down
residues for easy uptake by soil microorganisms. In so doing, these microorganisms
supply both macro- and micronutrients to plants in a readily-available state.

Amendment
C:N Ratio
NH4-N
PAN (%) Field PAN (%) Lab
Dry boiler litter 9
6.3
41
45
Composted
9
7.3
38
45
Dairy solids
27
1.5
9
1
Composted
20
0.6
5
8
Yard trimmings 13
3.0
19
25
Composted
17
0.7
5
5
BioGro
5
1.1
77
57
Canola meal
8
0.1
60
41
Feather Meal
4
2
99(?)
74
Mint slugs
10
0.4
7
3
Table 1: plant available nitrogen (PAN) of organic soil amendments
(adapted from Granatstein, 2012-2013.)
Compost, manure and biosolids are all materials that have varying nutrient
contents depending on the nutrient content and treatment process of the added materials.
Compost is frequently used as a blanket term for decomposed plant waste, manure, and
biosolids, but for the purposes of this study, I will refer to it as vegetable waste. For
compost, materials include: food processing residuals, agricultural by-products, forestry
residuals, and yard waste (Farrell & Jones, 2009). Manure originates from dairy and
livestock feedlots, and if not disposed of or contained properly can have serious negative
impacts on local streams and waterways. Biosolids, or sewage sludge, is a solid material

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by-product of the wastewater treatment system. All three products have been shown to
increase SOM, and consequently improving a number of other chemical, physical and
biological properties of the soil (Farrell & Jones, 2009.). The following section considers
all three organic materials and their benefits to improving soil health.
In a six-year field experiment, D’Hose et al. (2014) compared the relationship
between crop production and soil quality based on the application of compost
amendments to a loamy sand alfisol (a soil order characterized by higher clay contents
and slightly higher acidity). Four crops (fodder beet, forage maize, brussel sprouts, and
potato) were grown with equal applications of plant-available N, P and K from both
fertilizers and compost. SOC, hot-water extractable C, total N, extractable P and K, bulk
density, penetration resistance, aggregate stability, microbial biomass, and presence of
earthworms, nematodes and ergosterol (an indicator of fungal biomass) were used to
measure soil health. In addition, crop yields were measured throughout the duration of
the experiment. The study found that repeated applications of farm compost improved
SOC and total N levels, extractable K, lowered bulk density and increased aggregate
stability, and positively influenced biological diversity and abundance (D’Hose et al.,
2014). The authors also found correlations between increased SOC content and higher
yields for fodder beets and potatoes, with yields of potatoes and fodder maize expected to
increase the most with increases in SOC. According to this study, compost applications
have been shown to improve overall soil health (D’Hose et al., 2014).
Animals produce massive amounts of waste that need to be disposed of in a safe
and efficient matter. As highlighted by Brown et al. (2011), people in the state of
Washington contribute to an average of 10,000 pounds of animal-generated waste per

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person. If not properly disposed of, this waste runs the risk of contaminating waterways
with excess N, P and other nutrients that contribute to eutrophication and other
environmentally degradative effects. The benefits of manure are that aside from
transportation and application costs, manure is free; it has been shown to improve a
variety of soil health indicators like increased OM, improved structure and water-holding
capacity, increased CEC and reduced erosion; and provides both readily available and
slow-release macro- and micronutrients for uptake by soil organisms and plants (Farrell
& Jones, 2009).
In Yunnan, China, Zou et al. (2017) conducted an 18-year study monitoring the
effects of crop rotation and manure amendment on tobacco production. Eight treatments
were observed: two rotations of tobacco monocrop and tobacco with a two-year rice
rotation, paired with varying fertilizer applications: 0, 75, and 112 kg N fertilizer per
hectare with one treatment of 60 kg N fertilizer and composted swine manure applied at a
rate of 15,000 kg/ha. Soil quality indicators measured included: soil aggregate stability,
SOC, total soil N and bulk density; all were observed in the 8 treatments at 0-10 cm and
10-20 cm. The authors found that fertilizer and manure applications paired with crop
rotation increased soil aggregate stability and organic matter content; however, the
manure-applied treatments had higher bulk density than was expected, possibly due to
variation in soil texture or land use due to tillage intensity. In addition, the manure and
fertilizer treatment increased SOC and total soil N compared to the typical fertilizer
application rate for tobacco of 75 kg N fertilizer/ha. Aside from the bulk density
measurement, manure application paired with crop rotation improved aggregate stability

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through the addition of organic matter, in addition to increasing levels of SOC and soil N
(Zou et al., 2017).
While manure has been shown to add benefits to the soil, there are some
significant drawbacks. The most notable being that if applied in excess, nutrients can be
lost through volatilization (NH4 lost to the atmosphere if not incorporated properly or
applied during wet conditions) but can also leach through the soil layers (Brady & Weil,
2010). This leaching not only results in a loss of money due to lost nutrients but has been
shown to contribute to the eutrophication of above and belowground water sources. The
dead zone in the Gulf of Mexico is an example of the ill-effects of improper nutrient
management which can result from either synthetic or organic fertilizers (van Grinsven et
al., 2014). Manure is challenging to transport, especially when wet. Also, if not stored
under proper conditions or exposed to contaminating bacteria, may be host to pathogens
like fecal coliform or E. coli. Recently, the use of high levels of antibiotics have been
considered for both biosolids and manures, which may have negative impacts on soil
microbial and fungal populations (Xie et al., 2018; Yang et al., 2018). If purchased from
sources that use minimal antibiotics, is stored properly, and is applied using the 4 R’s
(which will be discussed later), manure can substantially benefit soil health.

Figure 2: Biosolids treatment process from source to agricultural application
(Courtesy of King County Wastewater Treatment Division, 2016)
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Biosolids are the culmination of organic solids from the wastewater treatment
process. As illustrated in Image 2 waste from residential and commercial sources is ran
through a number of filtration systems to remove non-organic trash and allow microbes
to process the waste; once the final product meets all of the EPA’s standards for
biosolids, they are then applied to at least 15,000 acres of land in Washington state
(Loop). Biosolids have a controversial past: when waste streams from manufacturing
were mixed with residential and commercial sectors, high levels of toxic chemicals and
heavy metals were found. Understandably, the public was outraged, and sustainable
agricultural initiatives like the Organic movement prohibited the use of biosolids (Sharma
et al. 2017, Rodale Institute 2013).
In the past few decades, the EPA and other monitoring agencies have increased
their monitoring of biosolids production, which now must meet a number of stringent
ceilings for heavy metal content as well as pathogens (Walker, 1994). As illustrated in
Image 2 Loop Biosolids, King County’s by-product of the wastewater treatment process,
is well below the EPA’s ceiling for heavy metal concentrations in biosolids. In addition,
Class B biosolids (which make up the majority of biosolids applied in Washington state)
must test to prove that the products are at least 95% free of potential pathogens and
bacteria that can harm humans and animals. Biosolids have a controversial past, it is clear
that measures are being taken, especially in Washington state, to ensure that biosolids
applied to the land are safe for humans, animals and the environment (Loop).

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Figure 3: Permitted levels of regulated metals in Loop Biosolids
(Courtesy of King County Wastewater Treatment Division, 2016)
Biosolids have been shown to increase a number of soil properties which include:
physical components like aggregate stability, increased water-holding capacity, and
decreased bulk density; chemical factors like increased macro- and micronutrient
concentrations, electrical conductivity, Organic C levels and the presence of humic acids;
biological characteristics like increased abundance and diversity of soil organisms
(Sharma et al., 2017). Biosolids have also been shown to increase SOC, and
subsequently SOM; Wijesekara et al. (2017) compared biosolids-amended soils with unamended soil in New South Wales, Australia. There were a total of four cropping
systems including: canola, wheat, fodder sorghum, and a fallow plot. Soil properties
measured in the treatments included: soil pH, electrical conductivity, total C, total N,

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total S, and soil microbial respiration. Results indicated that biosolids-applied sites had
increased total C, and a positive effect on soil microbial activity; however, biosolids
amended sites had increased CO2 emissions, indicating an inability to sequester C for the
given sites. Even without the added benefits of soil C sequestration, biosolids
applications proved to be beneficial for soil microorganism populations and for
increasing total C.
Organic amendments are useful tools that can contribute to a number of soil
chemical, physical and biological properties. The proper sourcing, application and
management of these materials are necessary for truly beneficial impacts to the soil and
plants, and to minimize negative impacts to the soil. This section indicates that while
organic amendments are a worthwhile option for the soil and plants, they may not be
right for every operation. Synthetic fertilizers have received significant criticism in the
recent past, and rightfully so; they’re wide-scale production and application has
contributed to greenhouse gas emissions, and their misuse has resulted in contaminated
ecosystems. Regardless, when used in conjunction with other sustainable management
practices, synthetic fertilizers can contribute to soil and plant health. It is necessary that
whatever nutrient source is used, farmers and land managers follow the four R’s of
nutrient management: Right Source, Right Rate, Right Time and Right Place.

Right Source, Right Rate, Right Time, Right Place
Each farm and farmer have unique circumstances in regard to nutrient imports and
exports; however, with any agricultural system, nutrients and organic materials are
produced from the soil, but are harvested and removed for sale. This results in an
inherent nutrient deficit, which needs to be resupplied by either the addition of organic or

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synthetic amendments. In a post-industrial agricultural mentality, and with the advent of
organic agriculture, much of the public views synthetic fertilizers and conventional
practices as contributors to climate change, environmental degradation, and public health
risks. Historically, these practices have contributed to these factors, but largely through
their misuse. Synthetic fertilizers, in general, provide a highly concentrated amount of
many of the macro- and micronutrients necessary for crop production (Brady & Weil,
2010). While it’s true that they are intensive to mine and manufacture, they can offer a
more direct nutrient benefit to crops than organic amendments and cover crops alone.
Since it is nearly impossible to create a one-size-fits-all approach to nutrient
management on any farm, the 4 R’s of nutrient management have been proposed.
Applying the right source at the right rate during the right time and in the right place
ensures nutrient use efficiency and minimal impacts to the environment (The Fertilizer
Institute, 2017). These factors are not isolated, but are frequently interconnected, like for
placement and timing; for either organic or synthetic fertilizers, it is essential that the
source is incorporated in the best location for plant uptake, as well as at the proper life
stage of the plant (Hochmuth et al., 2014). The following section will explore each of
these factors and will address how farmers can decide what’s best for their specific
operation.
Right source refers not only to the most cost-effective nutrient available, but also
to selecting the material with the ideal, texture, quality, state (wet or dry), pH, and
nutrient content for their operation (Hochmuth et al., 2014). For instance, it would be
difficult for a farmer to use a granular fertilizer if he only has a liquid sprayer or doesn’t
have the appropriate machinery to spread manure on his fields. This also refers to the

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needs of the soil; if soil sampling reveals a P deficiency as well as low levels of organic
matter, compost, manure or biosolids may be appropriate; however, if a farm is certified
organic, they must follow specific guidelines for the type of compost or manure applied
and cannot use biosolids. The inclusion of cover crops may also be considered if a
farmer wants to add N with legumes or scavenge for nutrients throughout the soil profile
with grasses. Finding the most ideal source is very important to proper fertility
management.
Right rate is determined by calculating plant needs and subtracting nutrient results
provide by soil samples (NRCS, 2014). Unfortunately, nutrient availability is not always
as easy as a simple calculation. Some fertilizers are more readily available than others,
and certain climatic conditions have a significant influence on most macro- and
micronutrients. Heavy rainfall and high temperatures increase the potential for
ammonium (NH4) to volatilize into ammonia (Nh3) and be lost to the atmosphere (Brady
& Weil, 2010). This can also refer to the application of fertilizers and amendments
throughout the growing season. Farmers do not typically apply all fertilizers during the
pre-plant phase; they may apply a portion during pre-plant and may supplement with
side-dress applications (which will be covered in the right placement section) at some
point during the growing season.
Right rate is closely linked with timing, since climatic conditions and crop stages
depend on time. Timing also varies with each crop. NRCS (2014) recommends applying
fertilizers with crop growth rates to reduce potential nutrient losses through leaching and
runoff; therefore, having an understanding of the right timing for nutrient application
allows an individual to maximize use efficiency and minimize losses (The Fertility

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Institute, 2017). In reference to climatic conditions, predicting weather patterns can
present an added challenge. Farmers should therefore pay close attention to rain events
when applying nutrients and should have an understanding of how their intended
amendment reacts with varying amounts of rain (Hochmuth et al., 2014).
Right place is also crop and farm-specific; fertilizers should be placed where
plants can access them easily with minimal losses through volatilization, leaching, or
runoff (The Fertility Institute, 2017). According to Hochmuth et al. (2014) the most
effective placement is typically in the rhizosphere (or root zone) of the crops under
cultivation since most nutrient uptake occurs through the roots. There are four methods
for fertilizer application: band application, pop-up, broadcast or top-dressing and sidedressing (Strub et al., 2012). Band applications are frequently within 2 inches from the
seed, typically called the starter method; this provides for efficient nutrient supply to the
plants since it is in nearly direct contact with the seed itself. Pop-up applies fertilizer at
the same time as seed-planting; however, farmers must be mindful of the rate of
application, since seeds are at risk of burn from N and P. Broadcasting and topdressing
are the most common applications (and are typically the easiest) since they are applied on
the soil’s surface. They can be applied by hand or with machinery; however, most
fertilizers must be incorporated immediately with tillage or a similar process to prevent
volatilization or runoff. Finally, Side-dressing is performed during the growing season,
but have been pre-determined based on crop needs. For N specifically, this application
process is intended to supply N at the appropriate time when crops will need it for the
most efficient use of the fertilizer as possible (Strub et al., 2012).

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Utilizing the 4 R’s of nutrient management allows the farmer to supply adequate
nutrients to their crops, maximize the use efficiency of their fertilizers and amendments,
and minimize negative impacts to their local environments. It must be noted that these
actions are very complex, and farmers must be aware of a number of factors
simultaneously. Best management practices like these require much forethought and
planning on the part of the farmer, as well as an ability to identify constraints and address
problems as they are presented. In summary, farming is not an easy pursuit, especially if
it is done to maximize profits and minimize environmental impacts. However, it is
possible, and with the right support and motivation, farmers can maximize their profits
and minimize their impacts on local ecosystems.

Why we study the soil itself
As previously defined, Doran and Parkin (1994) define soil health as a soil’s
ability to: “accept, hold and release nutrients, chemical constituents and water; promote
sustainable root growth; maintain a suitable biotic habitat; respond to management; and
resisting degradation”. This definition shows that soil and agricultural scientists have
begun to understand the complex interplay of physical, chemical and biological factors
within the soil, and that no single indicator is sufficient to understand the soil’s functional
capacity (Doran, 2002). While great contributions have been made within the basic
research of soil and agricultural sciences, how can these findings prevent soil and
environmental degradation if research into the widespread dispersal or application of this
new knowledge is not emphasized?
It is therefore essential to combine basic and applied scientific inquiry in order to
truly understand how farmers collect information, where that knowledge originates, and

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how education and outreach can inform knowledge gaps. In addition, by broadening the
academic definition into other forms of knowledge collection and dissemination (i.e.
local and traditional ecological knowledge), academia can not only better identify how
best to inform farmers and land managers of new information but can also gain valuable
insight into the local and experience-based knowledge upheld by farmers. By combining
applied and basic research within a typical scientific framework, which emphasizes
universally applicable rules and laws, with the locally-based and site-specific knowledge
of farmers and land managers, scientists, agronomists, farmers and policymakers can
work cohesively to conserve natural resource use, mitigate ecosystemic and
environmental degradation, and improve soil health across local, regional, national and
global scales.

Farmers: The creation and dissemination of tacit knowledge
The prevalence of explicit knowledge in academia is largely due to the fact that it
is easy to communicate and collect, unlike tacit knowledge (collected by farmers) which
requires socialization and extensive time and energy to acquire (Hoffman et al., 2007). In
keeping with Jensen et al.’s (2007) definition of the different modes of learning, farmers
acquire knowledge through Doing, Using and Interacting (DUI). Farmers prioritize
experience and application (‘know-how’, ‘know-who’ and ‘broad view’), and constant
trial and error as well as interacting with actors from a range of experience levels and
backgrounds can foster strong relationships and understanding concerning a particular
issue (Ingram, 2008). Farmers have a much more diverse understanding of phenomena
than researchers in terms of climate, vegetation, resident macro- and microbiology, soil

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type, etc., which focuses on a specific region or locality. Therefore, innovation within
these groups pertains to the local environment, and are not universally applicable
(Hoffman et al., 2007).
According to Sumane et al. (2017):
“farmers’ knowledge is a subset of local knowledge that enables [these individuals] to
farm in specific local conditions. It is based on practical experience and often linked to a
practical skill. As agriculture is highly dependent on the local environment, local farmers’
knowledge is of particular importance as it contains an intimate understanding of the
particular set of local cultural and natural resources.” (p. 2)
This consideration of the entire system, which includes social, environmental, economic
or even spiritual components, highlights the complexity of agricultural communities, and
even the farm system itself12. As a holistic and dynamic system, farmers have acquired
the skill to consider a multitude of factors when determining how to best operate an agroecological system.
In addition to the DUI model described by Jensen et al. (2007), Okali et al. (1994)
considered 74 examples of farmer experimentation and found three forms of ‘local
learning’: learning during action, learning from chance, and structured experiments
similar to conventional experimentation. The most valuable form of structured
experimentation is learning during action, in which farmers make rolling adjustments as
part of their daily practice. This dynamic process is performed both consciously and
subconsciously, and because farmers live and work on their farm, they have more time
and direct contact with their observations than researchers (Okali et al., 1994).
Replication in a farm system occurs over time, rather than space, since farmers must
utilize their space to produce crops and maximize profits (Hoffman et al., 2007).
12

For further information, see: ‘Experience’ and ‘Trust in Internal and External Groups’ in the “Interviews”
section.

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In terms of the potential knowledge gained by farmers and other land managers,
Knapp and Fernandez-Gimenez (2009) state that rancher knowledge may even be able to
inform scientific insight into ecosystem processes, sustainable management practices and
interactions between human and natural communities; however, few studies have
considered the potential of rancher (or other land manager) knowledge regarding range
and farmland ecosystems. Scientific inquiry into crop development began 100 years ago,
and the first anthropologist to document farmers and crop experimentation took place in
1972, even though farmers and land managers have been experimenting with cropping
systems and the optimization of specific crops since the beginning of agriculture
(Hoffman et al., 2007). While it is possible for farmers to communicate their knowledge,
some of this information acquired through practice is lost. Hoffman et al. (2007) argues
that the externalization of tacit knowledge from expert farmers, by converting an implicit
knowledge-base into an explicit format, should be the focus of agricultural researchers; in
order to do so, researchers should develop new working tools that have been created
through their observation of practice-based action, as well as formulate instructions based
on these observations. Essentially, it is the agricultural researchers’ job to explicate
implicit knowledge. This will be covered further later in this review.
Unlike researchers who search for causation in experiments, and are prone to
failure when isolating variables, farmers practice ‘black-box’ experimentation, where
they can vary inputs into their system and observe outcomes without the need to explain
what’s happening within the system (i.e. black box). Although a valid form of
investigation, Hoffman et al. (2007) suggest that it is possible for farmers to arrive at
false conclusions under this model, since they do not seek to understand the ‘know-why’

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method practiced by scientists. For example, farmers may apply an excessive amount of
nitrogen fertilizer to their fields to ensure that they have a higher crop yield than the
previous year. Without the knowledge of the nitrogen cycle, and how excess nutrients
not taken up by plants can be lost to the atmosphere through ammonification or leached
out to groundwater sources, they may not know the environmental impacts of this
practice. If they do, however, observe an increase in crop production, they may continue
the practice without the knowledge of the potentially detrimental environmental impacts.
Scientists are therefore necessary to provide the ‘know-why’ of these natural processes
but need to develop ways to work with farmers in this capacity.
Hoffman et al. (2007) explain that there is great validity within farmer’s tacit
knowledge, and scientific inquiry into these types of knowledge is necessary to further
our overall understanding of agroecological systems. This point will be discussed in
greater detail in the next section; what must be stressed is that although tacit knowledge
contains technical elements, the complexity, time and effort necessary to accumulate and
communicate the tacit knowledge of expert farmers is extremely difficult, and due time
and effort constraints, scientists up to this point have neglected to explore this knowledge
base in great detail. “An expert generally knows what to do, he or she does not see
problems in some detached way and work at solving them… based on mature and
practiced understanding when deeply involved in coping with this environment. When
things proceed normally, experts don’t solve problems and don’t make decisions, they do
what normally works” (Hoffman et al. 2007, p. 362). As explained by the authors,
experienced farmers should be viewed as experts who have developed an intuitive and
‘non-reflective’ understanding of their environment.

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Pasquini and Alexander (2005) considered the soil fertility practices of farmers in
the Jos Plateau of Nigeria. As a site in need of reclamation due to land degradation from
decades of tin mining, the Mines Land Reclamation Unit deemed the land unsuitable for
reclamation. However, local farmer groups still worked tirelessly, and found that a
combination of animal manure, organic urban waste ash and inorganic fertilizers proved
successful in reviving the land. The authors point out that, as discussed earlier, “each
farmer had a complex and different strategy the he believed was optimal for his land,
suggesting that the farmers have learnt over the course of the years what produces the
best results in terms of satisfactory crop growth and development, and through
experimentation and careful observation” (Pasquini & Alexander, 2005, p. 115) . Based
on their own understanding of their land, expert farmers were able to improve soil
fertility through a combination of amendments that was replicated over time (Pasquini
and Alexander 2005)13.
As described by Hoffman et al. (2007), there is a need to better understand these
forms of knowledge and make them more explicit and usable by others. The following
section will address this point in great detail, but what must not happen is the
‘scientification’ of these forms of knowledge; scientists must not transform expert
farmers and land managers into scientists but must instead observe and translate their
tacit knowledge into more readily-communicable forms (Hoffman et al. 2007). The
authors considered the CIAL (Committees of Local Agricultural Investigation) model of
Latin America, a community-based research initiative that feeds local results back into a
formal academic system. Hoffman et al. (2007) points out that it can be useful to teach

13

For more information, see the role of intuition in the Experience section, p. 118

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farmers some principles of formal experimentation; however, the most knowledge can be
acquired from expert farmers and land managers if scientists respect their ‘tried and true’
epistemologies and be the actors to translate this knowledge for use in a broader sense.

Lack of knowledge depth in farmers’ broad understanding
As previously discussed, farmers’ typically practice ‘black box’ experimentation,
which can explain how farmers are more aware of crop production as opposed to soil
function, since plant health is typically easier to identify than soil health (Lobry de Bruyn
& Abbey, 2002; Ingram et al., 2010). This can be especially problematic in a time of
environmental and soil degradation due to agriculture. New sustainable management
practices must replace the old Productivist model that supports intensive tillage, mono
cropping, and the excess application of synthetic nutrients. Ingram (2008) sought to
understand how well-equipped farmers are in adapting and adopting new farming
practices to increase soil conservation.
Especially in sustainable farming practices, which are locally based, and contextspecific, Ingram (2008) examined whether or not farmers had the intellectual tools
necessary to meet the demands of sustainable agriculture. The author used two methods
of data collection: they first conducted semi-structured interviews of 17 farmers and 64
agricultural advisors, in addition to surveying 304 advisors. In so doing, the author
considered how well-educated farmers were of best management practice (BMPs), and
how agronomists perceived farmers’ capabilities for more sustainable agricultural
practices. The author found a range of competencies with farmers, with most being
professional, highly-skilled and have a bachelor’s degree; these individuals could
effectively prepare fertilizer recommendations, use and interpret research results, and also

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had a relative grasp of the soil nitrogen cycle (Ingram 2008). However, only 40% of
advisors surveyed and interviewed believed farmers were equipped to meet the challenge
of implementing sustainable agriculture on their farms.
While farmers have a broad understanding of ‘good husbandry practices’, they
lack the depth of understanding required to see causal relationships between their actions
and environmental impacts. Ingram (2008) found that farmers were able to explain
problems and identify mismanagement like erosion and runoff, although many did not
connect their own practices with environmental degradation. As previously described,
farmers exhibited a broad ‘working knowledge’ of their own soil and understood the
texture, drainage patterns and physical properties on their own land. They could also
identify spatial and topographical variation as well as the physical properties and soil’s
responses to management (Ingram, 2008).
The author argues that since Productivist agricultural practices are easily
applicable and do not necessarily account for context-specificity, many farmers fall back
on these methods when lack of knowledge in sustainable practices exists. When
considering the application of manure, a sustainable management practice which requires
some knowledge of nutrient cycling and the ability to budget nutrients, many farmers are
reluctant or unable to measure the amounts of manure applied, and farmers use rough
estimations or no estimation at all when applying this nutrient (Ingram, 2008). In
addition, as farms continue to grow in size, farmers are interacting with their soil less,
resulting in a loss of personal accountability of their own management practices.
While farmers have a breadth of knowledge acquired through experience, their
lack of depth results in a loss of personal accountability, reluctance to change, and

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challenges when thinking in terms of site-specificity in relation to sustainable
management practices. A paradox arises here, because farmers, as historically local
practitioners of tacit knowledge, work within specific contexts on a daily basis. Ingram
(2008) argues that with the rise of the Productivist era, farmers replaced locally based soil
knowledge with advanced science and technology originating from academic settings,
resulting in universally-applied prescriptions with the goal of commodification and
increased yields. The dominance of the scientific model, as previously discussed,
provided increased yields and an array of technological advances, but at the cost of
extreme environmental degradation.

Understanding Tacit Knowledge: Interview Analysis
Many publications have attempted to explicate farmer’s implicit knowledge
through semi-structured interview analysis. This method has provided a better
understanding of the knowledge possessed by farmers concerning: conservation practices,
local soil taxonomies, management practices that improve or degrade soil health, among
other important measurements of soil health knowledge (Knapp & Fernandez-Gimenez,
2009; Dawoe et al., 2012). Many of these inquiries attempt to understand farmers’ nonscientific knowledge forms by analyzing their demographic, educational and social
characteristics; they then compare these responses with management practices or
incentives for implementing sustainable agricultural and soil management. According to
Burton (2014), who will be discussed throughout this section, farmers’ management
decisions cannot be understood from a single factor but must be thought of as existing in
complex systems with unique constraints specific to each person and each farm. It is still

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of value to consider these factors in relation to farmers’ soil health knowledge; the
following section reviews previous literature and considers the demographic information,
education, experience, social influence, trust in private and public sector agricultural
support, farming philosophy, and aversion to risk as potential influences on farmers’ soil
health knowledge.

Demographic Information
This section contemplates previous research findings concerning the age, gender,
birthplace and occupation of farmers and land managers and how these factors relate to
their farming philosophy, management practices, and soil health knowledge. Burton
(2014) conducted a meta-analysis of 53 publications that sought to find causal
relationships between demographic characteristics (age, experience, education and
gender) and farmers’ adoption of environmentally conscious agri-management schemes.
As defined by the author: “environmental behavior thus refers to engagement with agrienvironmental/conservation programs or farming practices that are widely accepted as
more environmentally benign than intensive agriculture or that improve biodiversity on
the farm”14 (Burton, 2014, p. 20). This investigation of multiple causal explanations of
agri-environmental management yielded interesting results; while the most commonly
tested variables were age and education, at least 30% of publications reviewed for this
analysis showed no causal relationship between age, experience, education or gender.
This lack of certainty with variables suggests complexity with farmers’ adoptions to agri-

14

For more information on sustainable management practices, see the Management to improve SOM, p.
82

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environmental management practices, and that in many cases, no single factor completely
influences farmers’ management decisions (Burton, 2014).
As a key reference to this review, Burton’s (2014) identification of complex
factors influencing farmers’ decision-making can be expressed in the inter-play between
age, education, and experience. According to the author, age relates to education through
the ‘cohort effect’, experience serves as a direct representation of age, and education and
experience are linked since both increase social capital and influence what is socially
acceptable within farmer groups15. The author therefore cautions against the
consideration of isolated characteristics for six reasons: (1) these relationships are clearly
connected; (2) there are too many causal pathways within these relationships; (3) it is
necessary to consider how the diversity of ‘scheme factors’ influence ‘farmer factors’; (4)
there is a need for a more in-depth analysis than normally occurs; (5) the number of years
of education or highest education attained should not be considered since quality is more
important than quantity for this factor; and finally, (6) demographic characteristics are
generally considered linearly, which is not the case (Burton, 2014). The following
sections will consider separate demographic variables and will emphasize the connections
and inter-play between different characteristics.

Age
While Burton’s (2014) findings suggest that younger farmers may be more
environmentally-oriented than older generations, experience with specific agrimanagement regimes, or type of education, complicate one’s ability to consider this

15

For more information on social capital and social influence on farmers’ management decisions,Farmers’
internal and external groups, p. 125.

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factor in isolation. In regard to the younger cohort’s prevalence towards agrienvironmental management, Wilson (2001) discusses the prevalence of Productivism
with older generations. The author found that the Productivist paradigm, as previously
discussed, gained popularity after World War II, coinciding with the rise of the Green
Revolution. This era limited regulation on environmental degradation, allowing farmers
to manage their land as they pleased, which typically involved more mechanization and a
greater use of biochemical inputs. Although some young farmers and land managers
uphold some of these Productivist practices of intensive agriculture, much of the
agricultural community is experiencing a shift towards sustainable practices.
Brodt et al. (2006) found that farmers that were 45 or younger were more likely to
be considered ‘environmental stewards’. By using a Q methodological approach, the
authors asked 21 almond growers and 19 wine grape growers in California’s Central
Valley to sort 48 statements that reflected their beliefs, management goals and overall
values. With the help of agricultural researchers, public policy agents and farmers, the
authors carefully crafted each statement to include one of three economic factors (profit,
stability, and growth) and one of four satisfaction factors (family, leisure, type of work
environment, and social responsibility for resource conservation). Based on their
findings, the author grouped farmers into three categories: environmental stewards,
production maximizers, and Networking Entrepreneurs (Brodt et al., 2006). 41% of
farmers that selected more environmental stewardship responses were under 45 years of
age, while 64% were considered production maximizers; for the network entrepreneurs,
56% were 56-55 years of age.

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The most telling piece of information though are the similarities between each
group. The authors found 4 statements that resonated with all three groups: “Working
outdoors and watching my crop develop is the best part of farming. The profitability of
the farm is important to me because I want to preserve it for future generations. Field
days and workshops help me to be innovative because I can exchange the latest
information with farmers. Investing in new technology such as precision type spray
equipment is a good way to reduce pesticide use and protect the environment” (Brodt et
al., 2006, p. 95). This shows that most farmers participating in the study identify with all
of these categories, and while some may align more closely with one group than another,
information may be lost when categorizing farmers in this matter.
As expressed by Burton (2014), the case for finding correlation within individual
demographic variables is complex and usually must be used in conjunction with other
factors; the author argues that age may be used as a proxy for experience. Farmers that
have more experience or education with environmental stewardship, including soil health
maintenance, may be more likely to incorporate similar programs into their management
regime. As previously discussed, different time periods emphasized different trends;
during the second half of the 20th century, academics and agricultural advisors
emphasized Productivist management regimes, while the 21st century shows signs of a
‘soil health renaissance’ with an emphasis on sustainable practices to improve soil quality
for crop production. This suggests that age, experience, and social capital are all
impacted by these trends, further suggesting that single-variable analysis may dilute the
complex nature and individuality of each farmer.

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Sense of Place and Connection to the Land
Two additional demographic features of consideration are original birthplace and
occupation. Birthplace refers to where the individual was born, and where they spent
their early years. This concept was referenced earlier within Local Ecological
Knowledge; it is of value to consider whether or not a person has more soil health
knowledge if they were born on the same property where they currently farm. In
addition, considering the occupation of the farmer or land manager in question may also
provide insight into their soil health knowledge as well. Whether or not they are a full or
part-time farmer, a manager or fertility specialist in a farming operation may impact their
soil health knowledge, since they may not have the personal connection to the land that
an owner or full-time farmer may have.
Sense of Place theory, as expressed through place dependence and place identity,
describe both a functional relationship (through dependence on a given environment) as
well as the mental, spiritual and emotional attachment one feels for an area. Mullendore
et al. (2015) explored these topics in a survey of 341 participants as a means to
understand the relationship farmers and land managers feel towards the environments in
which they ‘inhabit, recreate and manage’. Through an analysis of the role of place
identity, place dependence and place attachment, the authors compared the employment
of a variety of conservation practices (conservation tillage, buffers and grassed
waterways) with conservation program enrollment (Mullendore et al., 2015).
51% of the respondents were enrolled in at least one government-sponsored
program like the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP), the Environmental Quality
Incentive Program (EQIP) or the Environmental Stewardship Program (ESP). In terms of

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conservation management practice used, 74% used conservation tillage, 46% use buffer
strips, and 78% use grassed waterways. Place identity significantly predicted enrollment
in a conservation program and the employment of buffers and grassed waterways, while
place attachment was a better predictor for conservation tillage, but not the other two
management practices; place dependency, on the other hand, was not as significant as the
other two scales measured (Mullendore et al., 2015).16 This article demonstrates the
value of increased awareness of the relationship between a farmer or land manager’s
place of origin, connection to their home, and how this bond may be used as a predictor
for the use of various conservation practices.

Experience
As discussed earlier, the LEK of farmers is of great value (Davis & Wagner,
2003). The role of experience, either through the number of years of farming, the amount
of time one inhabits an area, or the tendency to stick with certain familiar management
practices, will be considered here. The LEK of farmers, and subsequently, their soil
health knowledge, is largely influenced by their experience in farming, the amount of
time they’ve lived in a given area, and the family in which they were raised (Goulet,
2013; Iniesta-Arandia et al., 2014). According to Hoffman et al. (2007), “Intuition is
understood as neither wild guessing nor supra-natural inspiration, but as the
understanding that effortlessly occurs upon seeing similarities with previous experiences”
(p. 362). As a Doing, Using, and Interacting (DUI) mode of learning, experience is
essential to the accumulation and expression of a farmer’s soil health knowledge (Jensen

16

For more information on intrinsic vs. extrinsic motivations for environmental management, see the
Voluntary incentives for sustainable management, p. 155.

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et al., 2007). In addition, experience may be tied directly to an individual’s practices; if
someone is more familiar with a given practice, like conservation tillage, for instance,
they are more comfortable carrying out that practice.
Farmers possess embedded knowledge that originates from inhabiting an area and
observing the natural processes taking place over time (Knapp & Fernandez-Gimenez,
2009). It can be argued that this knowledge, derived largely from experience, is intuitive,
since many of the decisions made do not undergo formal analysis, but are based on trial
and error (Nuthall & Old, 2018). This intuitive knowledge, therefore, may hold greater
weight with individuals that have inhabited a given area for longer periods of time.
Iniesta-Arandia et al. (2014) found that farmers in a semi-arid region of Spain possessed
the greatest Local Ecological Knowledge if they spent more time living in a particular
area. As discussed in the previous section concerning Sense of Place theory, this
suggests that the longer amount of time a person inhabits a certain area, the greater
knowledge they may have of their local environment (Mullendore et al., 2015).
In a study conducted by Knapp and Fernandez-Gimenez (2009), all 26
participants in a particular watershed in Colorado cited experience as one of the most
important factors when making management decisions. As a group that values tacit
knowledge over more formal, scientific methods, experience is a central role in collecting
and communicating knowledge for the individual farmer. In order to meet their diverse
and usually context-specific needs, farmers and land managers frequently rely on their
own knowledge, considering themselves to be the most prominent and trusted knowledge
source (Sumane et al., 2017). In addition, Sumane et al. (2017) explains that when
compared to more formal scientific and research-based modes of knowledge, farmers are

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more likely to trust a practice-based knowledge. This divide between formal and
informal modes of knowledge and their relationship to farmers and land managers has
been discussed in detail earlier; even so, highlighting the value of experience-based
knowledge within farming communities is essential to understanding how they acquire
and practice the information they collect.
Although this topic will be explored in the context of sharing knowledge
communally, the ways in which farming families collect and transmit knowledge
amongst themselves should not be overlooked. This, in turn, translates as experience,
since many farmers and land managers raised in farming families have early experiences
with agriculture. Sumane et al. (2017) states that farmers that come from farming
families obtain their early agricultural knowledge from parents or grandparents, and in
most cases, are encouraged by family members to explore their own curiosity and
creativity in the field. In addition, this knowledge and experience is passed on from
generation to generation as a successor continues the legacy of the farm (Joosse &
Grubstrom, 2017).
This leads us to the value of practice, and the likelihood that a farmer will
continue their management regime based on past experiences. According to Burton
(2014), farmers that are familiar with a specific management regime, albeit practices that
maximize production or are environmentally oriented, are more likely to continue that
same practice; conversely, the greater the familiarity with a specific farming practice, the
less likely a farmer or land manager is to alter their management regime. As intuitive
thinkers, farmers rely on experience with management practices to make unconscious

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decisions based on current conditions. For many, this combination of intuition and
experience renders them successful (Nuthall & Old, 2018).
A double-edged sword within experience arises at this point; if farmers have
performed a certain practice consistently and their desired outcome has been achieved
consistently, why change? While this ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ model may work in
some instances, it may also prove detrimental to local environments. If farmers are most
familiar with maximized sustained yield and Productivist practices of intensive tillage,
minimal crop rotation, and over-applying synthetic inputs, it may be difficult to
encourage them to change their practices (Burton, 2014).
This is an important point to consider; as previously mentioned, farmers trust
what they know, and what has worked for them and neighbors based on trial and error. If
they have always managed their land with the sole intention of increased crop production,
and they’ve used methods that have yielded consistent results for a number of years, how
do we expect them to change based on the latest science coming from a formal,
laboratory setting? According to Burton (2014) there is a dichotomous effect when
environmental degradation occurs due to harmful environmental practices. Sometimes,
this degradation is normalized for farmers, and many believe it to be a necessary
consequence of modern agriculture. On the other hand, some farmers have adapted to
more environmentally sensitive management practices after witnessing the harmful
effects of Productivist agriculture on their local ecosystem. Again, observation and trial
and error are the primary tools utilized most frequently by farmers. These experiences
are then communicated and transmitted through their networks and communities of
practice, which will be discussed later.

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Stuart et al. (2018) found that when considering the amount of nitrogen fertilizer
to apply to one’s land, personal experience was the most commonly described internal
source of information utilized by farmers. Based on previous farming experience, what
has worked for them and for other trusted sources (neighbors, family members, etc.), and
their own on-farm research trials, farmers tend to rely on this information as a significant
source for their management decisions. The importance of proximity to one’s own
operation, in regards to on-farm trials and experience, were highly influential. According
to one farmer in Iowa: “Well, I’m on the internet looking at sources… Iowa State
[University]’s research, Iowa Soybean Association research. The most important
research is on my farm and you know the farther they get away, its maybe less valuable
to me” (Stuart et al., 2018, p. 292). The concepts of sense of place, as previously
discussed, and particularized trust (which will be discussed in detail later) as well as
personal experience are expressed in this statement.
Experience-based knowledge is an integral part of a farmer or land manager’s
management regime. The longer amount of time a farmer inhabits a particular region, the
greater the chance of them possessing higher LEK of the area (Iniesta-Arandia et al.,
2014). As observers of the Doing, Using and Interacting mode of knowledge, they value
and trust practice-based knowledge over formal, traditional scientific inquiry (Sumane et
al., 2017). Farming families collect this experiential knowledge and pass it on from one
generation to the next (Jossee & Grubstrom, 2017). Through trial, error and observation,
they develop an intuitive sense of what works and what doesn’t for their specific context
(Nuthall & Old, 2018). With respect to environmental degradation, this intuition may
normalize the negative effects of modern agriculture but has also been shown to promote

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change against destructive practices (Burton, 2014). Experience and practice-based
knowledge are integral to the collection and transmission of information amongst farmers
and land managers.

Education
While formal education plays a role in soil health knowledge, the content and
relevance of the education may be more influential than the quantity; in addition, as
previously discussed, contemporary trends in agricultural and soil sciences, as well as
within the culture itself, influence the content taught in schools. In Burton’s (2014)
consideration of the role that education plays in the use of agri-environmental and
conservation schemes for farmers and land managers, he explained that higher levels of
education are typically associated with more environmentally-minded practices; however,
he also discovered other studies where no correlation or even an inverse correlation were
found (Burton, 2014). As the author points out, the type and content of education is
closely linked to practices that improve the impact of agriculture on the environment,
including improved soil health; the author found multiple studies explaining that a
general or broad agricultural degree compared to a specifically conventional agricultural
degree correlate to different management practices.
In a study conducted by Fielke & Bardsley (2014), a survey of farmers and land
managers in the state of South Australia looked to understand the value of education in
agricultural decision-making. The survey respondents were broken up into three groups:
school certificate (equivalent to high school diploma in the US) or lower; TAFE
(vocational education) certification; and university degree. Of the 262 participants, those
with TAFE certification or a university degree were more likely to value the impacts of

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socio-environmental agricultural land use than less-educated individuals. In addition,
respondents with a higher education were less concerned with governmental support
mechanisms in general but believed government support will be necessary to help
farmers adapt to climate change. Farmers with a TAFE certificate or university degree
also anticipated incentives for positive environmental land use decisions. For farmers
with a high school education or less, more anxieties about governmental support were
highlighted, including financial support for the supply and availability of inputs, the
government’s ability to prevent import competition, and to offer direct payments to
farmers (Fielke & Bardsley, 2014).
In terms of education and its impacts on soil health and agri-environmental
management, the quality of the education, whether oriented towards Productivism or
resource conservation, may influence soil health knowledge and sustainable management
adoption rather than the degree of education completed. As previously discussed, there
are considering a characteristic like age outside of a greater web of variables may prevent
research from considering the bigger picture. Within education, the type of education, as
well as age influences social capital and cohort effects, since different time periods
emphasize or have an understanding about different concepts.

Gender
In modern western culture, agriculture is considered a masculine occupation, and
the vast majority of farmers are male (Haugen and Brandth, 1994). Because of this,
cohort effects and social capital accumulation can be observed, where female farmers
have not historically been considered to be a ‘good farmer’ because farming is a maledominated industry (Hatch, 1992). According to the 2012 USDA census, less than 14%

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of all principal operators are female (USDA Census, 2012); however, the true amount of
female contribution cannot be quantified due to varying degrees across countries and
regions (SOFA team and Doss, 2011). According to Sachs et al. (2016) an increase in
female farm operators and principle owners can be observed between 2002 and 2012, and
the primary justification for this would be older female farmers pursuing a second career
or that women began claiming the role of ‘farmer’ as opposed to relegating the title to
spouses, sons, or other male relatives.
In terms of environmental stewardship, many studies have found women to be
more environmentally minded than men (Haugen & Brandth, 1994; Burton, 2014; Sachs
et al., 2016). Women have historically explicated more concern for environmental issues
through an increased awareness of environmental risks, and understandings of
environmental problems than men; even though research consistently shows an increased
awareness of environmental impacts by females, the justification for this is still unknown
(Sachs et al., 2016). While female farmers make up a much smaller proportion of largescale industrial farm owners and operators, these individuals are more prominent in
small-scale and organic operations; in addition, it has been shown that female farmers are
more likely than their male counterparts to produce organically-certified foods (Sachs et
al., 2016). Although little data exists regarding the soil health knowledge of female
farmers as opposed to male farmers, it is of value to consider whether or not gender
influences environmental stewardship and would therefore translate to increased soil
health knowledge.

Farmers’ involvement with internal and external groups

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Farmers depend heavily upon the social and business networks and communities
in which they inhabit. There are a number of different groups that farmers work with,
and much of their learning and information transfer originates within different circles.
This section first defines the different communities, networks and influencers that impact
farmers’ transfer and generation of knowledge. An analysis of these different networks
will follow, including: agricultural communities, marketing orders and cooperatives,
university extension offices, government agencies, and privatized corporations and
consultants. In addition, the role of generalized and particularized trust will also be
discussed when considering individual, institutional and organizational information
resources utilized by farmers.
Oreszczyn et al. (2010) investigated what influenced the creation and transfer of
new technology (particularly genetically modified crops) within farmers groups in the
UK. The authors identified three of these circles: communities of practice, networks of
practice, and webs of influencers. Within communities of practice, individual knowledge
is situated within communities and social interactions; this, in turn, is an essential aspect
of both explicit/formal knowledge as well as implicit/tacit knowledge realms. Networks
of Practice, on the other hand, are more loosely bound than communities of practice,
since a shared identity is not an integral part of these relationships. Rather, they serve to
connect individuals through repeated and enduring exchanges. Webs of influencers are a
much wider network of people and organizations, which impact the actual practices of the
farmers, not just their attitudes and views.
According to Oreszczyn et al. (2010), farmers more closely resemble networks of
practice, since there are many small operations that are widely distributed, promoting a

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diversity of views, needs, interests and priorities. While many farmers share the same
identity with common concerns and similar viewpoints, many suggest that they learn very
little from those within their community. While they rely heavily on each other, and
believe they have strong connections with farmers in their community, many farmers
don’t believe they learn much from their neighbors (Oreszczyn et al., 2010). Within
communities of practice, though, farmers are interested when members of their
community integrate new technologies into their management regime. This could serve
as a uniting front for farmers, although opposing views and attitudes could create greater
rifts within these groups. The authors suggest that webs of influencers, particularly with
trusted individuals from trusted organizations, have the greatest sway over their
motivations to change practices and acquire new knowledge (Oreszczyn et al., 2010).
These secure relationships with trusted influencers encourage learning within networks
and communities of practice. Because these webs of influencers cross boundaries
established within the other two frameworks, more knowledge can be transferred and
disseminated. Further in this section, we will discuss the influencers that impact the
knowledge and decision-making of these farmers, whether they originate from a trusted
source or not.
Even if direct knowledge transfer does not occur frequently within farmers
groups, social standing and relationships within agricultural communities does impact
farmer motivations to some degree. In terms of establishing social standing, farmers are
evaluated by others in their community regarding at least two factors: their perceived
farming ability and, to a lesser extent, their wealth (Hatch, 1992). Many farmers use their
neighbors and communities as a point of reference for themselves and compare their own

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practices to others and the group as a whole Hoffman et al., 2007). In addition, much of
what farmers learn and practice arise from the norms within their community. By
observing each other’s’ fields from the road and through other social interactions, farmers
notice what others in their community are doing, and for the most part, uphold what
others in their community are doing. For those on the social or geographical periphery,
however, establishing social capital may be difficult, although some farmers prefer to
separate themselves from their communities (Hatch, 1992).
Social standing, or social capital, influences the trust upheld by other members of
the community. According to Kizos et al. (2014), social capital involves the specific
characteristics, functions and attributes of social networks, and is expressed by “social
trust, social norms, cultural perceptions and values, and the character of social networks”.
Much of what farmers adopt originates from trusted sources within their communities
that have a reputable social standing, or are considered ‘good farmers’; therefore, it is of
value to better understand the networks and circles in which farmers interact with each
other.
According to Hatch (1992), farmers exist in local, historically variable cultural
systems concerned with social hierarchy, and an individual’s concept of self-worth as a
farmer and member of the community is largely grounded in these groups. Through an
evaluation of a small agricultural community outside of Christchurch, New Zealand, the
author asserts “everyone in the district… was placed by others within this hierarchy.
People in the locality had their reputations at stake, or their local sense of personal worth
and identity, and the dynamics of the community reflected this principle” (Hatch, 1992,
p. 2). Within the town of South Downs, there were multiple divisions of hierarchy, from

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the ‘haves’ (land-owners) and the ‘have-nots’ (non-property owners). As the dominant
economic force, farmers held the highest standing, while some other groups also earned
respect. These include: firms, chemical dealers or agricultural consultants, stock agents
(for sheep/cattle) or farm managers.
Within farmer groups, social standing originates from personal wealth, but most
importantly, farming ability. When compared to another study the author conducted in
California, the reverse was true (Hatch, 1992). While many farmers in the New Zealand
community could identify the wealthy farmers, they were not always considered to have
the highest social standing. The esteemed members of the community were good farmers
that may not have the best land but invest time and energy into their farm. When asked if
farmers in the community rank their neighbors based on their perceived farming ability,
one farmer replied: “Oh yes. We’ve all got a fair idea of how good we all are and how
good our neighbors are. We all farm our neighbor’s farm better than he can. I’ve got a
little spot here where I stand up and look around. I always look around and say, ‘What’s
so and so doing, why’s he doing that?’ And no doubt everyone’s doing the same with my
place” (Hatch, 1992, p. 119).
Farmers observe each other’s land through a number of different means. Many
farmers drive through the country and keep tabs on their neighbor’s land. These ‘drivebys’ allow farmers to observe what their neighbors are doing, and provide gossip to be
shared at the local pub. The straightness of an irrigated farmers’ rows will be a point of
contention within his community, and if a farmer changes his management practices, you
are sure he’ll hear about it at the local coffee shop or café. While very few publications
describe the ways in which farmers observe each other’s land or where they meet on a

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regular basis, this point is of value for further consideration, since information, social
standing, and trust is developed through these avenues.
Certain boundaries exist within agricultural communities, delineating individuals
that are part of the group and isolating outsiders. In Hatch’s study (1992), South Downs
farmers almost unanimously identified two families as outsiders, who were also
considered to have poor farming ability. This is largely because they were isolated from
the group; while these farmers isolated themselves from others, their neighbors still used
them as a point of reference within the community. Although it could be argued that
social separation was the only factor contributing to their isolation, some farmers did
participate regularly in the community and still had a ‘poor farmer’ ranking. Isolation in
conjunction with divergence from the norm was observed as contributing factors to the
lower ranking. In addition, geographical proximity to other farmers also informed
members of the community of who was a good farmer and who wasn’t. Hatch (1992)
asked the participants of his study to rank farmers from other townships; while many
farmers were able to identify the best and worst farmers, their knowledge of outside
communities was much smaller than individuals within their own groups. This suggests
that even if individuals outside of geographical bounds are good farmers, their limited
interactions with others in the agricultural community, and the inability for those within
the community to observe and drive-by that individual’s land regularly, exclude them
from consideration.
While geographic and social proximity influence the social standing of farmers
within agricultural communities, it is of value to understand how farmers with different
management practices form their own farming identities through the influence of other

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trusted farmers; however, in keeping with the literature review up to this point,
delineating farmers into different groups over-simplifies the complex nature of farmer’s
knowledge creation and dissemination, and one must proceed cautiously if labeling
farmers in specific groups. Carolan (2005) investigated the trust upheld by different
farmer groups within social, organizational, and governmental networks (and webs of
influencers).
By observing two separate ‘field days’ in which farmers converge to observe new
practices and technology and to share ideas, the author delineated two types of farming
networks, the Productivists and the Conservationists, and consequently two types of trust.
First, the author observed a field day with Iowa State University, a traditional Land Grant
university with a heavy focus on the scientific expert to non-expert model of knowledge
transfer. Through informal interviews, the author determined that farmers in attendance
at this field day possessed ‘as-if’ or virtual trust; they passively trusted the superiority of
higher science institutions, organizations and corporations, and did not question the
information relayed to them. According to one farmer, “I’d like to think I trust them
[Iowa State University]. I mean, when I think about trust I usually think of it being
between two people. Not between a person and an organization or university. But I can’t
really think of any other word for it, so, sure, I guess you could say I trust Iowa State”
(Carolan, 2005, p. 332). The author argues that this trust is somewhat superficial, since
those that practice conventionally trust that science has been right up to this point but
have not cultivated deep trust with specific individuals; instead they depend on the
experts in the system but have not created real trust with the experts that relay this
information.

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The author argues that Conservationists, on the other hand, develop a deeper trust
with other sustainably-minded farmers and larger organizations; at the Practical Farmers
of Iowa field day, farmers were encouraged to touch and observe the different
management practices, fostering connections with other like-minded individuals through
embedded ecological experience. As one farmer described it, “This is not just about
learning, but about sharing ideas and information. There are no experts here” (Carolan,
2005, p. 332)17. Interestingly, even though Iowa State does focus much of their research
on sustainable practices, many of the Conservationists separated themselves from the
University mindset. The author defines this as identity correspondence, a phenomenon in
which individuals perceive themselves as aligning with one group, thereby separating
themselves from another, even if that other group may have some similar interests or
pursuits.
By segregating these two groups, the author is over-simplifying the complex
nature of farmer interactions, knowledge accumulation and transmission, and he does not
consider other impositions on farmers’ management decisions. As previously discussed,
farmers gain knowledge not only through social networks, but through education,
personal experience, and a wide variety of other avenues; in addition, their management
practice may not always reflect their farming philosophy due to economic or other human
capital constraints18. While it is true that farmers have devalued their confidence in their
own experience, observation, and local knowledge accumulation due to the prevalence of
western scientific epistemologies, the author seems to create a narrative in which farmers

17

The Productivist-Conservationist divide will be discussed in the Farmer identity and farming philosophy
section, p. 153.
18
For more information, see the Risk management and aversion section, p. 172.

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that attend university-led field days are less intelligent than those that attend events put
on by organizations like the Practical Farmers of Iowa. There are a number of factors to
consider with farmers management decisions, and this simple segregation of farmers into
two groups does not sufficiently express the complex nature of farmer knowledge
creation and dissemination. Nevertheless, Carolan (2005) highlights that management
practices facilitate social interactions, knowledge collection and transmission, as well as
the formation of a farming identity.
In addition, it is necessary to understand the impact of social capital and social
groups on local environments. Since ecosystem health and functioning depends heavily
on social capital, the actions and preferences of specific groups has been shown to impact
the well-being of local environments (Kizos et al., 2014). Through an analysis of the
motivations and actions of livestock farmers of the Asteroussia region of Crete, Greece;
Kizos et al. (2014) noted a correlation between land degradation and the disintegration of
social capital.
As a result of increased subsidies for increased flock size during the 1980s, the
authors observed a decrease in bridging social capital, which is associated with the
enhancement of trust and cooperation among different social groups. As flock sizes
increased through ‘informal patron-client networks’, farmers earned income not from the
maintenance of land quality, but by increasing flock size. As social inequalities were
exacerbated, since those with more economic capital and financial capital were more
capable of increasing their flock, both social capital and land quality degraded rapidly
(Kizos et al., 2014). This shows that social groups, as an integral part of social ecological

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systems, have the power to influence the rate of environmental degradation due to the
actions and motivations of group members.
This section has defined the different operative farmer groups, from more intimate
Communities of Practice, which extends out to more formal interaction and exchangebased Networks of Practice, to the even broader network of Webs of Influencers
(Oreszczyn et al., 2010). Social capital plays an important role in the formation and
maintenance of farmer networks, since individuals that share a common identity, utilize
similar management practices, and uphold similar perspectives, are more likely to be a
part of the same community (Hatch, 1992). In addition, Individuals within farming
communities almost unanimously identify good and bad farmers, and many of the
farmers that were considered ‘bad’ were either on the periphery or upheld different
management practices or overall values (Hatch, 1992). While Carolan (2005) identified
different ways that farmers communicated, received and transmitted knowledge, his
segregation of farmers into two groups over-simplifies the complex dynamic of farmers’
knowledge collection and decision-making processes. At this point, it is of value to take
a closer look at the larger network of farmers’ Web of Influencers, in particular the public
and private sector institutions that provide information and impact their management
decisions

The Role of Trust
As previously discussed, farmers interact through various networks, which extend
out from more intimate Communities of Practice, through Networks of Practice and into
Webs of Influencers (Oreszczyn et al., 2010). Trust changes within these groups, since
farmers have a different level of trust for individuals in their immediate community

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compared to those that influence their management decisions. According to Delhey et al.
(2011), trust develops through “socially learned and socially confirmed expectations that
people have of each other, of the organizations and institutions in which they live, and of
the natural, moral, and social orders that set the fundamental understandings of our lives”.
What has been previously discussed is trust in individuals within one’s immediate and
extended agricultural communities, with family members, with one’s own experiences,
etc. Stuart et al. (2018) found similar results to Hatch (1992) when referring to trusted
individuals within the community. Through the collection of 1200 survey respondents
and over 150 interviews with farmers in Iowa, Indiana and Michigan, the authors
investigated what sources of information these Midwestern farmers trusted for Nitrogen
fertilizer recommendations. Participants trusted neighbors and family members that they
considered to be ‘good farmers’; they evaluated the management practices of these
farmers either through in-person communication or observations of their fields (drivebys) (Stuart et al., 2018).
This particularized trust expands beyond one’s social and cultural groups to other
individuals associated within both the private and public sectors. Stuart et al. (2018)
found that while more farmers valued nitrogen fertilizer recommendations from the
private sector (fertilizer and seed suppliers, crop consulting firms, etc.) more-so than
recommendations coming from the public sector (governmental agencies, university
extension, etc.), they expressed trust with individuals within both the private and public
sector, not just one or the other. In addition, the authors found that generalized trust, or
trust in the greater organization, institution or company, was not as strong as trust with
particular individuals that they worked with closely.

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While some farmers were skeptical of the biased research coming out of the
private sector (in order to support the purchase of more products, etc.), many explained
that their own crop advisors or agronomists were trusted sources that had the farmers’
best interests at heart. According to one farmer from Indiana when referring to his own
agronomist, a fertilizer consultant from a private company: “He knows our acres, he’s
been involved, he’s walked the fields, he knows what kind of weed pressure we’ve got
and all this, so he has a kind of history of our farm, he can go back and look at our soil
samples from the last 30 years and make recommendations… so we kind of look at him
as our go-to guy” (Stuart et al., 2018, p. 293).
The issue of trust plays an important role in the adoption of conservation
agriculture practices. Luloff et al. (2012) interviewed 192 key informants in 13 different
watersheds across the United States to understand their ‘beliefs, attitudes, perceptions and
experiences’ with conservation agricultural practices and water quality. Two important
questions addressed by the authors concerned what determined the effectiveness of
conservation agricultural practices and what educational resources were available to
farmers and land managers. It may be of value to consider what resources are available
to farmers, what avenues they choose to implement these practices, and what influences
their choices.
Similarly to Stuart et al. (2018), Luloff et al. (2012) found that variation existed
among types of educational resources available to farmers, and which resources farmers
chose. What also must be noted are the different perceptions held by both farmers and
agents of available and trusted sources of conservation agriculture information. Farmers
and land managers for the most part believed personal efforts and experiences in

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conjunction with farmer-to-farmer interactions either through formal or informal groups
were the driving force behind their adoption of such practices. Another contributing
factor to the increased implementation of new practices involves the trusted companies
that create new technology to facilitate this change (Luloff et al., 2012). With respect to
the adoption of conservation tillage, almost all farmers interviewed in Ohio implemented
this practice when John Deere, a trusted source of agricultural machinery, created a notill planter. No governmental programs or ‘zeal’ influenced the adoption of conservation
tillage, but when a trusted private sector company created a machine that was efficient
and effective, it was much easier for farmers and land managers to convert to
conservation tillage (Luloff et al., 2012). It would be interesting to note whether or not
these farmers had a trusted source at John Deere that persuaded them to try something
different, as Stuart et al. (2018) found with generalized and particular trust.
Some farmers explained that they used USDA NRCS, Conservation Districts and
university extension services to acquire new information on conservation agriculture
practices; however, many farmers considered extension and NRCS to be unreliable
sources (Luloff et al., 2012). This was largely due to conflicting regulations, inconsistent
agendas, insufficient technical assistance and funding. While farmers may have trust in a
single individual within a governmental organization, the lack of consistency with
regulation, policy and personnel limits the amount of trust within the government sector
itself (Oreszczyn et al., 2010). Even so, another study conducted in Australia, found that
over half of the farmers interviewed utilized district agronomists; while the relay of
information in the public sector in Australia may be different than what is practiced in the

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United States, this shows that some farmers do find these resources useful (Lobry de
Bruyn & Abbey, 2002).
On the other hand, Luloff et al. (2012) found that many key informant extension
and government agents claimed their resources were frequently used, but some
recognized their shortcomings. According to one federal agent, “There’s a problem
working with NRCS because of their restrictive rules about data. This hinders
discussions with peers. [You] can’t create good working relations with the rules. Further
NRCS employees need more training to simplify the legal entities for farmer payment.
NRCS should change the structure of its organization because the expertise of its
employees is not being used” (Luloff et al., 2012, p. 25).
Like Stuart et al. (2018), Luloff et al. (2012) found that there were some farmers
that spoke of specific individuals within the government programs or agencies that
offered assistance. One Ohio farmer stated that his early adoption of conservation
practices came from his father, his personal interest in science and the environment, and
from his work with one Conservation District specialist (Luloff et al., 2012). This is
where the strength of particularized trust resurfaces; farmers have less trust in an
overarching entity, like all federal government programs, but when working with a
trusted source within the community, they are more likely to learn from the individual.
Due to these discrepancies, the authors suggest that extension and government agencies
should look beyond their own programs to see whom farmers are working with.

Government Regulation and Policy Enactment
The Natural Resource Conservation Service (NRCS) is a government-sponsored
agency ran by the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA). Originally formed

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in 1935 as the Soil Conservation Service, NRCS “helps people help the land” by
providing information and assistance that helps farmers prevent the contamination of the
local environment through degrading practices and conserve water and soil resources
(NRCS). Through the NRCS, there are a number of programs that incentivize
conservation practices. Since the 1930s, the USDA has focused on two separate forms of
conservation programs, with the primary means of implementing these programs through
financial ‘incentivization’ (Reimer, 2015).
The land retirement and easement programs that the NRCS offers include the
longest-running Conservation Reserve Program (CRP), which provides funding to
farmers who remove marginal land from production and show through a 10-year
conservation plan how they will plant perennial coverage instead of agricultural crops;
this type of conservation program is utilized largely by smaller farms that have a gross
annual income less than $100,000 (Reimer, 2015). On the other hand, working lands
programs include the Environmental Quality Incentives Program (EQIP) and the
Conservation Stewardship Program (CSP). EQIP provides cost-share in addition to
technical assistance that helps facilitate conservation practices on working land while the
CSP provides payments to farmers for continuing conservation programs over an
extended period of time. These programs are used largely by large-scale operations with
the goal of maximizing agricultural land productivity while simultaneously improving the
local environment (Claassen, 2006).
Reimer (2015) noted a shift in the 2014 farm bill from land retirement and
easement towards improving productive working lands. The author suggests this shift
may be in line with Ecological Modernization, which emphasizes technological and

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regulatory innovations that happen in conjunction with a shift in producer and consumer
attitudes towards environmental conservation. Ecological Modernization through
regulatory action involves the decentralization and deregulation of government actors, a
greater focus towards markets, and fostering relationships between the state and local
stakeholders (Reimer, 2015). The shifting emphasis towards working lands conservation
programs aligns with farm sector preferences, since most large-scale farmers supply over
80% of agricultural products produced in the US. Simultaneously, it reinforces the
Ecological Modernization theory that individual economic producers play a pivotal role
in the drive to ecological reform (Reimer, 2015). While analyzing the implementation of
conservation programs within governmental bodies can be effective, the fact that most
programs are voluntary means that they may not be the ideal means of implementing
conservation practices for farmers and land managers.
As previously discussed, farmers bear the burden of a number of interests; they
are expected to keep prices low while increasing productivity, in addition to maintaining
environmental quality and aesthetic (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006). At an increasing
rate, policy and governmental regulation continually impacts farmers, and many would
argue that these regulations are imposed with little input from farmer groups. According
to Oreszczyn et al. (2010), governmental regulation is viewed as a negative strong
influencer on decision-making. As the article suggests, there are “increasing unrealistic
expectations made of [farmers]. Increasing regulation meant increasing costs, and
farmers were finding it progressively more difficult to satisfy regulators” (Oreszczyn et
al., 2010, p. 412). Due to the lack of operational knowledge of farm life from
policymakers and governmental regulators, they are considered to be a poor source of

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information, sending farmers and land managers to public and private sector agricultural
organizations as well as research institutions.
Through a survey of 225 farmers in the tropical Savannah of Australia, Greiner &
Gregg (2011) considered the motivations and incentives of farmers in this area19; they
considered how effectively government regulation and policy enactment influenced
farmer conservation decisions. Interestingly, government regulation was rated as the
least effective incentive; however, interview data revealed that even though it was the
least effective incentive, regulation is a necessary element of policy strategy since it
establishes minimum standards that must be upheld. Additionally, it instills in farmers the
responsibility of environmental care. The authors also found that highly motivated
respondents believed that there was value to implementing conservation-minded policy.
Another interesting point to be made is that differences in the motivations and
effectiveness of policy reflected the presence or lack of specific conservation practices in
a given area. This suggests that governmental regulation and policy makers do play a
significant role in the conservation actions of farmers (Greiner & Gregg, 2011).
An example of the hindrances of legislation are explained in a survey of 435
Dutch farmers. Hijbeek et al. (2018) found that farmers perceived certain legislation as an
impediment to their ability to increase organic matter content in the soil. The Dutch
Manure and Fertilizer Act of 2016 took measures to minimize the amount of manure
applied to the soil by farmers in order to limit the amount of nitrogen and phosphorus
leaching into waterways (Bleeker and van Grinsven, 2017). While nitrate and phosphate
leaching decreased, farmers looking to increase their organic matter content believed the

19

Farmer motivations and incentives follows in the “Voluntary Environmental Incentives” section

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new legislation was one of the largest hindrances to improving overall organic matter
content in their soils (Hijbeek et al., 2018). While the Dutch Manure and Fertilizer Act
accomplished its goal, it created additional obstacles for farmers in respect to adding
organic matter and improving their soil health. This provides evidence that legislation
should be enacted that considers its effects on all stakeholders.

Market Demands
Market and consumer demands play a major role in farmers’ management
decision-making. The following section begins with an exploration of the transition of
many small-scale farms with a market emphasis on ‘costless coordination of production
and distribution’ (Zylbersztain, 2017) to the rapid decrease in the number of farms and
exponential increase in farm size with an emphasis on globalized trade and consumerdriven markets. This transition into a neoliberal market, while initially appealing to
farmers, has infiltrated many of the cooperative organizations that prevent social and
subsequently environmental degradation (Dmitri et al., 2005; Kizos et al., 2014). Many
farmers are left to fend for themselves in a free-market economy, while truly autonomous
cooperative groups have been suggested as a means to ensure farmer support in unstable
markets (Stock et al., 2014). In the neoliberal agricultural model, larger farms are able to
withstand market fluctuations, while smaller farmers have little support or capital to
‘weather the storm’; a result is a reduction in the number of small farms and an increase
in the size of larger farms (Reynolds, 2015). Federally-mandated marketing orders are
popular amongst many specialty crop farmers, and many of these individuals believe
their participation in these organizations offer support in regulation compliance and also
offer protection for market fluctuations (USDA 2017; Williams et al., 2008). In addition,

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consumer preferences towards environmental sustainability and certification will also be
considered in this section.

From small-scale diversification to globalized agribusinesses
As discussed throughout this section, agriculture in the United States has
experienced a massive change over the past 100 years; while the size, scale, cropdiversity and amount of food produced has changed drastically, the relative amount of
land being farmed has stayed the same (Dmitri et al., 2005). During the turn of the 20th
century, nearly half of the population was employed on-farm with over 22 million work
animals and producing an average of 5 different commodities per farm; today, less than ¼
of the population inhabits rural areas, less than 2% of the population farms, 5 million
tractors have replaced work animals, and the average farm grows only one commodity
crop (Dmitri et al., 2005). The authors argue that technological development, the
growing influence of consumer choices on agricultural markets, and a shifting focus
towards national and global markets has completely altered the face of the agricultural
economy in the United States, which has in turn changed global markets as well.
With increased mechanization and the use of off-farm chemical inputs, shifting
“’economies of scale’ instigated a rapid growth of on-farm productivity by 1.9% annually
from 1949-1999; this was largely due to ‘increasingly integrated national markets for
labor, capital, goods and services” (Dmitri et al,. 2005). Simultaneously, as more
individuals moved away from the farm and sought off-farm employment, their affluence
increased, and their time availability diminished. This signaled an increase in consumer
influence on the agricultural sector, and as land use efficiency increased due to
technological development, consumers expected food prices to stay low. A shift has

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occurred more recently, where these affluent consumers are becoming aware of the
environmental and social impacts of increased on-farm production, yet again signaling a
new focus towards environmental sustainability and natural resource conservation
(Dmitri et al., 2005).
In the 1960s, the authors describe an intensification of agricultural exports, with a
steep rise occurring in the 1970s due to exchange rate adjustments and the increased
demand of grains and oilseed from the Soviet Union. Increased globalization at this time
marked the rise of imports and exports, but as more developed and developing countries
adopted the new technologies of the United States agricultural sector, global competition
expanded, as well. This further intensified the neo-liberal model experienced in the
United States, shrinking farm numbers and increasing farm size (Dmitri et al., 2005).
Policy change arose with these shifting market trends; in the 1950s, farm policy
maintained high price supports and supply controls by the government, with the
mandatory forfeit of surplus goods to governmental storage facilities. This shifted with
the Food and Agriculture Act of 1965, with a new reliance on ‘income support payments
to protect farm income’, recognizing a change of emphasis allowing farmers to adapt to
fluctuating markets (Dmitri et al., 2005). With the 1985 Food Security Act and the 1990
Food, Agriculture, Conservation and Trade Act, further incentives were created to
encourage the marketing of commodities, allowing farmers to plant what they wanted.
These neo-liberal policies decrease regulation, increase privatization, and allow
for open markets and free trade, created new ways for financial capital and transnational
corporations to invest in international enterprises (Rosset & Martinez-Torres, 2012). The
networks in which small-scale farmers existed originally struggled to compete in this

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rapidly changing economy; this led to the further decrease in farm numbers and increase
in farm size, since many small-scale farmers did not have access to a transnational
economy. These globalized neo-liberal markets were in direct conflict with local, smallscale farming efforts, since the emphasis of small-scale farms on ‘short and decentralized
circuits of production and consumption with strong links between food production and
local and regional ecosystems and societies’ were in direct conflict with the popularized
globalized agribusiness trend of the second half of the 20th century (Rosset & MartinezTorres, 2012).
Stock et al. (2014) would argue that the production focus of farming today
originates from the infiltration of neoliberal autonomy into agricultural and rural
societies. As an inherently autonomous group, farmers are drawn to neoliberalism
because of its emphasis on the individual, the power of free trade, and its encouragement
of competition. As one farmer within this particular study described his peers: “They’re
a very independent breed… And by default, if they start working together, you know, I
think that is the biggest obstacle. It’s a state of mind, it comes down to personalities…
the whole idea of being a small farmer is you are independent” (Stock et al., 2014, p.
415). This clearly represents a neoliberal autonomic perspective; however, the authors
also point out that farmers in the English uplands believed the best means to protect the
environment was to ensure that farmers could earn a decent wage, and that farmers had to
work with other farmers to maintain the quality of their landscape.
To this end, the authors argue in favor of actual autonomy. In support of
collective organizations like cooperatives and marketing orders, farmers can work
together to resist the ‘sweeping mandates’ of neoliberalism to maintain social and

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environmental quality (Stock et al., 2014). As defined by the authors, territorial
cooperatives support three methods of liberation: 1) regional cooperation which
integrates farming practices towards environmental protection, 2) rural governance, and
3) a move away from expert systems towards the innovative abilities of members within
the cooperative. These lofty goals were investigated through different cooperatives in 4
countries: England, Switzerland, New Zealand and Brazil. The authors found that most
of these cooperatives offered paradoxical objectives: neoliberal autonomy and collective
emancipation.
Interestingly, all four countries’ governing bodies have instated neoliberal
legislation that removes market support and governmental subsidies while simultaneously
increasing competition amongst small farmers (Stock et al., 2014). In response, and in
particular within the dairy industry, most developed countries utilize cooperatives to
provide support in autonomous neoliberal markets; however, in some instances, these
groups have neoliberal underpinnings. In New Zealand, for example, two of the largest
cooperatives merged in 2001 to form one single ‘cooperative’: Fonterra. With over
11,000 farmers and an emphasis on exporting goods, this model has been called
‘cooperative monopolization’. While some efforts were made by Fonterra to improve
environmental degradation by dairies (water quality in particular), their Clean Streams
Accord was more a political move than one ensuring social and environmental protection
(Stock et al., 2014).
The most successful grassroots example came out of Brazil. With massive
neoliberal restructuring, the country began to focus on producing high profit commodities
like cotton, soybeans and sugarcane; however, a group called the Landless Rural Workers

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Movement (MST) is working to resettle over 400,000 families on small-scale farms while
simultaneously attempting to mitigate the effects of Productivist agriculture on the
environment. This paper suggests that in order to confront the restrictions of a neoliberal
agricultural economy, farmers should work cooperatively to ensure actual autonomy.
While not an entirely autonomous group, marketing orders may serve as a means
to support farmer interests in the free market. According to the USDA, marketing orders
connect producers within fruit, vegetable and specialty crops so they may “leverage their
own funds to design and execute programs that they would not be able to do as
individuals” (USDA AMS, 2017). By unifying producers of the same product, marketing
orders are able to address the needs of specific industries by: 1) helping farmers navigate
and create markets, 2) driving consumer demand, and 3) improving producers’
profitability (USDA AMS, 2017). Powers (1990) states that federal marketing orders use
collective action of a group of growers to contribute costs and efforts to benefit the
growers, marketers and consumers when faced with market failures or ‘economies of
scale that individual growers cannot recognize’.
Through statistical analyses of price level and variability, Jesse and Johnson
(1981), found that fruits and vegetables covered by Federal marketing orders have not
yielded higher or more stable farm prices. Even so, the authors found that producers are
still in favor of these orders, since many believe that without them, the markets would be
highly volatile and farm prices would be lower. However, Williams et al. (2008) found
that sufficiently differentiated crops, like the Texas grapefruit, may benefit from
promotion programs instituted by Marketing Orders. This finding suggests that growers
of specialty crops like hops and mint in the Yakima Valley that are also members of

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Federal marketing orders may benefit from promotion programs if the “group chooses to
allocate its promotion funds among alternative promotion activities” (Williams et al.,
2008, p.391). Although some farmers do believe they benefit through their participation
in marketing orders, I suggest that many farmers are left to ‘fend for themselves’ in the
free market and face pressures from market and consumer demands largely by
themselves.
As previously discussed, there are few support mechanisms or cooperative groups
in place to help farmers in a neoliberal economy. Even some cooperatives have adopted
a neoliberal agenda that offers little support to farmers (Stock et al., 2014). While some
farmers believe marketing orders are an effective means to combat unstable markets,
some studies have found little financial benefit for farmers except for those growing
specialized cash crops (Jesse & Johnson, 1981; Williams et al., 2008). With few support
mechanisms in place, many farmers may feel more prone to financial risk; while this will
be discussed later in this review, farmers are less likely to implement or adopt a new
management regime like conservation agriculture if they are not financially stable
(Boehm & Burton, 1997).

Certifications and Consumer Preference for Sustainability
Market demands are largely dictated by consumer choices; in regard to the advent
of the sustainable agricultural revolution of the 21st century, consumer preference for
sustainably sourced local goods, in addition to the re-orientation of the system to a farmto-market organization has contributed to this change (Bianco, 2016). As the public
becomes increasingly concerned with their environmental impact, environmental policy
is shifting towards pollution-control and orienting towards market-driven tools that

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encourage sustainable consumption (Liu et al., 2017). Organic certification has become
one of the most economically viable certifications globally and consumer demand
continues to increase exponentially (Pimentel et al., 2005). In terms of sustainable
certification and labeling, much research has focused on organic products. Not only is it
of value to consider consumer preferences towards sustainable certification, but to
understand to what degree these preferences influence farmers’ motivations to pursue
organic or sustainable certification. The sustainable certifications considered here
(certified Organic, Global GAP, and Salmon Safe) are voluntarily participatory, so it is of
value to understand their motivations for certification.
According to the National Organic Program (NOP), “Organic is a labeling term
that indicates that the food or other agricultural product has been produced and processed
using approved methods. These methods integrate cultural, biological, and mechanical
practices that foster cycling of resources, promote ecological balance and conserve
biodiversity. Synthetic fertilizers, sewage sludge, irradiation and genetic engineering
may not be used” (§CFR 205.105, 2018). As a marketing initiative, organic certification
and material registration is entirely voluntary; producers, processors, handlers, and
material manufacturers may choose to follow the organic rules and regulations to receive
premium prices for certified or registered organic products. According to USDA
National Agricultural Statistics Service (NASS, 2012), U.S. farms and ranches in 2016
sold $7.6 billion dollars of certified organic products, representing an increase in sales by
23% from the previous year. It is clear that consumers’ preference for organic products is
increasing at a fairly rapid rate; however, it is unclear what contributes to these shifts in
agricultural economic trends.

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In a survey of 200 organic consumers in the Campania region of Southern Italy,
Annunziata & Vecchio (2016) attempted to understand consumers’ motivations for
purchasing sustainable and organic products. The authors attempted to quantify four
main areas: general food and purchasing trends, their knowledge and attitude towards
organic products, and their level of confidence in the region. Their preferences for
choosing organic products were largely concerned with personal and familial health, with
46% of the respondents mostly concerned with whether or not the food was healthy for
them and their families. Other important factors included: respect for human rights
(43%), no exploitation of women and children (41%), produced in an uncontaminated
environment (35%), obtained in an environmentally friendly way (26%) and locally
produced to support local farmers and subsequently the local economy (23%). The least
important factors included: low carbon emissions, animal welfare and environmentally
friendly packaging (Annunziata and Vecchio, 2016). This shows that consumers
purchased organic products because they were concerned with personal and familial
welfare and were willing to pay for locally produced organic products.
Aside from organic labeling, Global GAP (Good Agricultural Practices) offers an
Integrated Farm Assurance Standard, for agriculture, livestock and aquaculture in
addition to offering quality assurance along other points of the food supply chain. With
the goal of safe and sustainable agricultural production, the Global GAP certification
addresses: “food safety and traceability; environmental sustainability; workers’ health,
safety and welfare; animal welfare; includes Integrated Crop Management (ICM),
Integrated Pest Control (IPC), Quality Management Systems (QMS), and Hazard
Analysis and Critical Control Points (HACCP)” (Global GAP, 2017). Consumers favor

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Global GAP certification for food safety reasons, and Lind & Peterson (2011) found that
it was beneficial for farmers in Kenya because it encouraged safety for workers and
increased farming efficiency and environmental practices.
Another commonly selected sustainability certification on the West Coast is
Salmon Safe. With a focus on water quality management through land stewardship,
salmon safe certification standards include: water use optimization, creating and
maintaining healthy riparian habitats, using soil conservation techniques, using best
management practices for fertilizers and pesticides, while enhancing on-farm productivity
and environmental quality (Salmon Safe, 2018). There are seven categories that
producers who achieve Salmon Safe certification must follow: “In-stream Habitat
Protection and Restoration, Riparian and Wetland Vegetation Protection and Restoration,
Water Use Management, Erosion Prevention and Sediment Control, Integrated Pest
Management and Water Quality Protection, Animal Management, and Landscape-level
Biodiversity” (Salmon Safe, 2018).
It is of value to consider whether or not consumers have a preference for other
eco-labels outside other than organic and where those motivations originate. Liu et al.
(2017) surveyed 435 participants in four Chinese cities (Zhejiang, Shanghai, Jiangsu and
Guangdong) concerning their preference for eco-labels, price, and geographical origin of
rice. The majority of participants (52.3%) expressed a preference for eco-labels and was
willing to pay a higher premium for these products. Their eco-label preference reflected
interests in personal health and safety as well as improved environmental quality (Liu et
al., 2017). This study shows that most individuals prefer to purchase eco-labeled
products for health and environmental concerns; however, individuals that are price-

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sensitive and prefer locally sourced products are willing to pay higher premiums for ecolabeled products, as well.
Another study aimed to understand how consumers defined ‘sustainably sourced’,
how important it is to them, and how the market can adapt to these preferences (Sackett
et al., 2011). In a survey of 1002 participants, the authors used a Best-Worst analysis
(which asks participants to identify the most and least significant drivers for their
decision-making) to address environmental, price and sustainability concerns for apples
and meat. For apples, the most important factors included: small farm size with minimal
corporate involvement, pollinator management, and production, distribution and sale
done locally; interestingly, farm size was 5 times more important than food price. For
beef, small farm size with minimal corporate involvement was also most important with
production, distribution and sale done locally was the second-most important factor;
animal health and safety had the lowest score, and affordable food prices were also low
(Sackett et al., 2011). This article shows that sustainably sourced food is closely
connected with the size and proximity of the producers and processors in the eyes of the
consumer.
This section highlights the importance of consumer choices and describes in brief
detail three of the most commonly used certifications by producers in Washington State.
Through the analysis of three different studies, it was shown that consumers’ preference
for organic and eco-labeled products originate from their preference for personal health
and safety, as well as environmental protection. Local sourcing is also a major
contributor to their purchasing of eco-labels, and many consumers are more than willing
to pay a higher premium for products originating from small, locally sourced producers.

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Consumer preferences plays a significant role in farmers’ management decisions over the
past century, since more people have moved off the farm and have gained more wealth
and subsequent purchasing power (Dmitri et al., 2005). At this point, it is necessary to
understand producer preferences and incentives for implementing sustainable practices
and choosing to market their goods with eco-labels. Since most eco-labels are entirely
voluntary, are their preferences for higher premiums, or do their motivations originate
from other factors?

Farmer Identity and Farming Philosophy
In this section, I will explore how farmers’ practices inform their farming
philosophy and subsequently farming identity. Many of the studies proposed in this
section, including those previously cited, prefer to segregate farmers into two different
camps: the conventional Productivist farmers that support intensive mono-crop
agriculture and heavily rely on off-farm chemical inputs for soil fertilization, and the
sustainably-minded farmers that incorporate crop rotation, minimum tillage, and use
naturally-derived inputs to improve their soil health (Carolan, 2005; Michel-Guillou &
Moser, 2006). In addition, some authors argue that farmers who choose to incorporate
voluntary programs into their management regime based on intrinsic factors are more
‘durable’ as opposed to extrinsic factors (Mills et al., 2018). Nevertheless, authors like
Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey (2002) find validity in identifying how farmers value soil
health, regardless of their segregation into the Conservationist or Productivist camps.
According to Burton (2014), there are a number of factors that influence farmers’
management decisions; they work with complex biological systems on a daily basis and
must earn a living and support their families by managing dynamic and unpredictable

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ecological systems (van den Berg et al., 2018). In a study conducted in the Zona de Mata
region in Brazil, van den Berg et al. (2018) sought to study farmers’ perceptions of
Ecosystem Services by contrasting individuals with different farm types (agro-ecological
family farmers, conventional family farmers and large-scale farmers). Using a fuzzy
cognitive map (FCM), ‘a semi-quantitative modeling tool’ that compares knowledge
upheld by ‘non-technical’ experts, the authors used interviews to create these maps,
which accumulate key factors that drive their management system and drawing arrows
indicating causal relationships (van den Berg et al., 2018).
While the ‘agro-ecological’ (conservation-oriented) family farmers had the most
complex perception of Ecosystem Services, the most significant differences were
between the family farmers and the large-scale farmers. The author explains that the
“peasant way of farming is characterized by a co-production with nature…” (van den
Berg et al., 2018). In addition, since conventional family farmers work with pesticides
themselves, they are aware of the stronger negative impacts of pesticide use; however,
since they see no other alternative to pesticide use and have outside pressures (like
landlords that force them to apply pesticides), they do not change their management
practices. The most significant finding, though, was that for all three groups of farmers,
their management of Ecosystem Services was highly complex and interconnected (van
den Berg et al., 2018).
The following section explores what incentives encourage voluntary participation
in sustainable agricultural management movements, further exploring how intrinsic and
extrinsic motivators influence management decisions. The role that profit maximization
and market fluctuations play on farmers’ use of sustainable management practices will be

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discussed. The concept of intrinsic and extrinsic motivators will be considered with
regards to the implementation of management practices. In addition, farmer identity will
be explored in great detail, and how one’s identity informs their farming philosophy.

Voluntary incentives for farmers and sustainable management
As previously described, consumers have called for a shift in preference; more
and more people are purchasing products from small, local, and environmentally
conscious producers. While there are some governmental incentive programs (NRCS’
CRP and EQIP, to name a few) supporting agricultural conservation, most if not all of
these programs are voluntary. Choosing an eco-label like Organic, Global GAP or
Salmon Safe is also a voluntary measure and farmers and land managers choose to
comply with these regulations. What, therefore motivates farmers’ decisions to
implement sustainable practices?
Mills et al. (2018) has laid out a series of extrinsic and intrinsic factors that
influence farmers’ adoption of environmentally sustainable practices. Extrinsic
motivations are extenuating circumstances or influencers, which include: financial
incentives and the desire to maximize profit, security, developing and investing in capital,
social standing within a community and regulation. According to the authors, these
factors, which depend on the actions and motivations outside of the individual, are less
durable as intrinsic factors, which include: responsibilities as a land steward, commitment
to local environments, and feeling a sense of personal accomplishment and enjoyment
from their work (Mills et al., 2018). In terms of durability, the authors explain that such
intrinsic factors influence the durability of management practices. For example, if a
farmer’s primary motivation for sustainable management concerned profit maximization

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and this was not realized, they would be more likely to forego this practice than someone
who was motivated by their own responsibility as a land steward.
Through a survey of 1345 farmers and 60 semi-structured interviews, Mills et al.
(2018) sought to identify motivations for farmers to implement unsubsidized
environmental management practices, including: leaving marginal areas and corners
uncultivated, providing bird and pollinator habitats, implementing buffer strips,
maintaining residue cover over winter, leaving land uncultivated, maintaining hedges,
and restoring and maintaining ditches. The authors then broke down extrinsic and
intrinsic motivators into five groups: financial (maintaining capital and farm appearance,
contributions to farm business, and other financial incentives), environmental (protecting
environment for future generations, long-term business sustainability, interest in
sustainable farming practices); agronomic (maintaining ground conditions, improving
farm rotation/system, control pests naturally), factors outside of their control (regulation,
landlord/owner wants it, has always been a part of farm) and other points (Mills et al.,
2018).
These authors found that extrinsic and intrinsic motivators frequently overlap, and
a complex matrix of motivators influences farmers’ decision-making. The most
influential extrinsic motivations were financial, especially for wild bird and pollinator
habitats for game shooting, as well as establishing and maintaining hedges and ditches to
increase their farm’s ‘curb appeal’. Agronomic motivations favored the establishment of
overwinter crop residue, aligning with crop rotations. The most influential intrinsic
motivator was environmental maintenance, and leaving corners uncultivated, establishing
buffer strips, and creating bird and pollinator habitats were motivated by intrinsic

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environmental factors. Alternatively, the authors found that both subsidized and unsubsidized activities frequently take place simultaneously, suggesting that the case is
frequently more complex than singular intrinsic and extrinsic motivators alone (Mills et
al., 2018).
In a study of 12 farmers in England, Darragh & Emery (2018) investigated
whether intrinsic or extrinsic motivators as separate entities motivated participation in
England’s Entry Level Stewards (ELS) Agri-Environment Scheme (AES). The
termination of the program prompted the authors to examine whether or not the end of
payments would ‘crowd out’ the financial motivations for conservation practices, and
would encourage farmers to re-institute more environmentally destructive regimes.
The authors found that all 12 participants were financially motivated to participate
in the ELS program, and all but one farmer admitted that the adoption of the new
program had little impact on their current management regime (Darragh & Emery, 2018).
Notably, the farmers indicated that the financial incentives did not cover the cost of
implementation, and many stressed that payments alone were not sufficient motivators
for participating in the schemes. As described by one farmer: “I think they [farmers] do
it because they really want to do it, they really want to produce the effects of this, its not
about the scheme or the money, they want to do it… they’d still do it anyway” (Darragh
& Emery, 2018, p.15). In addition, all farmers intended to continue with some form of
subsidized environmental management practice after the conclusion of the ELS program;
this may imply a ‘crowding in’ effect in which newly acquired behaviors act as intrinsic
motivators even after the termination of the plan.

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The authors concluded that both crowding-in and crowding-out theories provided
only superficial evidence for the motivations of farmers to implement or discontinue
environmental management practices. It is of importance to note that farmers consider
themselves environmental stewards, and they have never had the intention of being
‘environmental villains’; all farmers indicated a genuine concern for the environment in
which the inhabit (Darragh & Emery 2018). The authors argue that it is over-simplistic
to assume that farmers are motivated by a singular intrinsic or extrinsic factor; as
indicated by their responses, all farmers interviewed initially participated due to financial
incentives (which would be considered an extrinsic motivator); however, because most of
the practices changed relatively little within their management regime (extrinsic
motivator), and they considered themselves to be environmental stewards (intrinsic
motivator) many of them will continue to practice these conservation management
techniques. It must be noted that whether or not farmers continued to practice the ELS
management regimes or not was solely dependent on the preferences of the individual
and the ‘complex intrinsic, normative and instrumental factors’ that influence their
management decision (Darragh & Emery 2018).
As indicated through this section, financial and profit-maximizing motivations are
unquestionably influential in farmers’ decision-making. Boehm and Burton (1997)
explain that profitability is one of the most important factors influencing farmers’
motivations to adopt soil conservation practices; in most cases, there must be a financial
benefit for farmers to incorporate sustainable agricultural practices into their farm system.
As previously discussed, the consumer-driven interest in sustainably sourced goods has
had a major impact on increasing environmentally sustainable practices. These authors

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considered the socio-economic influencers on implementing soil conservation practices
in Canada. They discovered that the increased adoption of minimum till and no-till
continuous cropping systems were chosen based on economic factors as well as risk
reduction and ease of implementation (Boehm & Burton, 1997). By minimizing costs on
machinery and labor, farmers in this study viewed less of a risk involved and were more
willing to implement conservation tillage. This resulted in greater crop diversity as well
as soil conservation (Boehm & Burton, 1997).
Farmers at times may be forced to make management decisions that cause
environmental degradation, like soil loss, if they can make a profit in the short-term.
They may be aware of the negative consequences of their actions, and the action may not
be desirable, but as previously discussed, profit is one of the driving factors of most
management decisions (Mullendore et al., 2015). With a specific focus on the adoption
of crop diversification, Bowman and Zilberman (2013) considered which economic
factors influenced farmers’ motivators for management decisions: technological
capabilities; biological and geographical constraints; labor, input costs and market
fluctuations; financial and credit-based capacities; social norms; policy and regulation; or
the farmers’ own knowledge and skills.
The authors cite a number of factors that would encourage farmers to adopt a
sustainable management regime like diversified cropping. These included risk
mitigation20, geophysical limitations like limited water and nutrient supplies, mitigating
pest pressures, conserving soil health, qualifying for ecosystem services or other aid, or
improving overall well-being, among others (Bowman & Zilberman, 2013). Regardless,

20

Which will be covered in the Risk Aversion section

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there are a number of factors that may not present sustainable practices as economically
viable. Technological advances in plant genetics and synthetic fertilizers, herbicides and
pesticides make growing continuous mono-crop systems easier, and government
incentives for commodity crops also strongly discourage a transition towards
sustainability. In addition, diversified cropping systems can be more labor intensive, and
as agriculture shifts towards mechanization, this can be unattractive to farmers (Bowman
& Zilberman, 2013). It is clear that financial and profit motivators significantly influence
farmers’ decision-making and can constrain farmers from implementing conservation
practices.
The previous section highlights the complex nature of motivators for the
implementation or continuation of conservation practices. While Mills et al. (2018)
attempts to simplify farmers’ motivations into separate intrinsic or extrinsic groups,
Darragh & Emery (2018) suggest that farmers’ objectives for environmentally conscious
management regimes represent a complex network of social, cultural, personal, and
financial motivators. It is true that most farmers are financially motivated to implement
specific management practices, but there are many other influencers to consider, like
geophysical constraints, ease of implementation, learning curves, and social norms
(Boehm & Burton, 1997; Bowman & Zilberman, 2013). At this point, it is useful to
consider what formulates a farmers’ identity, and how this informs their farming
philosophy.

The formation and expression of farmer identities
In this section, I will consider how the literature recognizes land stewardship as a
central tenet to farmers’ identities and how it can serve as an indicator for the adoption of

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conservation practices. As described in the previous section, many scientists tend to
group farmers based on ideologies, the most common segregation between the
Conservationists and the Productivists (Sulemana & James, 2014). While such a
simplification may overlook the complex character of each farmer, a demarcation can be
observed when considering the management practices and conservation behaviors of
these individuals and can provide useful insights into how farmers perceive themselves
(Sulemana & James, 2014). Even though farmers can be grouped based on management
practices, most farmers self-identify as stewards of the land, who value natural resources,
the land, landscape and nature as a central core representation of themselves (MichelGuillou & Moser, 2006).
According to Sulemana & James (2014), identity defines who someone is, how
they view themselves, and how they want to be perceived in the world; attitudes, on the
other hand, are an ‘expression, belief, opinion, evaluation or preference regarding a
specific person, event or activity’ (p. 51). While attitudes directly influence behavior
since they affect a person’s decision perceptions, one must also account for social and
self-identity and how this is positively or significantly correlated with environmental
conservation behaviors. Public image as well as cohort effects have been shown to have
an equal or even greater influence of farmers’ management decisions, especially in terms
of environmental and natural resource conservation (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006).
Through an analysis of three case studies, this section explores exactly how identity
influences perception and subsequently behavior in terms of environmental impacts
within farmer groups.

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According to Aldo Leopold (1949), “the landscape of any farm is the owner’s
portrait of himself” (pg. 299). This explicitly describes how farmer identity manifests
itself through one’s management practices and explains that farmers’ personal identity is
closely linked to their ‘farmer identity’. McGuire et al. (2015) described row crop
farmers in Iowa as consisting of four different identities: the Productivist,
Conservationist, Civic-minded and Naturalist21; they then collected results for the Iowa
Farm and Rural Life Poll with 1360 selectable responses. By asking farmers what they
consider to be a ‘good farmer’, the used 31 factors to inform this definition, which
include: “reduces income volatility, puts long-term conservation of farm resources before
short-term profits, and keeps fencerows clear of brush’”, among others (McGuire et al.,
2015, p. 154). In addition, the authors proposed five agricultural policy situations to
measure how the farmers would react in specific socio-ecological contexts; these include
scenarios like: “Conservation compliance policy should be extended beyond soil erosion
to cover other areas such as water quality and wildlife habitat” (water quality) or “More
money for conservation would mean more regulations for Iowa farmers” (conservation
regulation) to name a few (McGuire et al. 2015, p. 150).
The authors found typical variables associated with both the Productivist and
Conservationist identities; for Productivist, farmers, they prioritized chemical and
technological use, wanted the highest yield per acre, and believed fields should be clean
with no surface residue. Conservationists, on the other hand, prioritized the protection of
natural resources, minimizing soil erosion and runoff, maintaining organic matter, and
being mindful of their impact on local waterways (McGuire et al., 2015). Interestingly,
21

I will only consider the Productivist and Conservationist since they were the two largest groups
reported in the study.

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the Conservationist and Productivist perspectives aligned on four of the policy models
proposed, including: ‘water quality’, ‘highly erodible land’, ‘coupled drainage-wetlands’,
and ‘wildlife, parks and trails’. This suggests that even though both groups identify with
various management practices, their ‘socio-ecological’ approaches were quite similar.
Since these perspectives align, the authors posit that it may be possible to align the
management practices of the Productivist farmer more towards that of the
Conservationist, and that future research and policy should orient itself towards this
pursuit (McGuire et al., 2015).
Michel-Guillou & Moser (2006) conducted a survey of over 200 farmers in the
Picardie region of Northern France in October of 2002. First, the authors categorized
farmers based on their adherence and non-adherence to pro-environmental practices like:
organic certification, preserving water quality, reducing chemical inputs and adopting
voluntary environmental practices as established by the government (Michel-Guillou &
Moser, 2006). In so doing, the farmers were split into two groups: those adopting more
traditional, Productivist practices and those that practiced environmental conservation.
The authors then focused on the “relationship between farming practices and
representations farmers have towards the natural environment, their attitudes towards
pro-environmental practices, and their beliefs towards water resources” (Michel-Guillou
& Moser, 2006, p. 230).
Using a Likert Scale, the participants were asked to rank their justification for
voluntary water conservation practices as a way to improve their public image, increase
revenue, preserve the natural environment or as a method that only presents challenges.
In addition, they were also asked to create a hierarchical word association as a means to

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articulate social structure as a representation of the environment. Finally, they were
asked to rank how they valued water quality, how exposed they felt to degraded water,
and what was their personal capacity for action in terms of water quality preservation;
additionally, the authors also evaluated how personally responsible farmers felt for water
pollution compared to both household and industrial responsibility (Michel-Guillou &
Moser, 2006).
The authors identified 124 farmers committed to pro-environmental action and 81
farmers that did not practice what the authors defined as ‘pro-environmental behavior’.
Interestingly, both groups of farmers identified the same word association as their central
core representation, with Water, Respect, Land, Landscape, and Nature the five most
frequently identified words within the participating group (Michel-Guillou & Moser,
2006). While this suggests that the influence of ideological factors is difficult to
determine a farmers’ inclination towards environmental conservation, it also implies that
farmers are largely aware of their surroundings and value the protection and enhancement
of their land as a central tenet of their identity (Michel-Guillou & Moser 2006).
Both groups also believed that environmental action has the capacity to improve
their public image and can also restore the environment. Interestingly, both groups
choose environmental conservation practices because they value their public image and
seek social approval over environmental protection. In addition, both groups recognized
few longstanding constraints or financial benefit from its implementation. In terms of
personal responsibility, both groups also felt less responsible for water pollution, and put
more blame on households and industry than on the agricultural sector (Michel-Guillou &
Moser, 2006).

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While both groups identified issues of water quality in the region, farmers that
practice environmental and natural resource conservation felt more involved and capable
of managing issues of water pollution. Therefore, one’s perceived ability to improve
degraded water is correlated to their implementation of pro-environmental management
regimes (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006). The authors suggest that this can be linked to
ideology, since ego-centric motivations like improved public image were more influential
than the need to protect the environment; however, this valuation of social importance
and personal identity has “made farmers aware of the seriousness of environmental
problems, allowing them to thus examine the impact of their practices and of their
possibility for action” (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006, p. 234). Even so, the fact that
both groups of farmers share central core values of respect and protection of their local
landscapes suggests that farmers do have a sense of responsibility for the land, and that
land stewardship is an important part of their identity as farmers.
Through an analysis of data for over 700 Missouri farmers, Sulemana & James
(2014) examined the different farmer identities, types and how these inform their
attitudes towards ‘ethically sensitive environmental issues’. The authors investigated
three aspects of identity: 1) a comparison between Conservationist/Productivist
ideologies, 2) whether general optimism or pessimism influences management decisions,
and 3) farmers preference for technological advancement or more traditional practices.
The farmers were then asked to rank their agreement on a Likert scale to a series of
questions raising ethical issues pertaining to the application of pesticides in windy
conditions (Windy Ethic), the disposal of pesticides containers illegally (Disposing Ethic)
and applying herbicides that have been observed in local well water sources (Herbicide

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Ethic). Sulemana & James (2014) sought to perceive how a farmer’s personal
characteristics when faced with specific situations affect their ethical attitudes towards
the environment in an attempt to see whether or not how one’s identity influences their
ethical attitudes and behaviors towards specific environmental issues.
The authors found that over half of the respondents considered all three scenarios
to be unethical, with 75% of the respondents believing that the Herbicide Ethic was
immoral (Sulemana & James, 2014). The farmer type that positively correlated with
having attitudes that each environmental scenario was unethical identified as
Conservationists, were pessimistic in their overall outlook, and favored technological
advancement. On the other hand, Productivists, optimists and those favoring more
traditional agricultural practices were found to believe the three scenarios were less
unethical, although these findings were not statistically significant (Sulemana & James,
2014). In addition, the authors found that of all three identity types described, the
Productivist/Conservationist distinction was the most representative of unethical feelings,
with over half of the Conservationists identifying all three questions as unethical and less
than 1/3 of the participants agreeing that all three were unethical (Sulemana & James,
2014).
Another study discovered four divergent perspectives of farmers in Austria
concerning their motivations for environmentally sustainable behavior. Through a Q
methodological approach, a method used to study a group of people’s viewpoints on
specific issues, Walder and Kantelhardt (2018) interviewed thirty farmers and classified
them into four distinct groups. The largest group, making up 31% of the variation of
their sample, had a strong feeling of responsibility towards the environment and the

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‘common good’, and was willing to sacrifice income for its preservation. These farmers
believe that the modern agricultural system is to blame for causing environmental
degradation. Made up of 11% of the variation, the second group believed that
implementing conservation practices is context-dependent, and that extenuating
circumstances are highly influential to the adoption of these practices. They blamed
bureaucracy and poor policy-enactment for environmental degradation as well as market
and consumer-driven choices. The third group (10% of the variation) was financially
driven; they understood the benefits of environmental protection and were willing to
implement modern technology into traditional practices like chemical use. They viewed
environmental degradation as a result of individual management decision but saw
positive change in modern agriculture. The final group made up 8% of the variation and
believed that three components increase on-farm environmental sustainability; changing
consumer consumption, increasing communication and establishing better policy for the
promotion of agri-environmental schemes are the best ways to ensure its continued
growth (Walder & Kantelhardt, 2018).
It is clear that a complex interplay of different factors influences farmers’
management decisions and their inclination to adopt conservation practices. While some
argue that categorizing farmers into distinct groups over-simplifies a number of complex
factors influencing their identities, others argue that it serves as a useful tool to
understand the motivations of different management practices (Sulemana & James, 2014;
Mills et al., 2018). All of the studies within this section identify differences based on
management practices. Some have identified differences between Productivists and
Conservationists based on ethical valuation (Sulemana & James, 2014) and that some

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farmers were motivated to implement conservation practices based on financial drivers
(Walder & Kantelhardt 2018). Social cohort effects proved to be highly influential in the
implementation of environmental conserving practices, which is a clear link to one’s
identity (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006). Regardless of their categorization, all farmers
shared a sense of responsibility and respect for the land, suggesting that land stewardship
is a key tenet of the overall farmer identity (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006; McGuire et
al. 2015; Walder & Kantelhardt, 2018).

Defining and valuing soil health
While most farmers consider themselves to be stewards of the land, this does not
inherently translate to implementing sustainable management practices. There are a
number of extenuating circumstances, which will be discussed in the following section
that may inhibit a farmer’s capacity to practice sustainable soil management.
Nevertheless, as an effective means to determine the connection between farming
philosophy and farmer identity, Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey (2002) investigated how
farmers in New South Wales, Australia defined and described soil health. The authors
asked farmers to define soil health, explain how they identified healthy and unhealthy
soil, what tools they used to measure soil health, and how they utilized outside resources
to better understand the concept of soil health and its relationship to their farm. The
authors argue that through a value orientation of soil health, scientists, agronomists and
farmers can better understand what motivates end users, how their local knowledge
informs their soil health knowledge, and how this information can be used to improve
overall natural resource management (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002).

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The authors conducted in-depth and informal interviews with 75 farmers that
followed 14 questions as a means to gain “thick descriptions” of how farmers define,
determine and identify soil health (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). The authors first
identified how farmers valued sustainability based on a hierarchy of objectives: over half
of the participants favored sustainability for increased income, while the second most
influential motivator for implementing sustainable practices was to improve their
physical environment. This suggests that farmers implement sustainable management
practices to increase their income and have a minimal effect on their local physical
environment. This aligns with the idea that while receiving income is typically the most
important factor for farmers, they hope to impact their local physical environment as little
as possible (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006; Darragh & Emery, 2018; Mills et al. 2018).
When defining soil health, most farmers throughout New South Wales
emphasized soil productivity, and explained that healthy soil had sufficient amounts of
limiting nutrients like nitrogen (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). Even though this was
the most common response, farmers used a multitude of definitions including the idea
that soil was “…a living thing. It’s not just a bit of dirt”. Healthy soils, for the most part,
equated to healthy crops for these individuals; most used qualitative descriptions, while
only a few used quantifiable concepts like organic matter content or microbial activity
(Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). By using simple adjectives like “good” frequently,
many of these responses may seem overly simplistic. Regardless, the authors argue that
these responses provide insight into how and why farmers define soil health, with their
primary justification being to determine crop limitations (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey,
2003).

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According to the authors, farmers rely on an average of four features to judge the
status of soil health. While variation among districts was identified, the most consistent
indicators were plant growth as well as how the soil felt; 100% of farmers interviewed
mentioned these factors multiple times (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). In terms of
soil feel, 50% of farmers used the term friable to describe good quality soils. On the
other hand, and unhealthy soils were described as chunky, powdery, glazed, and hardpacked. In addition, an average of 78% of farmers across different districts identified
organic matter as a prominent indicator of soil health. Many suggested a strong
relationship between soil structure and organic matter content (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey,
2002). The authors point out that for both healthy and unhealthy soils, farmers largely
utilized visual indicators, suggesting that through experience and observation, they are
able to better understand what management practices affect soil health over time.
For this cohort of farmers, soil monitoring was viewed as a continuous process
where observations were conducted in conjunction to the performance of other tasks, like
cultivation, driving around, checking for weeds, collecting soil tests, or maintaining farm
infrastructure like building a fence (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). This is an
important point for researchers and agronomists, since most farmers prefer to observe soil
health while performing other tasks, and not as a chore executed in isolation. Of all
forms of measurement, 67% of farmers conducted soil tests, while 52% utilized visual
crop and soil inspections to measure health for both. While organic matter was used as
an indicator of soil health, the living or dead biomass accumulated aboveground was the
favored indicator, while few if any identified root biomass or humus as a measurement of
soil health (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey 2023). This again suggests that easily identifiable

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visual indicators are favored by farmers as opposed to sample collection or other formal
soil analyses.
As an experience-based and observation-oriented cohort, farmers utilize
seemingly simplistic means to identify soil health. The authors found that most do not
use the term “soil health” in normal conversation but are constantly evaluating and
checking the quality of their soil in conjunction with other daily tasks. By evaluating
how farmers define, determine and monitor soil health, Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey (2002)
posit that scientists and agronomists can create soil health checklists or other effective
monitoring tools customized to easily adapt to the current practices employed by farmers
to measure soil health. The authors point out that these checklists are “a means to a
beginning, not an end”, suggesting that more research is necessary into how farmers
utilize these tools, and which measurements are most effective (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey
2002). Nevertheless, identifying how farmers understand and observe soil health can
help farmers, scientists and agronomists work harmoniously towards implementing
sustainable management practices.
Throughout this section, soil and agricultural scientists have attempted to define
the best means to understand how farming philosophy informs a farmer’s identity. While
some choose to segregate farmers into either the Conservationist or Productivist camp,
many recognize that what unifies farmers is their identity as land stewards (MichelGuillou & Moser, 2006; Sulemana & James, 2014; Darragh & Emery, 2018; Mills et al.,
2018) As addressed by Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey (2002), farmers wish to implement
sustainable management practices to improve their income and mitigate negative effects
on their physical environment. While it is true that most farmers consider themselves to

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be stewards of the land, there are a number of other factors that significantly impact their
management decisions, like aversion to risk, regardless of the philosophy or identity
upheld by these individuals.

Risk management and aversion
Within farming, there are not only financial risks, like fluctuations in demand and
price, but also biological and geophysical constraints that can be hard to predict and even
more difficult to adapt to. Common risks cited by farmers include: drought, disease and
pest infestations, personal health and safety, yield risks, unstable markets and institutions,
as well as unpredictable weather and natural disasters (Sulewski & Kloczko-Gajewska,
2014). Understanding how farmers perceive, prepare for, adapt to and manage risk can
be an indicator of their adoption of soil conservation management practices. If farmers
perceive adopting new management practices as risky, under what conditions are they
most likely to change to a more sustainable method? The following section considers a
number of risks and the likelihood that farmers will adopt environmentally conscious
management practices with or without the incidence of such risks.
According to Boehm & Burton (1997), in order for farmers to adopt soilconserving practices, there must be a financial benefit to some degree, whether perceived
in the short-term or long-term. Farmers’ willingness to implement new methods is also
highly dependent on their feelings of risk; if they are in a more comfortable financial
situation, they are more likely to implement a new practice (like minimum or no tillage,
for example). As reported by Doran (2002) of an Australian farmer, “It’s hard to be
green when you’re in the red”. It is important that soil conservation practices not impose
on the profitability of the farmer; Boehm & Burton (1997) considered Canadian grain

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farmers and their likelihood of adopting minimum and no till practices. The authors
found that since some conservation practices may exhaust capital and external resources
(which includes labor, power, irrigation, and operating capital), farmers must initially feel
financially secure before they choose to implement such practices. The availability of
resources like capital, inputs and labor determined the likelihood of adopting soilconserving practices. Individuals with fewer resources tended to use lower-input, lowerrisk farming systems while farmers with ample resources were more likely to adopt soil
conservation.
Through a survey of 600 Polish farmers, Sulewski & Kloczko-Gajewska (2014)
addressed three points: what these farmers identified as risks, if they were similar to other
farmers in their risk aversion, and if their specific level of risk aversion impacted their
crop management decision-making. Of all weather-related risk factors, drought was
considered to be the riskiest, with a medium level of perceived risk. Responses
concerning risk aversion were highly correlated to personal health, with financial being
the second largest risk factor. While the authors found that risk aversion did influence the
farmers’ management decisions through crop selection, what impacted their risk aversion
the most were: the farmers’ debt ratio, past experience with crop failures, overall soil
health as well as their ability to be financially independent. To manage risk, farmers use
crop insurance, off-farm employment, saving and accumulating capital, or diversifying
their crop systems to adapt to market fluctuations (Sulewski & Kloczko-Gajewska,
2014).
This study shows that climate and finances are perceived by farmers as the
riskiest factors in terms of financial and personal health and that one’s risk aversion is

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closely connected to the farmers’ financial stability, past experiences, and even soil
quality; they choose to mitigate these risks through insurance, outside employment, and
by selecting more diversified cropping systems. Bowman & Zilberman (2013) also point
out that many farmers are risk averse, and that financial and biological/geophysical
constraints were likely to impact management decisions. Farmers that are more risk
averse or are more financially constrained are less likely to incorporate new technology
or management practices into their system, but this is also influenced by knowledge of
new practices and skills possessed (Bowman & Zilberman, 2013).
This section shows that farmers have a tendency to be risk averse, and that
perceived or actual risks can significantly influence management decisions. Farmers
perceive the implementation of new management practices and technology as risky and
may be less likely to implement them if they are financially unstable or have experienced
negative outcomes when adopting a new practice. Two of the biggest risks perceived by
farmers are climatic, especially drought, and financial, specifically profit and market
fluctuations. Farmers also know how to deal with negative outcomes, and use crop
insurance, outside employment, or save capital to handle bad times when they happen
(Boehm & Burton, 1997; Bowman & Zilberman, 2013; Sulewski & Kloczko-Gajewska,
2014). In terms of potential policy action, this research shows that alleviating at least
financial risks for farmers may be the best way to encourage them to adopt new
technologies or management practices, especially in terms of soil conservation.

Tacit Knowledge Takeaways
This section has covered a number of different ways in which farmers collect and
disseminate information. In terms of demographic characteristics, it is difficult to

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identify a single factor as a determinant for soil health knowledge, since a number of
different attributes make up an individual’s personal history. While age can be used as a
proxy for experience, Burton (2014) found that in many cases, younger farmers were
more inclined to implement soil conservation practices. Other studies have found that
one’s ‘sense of place’ can serve as a predictor for pro-environmental management, as
well; for this cohort of doers, users and interactors, experience gathered through trial-anderror, familiarity with certain farming techniques, and the development of intuition
through experience is one of the most influential factors involved in the collection and
transmission of farmer knowledge (Burton, 2014). In terms of education, quality (or
type) seems to be more influential than quantity (the number of years); in terms of tacit
knowledge, though, many farmers can be considered good farmers with little or no
education (Hatch, 1992; Burton 2014). In addition, more females are becoming
interested in farming, and some studies have shown that females are more inclined to
implement soil-conserving practices (Sachs et al., 2016). Regardless, demographic and
personal history is only one piece of the complex matrix that makes up a farmer’s
knowledge base.
Farmers interact with each other and the private and public sector in different
capacities. These include communites of practice, networks of practice, and webs of
influencers; what differentiates these groups is the level of trust and degree of intimacy
within and amongst these different cohorts (Oreszczyn et al., 2010). Through an analysis
of the three different groups previously described, Oreszczyn et al. (2010) found that
webs of influencers were more influential on the actual implementation of new practices
and drive to acquire new knowledge. Even so, social capital, which is closely linked to

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communities and networks of practice, holds much sway over the implementation of
certain practices by farmers, and one’s own identity within a specific group largely
influences how they manage their land (Kizos et al., 2014).
Many researchers have attempted to define and identify different farmer
identities; most of these individuals believe that segregating farmers into two separate
groups provides better insight into the formation of farmer identities and can better
inform their management practices and farming philosophy (Michel-Guillou & Moser,
2006; Darragh & Emery, 2018; Mills et al., 2018). While farmers may uphold different
ideologies and implement different management practices, there are a number of complex
factors that influence their identities and management decisions; first and foremost,
farmers consider themselves to be stewards of the land, and extenuating circumstances
like market demands, risk aversion, or financial stability may hold greater influence than
ideological or philosophical affiliation (Boehm & Burton, 1997; Bowman & Zilberman,
2013; Kizos et al., 2014). Regardless of their philosophy or identity, understanding how
farmers define, describe and measure soil health can help researchers and agronomists
work alongside farmers and land managers to improve soil health on a larger scale (Lobry
de Bruhn & Abbey, 2002).
In summary, farmers are complex individuals who exist in complex social and
biological systems; because of this, it is difficult to create generalizations that apply to all
farmer groups. Therefore, we must consider each farmer, farm system and farming
community as a unique entity operating within diverse social and biological ecosystems.
When studying complex agro-ecological systems, it is therefore necessary to understand
both the geological and social formation of these agricultural communities. In order to

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thoroughly understand how Yakima County became an agricultural epicenter of
Washington State, it is necessary to consider the geological and social formation of this
area. In so doing, we can see what factors contributed to the social, cultural and
ecological transformation of the area, and can better understand the complex interplay of
factors that determine soil health throughout the Yakima Valley.

Social and geological history of Yakima

Figure 4: Map of the Yakima region, showing the numerous ridges and valleys formed
over millions of years of geologic events
(http://geoduck.maps.arcgis.com/home/webmap/viewer.html?useExisting=1)
A number of unique geological and social events taking place over millions of
years contributed to Yakima’s place as an epicenter of agriculture. A series of lava flows
and topographical folds and faults formed the unique landscape and parent material of the
area beginning 17 million years ago. More recently, the Great Missoula Floods were a
result of glacial and inter-glacial periods of freezing and thawing during the Pleistocene
Epoch. As a result of geologic and climatic events over millions of years, the
topography, soils and vegetation created the desert-steppe we see today. The social

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history of the area varies greatly, with its first documented inhabitants being the nomadic
Yakama people that depended heavily on the Yakima River and its bounty for millennia.
About 150 years ago, Euro-American settlers began populating the landscape, and the
westward expansion of the United States severely imposed on the livelihood of the
Yakama tribe. With further technological and agricultural development, irrigation canal
projects beginning at the end of the 19th century provided ample water from the Columbia
and the Yakima rivers to irrigate millions of acres of desert. These events, which will be
described in further detail, shaped Yakima into the agricultural hub it is today.

Geological history
The Yakima area formed over a series of volcanic eruptions, lava flows, uplifts,
folds, vaults, glaciations, floods, and stream entrenchment over the past 17 million years
(Campbell, 1976). This series of geological events shaped the valley into the agricultural
region it is today. Activity from the mid-Miocene era (17 million years ago) to the great
Lake Missoula Flood during the Pleistocene era (13,000 years ago) and subsequent
volcanic eruptions has shaped a uniquely fertile soil. A brief description of the
geological history of the area will follow, citing the major events that formed the area.

Lava flows, folds and faults
Geologic records show that prior to 17 million years ago, Yakima was a flat plain
with no ridges and valleys; the Cascade Range had not yet formed, nor had the Columbia
or Yakima Rivers carved the area (Campbell, 1976). At this time, though, tectonic
movement of the North American Plate across the Juan de Fuca Plate instigated a series
of lava flows to the east that accumulated across Yakima (TOTLE Workshop, 2007).
These flows created the Yakima Basalt, a series of three distinct events that formed the

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underlying bedrock of the area. Reaching 1,000 meters deep but not continuously, the
Yakima Basalt has been broken up by layers of gravel, sand, silt, clay and soil. The
volcanoes of the Cascade Range created the Ellensburg Formation beginning 10.5 to 12.5
million years ago, consisting mostly of volcanic pyroclastic and tuff material of both
coarse and fine texture, was formed by the volcanoes of the Cascade Range beginning
10.5 to 12.5 million years ago (Campbell, 1976). During this time, the Columbia River
flowed through Yakima and meandered south to present-day Harrah, preceding the rapid
folds and shifts that would further shape the valley.
According to Norman et al. (2004), the formation of anticlines and synclines,
ridges and valleys of material from the Yakima Basalt and Ellensburg Formation that
have been folded and faulted, began at least 9 million years ago. Four different types of
faults can be observed in this area: thrusting faults, which occur along the flanks of north
ridges on an east-west trend; normal faults, similar to thrusting faults but with minor
folding; high-angle reverse faults, which occur near ridge crests; and strike-slip faults that
trend north-south and cut across ridges (Campbell, 1976). This structural movement
continued at a rapid rate until 1 million years ago and pushed the path of the Columbia
River to the east, around the Yakima Ridge and Horseheaven Hills. Although the path of
the Columbia River shifted with the structural changes in the valley, the Yakima River
maintained the same channel as it resides today, entrenching into the basalt (Campbell,
1976).

The Great Lake Missoula floods
One of the most controversial theories for the formation of Eastern Washington
came from the J. Harlan Bretz, a geologist who suggested that enormous flooding of pre-

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glacial valleys took place in what is known as the Channeled Scablands (Bretz, 1928).
The Scablands, “a gigantic series of deeply cut channels in erosion-resistant Columbia
River basalt”, covers most of the southeastern part of the state, including the Yakima
Valley (Bretz, 1959, foreword). Although discounted by many early geologists because
of the rapidity of the geological formation, J. Harlan Bretz defended his flood theory due
to the presence of: anastomosing river channels (that inexplicably diverge and converge),
rock basins, scarps in loess, butte and basin topography, cataracts, broad gravel deposits,
bars, giant current ripples, backwater deposits and scablands of different ages (Bretz,
1959). Even today, many geologists uphold Bretz’ theory, and some have called for the
re-naming of the “Great Missoula Floods” to the “Bretz Floods” (Johnson, 2011).
During the Late Pleistocene, Glacial Lake Missoula held approximately 2,100
km3 (about 1305 miles3) of water that was at least 610 meters (2000 feet) tall; however,
as the major glacier covering most of the northern hemisphere began to warm, the ice
dam enclosing the glacial lake broke loose, releasing massive amounts of water across the
eastern part of Washington state (Campbell, 1976). At the Walula Gap in the Pasco
Basin, large volumes of water plugged up this anticline divide, which eventually widened
the canyon and created a delta at the mouth of the Columbia River (Norman et al., 2004).
Water traveled well into the Yakima valley, as far south as Union Gap and White Swan;
evidence of the events can be seen in the formation of gravel bars and large deposits of
alluvial silt at least 20 m thick in the lower valley (Campbell, 1976).
The largest flooding event is believed to have taken place 13,000 years ago,
although at least 40 potential flooding events have been suggested (Waitt, 1987).
Through an analysis of geomorphological and sedimentological deposits throughout

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present-day Montana, Idaho and Washington, Shaw et al. (2009) argues that the great
Lake Missoula floods did not form the scablands alone. A sub-glacial reservoir extending
over much of British Columbia and the northwestern section of the United States
(referred to as the Cordilleran Ice sheet) can explain the geomorphological evidence
suggesting that 50 times the amount of water (100,000 km3 or over 620,000 miles3) of the
Missoula floods covered the Columbia Basin. Much of the sedimentary deposits across
the scablands differ from those within the Great Lake Missoula; in addition, the authors
argue that drainage patterns from the North and great erosion downstream from the
Columbia River and Grand Coulee could be explained by flow from the Cordilleran ice
sheet. The authors propose very few flooding events influenced the formation of the area
over a geological history (Shaw et al. 2009).

The Columbia River Basin
The geology of the Columbia River Basin formed unique soils within the Yakima
Valley. Underlain by a thick layer of Basalt, the weathering of this bedrock has made
various nutrients available for plant growth. The meandering of the Columbia and
Yakima rivers deposited sand, silt and clay at different locations throughout the area, and
also contributed to the weathering of the basalt layers. Fine silt sediment from the
Glacial Missoula floods accumulated in bars and can be observed south of the Ahtanum
ridge. Loess from the strong southwestern winds picked up fine materials and deposited
them in a thin layer (less than 3 m). Ash from the high level of volcanic activity has also
accumulated in the area. Worster (1985) describes how the Columbia River changed the
landscape of the Columbia River Basin, influencing the ability for humans to farm the
land.

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“The main stem of the Columbia charges down from the Canadian Rockies into the United
States, now running north, now south, then west, then south again, struggling to find its
way through the Cascades, finally turning westward toward the sea. In the Pleistocene, a
massive block of ice forced the river up and out of its twisty canyons, compelling it to carve
a new path for itself—the Grand Coulee, a detour fifty miles long and as much as a
thousand feet deep—until it could regain its established course. When the ice melted, the
river reverted to the old way, leaving the Coulee a dry, abandoned trench. Falling away
from that ancient, disused gash in the earth was an immense stretch of eminently arable
land, sagebrushy and cloudless, a land standing in a rain shadow, but a land that might, so
local boosters believed, be transformed into an ‘inland empire of agriculture, the Great
Columbia Plain” (Worster, pg. 270).

Topography
The Yakima Fold Belt is a series of ridges and wide-reaching valleys that stretch
east of the Cascade Range (Norman et al., 2004). The Umtanum ridge to the northeast of
the valley, divides Kittitas and Yakima counties within the Columbia River Basin. The
Columbia River borders this ridge to the east, while the Yakima River winds to the west.
The City of Yakima sits in the Ahtanum Valley, bordered to the South by the Rattlesnake
Hills and the Ahtanum Ridge. The two ridges are divided by a gap formed by the
Yakima River. South of the Ahtanum Ridge is the Yakima Valley, the northern part of
the Yakima Indian Reservation, which is bordered to the south by the Toppenish Ridge
(Weberling et al., 2001).

Climate
Characteristic of southeastern Washington, the Yakima Valley is continental
semiarid: clear hot days and cool nights are typical in the summer, with wet, cloudy and
cold winters. Average temperatures in the winter reach 0 Degrees C (32 degrees F), and
an average temperature of 20 degrees C (69 degrees F) during the summer, with many
days well over 37 degrees C (100 degrees F) (US Climate Data, 2018).

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Due to varying topography and proximity to the Cascades, precipitation and
weather can vary substantially (Foxworthy, 1962). Mean annual precipitation from 19702000 along the Cascade Crest (which feeds into the Yakima Basin) was between 203 and
356 cm (80 to 140 inches), while at the basin’s outlet, average annual precipitation was
below 25 cm (10 inches) (Vano et al., 2010). Although heavy rainfall occurs high above
the valley floor along the Cascade Crest, the Rainshadow effect creates a dessert climate
to the east of the mountains (Washington Native Plant Society, 2018). Rain is common
in the winter but ceases in the summer; while rapid vegetation growth occurs in the
springtime, it nearly ceases in the dry, hot summer. Because of this, it is essential that
soils in this area store water in the winter and can supply ample quantities during the dry
summers (Daubenmire, 1988).

Vegetation
The Yakima Valley is part of the Shrub-Steppe ecosystem which covers 6 million
hectares of central-eastern Washington and north-central Oregon (Daubenmire, 1988).
The undisturbed Artemesia tridentate-Agropyron spicatum ecosystem consists of
perennial grasses and patches of over-story shrubs (Dobler et al., 1996). Artemisia
tridentata (sagebrush) is the predominant over-story shrub of this area, and Agropyron
spicatum (bluebunch wheatgrass) is the primary grass; due to the openness of both the
sagebrush and the wheatgrass, enough light reaches the understory so that other
vegetative layers may develop (Daubenmire, 1988). Even in the driest parts of the
Washington steppe, no undisturbed land is left bare. A cryptogamic layer of lichens and
moss covers any vegetation-less soil, but due to its fragility, can be easily disturbed by
grazing animals or other traffic (Daubenmire, 1988).

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From desert steppe to agricultural epicenter
Due to the dry, hot summers in the Yakima area, one would assume that
agricultural production would not be possible; however, with the areas proximity to the
cascades and abundance of water flowing down to the valleys, ample sunshine, and the
white man’s propensity to convert marginal lands to agriculture, many settlers foresaw
the agricultural abundance that would grace this land. It is therefore necessary to
understand the relationship between humans and land in Yakima, and how that has
transformed over the last two hundred years.

Social history
Yakima has experienced a complete geographical transformation due to the
encroachment and development of white settlers in the area over the past 200 years.
Before settlers descended upon Yakima, the Yakama tribe inhabited the area practicing a
subsistence lifestyle of hunting, gathering and fishing (Wester, 1999). In 1855, the
Yakama signed a treaty with the US establishing the Yakama reservation, a 1.25-millionacre property along the Yakima River. As more and more white settlers populated the
sagebrush and the government manifested its vision of an agricultural West, the Yakama
tribe was forced into the Dawes Act of 1887 with the hopes that Indians would adopt ‘the
Bible and the plow’ and choose a more ‘civilized’ lifestyle (Wester, 1999).
Simultaneously, the railroad companies and businessmen hungry to continue the
agricultural development of the area established plans to bring the abundant water from
the Cascade Mountains to the Yakima desert. From 1890 to the 1930s, nearly 500,000
acres of land was brought under irrigation with the help of the railroads and private
businesses, with the largest contributor the federal Bureau of Reclamation (Dick, 1993).

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The culmination of cultural changes over the past few hundred years shaped Yakima into
the agricultural mecca it is today.

The Yakama People: semi-nomadic to allotted aliens
The Yakama22 people consist of 14 distinct bands of semi-nomadic people that
have inhabited the Yakima Valley for at least 12,000 years (Wester, 1999; ZeisterVralsted, 1999). According to the tribe, “tribal people comprising the Yakama Nation
have lived in this area since the beginning of time. They used the entire land base, from
the lowlands around the Columbia River to the snow-peaked Cascade Mountains.
Yakama people spent the coldest months in winter villages generally located on the
valley floor… Villages were located on or near waterways, in places where a variety of
resources could be obtained…” (Healy, n.d.). They migrated in springtime, following
fresh edible vegetation consisting of camas, bitterroot and berries; these individuals also
hunted the abundant wildlife, including deer, elk, sharp-tailed grouse, and the salmon that
returned to the Columbia and Yakima rivers (Zeister-Vralsted, 1999). All of this food
would be accumulated during the warm months to be kept and preserved during the
wintertime, when Indians would return to the river valleys for warmth, wood and water
(Healy, n.d.).
Beginning at the turn of the 19th century, Euro-Americans attempted to inhabit the
Yakima Valley; they saw great potential for agriculture but were met with challenges
with the harsh desert climate. As more settlers sought land in Yakima, the US
government forced the reservations into a treaty delineating their lands; the treaty of 1855

22

The Yakama Nation renamed themselves in the 1990s to more closely represent the proper
pronunciation of the word (Healy). In this section, Yakama refers to the tribe, while Yakima refers to the
city, river and county.

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was an exchange of 10 million acres for $200,000 and 1.25 million acres of land to the
Yakama. A major statute of the treaty was that the Indian subsistence way of living be
maintained; however, even though they were guaranteed access to fish and other waterdependent resources, they were not guaranteed water itself. This issue surfaces later.
Also included in the treaty, provisions were provided to teach the tribe about the ‘EuroAmerican’ culture, and legislation also granted settlers the ability to inhabit the
reservation to “lay the foundation of a farming society” (Wester, 1999).
R.H. Lansdale, an Office of Indian Affairs (OIA) agent for the Yakama tribe
believed that,
“with a fixed home, and with an individual right in the soil from which the [Yakama] will
be instructed to derive their subsistence, they will be stimulated to… create an adaptation
to civilized pursuits never to be acquired while the nomadic character is retained…
[Yakama must be] fixed to the soil, as such domestication must always underlie any
permanent progress in civilization” (Wester, 1999).
With this hope, the Dawes Act of 1889 came to fruition. This granted each tribal member
an ‘allotment’ on the reservation of up to 160 acres per head of household. Though not
explicitly communicated, the OIA classified land as a means to determine who was best
fit to manage the land, whether they would hold it in trust for the tribe, lease it to raise
tribal revenue or sell it to white settlers under the pretenses that they were better suited to
farm the land than the Indians themselves (Wester, 1999, p. 208).
Many Indians were hesitant at first, and at least 1/10th were referred to as ‘Wild
Yakamas’ because of their refusal to acknowledge validity of the Dawes Act because
they believed that “the earth was their mother and her bosom should not be scarred with
section lines and subdivisions” (Wester, 1999, p. 210). At first, the draw for the Dawes
Act was minimal, since the cost of conversion to agricultural land was high, agricultural
production was not an immediate guarantee, and most would have to practice their

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historic hunting-fishing-gathering in the interim; however, by 1898, the white
encroachment forced many to change their minds. According to White Swan, the
Yakama Chief from 1868-1910, “You see at Yakima and Goldendale there is a city over
there at both sides and the whites is pushing us on each side… They are hurting us on
both sides” (Wester, 1999, p. 211). While the initial hope of the Dawes Act was to
encourage Indians to adopt an “American” way of life, many unforeseen problems arose.
Few allotted Indians thrived financially by adopting a neo-colonial agrarian
lifestyle. Those that acquired land near the valley floor had better soil fertility, and those
that had access to capital for tools and seeds as well as water access were the lucky ones.
Even if individuals had direct access to water, large irrigation reclamation projects
diverted water into canals; while the government attempted to define water rights for the
natives, a ‘free-for-all of water speculation’ resulted in the drying of streams due to overexcessive use (Wester, 1999). Congress finally granted the Yakama access to water, but
the tribe was limited to 147 cubic feet of water per second (cfs) while non-Indians were
granted 2065 cfs, according to an advocate of the tribe, Lucillus V. McWhorter, “It takes
to careful observer to right through the… Reservation… and pick out the Indian tilled
lands from those of white owners and lessors. The former invariably present a withered
appearance, while those of the whites show fine crops, resultant from sufficient water”
(Wester, 1999, p. 214).
The Dawes Act was a failure for a number of reasons, for the exploitation of the
Indian people, and the prevalence of white settlers who were willing to ‘swoop in’ and
purchase or lease land. The major issue of land development concerned the issue of land
development. “Because Congress could never decide whether it was more important for

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Indians to learn farming or for Indian land to be farmed—irrespective of who wielded the
plow—federal laws alternately raised and lowered maximum term lengths for allotment
leases” (Wester, 1999, p. 217). The problem with leased land, as stated clearly by Paul
Sears (1935), was that those that lease land will care for it less than the land they own
themselves. This gave rise to land deterioration and negatively impacted the tribe since
lessees were more interested in turning profits by maximizing crop production as opposed
to improving lands. Much of this leased land was over-irrigated, resulting in salinization
and over-grazed (Wester, 1999).
It is clear that injustices were committed to the Yakama Indians in the name of
‘Manifest Destiny’. With the sale of Yakama land at the turn of the century at $10 per
acre, many tribes people were outraged. As described by Yakama Louis Mann in a letter
to Indian Commission Robert Valentine in 1909:
“There are many poor Indians who have went to work and sold their…land through
Sup[erin]t[endant] or ag[en]t hand and this day many are suffering hard ship or starvation[.]
Why[?] Because one ten dollars monthly payment is…very small. I know no one on this
earth would go to work sell his lands and get his payment that way and make his business
go right[.]… You law makers there you need not want Indians to starve” (Wester, 1999, p.
218).
The OIA did not recognize these injustices but viewed the sale of Yakama land to white
settlers as progress in the right direction. The sale of Yakama land was considered a ‘law
of necessity’, a harsh introduction into the capitalist system rapidly overtaking the United
States (Wester, 1999).
In less than a century, the Yakama were transformed from semi-nomadic
tribespeople benefiting from the bounty of their native resources to essentially aliens that
were largely stripped of their land rights. In the name of progress and westward
expansion, the US government and white settlement encroached so heavily on their way

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of life that it was completely transformed. While the cultural setting shifted so
drastically, the vegetation and geography itself also changed. What was once a desert
steppe in many areas quickly transformed to an irrigated agriculture hub. The
establishment of extensive and intricate irrigation permitted the transformation of
sagebrush to crops.

Irrigation and the age of agriculture

Figure 5: Map of the surface-water irrigation districts, Yakima River Basin
(U.S. Geological Survey)
With ample water resources flowing down from the Cascade Mountains to the
vast dry desert of the Columbia River Basin, many with an inclination toward agricultural
development viewed this area as an ideal location for the establishment of a large
irrigation system. In half a century, the area east of the Cascades adopted a new
aesthetic, from sage and bunchgrass grew water-loving hay and alfalfa, and lush tree
fruits soon dotted the horizon. The mighty Columbia, and one of its largest tributaries,

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the Yakima River, supplied this conversion as dams, diversions and canals soon funneled
the thawed snow from the Cascades throughout the desert. In the name of progress,
human engineering and intervention further shaped the valley into an agricultural
epicenter.
Prior to irrigation, settlers could not see the lush landscape that Yakima would
once become; many described it as “nothing but hot winds, and dust and sagebrush” or
even “a bunchgrass waste” (Zeister-Vralsted, 1999). But the Euro-American’s insistence
to create a garden in the West was greater than what limitations the landscape presented.
As declared by FDR much later in 1934:
“You have acreage capable of supporting a much larger population than you now have.
And we believe that by proceeding with these great projects it will not only develop the
well-being of the far West and the Coast, but will also give an opportunity to many
individuals and families back in the older, settled parts of the nation to come out here and
distribute some of the burdens which fall on them more heavily than fall on the West…
You shall have the opportunity of still going West” (Worster, 1985, p. 270).
As the railroads continued the race westward, the idea of irrigation appealed to the
railroads and local businesses as a means to increase profit. With the formation of the
Yakima Canal and Land Company in 1889 under Walter M. Granger, construction on the
largest canal in the area, the Sunnyside canal, was under way (Dick, 1993). A number of
successive companies formed with the goal to create two canals: one in Kittitas county,
and an extensive and intricate irrigation system at the Yakima headwaters, with the main
line as the Sunnyside canal. As explained by a local newspaper in 1893, “two years ago
if a man had settled on a piece of that and he would have been advised to [a local mental
institution]. Water makes the difference”. (Zeister-Vrlasted, 1999, pg. 391).
While work began on the Sunnyside canal in 1891, the Depression of 1893 halted
plans, and the ‘flow of potential settlers’ was also stunted (Dick, 1993). While other

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private sector attempts were made, the over-appropriation of the Yakima River with
halted development plans intrigued the federal Bureau of Reclamation. In 1904 and
1905, government-funded surveys by Reclamation engineers of the Yakima and Tieton
regions decided that the the large projects were feasible, were cost effective, and would
provide the most benefit to farmers and settlers in the area; as of December 12, 1905, the
Yakima Project was underway (Dick, 1993).
From 1905 to 1957, over 464,000 acres of land came under irrigation with the
completion of the Yakima Reclamation Project; a total of six divisions were completed in
that time frame, including the Sunnyside division, the Tieton division, the Kittitas
division, the Roza division, the Storage division and the Kennewick division (Dick,
1993). With the completion of the Sunnyside division in 1907 over 103,600 acres of land
became irrigable and seven irrigation districts (Grandview, Outlook, Prosser, Snipes
Mountain, Benton and Sunnyside Valley) were all granted access to water. The Tieton
division, completed in 1910, granted 27,271 acres of irrigable land in two districts (the
Canyon and Valley units) from the Tieton River in the Tieton Canyon (Dick, 1993).
The creation of the Storage Division, an extensive system of lakes and reservoirs
that collected floodwaters during the spring and fall (when rainfall was highest) and
prevented the excess withdrawal of water during the drier summers. Six storage
reservoirs were created beginning that the Yakima headwaters fed from the Cascades to
the west. With a total of 1,070,700 acre-feet of water these reservoirs include: Bumping
Lake Reservoir, Lake Kachess, Lake Keechelus, Clear Creek Reservoir, Rimrock Lake
and Lake Cle Ellum (Dick, 1993). With the diversion of the Yakima River with the
Easton diversion dam, and the completion of the main canal in 1931, the Kittitas division

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at the base of the Cascades range brought irrigation to 59,582 acres. By 1939, the Roza
division diverted water from the Yakima River into the northern section of the Yakima
River Valley and supplied 72,511 acres of land with water (Dick, 1993).
As a result of the creation of an intricate and extensive irrigation system, crop
profitability grew exponentially over the course of half a century. As of 1914, there were
2,200 farms and 9,100 farmers that used water from the Reclamation projects; these
farmers began growing orchard fruit, hay, alfalfa and potatoes, and their crop values
reached $3,331,355, with $1,855,650 from apples alone. By 1976, once all major
Reclamation projects were completed, the gross annual value of crops in the Yakima
Project area totaled $239,923,746, with more than half in tree fruit (Dick, 1993). It is
evident that the goal of agricultural development was realized by the middle of the 20th
century, since crop profitability skyrocketed as a result of converting the desert
environment to a lush, irrigated landscape.

Contemporary Yakima
As of the USDA’s 2012 census of agriculture, 1,780,498 acres are under
cultivation in Yakima County. The market value of crops sold reached $1,645,510,000
with a 37% increase from 2007, and the top five crops are: apples, forage land, corn for
silage, grapes, and wheat for grain. According to the USDA 2012 Census, slightly more
than half (52%) of operators farm as their primary occupation. In addition, the majority
of operators (79.2%) were white; the second largest group was of Spanish, Hispanic or of
Latino origin (17.4%); less than 0.02 percent is of Native American descent.
Over the course of 200 years, the complete social, cultural, and ecological
landscape of the Yakima Valley has changed drastically. What was once a desert

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landscape covered in sagebrush and bunchgrass, inhabited by tribes that subsisted on the
abundant natural resources in a semi-nomadic lifestyle now resembles most of rural
America. With massive areas of land segments delineated by fences and hedgerows, fruit
trees, hop vines, and vast swaths of pasture cover the landscape today. With
contemporary modernization, the once-small cities are now encroaching on the
established farmland, increasing the cost of land and decreasing the amount of farmable
land available. This shows that humans play a pivotal role in landscape change; the
responsibility of maintaining ecological and environmental sustainability therefore
belongs to those responsible for land, and subsequently soil management into the future.

Chapter 3: Methods
In order to have a fully informed understanding of the soil health knowledge of
the participants in the study, I collected both quantitative and qualitative data. Semistructured interviews were held first, and farmers were then asked to identify a field of
high fertility and a field of low fertility on their land. I used GIS to randomly generate 10
samples: five from the high fertility site and five from the low fertility site. I extracted 10
soil samples per farmer using two different soil cores: with a mass of approximately 107
cm3 and one with a mass of 105 cm3. I air-dried the samples in a lab-grade oven until the
samples stopped losing weight. Once the samples dried completely, I ran them through a
2mm sieve to remove large debris, organic matter, and rocks. I weighed the items over
2mm in size, noted their make-up, and stored the dry soil samples for later use. I then
used a mortar and pestle to homogenize my samples to and measured total carbon and
total nitrogen using a Perkin Elmer 2400 CHN analyzer. Through descriptive analysis
and a multiple linear regression categorical analysis, I analyzed both interview and soil

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sampling results. Combining interviews with on-site soil sampling allowed me to have a
more comprehensive understanding of the farmers and land managers’ soil health
knowledge.

Interviews
Sampling method
I conducted a basic google search of “farmers in Yakima county”, with a few
iterations on the search terms used. The search yielded 45 results: 38 listings included
both an address and a phone number, and seven others listed only an address. All 45
searched farms with a listed address received a postcard in the mail explaining the nature
of the project, describing the person conducting the study, and describing the timeframe
in which the study would be carried out. I called the farmers and farming operations
without an address, or that were sought later in the study, and provided the same
information listed on the postcard. Of the 45 farmers with a listed address, only one
farmer responded to the postcard directly. A total of 8 farmers or land managers chose to
participate in the study based on this outreach method. Potential bias could occur using
this method because I limited my sample size to farmers with a phone number and/or an
address listed on-line. I mitigated this potential bias through the snowball sampling
method.
The snowball sampling method (Goodman, 1961) was employed to recruit
participants for this study. I asked most participants during the interview process to
recommend other farmers or land managers to participate; of the twelve participants, only
two recommended other individuals and provided contact information for those

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individuals. One individual provided contact information for at least 12 additional
farmers or land managers. This farmer invited me to the farm café in the town of Harrah,
Washington, where many local farmers, distributors and equipment dealers commune on
a daily basis. Of these 12 participant recommendations, at least 5 were introduced via the
farm café; of the 5, however, only 3 participated; in total, I amassed 7 participants using
the snowball sampling method.
Potential bias surfaced within this sampling method; this is due to the fact that one
participant recommended almost half of my sample size. These individuals have all
known each other for decades, and many of their families have been closely related for
generations. It is possible that because of their close familial and social association, they
possess similar values and farming philosophies. In order to investigate the potential bias
present within on-farm research studies, Luschei et al. (2009), compared the survey
results of 187 randomly-selected farmers with 18 farmers recommended by local farm
extension workers. Based on their results, 80% of the questions concerning weed control
behaviors and attitudes between the two groups were indistinguishable. This study
substantiates the usefulness of convenience sampling within on-farm research (Luschei et
al., 2009).

Interview method
In total, I completed 15 semi-structured interviews with 9 additional follow-up
field interviews in Yakima County. According to Huntington (1997), the semi-structured
interview is typical for collecting both traditional and ecological knowledge. Through the
semi-structured interview process, I was able to ask the same questions of all 15
participants but allowed the conversation to flow naturally. These interviews were held

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in-person (at the farm office, in conference rooms, in the farmers’ trucks), and rarely over
the phone. I recorded these interviews with an audio-recorder or my phone and took notes
simultaneously.
Over 2/3 of the semi-structured interviews continued to the field. Using the same
recording methods, we drove around to different sites, and discussed management
practices en situ. Many farmers showed me their management equipment and their
processing facilities to provide a greater representation of the extent of their farming
knowledge. Conversations were more informal in this context, and farmers were able to
express their soil health knowledge explicitly. Using both semi-structured and field
interviews helped build rapport with the farmers and land managers, giving way to a
more thorough interview process (Knapp & Fernandez-Gimenez, 2009).

Questions
Questions in the semi-structured interviews were categorized to address various
aspects of soil health knowledge possessed by farmers and land managers (see Table 2)23.

Number

Category

2
3

What is your name, age, birthplace and
occupation?
How did you get into farming?
What is your farming history?

4

What is the geological history of the area?

History

5

What formal education have you completed?

Education

6

If you completed post-secondary education,
what degree did you acquire?

Education

1

23

Question

Demographic
History
History

For a more in-depth discussion of the reasoning behind question selection, please see the Literature
Review.

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What is your definition of an agricultural
Community
community?
Are you closely linked with other farmers or
8
Community
land managers? How?
9
What does soil health mean to you?
Farming Identity
Can you describe your farming practices
10
Farming Philosophy
over a given period of time?
11
What practices improve soil quality?
Farming Philosophy
12
What practices degrade soil quality?
Farming Philosophy
What do you look for on your land to
13
Farming Philosophy
determine the quality of your soil?
What risks are involved with improving the
14
Risk Aversion
soil?
What risks are involved with degrading the
15
Risk Aversion
soil?
If money, labor or other factors were not an
16
objective, how would you manage your
Risk Aversion
land?
Table 2: Questions and categories for semi-structured interviews
7

Once all interviews were recorded and transcribed, I transferred all responses into an
excel spreadsheet and coded them into 45 different categories; in so doing, I was able to
find similarities, patterns and trends amongst the participants.

Soil fertility analysis
The second part of my thesis involved the quantitative analysis of 150 soil
samples collected between November 2017 and March 2018. As part of the interview
process, participants were asked to identify two fields, one they considered to be highly
fertile and the other having low fertility. The question was left open-ended, allowing the
farmers and land managers to interpret ‘soil fertility’ on their own; however, if the
participant was unsure of how to define fertility, I indicated high or low organic matter
content. Of the fifteen farmers interviewed, all but three drove me to the specific sites;
the other three gave me verbal directions to the sites’ locations.

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Collecting surveys using GIS
Prior to meeting with the farmers, I assembled a survey on ArcGIS Online that
aided in the spatial analysis of the fields. I used the Survey123 application and collected
data at each vertex of the identified field. The survey indicated the farm name or farmer,
which polygon was being created (high or low fertility), the vertex of the polygon, and
the date of collection. The farmer or land manager usually drove to the high or low
fertility site, and would either drive, or walk with me to different points in the field. At
each vertex, I would stop, enter the survey information, and upload it to ArcGIS online
for later review. Once all points for a specific polygon were created, we would move on
to the next field.
Once I returned to Evergreen, I uploaded all points collected from my trip to
Yakima. Either through ArcGIS Online or by using the ArcMap application, I adjusted
points to create even shapes, and then created a polygon. Within the newly created
polygon, I selected the ‘random point generator’ application within ArcMap. I specified
the constraints, and 5 randomly generated points appeared in each of the polygons. I
saved the survey points, the polygons, and the random points to a new map and published
them to the Collector application on ArcGIS Online. The Collector App allowed me to
use my phone’s GPS to locate the random points within the specified fields. Based on the
GPS device within the iPhone 7, the accuracy of my random point sampling is within 5 to
10 feet.

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Soil sampling
Before collecting soil samples, I noted the temperature and climatic conditions of
the location under observation. Depending on the sampling method used, results of soil
sampling can vary greatly based on specific climatic conditions. In particular, physical
properties, like bulking density, fluctuate with variable rates of rainfall and temperature.
Mora & Lazaro (2014) found bulk density to be lower during summer months, and to
vary greatly with rainfall. Bulk Density measures the weight (mass) of the soil by a
specified volume and provides useful information to determine a soil’s physical
properties (Hossain et al., 2015). In addition, bulk density is strongly correlated with
organic carbon content and is frequently used as a pre-requisite measurement for SOC
(Grigal et al., 1989). According to Sollins and Gregg (2017), increased organic matter
content results in decreased bulk density, due to the increase in volume, but the decrease
in mass; however, not all fractions of organic matter are the same. Light fraction organic
matter with a lower bulk density (<1.7 g/cm3) consists of freshly decaying plant and
animal material, while heavy fraction organic matter (>1.7 g/cm3) has decomposed over a
longer period of time and resembles soil minerals (Song et al., 2012). I collected 150
bulk density samples using two plastic PVC pipe 5 cm in length by 5 cm in diameter for a
total of 107 and 105 g/cm3. Once the general location of the random sample point was
found, I selected a flat spot within the crop row; if a random sample point was to be
collected in-between rows or in an alley, I selected the closest point within the row under
cultivation.
To measure the effects of different types of soil disturbance, like tillage or other
management practices, surface bulk density has proven to be a useful tool (Osunbitan et

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al., 2005). I collected samples in the top 10 cm; as surface depth increases, the light
fractions of soil decreases. Although light fraction SOM makes up a small portion of
total soil organic carbon (SOC), it has high turnover rates and fast mobility, meaning that
it is easily altered by management practices, climate and soil texture (Song et al., 2012).
Due to this high mineralization potential, I believe that nutrients are more readily
available in this portion of the soil; therefore, I chose to measure the light fraction organic
matter for the purposes of my study (Song et al., 2012). In addition, most biological
activity, which includes the mineralization of N and decomposition of C among other
nutrients, into forms that are usable by plants, occurs in this area known as the
Rhizosphere (Lehmann & Kleber, 2015). The high decomposition rates and availability
of light fraction SOM justify my selection of sampling in the top 10 cm of soil.
Because soil is technically anything smaller than 2 mm in size (Brady & Weil,
2010) and high levels of organic matter alter bulk density results (Sollins & Gregg,
2017), I cleared the top 2 to 3 layers of residue. One farm applied compost a month in
advance, but because of the cold temperatures (which inhibited organic matter
mineralization), I was able to remove the visible residue before sampling. By removing
surface residues and compost, I could collect samples from the surface of the A horizon,
which contains mineral particles, humus and organic matter. Once the ground was
cleared of residue, I placed the PVC pipe on a near-flat spot. With a rubber-headed
mallet and a wooden block, I was able to pound the PVC pipe into the soil (Hossain et al.,
2015). Based on soil texture, organic matter content, saturation level, temperature, and
physical structure, some samples were extremely difficult to pound into the soil while
others packed easily (Mora & Lazaro, 2014).

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Similar challenges arose during the extraction process based on the
characteristics listed above. One sample was so densely packed, I needed assistance from
the farmer (the site was also where their cattle frequently roamed, a clear sign of
compaction (Castellano & Valone 2007) to transfer it to a Ziploc bag. The samples were
extracted using a hand trowel. To collect an intact bulk density sample, all soil within the
fixed volume was transferred to the Ziploc bag for measurement. To prevent
incorporating soil not collected using the PVC pipe, I pulled apart peds that were
extracted with the sample and wiped the outside of the sample with a piece of cheese
cloth or a paper towel. I made sure the sample was flush on both sides and removed any
organic material that protruded from the edge of the pipe. The sample was then pushed
into a Ziploc bag labeled with the specific field and random sampling point. In total, I
collected 150 soil samples using the bulk density sampling method described above. In
order to prevent the mineralization of nutrients or organic material, I stored samples at a
temperature between 1.7 and 4.4 degrees C (35 and 40 degrees F) (Moinet et al., 2018).

Oven-drying
Based on the Burt (2009) air-drying soils is standard procedure for most soil
analyses. Drying soils at a temperature between 30 and 35 degrees C (the air-dried
method) is ideal because of the optimum moisture content achieved, the relatively
constant weight maintained, and the low biological activity that occurs during storage.
Storing samples once they are air-dried is also a pre-requisite to carbon and nitrogen
analyses (Burt, 2009). Samples were dried using a lab-grade drying oven. Depending
on the texture, level of saturation, as well as type and degree of vegetative cover of the

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soil sample, the drying time lasted between 3 to 7 days (Amani et al., 2017). All samples
were then returned to their original Ziploc bag for further analysis.
Prior to drying, the samples were weighed twice: first inside of a preweighed Ziploc bag, and then in a pre-weighed ceramic or Pyrex vessel. After drying,
the samples were weighed again. As mentioned earlier, soil is technically any mineral,
humus or organic material smaller than 2mm in size; because of this, samples must be run
through a 2mm sieve to extract all mineral soils. Once the samples were sieved, both the
soil and the larger objects were weighed separately. I noted what objects were larger than
the 2 mm sieve (such as rocks, organic material, insects, crop residue, etc.).
With the weight of the sample before and after air-drying, I calculated bulk
density. To calculate bulk density, the two equations below must be used:
Soil bulk density (g/cm3) = weight of dry soil sample/volume of core
Volume of core = p(3.1416)r2 x h
R = radius of core; h = height of core
Volume of soil cores: 105 cm3 and 107 cm3
The measurements were recorded and the samples were returned to their original storage
containers for further analysis.

Carbon and nitrogen analysis
To better understand the availability of nutrients to plants, farmers and land
managers frequently monitor their carbon to nitrogen (C:N) ratio. Both carbon and
nitrogen are essential elements for plant growth; carbon supplies carbohydrates, lipids,
and other sources of energy, while nitrogen provides proteins and other compounds that
enhance plant growth (Perkin-Elmer, 2010) The more nitrogen that’s available within an

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amendment, the more rapidly it will decompose. For example, poultry manure has a very
high content of nitrogen, an average C:N ratio of 8:1 (Weerayutsil et al. 2016), while
straw has a much higher Carbon content, rendering a C:N ratio of 80:1. The optimum
ratio that soil microbes require to stay alive healthy is 24:1 (NRCS, 2011). Therefore,
amendments should be added in appropriate proportions to meet this requirement. Both
carbon and nitrogen are essential components of SOM and can be added to the soil in
various forms. Because they are so necessary for plant and microbial health, I measured
both elements using and CHN analyzer.
Before CHN analysis, samples were homogenized using a mortar and pestle to
break up any remaining aggregates or organic matter. To further prepare samples for
CHN analysis, they were weighed using the Perkin Elmer scale. Samples were measured
into a small tin vessel at weights ranging from 1.7 to 2.3 mg. The Perkin Elmer 2400
CHN Analyzer measured C and N amounts in each soil sample. Using the Dumas
method of combustion, soil particles are combusted in the presence of oxygen and are
converted into simple molecules like CO2, and N; once these elements are simplified, the
gases are separated using chromatographic methods (PerkinElmer, 2010). The chemical
analysis of C and N were output to database software, which automatically calculates the
percentages of C and N per sample.

Interview and soil data integration
In order to identify what demographic or cultural factors influence a farmers’ soil
health knowledge and whether or not this influences overall soil health, it was necessary
to synthesize my interview results with my soil sample analyses. First, a distribution

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graph compared the values of all three measurement techniques (bulk density, % carbon
and % nitrogen) to test whether or not they were accurate measurements for organic
matter content. Through a paired t-test, comparisons between high fertility and low
fertility sites were conducted to identify significant differences between the three
indicators measured: the mean of BD, %C and %N. Next, basic demographic
characteristics of farmers that ‘accurately’ identified high and low fertility fields based on
the given parameters were analyzed. In addition, comparisons between all three variables
were conducted concerning the type of crop grown in the sampled field.
As a preliminary step, I conducted a Multiple Regression Analysis (MRA). This
method of data analysis was used to find causal relationships between the soil health
indicators measured and the 8 categories of interview responses (demographic, history,
education, community involvement, farming philosophy, farming identity, and risk
aversion). I ran MRA comparing categorical variables with multiple responses (age, crop
type, types of certification, etc.) with continuous variables (Bulk Density, %C and %N)
in order to find preliminary correlations. All six soil sampling variables (High Fertility
and Low Fertility BD, %C and %N) were compared to the 39 coded responses to
interview questions using a binary system for categorical analysis.

0s and 1s indicated

presence or absence of the variable for up for up to 10 different variables per category,
depending on the question.
The fields that yielded significant correlations from the MRA (crop type
(management practice), certifications (farming philosophy), work with private
consultants (management practice), connections (community involvement), and dream
farm description (risk aversion)) were further analyzed using an analysis of variance

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between no more than two variables. For crop type, for example, the crops with the best
indicators of soil health (low BD, High %C and %N) were compared against the other
crop varieties in a two-way t-test. Using a similar method eco-labels like Global GAP,
Salmon Safe and Organic were combined and compared with farms that did not have
such certifications to see if more information could be interpreted from the significant
correlations. Finally, to test my hypothesis, that older farmers born into farming families
that were also well connected to their communities had better soil health knowledge, and
subsequently better soil health, I used ANOVA to compare interview responses with soil
health indicators measured.

Methods summary
Integrating both qualitative and quantitative analyses provides a more in-depth
understanding of the social, cultural and ecological information within a given area.
Through interview analysis, I developed an understanding of the basic demographic,
history, education, farming philosophy and identity, and aversion to risk of the
participants in the study. Using this method, I could better understand what their soil
health knowledge was, and where that knowledge originates. On the other hand,
conducting soil analysis to measure bulk density, percent carbon and percent nitrogen
provides information on the amount of organic matter in the soil and the overall health of
the soil at a depth to 7 cm. By comparing these two results, we can see if any social
factors contribute to an individual’s soil health knowledge, and how well this knowledge
compares to established indicators of soil health. This can provide insight for research
and farmer outreach, illuminating how farmers gather and transmit information, what

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information is well-known, who are the most informed, and what areas require more
exploration and emphasis from public and private institutions.

Chapter 4: Results
The interviews, conducted between April 2017 and February 2018, yielded
interesting results; although many discrepancies were observed concerning farmers’
demographic information, education, community involvement and local historical
understanding, the overall farming philosophies and risk aversion were quite similar. It
has been observed that the tacit knowledge possessed by farmers is not easily
communicable from one actor to another; knowledge is largely transferred through
teaching, experience and in-the-field observation (Hoffman et al., 2007; Jensen et al.,
2007). Therefore, I must clarify that these responses cannot express the entirety of the
participants’ knowledge and understanding of farming, but they are intended to give a
general idea of what information can be transferred in a short semi-structured interview.
The following section summarizes the results found within the seven categories
(Demographic information, Historical Understanding, Education, Community
Involvement, Farming Identity/Philosophy and Risk Aversion). The Demographic
section analyzes how the farmers interviewed compare to USDA Census data for the
Yakima region. Their education and type will be addressed, as well as how farmers
perceive this impacts their soil health knowledge. Participants discuss different trusted
sources of information, from more intimate Communities and Networks of Practice to
larger public and private institutions known as Webs of Influencers (Oreszczyn et al,.
2010). The Conservationist-Productivist dichotomy will be expressed in detail, and the
diversity of farmers responses will indicate that this simple partitioning does not

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accurately represent farmer identities; in addition, farmers understanding of the impacts
of specific management practices on soil health, as well as their knowledge of established
indicators of soil health, will be discussed. Finally, an analysis of farmers’ perceived
risks with management practices will be considered, as well as an explanation of how
fluctuating markets greatly impact farmers management decisions. This section
highlights that farmers view themselves largely as stewards of the land, and that each
farmer, farm system and farm community should be valued as a unique entity operating
within a complex ecosystemic network.

Interview results
Demographic information
Compared to the 2012 US Census data of farmers in the Yakima Valley, the results
are somewhat representative of the total population of Yakima farmers (USDA NASS,
2012). The average age of farmers in the area is 58.7, which is similar to the findings of
my study. 8 were born or raised in the valley, and 7 were born elsewhere (California,
Oregon, Florida, Montana, Mexico and New Zealand). 80% of the respondents were male,
totaling 12 individuals, and 3 participants were female. All but one participant grew up on
a farm of some sort, but variation can be observed in the generations of family farmers. 9
participants discussed farming for at least 3 generations, 4 have farmed for at least 2, and
one participant was the first in her family to farm, and for over ten years. In addition, 3
farmers or land managers interviewed were not principal owners.

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Generations Family Farming
at least 3
generations
at least 2
generations
Over 10 years

Figure 6: Pie chart of participants’ family farming history
For the 3143 principal operators in Yakima, 317 were female (representing 10% of
the population); in my study, 20% of the population were female, which was slightly higher
than the county average. There was very little racial or ethnic diversity within my sample,
with one farmer of Latino descent and one Japanese-American. This was somewhat
representative of the total population, with 0.8% of Asian descent; however, 17.4% of the
total population of farm operators were of Latino or Hispanic descent, compared to less
than 7% in my study. Other ethnicities and races not considered in my study include:
American Indian or Alaska Native (1.7%), Black/African American (0.2%), and Native
Hawaiian/Pacific Islander (0.15%) (USDA NASS, 2012)

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Age, education and experience

Age
30 year-olds
40 year-olds
50 year-olds
60 year-olds
70 yer-olds

Figure 7: Pie chart of participants’ age distribution

Gender
Male
Female

Figure 8: Pie chart of participants gender distribution
As previously discussed, Burton (2014) explains that isolating individual
demographic factors like age, education and experience does not provide useful insight
into what influences farmers’ implementation of agri-environmental or conservation
practices. Instead, the author explains that a complex interplay of factors, in particular,
age, education and experience, provide more information into farmers’ management
decisions. For example, age in relation to education can explain the ‘cohort effect’,
where age serves as a direct representation of experience. In addition, education and
experience are related, since both are bound by social capital within their respective
farmer groups (Burton, 2014). Although this approach is useful and provides a more

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well-rounded understanding of the complex factors that make up a farmer, I have
considered these factors for the most part in isolation.

Education and ways of learning
The educational background of each farmer ranges from the completion of a
master’s degree to less than an elementary school education. 3 participants have
completed, or are in the process of completing, post-graduate degrees; 6 participants have
attained undergraduate degrees. 5 have completed some form of post-secondary school,
and only one participant has no college education.

Education
Post-Graduate
Undergraduate
some college
no college

Figure 9: Pie chart of participants’ type of post-secondary education
Of the 14 participants, less than half (43%) studied an agriculture-related field. The
areas of study include: crop science (2), general agriculture (1), agricultural economy (1),
agricultural engineering (1), sustainable food systems (1) and ranch management (1). The
non-agriculture fields include: business management (2), environmental studies and
geology (1), environmental policy (1), construction (1), hydraulic and mechanical
engineering (1) and Slavic languages (1).
Due to the wide range of educational pursuits, it was necessary to figure out other
ways that the farmers and land managers gained knowledge. One participant believed
leaving the industry for a while was one of the best decisions he made: “Then I decided to

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take business, I thought I’d probably farm, and so, actually getting away from the
agricultural climate… So my education was part of it. But a bigger part was just getting
away from agriculture. And not being in that same rut.” Over half (53%) of farmers
described methods of experimentation and analysis, either by experimenting with new crop
varieties, management practices and techniques, or even creating replicated trials with
controls. A few others also use outside resources like the internet (2) and books (2).
As previously discussed, experience plays a huge role in the knowledge acquisition
of farmers. All of the 15 participants described some form of trial-and-error used in their
farming practices.
“I learned more just from the experience than what I did in college”; at least two participants
shared this perspective. Within this experience-based knowledge, 1 farmer explained that
his observation of natural systems highly influenced his farming mentality, while another
explained that his experience in the university setting formed the basis of how he farmed.
“…you know us guys that have been doing it for years and years, we just automatically do
our thing”
It is of value to consider the role that ‘intuition’, ‘instinct’ and ‘feeling’ play in
farmers’ day-to-day actions. As previously discussed, ‘intuition’ is the automatic response
to a series of events based on previous experience with similar situations (Burton, 2014;
Nuthall & Old, 2018). At least three farmers specifically described the important role that
‘feelings’ and ‘instinct’ play in their farming practices. “… if you’ve farmed and watched
the soil and watched your plants and learned about them, it’s kinda like I can do all the
analysis and do all the book work and all the extension stuff, but I can nail it quicker with
my gut, and actually come out better. It’s part of growing things.”
Spirituality, and the role of God within agriculture and soil health was also
discussed explicitly by 4 participants. One farmer explained that soil degradation was a
sin, and that farmers are nothing more than stewards of the lord’s earth, and her goal is to

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leave it in better shape than she found it. One agronomist for a hop grower defined soil
health and its relationship to God: “To me, it’s a very complex biological system and I
think it was designed by God… And soil health would be if it was operating how God had
it in mind.” In addition, one farmer explained that his Buddhist upbringing plays a major
role in his decision to farm organically.
Another commonly-discussed method for gaining knowledge was to speak to
knowledgeable members of the community, specifically within certain crop producer
groups. Less than half (43%) explained that much of their knowledge came from their
fathers, grandfathers, and other knowledgeable farmers. “My father is still very involved,
and so you know, just learning a lot through him. As many giants and other people I can
glean information from” (JS). This quote suggests that many farmers gain information
from more family members or other older, experienced farmers in the area. This belief
agrees with Iniesta-Arandia et al. (2014), who found that the knowledge acquisition of local
ecosystems within farmer groups is greatly influenced by the family in which they were
raised. “…things my dad did, my grandfather did, but also I watch my neighbors… because
different people do a lot of different things. Because they’re not growing the same crops,
they’re still farmers” (LI). This farmer expresses different ways of gathering experience
and knowledge, and also suggests that farmers work with each other, as family members,
neighbors, or members within a community, to create and disseminate information. The
role of trust within farmer groups will be discussed in the next section.

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Sense of place and connection to the land

Place of Origin
Yakima Valley
Oregon
Florida
Montana
New Zealand

Figure 10: Pie chart of participants’ place of origin
As expressed by Mullendore et al. (2015) Sense of Place theory is an expression of
an individual’s dependence on their land, and how this existentially-based relationship
informs an individual’s sense of identity. In order to address this point, I asked farmers to
identify their place of origin; in addition, I asked farmers to explain the geological or social
history of the area as a way for them to express their connection with the history of the land
itself. Over half of the participants were born or raised in the Yakima Valley; one third of
the sample size inhabited the area for at least three generations, with many farming families
dating back to the turn of the 20th century. “We’ve been farming this particular piece since
1935 when my dad bought it from his father. So, it’s been in the family for close to 100
years. I’m not sure the exact date my grandfather purchased it, but. I think our family
came to this area in about the mid-1880s.”
Almost all of the farmers born into farming families in the Yakima Valley
expressed extreme interest in the geological history of the area. While others not born in
the valley were also knowledgeable of the area’s geological history, it is possible that their
deep connection to the land (as expressed by the Sense of Place theory) combined with an

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interest in the geological formation taking place over millions of years throughout Yakim,a
may have encouraged their interest. One farmer studied geology in college and was able to
inform me of the actual geological processes the created the soils of the area. “For our
specific area of the hill where we farm, it’s actually really cool because it used to be flat.
[There was] a river that went through it and there was North-South compression, and so,
actually, on top of Snipes Mountain, you can see all the river gravels, you can see which
direction the river was flowing.” In addition to the geological processes responsible for the
formation of the soils of the area, many farmers described in detail the social processes that
influenced the agricultural development of the Yakima Valley.

Social history
Some farmers, particularly those whose families have farmed in the area for at least three
generations, described the social history of the area. One farmer explained that his family
was helped establish the hop and apple marketing orders in the area. Another farmer, a
Japanese-American, described in detail the immigration of his grandparents to the region,
and how they contributed to the agricultural development of the area.
“…[A]nd so my grandfather was recruited to come from Taiwan because he had a degree
from the imperial agriculture college… The ag department recruited him to come here and
teach Japanese immigrants on the [Yakama] reservation to farm, and he came in [19]07. And
I think the Japanese immigrants are credited with breaking over 20,000 acres of ground of
sagebrush on this reservation. So, this area is called ‘the bench’. ..This irrigation canal that
goes behind us is the ‘Wilbur Ditch’; was dug by Dave Wilbur, or his father I can’t remember.
He’s a tribal member, but he was my grandfather’s neighbor… So my grandfather came to
the bench. And this was like the best dirt on the [reservation], because its on the bench, while
everything down [the slope] is full of rocks… the term [my grandmother] used was ‘Yama
no Tegumi’. ‘Gumi’ means people, Yama is hill: ‘The people on the hill’. And so, I think
they probably bragged that they were the big farmers. The guys down on the lower hill areas
typically had smaller farms.”
Within the socio-cultural description of Yakima’s history, this farmer explains his
ancestors’ understanding of the soil quality in the area. Another third generation Yakima
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farmer described the process of “nob-knocking”, where farmers cleared remnants of
geological history to improve the agricultural capacity of the land. “…when the farms
were made, there may have been a little ‘nob-knocking to even the general slope. And as
you take the original topsoil and move it to another spot, what happens to that spot with no
topsoil? You probably have less organic matter. And it takes years and years to recover
from that.” These interesting historical accounts of the influences of human settlement
helps inform the farmer and other interested parties of the soil types, textures, and quality
of the region.

Trusted networks: From communities and networks of practice to webs of
influencers
As previously discussed, farmers depend on a variety informational sources
regarding new and existing farming practices. Expanding from more intimate communities
of practice, more loosely-connected networks of practice and somewhat restricted webs of
influencers, farmers rely heavily on the communities and influencers that they work with
regularly (Oreszczyn et al., 2010). According to one study, farmers more closely resemble
Networks of Practice due to their wide distribution of multiple smaller stakeholder. The
authors also suggest that few farmers rely on members of their communities of practice for
knowledge acquisition, even if they are tightly bound (Oreszczyn et al. 2010). Of all
farmer networks, the Webs of Influencers, specifically trusted individuals within larger
private and public institutions, hold the most sway over the implementation of new
technologies and practices (Oreszczyn et al. 2010).
The following section considers how different group interactions described
previously influence the practices and motivations of participants within my study. I will

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first explain how farmers defined their agricultural communities, and how connected they
felt to others within their social groups. The different networks of practice and webs of
influencers will be described next, and I will explain how my results compare to other
studies.

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Communities of practice
Agricultural Community
Definition

Close, but keep distance

Comradery/peers

Help one another

Hard to reach out

Disappearing

Figure 11: Pie chart of participants’ definition of an agricultural community

Communities of Practice

Farm Café & Neighbors
Feel Disconnected

"Over the Fence"

Figure 12: Pie chart of how participants’ connect with each other
Differing perspectives arose within the participants’ involvement and understanding
of agricultural communities. The majority (2/3) of the farmers and land managers
explained that they relied on other farmers and neighbors and described a sense of
comradery within agricultural communities. As elucidated by one farmer, “…we tend to

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view ourselves not as competitors but on equal footing. Usually we’re quite open about
sharing information… It’s really pleasant to have coffee with fellow growers and become
friends over time.” Two farmers explained that farmers keep close connections with their
neighbors but recommend maintaining a maintaining an individual identity. “It’s vitally
important, but you can’t let it dictate you. You have to think outside the box. The biggest
asset of the agricultural community is also the biggest problem. So, if you just start doing,
just copying what everyone else is doing…that’s the problem.”
Four farmers provided examples of how they receive help and support from others
in their agricultural communities. “[In Harrah], really old farms… you’re 70 to 100-yearold farms out here. And a lot of its because we take care of each other. I’m not over it.
My neighbors sabotaging the operation and I’m helping him. You know, if you need
equipment, you just come over and borrow my equipment. I’m not renting it to you.” The
specific examples described involved of droughts and fires, and the support that they
received during hard times. “When our barn burned down, we had all of our neighbors
bring us hay to feed our cattle. We had our church give us a $5 thousand-dollar donation.
It’s the mentality of your neighbors and friends that all pull together to help you in times of
need”.
Not everybody has developed strong connections, though. At least two farmers felt
a lack of meaningful relationships, either due to their far proximity to other farmers, or
their short time living in the area. As clarified by one farmer, “there’s farmers that just
know everybody. It’s just like people. Some people are just outgoing, some people are
more introverted.” (JS). This information supports Hatch (1992) who suggests that the

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less frequently farmers interact with other farmers, the less likely they are to achieve social
capital; they therefore are not considered to be ‘good farmers’.
In addition, at least three farmers explained that the agricultural community model
is falling to the way-side, in favor of bigger and fewer farms. “…fewer and fewer people
are going to be working on farms, and fewer and fewer people are going to be living in
rural areas.” (AS). As expressed in Graph 1 the number of family farms have decreased
drastically over the past 75 years, while the size of the farms has increased significantly.
Interestingly, the amount of land under cultivation has stayed the same.

Figure 13: Graph depicting how farms, farmland and average farm size have changed
over the past 150 years
(Dmitri et al., 2005)
In regard to communities of practice. Six farmers described regular attendance at
some local gathering place like a farm café. Of these 6 farmers, 5 of these individuals have
attended the same farm café for decades on a daily basis. There are some (1/3) that rely on

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direct relationships with their neighbors, or “over the fence” interactions as some put it.
Even so, at least 5 explained that they lacked meaningful relationship, either with neighbors
or growers of the same crop, and wished they had more connections.
According to Hatch (1992) social standing and involvement within agricultural
communities influences how farmers are perceived by members of their community as
‘Good Farmers’. If farmers are within close proximity to each other, they observe and
compare their land quality and practices to each other. Over half compared their land and
practices to their neighbors. They described prominent people in the community, what has
and hasn’t worked for their neighbors, and the status of their ground. When describing
different tillage practices, one farmer compares his methods with his neighbors: “Now Lon
plows ‘em and he has a reason for it. He’s raising vegetables and he doesn’t want any trash
(residue) on top, so they way to get rid of it is to plow it under. With our mint root, it
thrives with loose soil right on top with organic matter. And this helps to hold moisture so.
Neither way is wrong, it’s just not the best practice for some purpose.”

Networks of practice and webs of influencers
My next step in identifying areas of knowledge transmission and collection
concerns the webs of influencers, or the various organizations, governmental, university
and private resources utilized by the farmers and land managers within this study
(Oreszczyn et al., 2010). All 15 farmers described some sort of assistance or connection
with an outside organization: 1/3 are members of marketing orders, at least 4 attend cropspecific conferences, 2/3 use university extension and outreach and 1/3 work with NRCS.
Other groups include Tilth Producers of Washington, a non-profit based out of Seattle that
creates connections between organic producers throughout the state, and the South Yakima

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Conservation District, which connects growers with private, governmental and university
specialists on natural resource conservation in the Yakima Valley. In addition, at least 6
farmers described relationships with local chemical companies or private agricultural
consulting firms as a point of reference for soil health management.
Networks of practice are more loosely-bound groups or organizations that connect a
variety of stakeholders with similar interests or live within a given region (Oreszczyn et al.,
2010). The networks of practice described by participants were: marketing orders,
conservation districts, crop or management-specific conferences and trade shows, or other
organizations. According to the USDA, marketing orders connect producers within fruit,
vegetable and specialty crops so they may “leverage their own funds to design and execute
programs that they would not be able to do as individuals” (USDA, 2018). While some
studies have found that marketing orders have not stabilized crop prices, others suggest that
specialized crops may show some economic benefit from their participation in marketing
orders (Jesse & Johnson, 1981; Williams et al., 2008). As discussed in the social history
section of this paper, apple and hop marketing orders played a major role in the
development of agriculture in the Yakima area. Some of the farmers and farms represented
in this study founded these marketing orders, like Hop Growers of America, Sage
Marketing, Olympic Fruit Company, and Bluebird, Inc.
Crop-specific and agricultural trade shows were also mentioned as places of
learning for some growers. For those in the valley that grow specialty crops, or are not in
close proximity to other farmers, these events offer means to meet with producers that may
face the same issues. Valuable insight can be gained that may not always be easy to figure
out by oneself. One farmer, who attends the annual Washington Association of Wine

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Grape Growers annual meeting says that: “there’s always researchers giving presentations,
and some of them are pretty good. I really latch on to farmers that are really doing stuff
practically. This is what we’re doing and its working”.
Oreszczyn et al. (2010) identified Webs of Influencers as the most influential source
of information on farmer practices. Interestingly, Stuart et al. (2018) found that farmers
valued fertilizer recommendations from private sector chemical companies or agricultural
consultants over public-sector recommendations; in addition, these same farmers expressed
more trust in individuals as opposed to specific public or private operations themselves.
Luloff et al. (2012) found that farmers were more likely to implement new technology, like
conservation tillage, if a trusted tractor supplier, like John Deere, offered implements that
farmers could use.
Although at least 10 farmers described connections with local extension, the
majority interact with them on a limited basis. 4 farmers work with them strictly through
on-farm experimentation and analysis. For instance, one hop grower is currently working
with OSU to identify the relationship between mildew and the application of nitrogen
fertilizers. Additionally, the Mint Industry Research Council works with WSU to conduct
experiments on optimal growth in conjunction with chemical use, pesticides, herbicides and
efficient harvesting processes. Some of the participants believe that University and
Extension isn’t fit for their operation. “I think that’s more for smaller farms or guys that
got a couple acres or people that move to this area and don’t know anything about it”.
These findings are supported by Luloff et al. (2012), who found that many farmers consider
university and extension to be unreliable sources of information due to conflicting
regulations, inconsistent agendas, insufficient technical assistance and lack of funding.

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On the other hand, at least three farmers cited close relationships with university
extension offices; one farmer is closely connected with university and extension specialists
because his agricultural experience largely originates in the university setting. “I am very
tightly linked with university specialists. And I do that because I know the system… I’m in
contact with the people at WSU and OSU, but in the past, I’ve used extension a lot and I
used any written publications that they have as a starter place”. As suggested by Luloff et
al. (2018), these individuals may have close and trusted relationships with specific
individuals within the public sector or may have worked within these organizations
previously and have an insider’s understanding of how they work.
The United States Department of Agriculture’s (USDA) Natural Resource
Conservation Service (NRCS) works to “help people help the land” (NRCS). Interestingly,
less than half of the participants worked with NRCS at all; and more than half of these
individuals that work with NRCS do so on a limited basis. 4 of the farmers and land
managers I spoke to used funding from the NRCS Environmental Quality Incentives
Program which provides funding to farmers who implement voluntary conservation
practices (NRCS). ¾ of the farmers utilizing EQIP funds developed a drip irrigation
system, while the other participants used the money to install hoop houses. Other
incentives provided to farmers include the implementation of cover crops, improving forest
stands, and prescribed grazing for livestock operations (NRCS).
Curiously, some studies found that farmers are considered to be suspicious of
government involvement in their operations (Oreszczyn et al., 2010; Greiner & Gregg,
2011). While the question of trust in governmental programs was not specifically
addressed in the format of the interview, one participant believed that other farmers were

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apprehensive to working with government officials because they were unfamiliar with how
the system worked. Although more than half of the farmers had no or limited work with
government agencies, this does not suggest that all farmers lack trust in governmental
intervention because of a lack of understanding of how the system works. Similarly to
Hijbeek et al. (2018) and Greiner & Gregg (2011), I would suggest that these farmers feel
that current policy doesn’t satisfy their needs and that their needs are not well-understood
by policymakers.
Over half of the individuals cited issues with labor, and how increased minimum
wages hurt their bottom line. One farmer discussed in great detail current legislative
appeals and that because they were not created by farmers, they could not effectively serve
farmers.
“I think that there are pending things like that, I’m sure you’ve heard of the regulation that
was in the senate last week, two weeks ago. And they wanted us farmers to provide 4 days
notification before we spray. That’s impossible, if there’s a rain event, we need to go now.
We can’t go, ‘oh four days from now there will be a rain event… there’s some things we
have to do right when they happen and that are weather dependent. You don’t know four
days ahead of time if there’s going to be a wind. It did not pass, it was shot down. So that
kind of stuff is ridiculous, and if they want to buy food out of the US, that’s what they’re
going to do because we can’t farm that way. Nobody can” (CD).
This quote suggests a disconnect or lack of understanding of farmers’ needs by
policymakers.
Other groups that farmers work with are private companies, like chemical distributors and
agricultural advisors. Although almost half did not describe such relationships, at least
40% spoke in detail about their connections with fertilizer and pesticide distributors, while
4 people discussed having assistance and advising from private local consulting firms. Of
the 6 that described relationships with chemical companies, two use a local dealer like

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Husch & Husch, a fertilizer company out of Harrah that was founded in 1935, while the
other 4 work with large national corporations like GS Long, Wilbur-Ellis and Simplot.
The services utilized by the participants from these companies varied, as well. 3 of
the farmers have soil samples analyzed and receive fertilizer, pesticide and herbicide input
recommendations. On the other hand, some farmers may purchase chemicals from larger
distributors, but would not take input recommendations from them directly. “…we work
with chemical companies, to a point. We would work with them to say what pesticide vs.
another and as far as compliance things and regulation. But as far as what to apply, when
to apply it, we don’t usually… I don’t get any commission based on the amount of
chemicals we apply”. Another farmer explained that even with organic inputs, the game is
still the same. “My point is that I learned that people that are in the industry that are
promoting the chemical use or whatever, it doesn’t matter if its organic or conventional,
they’re promoting products and that’s what they sell, and that becomes the norm and the
industry standard, and that’s not correct”.
While some farmers expressed trust in their chemical representatives, others chose
not to trust fertilizer recommendations coming from these sources, with an understanding
that chemical dealers are salespeople that must make a profit themselves. Luloff et al.
(2012) and Stuart et al. (2018) suggest that farmers trust specific individuals in chemical
companies that they’ve worked with over a long time and on a regular basis. Many of the
farmers articulated a similar sense of enduring trust with these individuals, especially with
the local fertilizer company Husch & Husch. Many farmers who live in the farm town of
Harrah grew up with the individuals that represent Husch & Husch and trust their
recommendations. “My grandfather’s buddy, Pete Husch, was one of the first guys to get

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into the fertilizer business. And my grandfather used to go with Pete Husch to Mukilteo
and work in the lumber mills in the winter. And they were buddies, they went to the
Yakima river and fished”. Results from these interviews support the belief that farmers
may have some trust in larger institutions but develop a more particularized trust with
specific individuals.
In summary, the farmers interviewed connect with other groups through the
Communities of Practice, Networks of Practice and Webs of Influencers described by
Oreszczyn et al. (2010). While many farmers described intimate interactions within their
Communities of Practice, some felt disconnected with other farmer due to a number of
reasons; this can be explained by the value of social capital, and one’s frequency of
interaction and proximity to given agricultural communities. Many farmers also participate
in Networks of Practice but receive much of their information from the larger Webs of
Influencers (Oreszczyn et al. 2010, Luloff et al. 2012, Stuart et al. 2018). While farmers
worked with both public and private institutions to gather information concerning soil
health and land management, trust in both types of the over-arching institutions themselves
was limited; many expressed trust in specific individuals, confirming the findings of both
Luloff et al. (2012) and Stuart et al. (2018). While social capital has been discussed, the
next section analyzes how farmers form specific identities, and how these identities inform
their farming philosophy.

Farmer identity & farming philosophy
Farmers’ identity informs their soil health knowledge and impacts their farming
philosophy and subsequent management practices (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). The
results from this study show that all farmers view themselves as stewards of the land and

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express this ethic through different farming practices. Because every farmer, farm system
and farm community is unique, there is no prescriptive on-size-fits-all formula to
sustainable land stewardship. Three issues illustrate this complexity: 1) the presence of
weeds, 2) the amount of trash (crop residue) left on the fields, and 3) perceptions on
organic agricultural and the implementation of these practices. Farmers’ identity influences
their definitions of soil health, including physical, chemical and biological processes. I will
then consider what crops farmers choose to grow, how they perceive and execute specific
sustainable management practices, and will provide insight into how the implementation of
these practices as informed by their farming philosophy.

Weeds: Beneficial or a nuisance?
Weed pressures are a common stress for any farmer. My results show that farming
identity informs management philosophy and can be represented in how farmers perceive
and treat weeds on their land. According to Burton (2014), education, age, and cohort
effects can influence one’s impressions of weeds. According to the author, some studies
have shown that older farmers view weeds as a nuisance and believe that clean fields are in
keeping with good agriculture. On the other hand, younger farmers with higher education
have been found to implement more conservation-minded practices and recognize the
benefits that weeds and crop residue can have for their soil (Burton 2014). Some would
argue that this point represents the Productivist/Conservationist ideologies (Carolan 2005).
In my study, farmers expressed different perspectives on the value of weeds depending on
the needs of their operation.
Two participants clearly defined weeds as unwanted plants; however, one of them is
a staunch believer in organic agriculture, while the other has a more nutrient-focused

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perspective; the organic farmer is younger than the nutrient-focused farmer and has a
master’s degree in environmental science and policy. The first farmer currently grows
alfalfa and hay for organic dairies and has been informed by the dairies that purchase her
hay: “I want the salad bar. That’s what makes my cows happy”. As a certified organic
producer, she frequently compares her perspective to ‘conventional’ growers and believes
that conventional dairies, on the other hand, prefer a monoculture, not a biodiverse platter.
The second farmer grows mint, which requires additional processing and distillation
to extract the essential oil; therefore, any trace amounts of weeds is undesirable, and may
result in a lost profit. “Now you notice you don’t see any weeds in our field. Weeds also
have an oil in them. Different weeds have them, some have an oil some don’t. But usually,
they’ll impart a flavor to the oil that you don’t want. So, we try to keep our fields clean”.
Although the two farmers have the same basic definition of weeds, one’s customers prefers
their presence while the other will lose profit if there are weeds in his crop. Burton’s
(2014) findings concerning age and education as indicators of can be supported by these
findings; however, this one factor does not justify the ideological divide between
Conservationists and Productivists, since extrinsic factors like purchaser and market
preferences also influence this perspective and initiatives to deal with weeds.
Another farmer uses the presence of weeds to indicate poor quality soil. As another
mint grower, his profits also depend on having as few weeds as possible. While this farmer
must also combat weeds with the heavy use of herbicides to turn a profit, his use of weeds
as an indicator of poor soil health is supported by other farmers who view weeds as
beneficial to soil health. One farmer explains that the presence of weeds is fundamental to
nutrient cycling in the soil and believe that they do improve soil health.

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“… when you have bare ground, nature wants to fill it with something. So its weeds or its
what the farmer doesn’t want… Now we’ve been trained to think in agriculture, farmers that
weeds are bad and they’re stealing your water and your nutrients. And they are taking
nutrients and water, but I think they can be managed. And I think that we’ve got excess
nutrients and water than we can allow the weeds to use, and I see them as a nutrient cycling
aspect of the system. So they’re capturing nutrients and if we then mow it or at some point
till it back into the ground, we are facilitating that nutrient cycling…”
Essentially, weeds are able to take up nutrients and water from the soil, but if weeds are reincorporated, nutrients can be made more available for crops in the future. Instead of
planting cover crops in-between his rows, another farmer allows weeds to propagate in his
alley ways. Similar to the practices previously explained, he describes some weeds as
‘diggers’ that pull nutrients from lower soil horizons and brings them up to be used by the
plants under cultivation. Regardless, some weeds are still undesirable plants in certain
crops, and farmers must take the steps necessary to prevent them from showing up in their
fields.
Although some of the farmers preferred clean fields, four explained that
biodiversity in the fields was essential for soil and plant health. In addition, two agreed that
monocultures are clean and easy but are not how nature intended it. “I think its complex
and there’s lots of things growing basically in community or harmony… I think plants are
designed to live in community. And when we do monocultures, its convenient and its how
we’ve learned how to do it, and it looks clean, but I don’ really think its how God designed
it”. Two farmers, both under the age of 50, believe the monoculture mentality is a relic of
the past, and is on its way out of farming trends. This suggests that Burton (2014)’s
findings indicating younger farmers as being more environmentally-conscious is in
agreement with their perspectives.

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All eight of the orchard, grape and blueberry growers maintained clean rows, but
allowed cover crops or weeds to grow in the alleys. One pear grower explains that clean
rows alleviate pest and water problems. She explains that mowing or tilling in between
rows, though, will encourage pests to move up the tree. “As soon as you mow down, where
are the bugs going to go? Up in the tree. So, you give the bugs a little space to live, and
then no problem.” Two of these farmers discuss the damaging effects of herbicide use and
opt for machine and hand cultivation or weed cloth to prevent the presence of weeds in
their rows. “…A lot of our vineyards, we don’t use any herbicide on them. We choose to
mechanically cultivate rather than use roundup and some other things just because we
believe it’s harder on the biology of the soil and other impacts.”.
Participants in this study have differing perceptions of weeds in relation to their
crops. While most would agree that they can serve as indicators of soil health, the farmers
in this study manage them differently based on the type of crops grown; some believe that
their presence is beneficial while others must use heavy herbicides to eliminate as many
weeds as possible. While some of Burton’s (2014) findings were supported by responses in
the study, the farmers perspectives concerning weeds could not be simplified to basic
ideological discrepancies. Other constraints, particularly with maintaining crop health and
quality influenced how farmers treated their weeds.

Organic practices
The differences between organic and conventional agriculture are possibly most
pronounced by the presence of weeds. Three farmers explain that the easiest way to
discern a conventional field and an organic field are the number of weeds you can find.
“So, you can look at an organic field and you can say, ‘hmm… there’s weeds down the

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hill’. If you look at a conventional field, there’s no weeds.” Due to USDA Organic
regulations, synthetic-based herbicides are not allowed in organic agriculture (NOP, 2016);
therefore, most farmers cultivate (pull weeds) mechanically or by hand. “…we just pull a
lot of weeds by hand. That’s why organic is so expensive (so labor intensive) it just kills
us”. Many organic farmers cite labor as an issue; because synthetic herbicides are not
allowed, labor is typically their largest expense (Sustainable Clark, 2016)
One farmer explained that organic farming is more challenging since pesticides or
herbicides are prohibited. “And with organic agriculture, we’re so much more proactive
than with conventional. You can make an orchard look like a park. And you can mow and
spray and mow and spray. But in organic, no. It’s the same as conventional, and it’s a
totally different paradigm. When people ask me, should we become an organic farmer? If
yes, then, what kind of, what do you want to do? Do you want to think through all of these
processes, right?”. Of the 15 farmers interviewed, 8 have at least some certified organic
land. Another interesting finding is that all three of the female farmers interviewed are
currently certified organic or have been certified in the past. This supports the conclusions
of Sachs et al. (2016) who suggest that female farmers are more likely to become certified
organic than their male counterparts.
Interestingly, most of these farmers with certified organic land described at least
some amount of dissatisfaction with the rules and regulations. Although one farmer was
generally in agreement with the NOP standards, he believed they valued education over
experience: “…and I struggle with the organic people because they only trust degrees, and
I’d be broke if I totally followed that”. Two hop growers believed that organic certification
has taken more of a political edge and isn’t always in the farmer’s favor.

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“As a consumer, I love it. As a farmer, I don’t really like it. And partly it’s because it
becomes more bureaucracy than genuine sustainability. Like for instance… I can have two
products, one of them will be OMRI (a registered organic product), and the concentration of
it is like 10% let’s say. I’ll have another product, same ingredients, same company, same
process. The concentration is 40%. It’s not OMRI. That makes no sense… It’s more
sustainable for me to take the 40% concentration because I’m going to dilute it anyway. Then
I have less material getting shipped, on and on down the road...Certified organic, its more,
much more consumer-driven than producer driven. And they think, basically it’s like these
guys feel like they’re on trial when the inspectors are here. And the inspectors, I’ve seen
them, they’re like hipsters from Seattle24.”
This same disconnect, or perceived lack of understanding between certifier and
farmer, has driven others away from organic certification. Of the 7 other farmers that have
no certified organic land, almost all of them believe organic certification is not fit for their
operation. Two farmers indicated slight interest in organic certification but believed that
the small size of their operation and the effort, time, and paperwork involved with
certification was too demanding for the needs of their farm. “We haven’t chosen to
become certified organic because I don’t know. It’s like everything we do, we have to do it
on our own. We’re a small farm, so I don’t have a department here that somebody here is
just gonna go do this. Somebody’s gonna be me.” In addition, the low demand for certain
organic crops, paired with the effort involved with growing both conventional and organic
varieties was too expensive and time consuming for them to handle. “You’ve got 10
sprayers lined up to go spray orchards, five of them are for your organic guys, five of them
are for conventional, and one guy hops on the wrong tractor and loads up the wrong
thing…” As expressed by Hijbeek et al. (2018) and Greiner & Gregg (2011), these farmers
feel that current policy and government regulation in regard to organic certification doesn’t
appreciate the needs or constraints of their operation.

24

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For More information on market influence, see the Market demands sections, p. 142 and p. 277

Based on principle or personal values, also defined as identity, some other farmers
would never grow organic agriculture.
“I probably can speak for a number of my friends on this, they think the same thing I do. If
the public wants to buy organically produced fruits and vegetables at a higher price, then it’s
great for us. When our wives go shopping, they quite often avoid the organic stuff… We see
the quality of the crop, the fruits and vegetables that comes off the stuff produced with nonorganic farming, and its high quality, no blemishes, its great stuff… Organics are okay for
the city people, we don’t want it”.
This farmer is over the age of 50 and was raised in the area; in following sections, I will
explore how this demographic compares to others, especially in regard to organic
agriculture. Another farmer, born and raised in the Yakima area and also over the age of
51, states agrees with the previous farmer. “I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a farmer
that’ll tell you that organic fruit or vegetables are healthier.”
Burton’s (2014) conclusions concerning age and environmental practices are
somewhat in agreement with the statements of these two farmers; however, one must look
at the implementation of management practices, not just ideology, to understand farmers
feelings towards conservation agriculture. Even though many of these farmers oppose
certified organic products, all seven of them incorporate at least some organic practices into
their operation, whether its applying compost or manure, using cover crops, or applying
what many would call ‘softer’ chemicals.
Not every farmer that I spoke to had issues with organic agriculture. At least two of
them were strong believers in the organic movement. One farmer knew that when she
purchased her farm, it would be certified organic. Her interest in agriculture began after
motherhood, and she became concerned with where her food came from. Another organic
farmer, finds the challenge of farming organically rewarding: “It’s really fun. We feel

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more comfortable with what employees are exposed to. My parents switched to organic
because they didn’t want my sister and I in the orchard with conventional spray”.
In sum, the divergent views on the presence or absence of weeds, or organic vs.
conventional agriculture are apparent in this group. While some authors believe these
divergent perspectives can be easily broken down into Conservationist and Productivist
ideologies, the previous section shows that the issue is more complex, and that each farmer
deals with different constraints that are frequently overlooked when partitioning these two
groups. As will be addressed in the following section, even if they hold staunch opinions
on one side or the other, all fifteen farmers are in some way farming with soil health in
mind.

Soil Health Knowledge: Understanding established indicators of soil
health
Using the term ‘health’ establishes that soils are living, and under proper conditions,
the living organisms that make up this system are taken care of as well. All participants
defined soil health, identified what improves and degrades soil quality, and describe
practices the farmers themselves use to manager their crops and their land (Lobry de Bruyn
& Abbey, 2002). Although not addressed as formal questions, soil physical, chemical and
biological properties described by the farmers and land managers were recorded. They also
described specific management techniques they and other farmers use to improve and
degrade the soil.

Defining soil health
Asking farmers to define soil health provided insight into the farmers’ sense of
identity and could be used to better understand how their identity informs their farming
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philosophy and impacts their management choices. In addition, this question informs what
farmers considered to be healthy, or even optimal for their growing operation, and helped
to inform whether or not these farmers understood the important role that soil plays in
agriculture (Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002). Some farmers described specific properties
or characteristics while others recognized its importance to their farm’s health.
Over half of the participants stated explicitly that soil health is the foundation of
their farm. “Well, it’s the life of everything. Water and a little sunshine. If you don’t have
those things, you don’t have a farm”. Five recognized that the economic and
environmental sustainability of their farm was connected to health of their soil. “The
thought process of improving soil health to your advantage, and good production can flow
from that, which is our belief. Then that’s truly sustainable”. Another farmer explained
that humanity depended on healthy soil. Upon asking her to define soil health, this was her
response: “Production, my livelihood, soil health is everything. If you don’t have healthy
soil, then you don’t have a farm. You have no food. If you don’t keep it in good health, its
not going to sustain us”.
Eight of the farmers defined soil health using biological characteristics or described
it as a living organism. Many of the participants explained that soil organisms must be
healthy in order to achieve optimum soil health. “I think of it more as a living soil, so to
me, if my soil is living, its working for me. So I don’t think of my plants as mining as
much as I think of my soil as living and providing nutrients… Soil health is the most
important thing in farming”. This farmer suggests that if one views soil as a living
complex system, issues like nutrient availability for plants and workability will follow
naturally.

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Four farmers used metaphors or comparisons between their soil and human health.
“Oh, it means a lot because it helps, like us. If you’re not healthy, you can’t work. Soil is
the same thing. I mean, I go look at the plants and you know something’s wrong. You
have to find out what the problem is, because you know the yields you’re supposed to get.
Because if that plant doesn’t look healthy enough, soil’s the whole thing”. I found that this
comparison between human and soil health from one of the most educated and least
educated participants in the study. Although one completed her master’s degree and the
other quit school before he received an elementary education, they both shared the belief
that maintaining soil health is as indispensable as maintaining human health.
While many of these farmers would be considered Conservationists by the
previously cited authors, they understand that soil health is an integral part of the economy
of their farm, and without it, their yields would diminish. Darragh & Emery (2018) found
that farmers mentioned financial incentives in their study as an influential factor to the
implementation of environmentally-conscious management regimes, but other factors
conveyed include: topographical constraints, learning curves, the ease of implementation,
and social norms (Boehm & Burton, 1997; Bowman & Zilberman, 2013). In addition, one
of the farmers previously cited is not certified organic and uses the recommendations of
agricultural consultants and chemical companies to supply nutrients to his soil; according to
McGuire et al.’s definition (2015), this farmer would be considered a Productivist.
Regardless, he still describes his soil as a living system, and understands that soil health
guarantees plant and crop health.

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Familiarity with established indicators of soil health
Other farmers broke soil health and/or quality down into specific characteristics.
Four farmers explained that healthy soil contained all of the nutrients necessary for plant
production. One farmer uses soil analyses to tell him how healthy his soil is. “…we rely
on people like Agri-Management and Husch & Husch [agronomists and chemical
companies] to point out that your soil needs that for a particular crop. A healthy soil I
would say is a well-balanced soil in all of the elements that the crop in question needs”.
Another farmer also explained that healthy soil provides adequate nutrients for the crop
under cultivation. “To me, its huge. It’s probably the most important thing we look at
every year… because we’ve gotta make sure we have the right nutrients in the soil so that
for the crops that we have we can get the most out of it”.
Workable soil, or soil that needs minimal management, was also defined as healthy.
“So, a healthy soil for me would be I can go grow a crop in it, and I don’t have to babysit
it… easy to manage, predictable yields of my crops, manageable weed and pest control.
It’s like being a coach and having a team of players that go out and exercise and eat well
and you know, they have a good frame of mind. Those players are the ones that are easy to
coach”. If a soil works to the advantage of the farmer, then many of those farmers would
describe it as healthy.
While all three farmers worked with chemical and agricultural consulting firms for
assistance on soil and nutrient analysis on their farms, they emphasized the role played by
their own experience, and also how closely they worked with other farmers in their
community in the creation and dissemination of soil health knowledge.

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I asked farmers to define soil health and I received a plethora of responses; the
majority of participants recognized that soil health was the foundation of their farming
system, and some understood that they could not sustain their farm or their environment
without it. Others highlighted the importance of having adequate nutrients for crop health
as well as soil that was easily workable and dependable, like a good team. Over half
expressed that soil is a living biological system and made comparisons between human and
soil health. Although the farmers and land managers interviewed for this study do not
define soil health in the same way, most of them (if not all), understand that it is an
important component to their farming operation. The following sections consider what
farmers know about established indicators of soil health (physical, chemical and biological
properties); while they were not explicitly asked to describe their understanding of these
properties, it is still useful to understand what points came up for each farmer, and which
indicators were more well-known than others.

Physical properties
In one form or another, most farmers discussed specific aspects of the soil’s
physical properties. 2/3 of the interviewed farmers described soil structure, whether in
regard to soil aggregation, or as an indicator for soil health. For the most part, many
farmers identified physical characteristics when they were asked to define soil health. “In
my opinion, healthier soil will have better organic matter levels, and it’ll be aerated soils
rather than compacted, and my ideal soil will be easily friable… you have to have
something that’s crumbly.” Tilth and friability were identified by four farmers; in addition,
the importance of soil structure in relation to pore space was discussed by three farmers.
As explained by Dexter (2004b), soils with good friability and tilth retain water well, have

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ample air and water pore space, and maintain good structure. Many farmers interviewed
were aware that these principles indicated good soil physical quality.
1/3 of the participants discussed the soil’s water retaining ability and its
permeability. Some apply gypsum and lime to increase their soil’s permeability; others add
organic matter or minimize soil disturbance to allow encourage water penetration and
prevent nutrient leaching. Two farmers irrigate their soil at variable rates, based on deeper
soil horizons that may be hardened or have a caliche layer. “The further east you go, it gets
a little worse… it’s what we call, it’s cemented, it’s a caliche layer, its impermeable, water
does not got through it… You’ve gotta really mind your water, and that’s why we use drip
irrigation”. Another farmer closer to the Yakima River has sandier soil, which struggles to
retain water. She explains that her plants are happier with overhead sprinklers or would
prefer a soil texture that holds onto water better, like a silt loam. These two farmers
express their knowledge of their soil’s texture, and even the geological forming processes
that have taken place in their area to create the soil that they farm.
Disturbing the soil structure through intensive tillage was also discussed; at least 6
farmers explained that disturbance impacts soil physical properties. “I think almost
everyone, all my neighbors that till in their organic matter, its 90% wasted… they need to
have it on top so that it can begin the process of healing the soil, of bringing it to life…the
perfect concept is: build the soil from the top instead of trying to incorporate everything.”25.
While intensive tillage oxidizes crop residues rapidly for uptake by soil microbes, the
continued disturbance of the soil structure has been shown to increase wind and water
erosion, deplete organic matter, and reduce the structural integrity of the soil (Bot &
25

The concept of soil as a living organism will be discussed in more detail in the Biological Properties
section, p. 242.

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Benites, 2005). Most farmers interviewed were aware of the negative impacts of intensive
tillage.
Crop type largely determines tillage intensity, frequency and duration. This point
was addressed by the previously quoted farmer who grows blueberries, a perennial crop
which requires no incorporation of crop residue or preparation of a seed bed for easier
planting. Of all of the farmers with row or annual crops (corn, wheat, hops, or vegetables),
they practice minimum tillage.
“…you’ve still gotta till because if you’re going to plant it there, you don’t want all the
material plugging up your cultivation equipment or your planting equipment. So you have
to be relatively clean, but we shred it first, and then we incorporate it, the disk only works
about 6-inches. So, we have these blades in the front that peel it back, and then two sets of
blades that throw the dirt back. So, it’s like you’re moving the shovel one way and you’re
moving it back the other way”.
As opposed to the traditional moldboard plow, which extends a blade deep into the soil to
expose nutrients, while incorporating surface residues, disking works at the rhizosphere, or
the top 6-inches, where most crop roots reach. Although surface structure is disrupted
using this technique, the lower soil horizons are left intact (Faidutti & Zhang, 2003).
Over half of the farmers addressed compaction, the process of over-tillage or
working the ground at the wrong time. Compaction limits the amount that air, water and
roots can penetrate the soil, and is therefore antagonistic to crop production (Bot & Benites,
2005). “Soil compaction is a big thing in hops, you want it nice and loose, so you can
move water through it and get nutrients down. Give them somewhere to grow at the same
time”. As previously discussed, compaction is more of an issue in row and annual crops,
since bare soil is exposed to heavy machinery, sometimes during rainfall (which further
increases the risk of compaction). Livestock operations must also take steps to minimize
compaction, since their ‘crop’ usually weighs 1,000 lbs. and if managed improperly, can

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increase soil exposure, compaction and erosion (Briske et al., 2017). The one livestock
operation in this study mitigates compaction through grazing rotation, aeration, and moving
cattle off of sensitive areas during rainfall. “Degrading your soil would be just letting the
animals eat it down to the ground, and stomp it, and muck it…”
Surprisingly, only three farmers described specific management practices they’ve
incorporated to mitigate soil erosion. The only vineyard in the study grows some grapes on
steep slopes; because of this, he sprays a softer herbicide to handle weed pressures. On all
of his low-grade land, he prefers hand or machine cultivation, but passing heavy machinery
on steep slopes increases the risk of erosion; therefore, he sprays an herbicide instead,
which actually preserves the structure of his soil. An interesting point to be made is that if
this farmer was certified organic, he could not spray an herbicide to mitigate the weed
pressures; even though he has made a point to manage his land with the integrity of his soil
structure in mind, he would not comply with organic regulations, and would be forced to
cultivate with machinery, or spend extra money on labor to pull weeds by hand. This is an
example of how some governmental rules and restrictions cannot incorporate the needs of
each unique farmer, farm system and farm community (Greiner & Gregg, 2011; Hijbeek et
al., 2018)
Nevertheless, other farmers are aware of wind and water erosion on their soil, and
plant crops and incorporate irrigation practices that minimize their erosion risks.
“…erosion would be a problem, but where this used to be mostly rill irrigated, most
everything is sprinkler irrigated, which cuts the weight of the erosion problem with the
water process… Wind erosion, we have some problems on the field directly ahead of me
with wind erosion. When that’s in Dill in the spring, the soil is worked for a fine seed bed.

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And if you’re right at planting time, just before or after, you get a lot of soil from the high
winds. And there’s nothing we can do about that. I prefer to keep that field in something
other than Dill.”
In summary, at least 2/3 of the farmers and land managers interviewed discuss soil
physical characteristics in some manner. Many were aware that good structure usually
indicates a healthier soil, and use words like ‘tilth’ and ‘friability’ to describe a workable
soil. Pore space, and the ability of soil to move and retain water were also discussed.
Some farmers emphasized minimizing soil disturbance; for any farmers or land managers
with row or annual crops, minimum tillage was incorporated into their system. More than
half of the farmers mentioned compaction and performed management strategies to
mitigate this issue. Surprisingly, only three farmers explicitly referred to erosion;
regardless, many farmers incorporated management practices like permanent ground cover
and minimum tillage, which minimizes this risk.
Compared to chemical and biological indicators of soil health, the participants in
my study had a better understanding of physical characteristics. As previously discussed,
farmers are experience-based learners; they create an understanding of their land through
years, decades and generations of trial-and-error (Sumane et al., 2017; Jensen et al,. 2007;
Okali et al., 1994). Changes in physical quality are visible with the naked eye and can be
observed over time. While changes in chemical and biological characteristics can be
observed over time, as well, observing causal relationships between tillage and erosion, or
driving heavy machinery over wet soil and observing compaction and crusting require less
understanding and education from farmers (McGarry, de Souza Mello Bicalho & dos
Guimarães Peixoto 2016). While farmers’ understanding of biological and chemical

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characteristics will be considered further in this section, the simple and direct effects of
management that impacts soil structure may explain why the farmers interviewed in this
study expressed greater understanding of soil physical quality than the other two indicators.

Biological properties
The role that soil biology play in improving soil quality has largely been ignored
until recently due to the prominence of research on soil chemistry and nutrient application
(Doran & Zeiss, 2000; Barrios, 2007; Lehman et al., 2015). Because of this, I assumed that
only a few farmers would discuss soil biology at all; surprisingly, over 2/3 of the
participants interviewed described living soil organisms in some capacity. Many explained
that they focus their farming practices around improving soil biology, and almost half
believe it plays a major role in soil health. “So, we’re always looking to kind of build the
ecosystem, the biology and just have certain minerals…we’re more, I guess, biological
farming. We try to remain towards the nutrition, the biology, the soil health…” This
particular farmer prefers to machine cultivate on most of his property instead of using
“RoundUp” (Glyphosate) as an herbicide, because he believes its “…harder on the
biology…”
Many other farmers recognized that applying any chemicals, albeit synthetic or
naturally derived, would negatively impact the soil biology. “I think of it more as a living
soil, so to me, if my soil is living, its working for me. So, I don’t think of my plants as
mining as much as I think of my soil as living and providing nutrients…I believe that most
farmers are farming dead soil… Dead soil is when you completely remove the structure,
you have no care for the life, those things that are living in the soil, and you simply throw
in chemicals, whether you’re organic or conventional…” This farmer is certified organic

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but believes that both organic and conventional farmers kill their soil biology; he also
believes that its possible to ‘feed your soil’ using conventional practices. Another organic
farmer, however, believes that conventional growers “ignore the microcosm of community
in the soil” and that as an organic farmer, she knows that she has a good macro- and
microbiological community in her soil.
A farm manager for a large-scale hop operation that has both certified organic and
conventional crops prioritizes the enhancement of microbial activity. They’ve found that
their organic fields are out-producing their conventional fields, even though the nutrient
levels from leaf tissue tests show little difference between the two farming types. “…we
grow some organic crops to where our organic hops are out-producing our conventional
ones. Now, by a lot of conventional tests that we use with petiole leaf sampling, they
should not be…” They believe that because they do not apply synthetic chemicals on these
fields, the soil organisms are able to work symbiotically with their crops.
A blueberry grower in the area argues that many other blueberry farmers overemphasize pH and believe that an acidic environment will produce better blueberries; he
believes that having healthy soil biology will create high quality blueberries, not just an
acidic soil environment. “And I don’t look at the pH nearly as much because it’s actually,
it’s the organic matter in the soil and it’s the living soil. You can overcome so much with
that, I’m not saying that pH doesn’t matter, to get these kinds or those kinds of microbes
alive, and the fungi and this… I’m not disagreeing with that. But all I’m saying is I’m
amazed at how much can be overcome by getting your biological right for your area. I will
have a pH of about 6.5 [a fairly neutral pH], and I’m producing the same as people that are
getting their stuff at 5.2 [an acidic pH], they’re just artificially throwing what’s needed

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there. I get the soil to be living soil, I have it at 6.5-6.8, it should be producing blueberries
almost, and it does”.
Soils contain a dense and complex system of macro- and microorganisms that carry
out a number of different functions (Lehman et al., 2015). Within my sample, the two most
commonly described soil microorganisms were microbes and mycorrhizae. Of the 15
participants, almost half discussed the role that microbes play in soil biological health.
Three participants explained that microbes play an important role in the breakdown of
organic matter for nutrient availability; one farmer described the symbiotic relationship of
nitrogen-fixing bacteria. “What happens is if you, especially when you get biodiversity as
well, because every plant has a slightly different sugar compound, and the microbial
bacteria feed on that, it’s a symbiotic relationship. So, because the plant can’t absorb
nutrients until it’s been through a process that the microbial bacteria facilitate. So the
plants and the microbes work in conjunction with each other”. In addition, this farmer
recognized that pH plays a role in microbial health, and states that the higher the acidity,
the fewer microbes that can tolerate the environment.
Mycorrhizal fungi were addressed by four farmers, but most of them discussed it
in very little detail. One farmer explained that she uses mycorrhizal fungi as a biological
indicator of soil health; however, few farmers explained how mycorrhizae function to
improve overall soil health. I spoke with another fertility manager for a conventional largescale hop operation who believes that soil biology is essential to the health and well-being
of any operation. As a newcomer to the operation, he believes the farm isn’t doing enough
to support soil organisms.
“…that’s why I’m trying to do cover cropping, like I think we’re not getting the benefit out
of the mycorrhizal fungi out of the soil because of the way we irrigate and fertilize and also

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because we till. So, I think the soil would be better if we left it alone more, and didn’t overirrigate it, and managed it so that those biological systems, especially the bacteria and the
fungi, and all the little insects that are in the soil, including earthworms, could do what I think
they’re designed to do. But it all has to fit into a production system and so I don’t know how,
I don’t know what the ideal picture is going to look like and how fast. It won’t be fast at all,
moving in that direction, but I think we’re making some progress”.
Twelve participants use cover crops in some capacity on their operation. As
previously discussed, cover crops utilize biological nutrient cycling by encouraging
Beneficial Nitrogen Fixers (BNF) to transform nitrogen from the atmosphere into a plantusable form that can be re-incorporated into the soil bank for uptake by subsequent crops
(Barrios, 2007). As previously discussed, plant biodiversity, albeit with cover crops or
weeds, also improves overall soil microbial health (Nogueira et al., 2016). Four farmers
described biodiversity in some capacity, but only one explained how it improves soil
health. “…incorporating biodiversity out there, our feeling is that if we do it right, well we
know it’s going to augment our operation… the biggest thing is enhancing microbial
activity in the soil”.
Another way to increase microbial activity in the soil is to apply inoculants. These
amendments contain a few species of soil microbes that work to improve nutrient and water
uptake by plants; however, some inoculants are better suited for specific plants and
environments, so one must be conscious that they are applying the proper inoculant for
their operation (Gaskin et al. 2013). At least two farmers explained that they use inoculants
to supplement their soil biology.
Although some farmers may not have addressed specific biological indicators, five
explained that their management practices feed the soil, thus implying that the soil is living.
Although one farmer did not describe specific biological indicators (microbes,
mycorrhizae, etc.), he justified his practices as feeding the soil. While research into the

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biological make-up of soils is increasing, few farmers have been taught or are experienced
in identifying biological indicators of soil health. There are many factors that explain this
disconnect, like the complexity of soil biological systems, and the minimal understanding
of soil ecology by both scientists and land managers (Costanza et al., 1997; Lehman et al.
2015).
Through their intuitive and experience-based awareness of the complex biological
system that is their land, farmers have an understanding that there are living components to
their soil; however, the hegemonic dominance of the traditional scientific mode of learning
has encouraged some farmers to doubt their own experience-based intuitive knowledge in
favor of information coming from reputable sources (Kloppenburg et al. 1991). Since
much of the research in the latter half of the 20th century was centered on soil chemical and
physical characteristics, and farmers have exhibited an over-reliance on information
coming from academic sources, their understanding and experience identifying biological
indicators may be less than that of their physical and chemical understanding.
Regardless, most of the farmers interviewed have at least a basic understanding of
the role played by soil microorganisms in soil and crop health. Many of these farmers are
taking the necessary steps to create an environment that soil macro and micro-organisms
find suitable. Many more are coming to realize the positive benefits they will receive from
the living soil biology. Many of the farm owners that discussed soil biology were able to
manage it to the best of their ability; however, the two hop growers described previously
felt constrained by market and owner demands. It is well known, though, that managing
soil biology has not been the focus of management practices over the past half century.
Since humans are just now realizing the important role played by soil organisms, not just

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nutrients, we still have much to learn (Doran & Zeiss, 2000; Barros, 2007; Lehman et al.
2015). In addition, a shift has begun where we not only prioritize soil nutrient quantities,
but also abundance of soil microbial activity. Soil Quality indicators that monitor biology
are now being used regularly; hopefully, we will pay as much attention to soil microbes as
we are mindful of soil chemical properties in the near future.

Chemical properties
Initially, I assumed farmers would have the greatest knowledge of chemical
properties, like the types of nutrients available and required by plants, soil acidity and
alkalinity, and chemical processes taking place below and aboveground. Many farmers
were aware of nutrient requirements and deficiencies in their plants; almost all used crop
indicators to identify nutrient deficiencies in their soil. In addition, most had an
understanding of soil pH, and the effects of the highly alkaline soils common in the area.
Interestingly, most did not describe specific nutrient processes taking place, like the
nitrogen of phosphorus cycles or the soil’s Cation Exchange Capacity (CEC)26. This is a
point that must be explored further by soil conservationists and agricultural consultants; are
farmers aware of the chemical processes taking place in their soil?
When discussing soil fertility, nutrient availability and chemical properties are
largely described by farmers. There are 15 soil macro- and micronutrients required by
most plants; nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium (NPK), ‘the big 3’ usually are needed in
the largest quantities in plants; therefore, they have historically been favored when
managing soil fertility than other macro and micro-nutrients (Brady & Weil, 2010). A

26

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For more information, see Chemical Indicators section, p. 69

farmer who farms mint and annual row crops conventionally recognizes that many of his
friends are not applying micronutrients in large enough quantities.
“Most of us understand the NPK relationship quite well, but you get into some of the minor
crop chemicals [micronutrients] like copper and manganese and some of those, you can be
deficient in those. On our seed crops, we usually apply zinc [another micronutrient] which
seems to help the seed crops (grains, I believe?) but we rely on people like agri-management
and Husch & Husch (chemical and ag consultants) to point out that your soil needs that for a
particular crop. A healthy soil I would say is a well-balanced soil in all of the elements that
the crop in question needs”.
As previously discussed, many farmers rely on agricultural and chemical consultants to
analyze the nutrient content of their soil. These consultants advise farmers on the optimum
chemicals to apply at the ideal time for proper nutrient management.
Almost all farmers discussed nutrient availability in some capacity, while at least 13
participants described some form of chemical processes or reactions; they referred to the
availability of nutrients with specific chemical fertilizers and explained that nutrients can
become ‘locked up’. While only one farmer addressed the soil’s cation exchange capacity
(CEC), at least four referred to nutrients becoming locked up based on the presence or
absence of nutrients. Although this does not refer directly to a soil’s CEC, it indicates that
farmers have a basic understanding that excess nutrients can not only waste money, but it
can also prevent the availability and uptake of other nutrients by plants. In addition, five
farmers explicitly described biochemical processes, or that through planting, like cover
crops or crop rotation, one can add or remove nutrients from the soil.
One of the most frequently discussed talking points was soil pH. Yakima soils
typically have a higher calcium content. To better understand a problem field, one farmer
dug multiple eight-foot holes to see what was happening belowground; she encountered
this alkalinity head-on.

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“…we found all of these layers of sand and clay. Different layers around the block, caliche
layers, hard pans. We were trying to break it up. This vinegar is being used to dissolve (the
caliche layer) to see if it will break. Its been in there for 2 weeks. We have high pH so high
vinegar, so it will help the caliche. So that was a thing, and now what we’re going to do.
We’re going to change the pH a little bit, so we will rip both ways, before we did that, we
took a sonar over the field, so they send us all these maps but no key”.
Twelve farmers described how soil pH impacts their crops and the availability of nutrients,
also implying a basic understanding of the soil’s CEC.
Most farmers interviewed had a basic understanding of chemical processes taking
place; I would argue that individuals with a more in-depth and extensive understanding of
soil chemistry either studied the information on their own or learned about it through an
agriculture-specific post-secondary education. While farmers were not asked explicitly to
provide their understanding of soil chemical properties, the information gathered suggests
that many of these processes are not intuitive; in general, most farmers without an
agricultural or environmental educational background have less of an awareness of nutrient
loss through leaching, or ammonification, which is not visible with the naked eye.
Due to the expert to non-expert relay of information from scientists to farmers,
many land managers trust that recommendations from extension agents, soil
conservationists, and agricultural consultants would already address issues that may come
up. Because of this, it is possible that farmers may believe that they do not have to worry
about such issues as nutrient loss through leaching and ammonification themselves because
they’re paying a specialist to identify these problems for them. As discussed previously,
problems arise in this scenario, since the history of soil and agricultural research has
prioritized making generalizable, universal recommendations to all farmers and farm
systems; however, as referenced throughout this thesis, each farmer, farm system, and farm
community is a unique ecosystem in themselves. Therefore, more research into farmers’

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actual understanding of soil chemical properties is necessary to understand what farmers
know, and how scientists, agronomists and consultants can better inform the individuals
responsible for farming and managing the environment.

Organic Matter
Organic Matter plays a huge role in overall soil health; high quantities of organic
matter are usually indicative of healthy soil, based on biological, chemical and physical
indicators (Bot & Benites, 2005). In addition, organic matter can act as a point of
coalescence for both soil scientists and farmers; it’s easy to identify, intuitive, and one of
the best indicators of soil health (de Souza Mello Bicalho & dos Guimaraes Peixoto, 2016).
All farmers interviewed identified SOM as an important indicator of soil health “[Organic
matter] improves the tilth and the friability of the soil. We like to keep high organic
matter… I like in general to keep as high organic matter levels as we can get because I
don’t think there’s danger on this type of soil of getting too much organic matter with your
practices”.
As will be discussed later, farmers use a number of indicators to determine the
quality of their soil. Twelve of the farmers and land managers interviewed for this study
indicated that they use organic matter as an indicator of soil health. In addition, all fifteen
farmers incorporate management practices that reduce the breakdown of organic matter in
order to add more to their soil. “One of the first things we look at is organic matter, that’s
why we’re putting compost in, to improve that. That’s why in the hops, we’re planting
triticale as a cover crop to produce green manure, and we mow it off and disk it in… The
other thing I’d add is organic matter helps you a lot with water [retention] in your soil.
That definitely plays a role in that as well”.

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There are a number of management techniques used by farmers to improve soil
organic matter levels; I’ve considered the four most commonly discussed techniques
described by farmers that add organic matter to the soil. These include: incorporating
cover crops into the system; applying either manure, compost, or biosolids; minimizing
disturbance of the soil structure (minimum or no-till); farming perennial crops; and crop
rotation (Janzen et al., 2005; Dixon & Garrity 2014, Nunes et al. 2018, Karlen & Obrycki
2018). As explained by one farmer, who incorporates all of these practices into his
operation:
“…we’ve pretty much greatly reduced, almost eliminated plowing, and with the shredders
and things like that, we try to leave as much residue as possible. I wish I could leave more,
but that’s part of the reason why we bring a lot of compost in. And that’s what we’re trying
to make up for. And then with the compost, we’re trying to put that microbial inoculation
back into the soil. The one thing I think we could do more of and I need to figure out a
system that fits our operation is cover cropping, because if we cover crop, then you’ll actually
increase that microbial activity in the biosphere, in the rhizosphere”.
According to De Baets et al. (2011), leaving soil exposed without coverage as
fallow ground or for other purposes has been shown to reduce overall soil quality; it also
has been shown to increase the breakdown of organic material, leaving fewer nutrients
available for future crop production. Cover cropping has become a popular practice in the
past few decades and offers a much more beneficial alternative to fallow land. Cover crops
not only maintain soil coverage, but many legumes (alfalfa, clover, beans, etc.) encourage
nitrogen fixation from the atmosphere, in addition to assisting the plants in the absorption
of other soil nutrients. Cover crops have also been shown to retain soil moisture, which is
essential in a desert climate like Yakima (Mitchell et al., 2017). They support a healthy
soil biological system and can serve as a green manure and can be used to increase soil
organic matter levels (De Baets et al., 2011).

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Thirteen participants in this study use some form of cover crops in their operation.
For the perennial growers with large row spacing, like hops and orchard fruit (apples,
pears, grapes, and blueberries), cover crops are planted in-between rows to minimize
compaction from heavy traffic and machinery, in addition to improving organic matter
levels and overall soil health. “What benefits us is having that cover crop, holding the soil
in place, having that root turnover. So, I think a perennial cover crop, you have that root
turnover… it’s gonna be key…”. This individual is one of the three fertility managers or
R&D specialists of the hop industry. All three of these individuals are researching cover
cropping systems and are incorporating them into their systems. “…well, [the
corporation’s board] are letting me do cover cropping because they think its probably a
better way, you know, if we can learn how to do it so that it doesn’t depress our yields, and
maybe in fact helps improve our yields. Or just gives us some benefits like a little bit less
dust or maybe it does improve soil health. They buy into that, and are supportive of it,
they’re not antagonistic, they’d like it to go that way”. What must be noted is that these
individuals work for large operations and are not the farmers themselves; through
quantitative analysis they must prove to the owners or other investors that practices like
cover cropping increase yield in some capacity. “We developed a biodiverse cover crop
that we put down. How do I measure the success of that? It may show up in yield now, it
may not show up in yield now.”.
As explained by a pear grower, cover crops serve a multitude of benefits to
perennial crop systems: “In orchards, just orchard grass mix. In the grapes, we’ve done
some radishes to help break up soil further down, deep rooting cover crop, I know we’ve
done that in the past, especially in areas of the soil that are more hard-packed, compacted.

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Fertility issues that we’ve got. So yeah, we look at those beneficial cover crops that maybe
will help the soil break things up and making it more efficient and accessing water and
higher yields, things like that”. Many farmers plant cover crops in-between rows of their
orchards and perennial systems to prevent compaction, increase soil nutrients and retain
water (Ernst et al., 2018).
As discussed previously, biodiversity is necessary to provide ample nutrient sources
for soil biology and crops (Barrios, 2007). It has been shown that having a more diverse
cover crop mix creates a healthier soil environment; many farmers understand this concept
and attempt to include a diverse array of cover crop species to provide a variety of
nutrients. “…we plant grass between our trees. It’s a special grass mix, and I like to use a
little bit of clover for N… so there’s bluegrass, rye grass, usually your grasses that don’t
grow so fast. We just mow it down. But this one block… I had it in pasture. And now, I
didn’t seed it or nothing, I just kept mowing, and I’ve got grass”. Many farmers utilized
special diverse cover crop mixes, while some just plant one or two cover crop varieties to
satisfy specific needs. “…in the hops, we’re planting triticale as a cover crop to produce
green manure, and we mow it off and disk it in”. Some farmers use no seed mix, but allow
the previously-planted hay grass and weed seeds to provide cover in their alleyways. A
perfect example is the wine grape grower located on the hills of the Ahtanum ridge that
allows natural weeds and grasses to grow between his crops. This farmer describes specific
weeds as ‘diggers’ that pull up nutrients from the subsoil that can be mowed down and used
for the following crop.
Although it has been shown that increasing biodiversity with plant coverage
improves soil physical, chemical and biological properties (Barrios, 2007), having any sort

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of ground coverage will greatly reduce a farmer’s risk of wind and water erosion,
compaction, and nutrient loss. In addition, cover crops can add nutrients, increase water
retention, and increase organic matter (De Baets et al., 2011).
Although planting cover crops is ideal, some farmers find it too risky to waste
productive land with a cover crop, largely because it does not increase profits (Boehm &
Burton, 1997). Therefore, other amendments high in organic matter are applied to the soil.
All fifteen of the farmers interviewed apply compost, green and animal manure, biosolids,
or a combination of the three, and all of them believe they improve their soil health.

Manure, compost and biosolids
Manure, compost, and biosolids are ideal soil amendments because they have a low
C:N ratio, (meaning they can decompose quickly), making nutrients rapidly available to
soil microorganisms and crops. For the most part, manure, compost and biosolids are
cheap and readily available, since most dairies and livestock operations have excess waste
that by law must not accumulate in excess (D’Hose et al., 2014; Farrell & Jones, 2009; Zou
et al., 2017). Many farmers grow perennial crops that produce large amounts of waste,
specifically hops and mint. Compost is also an important source of nutrients for many
organic and sustainable growers; because they can’t use synthetic chemicals to apply
nutrients to their soil, composted residues have been shown to be high in many macro and
micro-nutrients (Annunziata & Vecchio, 2016). Although somewhat controversial,
biosolids, a by-product of the wastewater treatment process, have been shown to increase
organic matter levels as well as improve overall soil health.
Composting processes crop and animal residues in a moist, warm, and well-aerated
environment; one author found that the application of compost on a variety of crops

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increased plant-available N, P and K, aggregate stability, microbial biomass and
biodiversity, and decreased bulk density (D’Hose et al., 2014). Some farmers apply old
crop residues that have been processed in some way, while others apply composted
manure. Many farmers explained that there was an ample supply of composted materials to
be applied to their soil. “Years ago, we used to make our own [compost], and we just
figured we could just get it so much cheaper. Maybe it’s not quite the quality, but you
could get truckloads coming in. We prefer to get it from dairies because they use a lot
more carbon-base. They have a lot of straw and stuff in their mix”. One annual row crop
farmer makes his own compost from crop residues, but also uses manure from a local feed
lot. “The asparagus butts are going into that truck, and we haul them out to the compost
pile… it goes back to the dirt, and we’ll compost ‘em about 30 turns, so we actually bring
the manure in the winter time, because that’s when the dairies want us to get rid of it, and
then what we’ll do is we’ll turn it and we’ll try to dry it”. As an organic and conventional
grower, he has found that compost is beneficial for both conventional and organic crops.
“…we were initially only using compost on the organic, but we have enough compost now
to apply it to the conventional. And so, the majority of our conventional fields now have
compost”.
One of the cash crops in the area is mint; most of the mint growers interviewed have
on-site mint distilleries where oil is extracted at high heat and under large amounts of water
pressure. This process is beneficial for the growers, since they have ample supplies of
excess organic matter to apply to their soil. In its partially processed and broken-down
state, nutrients in mint slugs are more readily available for uptake by the next year’s crop.
One farmer commented on his neighboring mint farmer’s abundance of organic matter:

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“And the reason I’m so envious [of my neighboring mint farmer] is because they cook that
mint, the only thing they’re taking off is 200 lbs. of oil off every acre. Everything else
comes back to the soil… all that organic matter goes back into his field. I mean, they spray
the crap out of this stuff, but his soil just is beautiful because he has all that organic
matter”. Another mint farmer applies mint slugs in areas of high alkalinity. “The only
place I use mint slugs would be for soil that has too much salt and we can’t keep it wet. So,
you put the mint slugs on, you keep the moisture. And by keeping the moisture, it gets rid
of your salts”.
A few farmers apply large quantities of composted and raw manure and believe it
improves their soil quality in a number of ways.
“I had a hay field for 12 years. And I put all this manure, in fact, and you can ask
anybody…How many people have put this much manure with straw and everything on top
of a hay field? Some crazy people. And I’ve done it. People have seen me and are like, ‘are
you crazy? What the hell are you thinking?’ I think I was, I was thinking wrong when I did
it… And that hay, from being almost tired, done growing… that hay grew really strong. It
was really good hay after that. I went 12 years on that stuff.”.
The only livestock grower interviewed for this study believes that applying manure is the
best option for her operation, even if synthetic fertilizers are easier. “A lot of times, it’s
cheaper to go with just a pellet, but I look at the soil differently. I would rather go with an
organic manure. I have it do to, I have it to spread, I can compost it. That is the best way,
to put natural to natural”.
Of all fifteen growers, only one farming operation applies biosolids to their
property. This farm also collects them from 30 different wastewater treatment facilities and
applies them to 200,000 acres across Washington. Biosolids are still an extremely
controversial issue, and much of the general public is apprehensive of its widespread use
(Barclay 2013). Only one other farmer considered applying biosolids at all but was met

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with widespread opposition. “7 or 8 years ago, we looked at the possibility, along with the
compost to incorporate municipal sludge, and there was a community meeting, there were a
lot of very unhappy people… one of the Roy owners stood up and said, ‘Okay, we’re done
here, we’re not doing this.’”. Even though this same farmer recognized the misperceptions
of the public concerning biosolids, they still chose not to use it. The one farmer that
applies biosolids to their ground recognizes the public misperceptions, but believes that the
overall benefits outweigh the risks, especially with the current EPA rules and regulations in
place. “there’s always a public perception and people not fully understanding. I think it
just takes educating and being honest and upfront and communicating with people when
they have questions about biosolids. But as far as farmers being happy with the product
and growing really good crops and higher yields and better soil fertility, and OM and
balancing pH and everything else, it’s been really beneficial to us and also other farmers”.
One farmer found that despite what the general public believes, applying compost,
manure, or other residues is not necessary if one’s soil health is optimal. “…the best way I
can explain it to you is, if you think about taking a bonfire and throwing all of your
material on it at once, it just burns up and its gone. In our soil, the way the buffer is, I’m
not saying I understand it completely. The mint slugs, the compost, the manure, when you
worked it into the ground, it was gone. You could not see any residue… I can’t tell you
exactly what it did, but like I said, it’s like a bonfire…” Based on the unique fine texture of
this farmer’s soil, he’s observed different outcomes than one may expect from confirmed
scientific findings. He even claims that he can use fewer inputs than other farmers because
he’s “feeding the soil instead of feeding the plant”.

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In summary, all fifteen farmers apply some organic matter to their soil, either in raw
or composted form. Some purchase manure and compost from local feed lots or
municipalities, while others have excess residues which they can apply to their fields. One
farmer is a huge proponent of biosolids, a controversial amendment that, when properly
treated and monitored, can supply ample nutrients to crops and can also be used as a means
to minimize the amount of waste going into landfills (King County Wastewater Treatment
Division, 2016). The application of composted organic material is just one facet of
methods utilized by farmers to increase SOM.

Perennial crops
One of the best ways to maintain soil structure, add organic matter, and
consequently improve overall soil health is to grow perennial crops. With many perennial
crops, the soil column is left intact; a complex network of roots serves to maintain the
structure, in addition to adding organic matter from crop residue (Ernst et al., 2016).
Fortunately for the soil and farmers of the Yakima Valley, many of the cash crops in the
area are perennial crops. These include: apples, hops, grapes, blueberries, mint, alfalfa and
hay; while they are all perennial, they have different management requirements, and
therefore impact the soil differently.
All fifteen farmers grow at least one perennial crop; the different management
practices performed on each crop influence the organic matter accumulation, and overall
soil health, in a variety of ways. For apple, pear, cherry, grape orchards and hops, cover
crops and grass mixes typically occupy the alleyways, while a weed strip is maintained
directly beneath the plant’s canopy. This practice limits pest habitat and prevents weeds
and other plants from stealing nutrients and water from the crops (Vossen & Ingals, 2002).

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While organic matter is maintained deeper in the soil column and in the alleyways, organic
matter at the surface, directly beneath the trees is limited due to the surface tillage and
application of herbicides. For blueberries, however, a weed fabric is applied, preventing
the accumulation weed growth and also retaining water and organic matter (Miller, 2015).
Different management practices, which influence the amount of organic matter present, and
are also indicative of healthier soils.

Minimum and no-till practices
Maintaining soil structure and preventing disturbance has been shown to improve
overall soil health (Nunes et al., 2018). While perennial crops induce much less soil
disturbance, many annual row crops like wheat or corn require more intensive cultivation in
order to incorporate residues from the previous years’ crop. One of the most hotly
contested issues concerning agricultural techniques are the benefits associated with
minimum or no-tillage practices. Historically, farmers have utilized the moldboard plow,
an instrument that played a major role in the development of the United States. The
moldboard plow rips the ground from below, and organic matter and nutrient-rich top soil
is brought up to the surface, exposing nutrients to the environment for mineralization and
increasing their availability for future crops (Faidutti & Zhang, 2003). Such an intensive
tool was necessary for converting virgin prairie grassland throughout the United States into
farmable land, since it broke up the dense masses of native root vegetation and disrupted
total soil structure and was common practice until the second half of the 20th century, when
scientists became aware of the relationship between intensive tillage and soil erosion (Lal
2007).

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Conservation or minimum-tillage practices became more normalized, where
farmers would not rip the ground deeply to turn the soil but would instead turn under
annual crops and residues using a disk at a shallower depth. Even though conservation
tillage reduces the risk of wind and water erosion, there are still many scientists and
farmers that would argue this practice is still detrimental to soil structure and biology
(Reicosky, 2015). No-tillage keeps residue in place with virtually no disturbance of the soil
surface whatsoever. Seeds and nutrients (including manure) are injected into the soil, and
the residue is left en situ as a nutrient source and to maintain soil structure (Lal, 2007).
Different crops have different tillage requirements, in addition to different
management practices. Although many farmers are aware that intensive tillage increases
erosion potential, they may have to use a deeper implement to turn up residue, break up the
soil structure, and prepare a seedbed for the following year’s crop. Of the farmers
interviewed, many discussed their preferences for using a variety of implements for
different tasks and compare their tillage requirements with other farmers.
“Are you familiar with a ripper disk? [It] cuts and turns the soil, then the shanks behind rip
deeper into the ground. And then the rear disks turn it again. It’s used for sizing, cutting
residue into manageable chunks… on your right you’ll see a big disk. That’s for sizing and
mixing only it doesn’t go deeply like the ripper disk. The old method is plowing, a typical
plow. People are getting away from moldboard plowing [because] we’re getting a better
seed bed out of mixing it and leaving the trash [residue] on top. Now Lon plows ‘em and he
has a reason for it. He’s raising vegetables and he doesn’t want any trash on top, so the way
to get rid of it is to plow it under. With our mint root, it thrives with loose soil right on top
with organic matter. And this helps to hold moisture. Neither way is wrong, it’s just not the
best practice for some purpose”.
A farmer that grows vegetable crops utilizes minimum tillage but explains that tillage is
necessary for his organic crops, since they machine cultivate to get rid of weeds.
“And so, you’ve still gotta till because if you’re gonna plant in there, you don’t want all the
material plugging up your cultivation equipment or your planting equipment. So, you have
to be relatively clean, but we shred it first, and then we incorporate it. The disk only works

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about 6 inches. So, we have these blades in the front that peel it back, and then two sets of
blades that throw the dirt back. So its like you’re moving the shovel one way and you’re
moving it back the other way. And down the middle where the ditch is, that’s where we have
these ripper shanks, and try to loosen up the compacted soil. So that’s minimum tillage”.
Another farmer that rotates between annual row crops like corn and wheat with
perennial mint also favors the ripper disk since it minimizes the number of ‘passes’ on the
soil necessary to break up the residue.
“So, we used to do a plow program behind the corn harvest. We’d disk it probably 2, maybe
3 times, we’d mow it first, then we’d disk it, knock down the stalks, then we’d go in with a
plow and plow it under… So, you’re doing a lot of passes with the tractor a lot of the time, a
lot of equipment. So, we bought a couple new pieces of minimum till equipment… it’s got
paddles in the back to stir it as you go along. We’ll run that and then another machine which
basically has coulter blades on it, chops everything to little bits, then we’ll run that ripper
machine through it, and we’ll let it go through the winter like that way… so we’re doing
probably half the tractor work now, but getting the same if not better results than the
following crops because we’re not pulverizing the soil”.
As previously discussed, minimizing the number of passes of heavy machinery reducing
the risk of compaction, erosion, and poor water permeability; and maintains soil physical
quality (NRCS, 1996).
All fifteen farmers practice at least some form of minimum or no tillage; as
previously described, most choose not to plow intensively in order to protect the soil
structure. For farmers with perennial crops like grapes, apples, and blueberries, tillage is a
very minimal process; for other perennial crops like hops, the plants require more
groundwork. “[In the orchard] we prefer to have a grass cover crop, but its bare underneath
the trees, what you call a weed strip, and your drive rows, grass strip in the middle… hops
need to be cultivated more. Trees don’t need to re-do the ground. You don’t work the
ground in trees. Soil compaction is a big thing in hops, you want it nice and loose, so you
can move water through it and get nutrients down”.

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All farmers work to minimize the amount of disturbance in the soil; they are aware
that making multiple passes can create compaction, preventing water and roots from
penetrating the soil. In addition, excessive disturbance negatively impacts the soil biology,
which was described by a few farmers. “The more you disturb the soil, the more you’re
bringing things up, losing soil moisture, things like that. And some of the farmers we work
with in biosolids and dryland wheat have gone to no-till just for those reasons, especially
moisture, and then organic matter as well. It’s starting to catch on more here… less erosion
and all that”. Most participants are aware that intensive disturbance negatively impacts soil
structure, and all of them are implementing minimum or no tillage practices to help
maintain it.
It has been shown that no-till agriculture for row crops like wheat require applied
synthetic nutrients, since one benefit of tillage is that it aids in the mineralization of crop
residues from the previous years’ crops (Malhi et al., 2001). For many organic operations
that cannot apply synthetic chemicals, no-tillage does not provide enough nutrients and
limits yield potential (Annunziata & Vecchio, 2016). Since each farmer and farm system is
unique, it is essential that policy considers the constrains for each operation. Future
research should consider which management practices lead to the most negative soil,
ecosystem, and environmental impacts; questions addressing what is truly more beneficial
for the health of the environment should be addressed, and policy and regulation should
understand the complex circumstances and constraints each farmer and farm system
encounters.

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Soil degradation through management practices
Farmers were asked to provide examples of management practices that degrade soil
health; by asking farmers to communicate soil degrading practices, I hoped to better
understand what they knew about overall soil health and quality as well as how they
compare their own practices to those that degrade the soil. Their responses inform how an
individual’s farming philosophy impacts their management practices (Walhutter et al.,
2016). As described previously, all 15 explained that management that degrades soil
organic matter will also degrade overall soil quality. “Usually when people harvest and
leave no residue. That, in my opinion, is what degrades it the most, and then when you
take what little residue you have and work it under the ground”. This farmer believes that
by eliminating as much residue as possible, and with the subsequent ‘de-plowing’ as he
refers to it, where residue is incorporated 18 inches down, one can run the risk of losing
organic matter and degrading their soil. Many other recognized that within a desert climate
and with such little organic matter to begin with, one must be mindful of organic matter
levels. “Here, our soil’s at a different level because of our climate and the types of soils we
have. We have mineral soils, and it’s difficult if you have any high pH or sodium in the
soil, it just consumes the organic matter. And so, it’s really difficult to bring a level way
up, but its important that you keep bringing some back in as much as you can…”
Two farmers explained that bare soil also degrades soil quality. As expressed in the
previous paragraph, improper and intensive tillage, which contributes to rapid organic
matter mineralization, was described by almost half of the participants as a means of soil
degradation. “I think almost everyone, all my neighbors that till in, and most gardeners that
till in their organic matter and its 90% wasted. Because what needs to be done is they need

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to have it on top so that it can begin the process of healing the soil, of bringing it to life”.
This same farmer makes an analogy of soil as skin, and how skin would appear if it was
treated the same way that many farmers treat their soil: “Mostly they ignore that the soil is
like an organ, like your skin. And if you did to your skin what people do to their soil, then
we’d all be scarred up and it’d be a horrible thing… I just don’t think people realize how
much harm they’re doing in soil”.
Ten participants believed improper nutrient management contributes to soil
degradation. Many described taking up more nutrients than what is returned to the soil as
mining, which provokes future problems. “…you know, a lot of farming today is mining,
you’re mining your soils, right? And after a while, you know I just got, having more and
more pest issues, and I’ve gotta spray more. Its’ kinda this merry-go-round”. One farmer
describes this practice as raping the ground: “…we had a couple fields out here where I’m
standing right now, horrible, horrible fields. They were raped, all they did was rape the
ground. They didn’t put anything into it. They just grew crops on it, they were unwilling
to spend the money to put fertilizer down.” Removing nutrients without returning them to
the soil was considered degrading for at least 2/3 of the participants in this study.
On the other hand, some farmers believed that over-applying nutrients was not only
economically illogical, but also contributed to land degradation. Two farmers considered
the history of synthetic fertilizer use and its impacts on the environment. “Just after postWWII, so you had the advent of oil-derived synthetic nitrogen fertilizer initially, it was
looked like, ‘this is a miracle’… not fully understanding the ramifications of overuse or
abuse”. Others describe the overuse of chemicals in general as a sure-fire method to
degrade soil. “Chemicals are degrading, some are burning. You’ve got some chemicals

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that will actually stop the growth of anything. It will just burn it. There’s a multitude of
sin is what I call it, that you can do to the soil and it will never come back”.
Improper irrigation management was described by 5 participants as a means of soil
and land degradation. “So, the worst thing is overwatering. This to me, seems like there’s
some data to back that up… not overwatering, not leaching nutrients out, and not affecting
your soil aeration with your overwatering. You’re just gonna shoot yourself in the foot
right there”. Others explained that furrow irrigation, the practice of applying large
quantities of water to the surface in trenches between rows, leads to water erosion, and
subsequent soil degradation. “…the other thing that used to degrade the soil was when we
actually used to use furrow irrigation, we’d run this stuff down the row and you’d have a
waste ditch, so water had silt in it, so it’d dump into the drainage ways and the drainage
would dump into the river. And so now, the dirt that’s coming off of that brown water is
probably the best dirt that you have, because it’s the most mobile, it’s the fluffiest dirt”.
The final practice discussed by the participants of this study is compaction; over
half of the farmers interviewed believed soil compaction rapidly degraded soils.
“Compaction is a very important factor and anything the chemicals do to it. And its
overlooked by most farmers, they don’t consider compaction a big deal, but a permanent
crop (like blueberries), it can be pretty serious because you can’t rip it up and loosen it up,
and the structure of the soil has all to do with its ability to percolate water and bring oxygen
in the soil which is necessary for the microbes to survive”. The only livestock operation
interviewed for this study believed that improper livestock management contributed to
compaction as well as exposing bare soil. “Degrading would be just letting the animals eat
it down to the ground, and stomp it, and muck it, and not putting anything back into it”.

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Finally, another farmer described what happens when you plow wet soil: “I can’t even
express the frustration when you’re taking a plow across the ground that has a little wet on
top… Well, that wet, it’s like peanut butter, and you try to drive across it, and everything is
sticking, corn stalks on top and dry stuff underneath, which it just balls up. It’s a mess, I’m
getting stressed thinking about it”. Most of the farmers would agree that practices that
degrade soil structure negatively impact soil quality as well.
There were a number of ways described by the participants in this study to degrade
soil health; all 15 farmers agreed that removing organic matter, especially in the desert
climate of Yakima, would contribute to soil degradation. Other practices included:
improper tillage, mismanagement of nutrients and chemicals, improper irrigation, and
compaction. It is clear that these farmers prioritize appropriate and efficient soil
management practices and believe that its mismanagement will have detrimental effects in
the future.

Soil quality indicators
Soil scientists and agronomists have established a series of parameters that can be
measured to indicate the quality of soil health; most have undergone rigorous in-the-field
and laboratory testing to prove whether or not certain characteristics can be used to
determine healthier soil. Farmers also have a number of indicators they use to determine
the quality of their soil using methods similar to those used by scientists (Doran 2002,
Knapp & Fernandez-Gimenez, 2009; Dawoe et al. 2012; Walhutter et al., 2016). Almost
all of the participants use in-the-field observation on a daily basis to determine the quality
of their soil. According to one of the hop farm managers, “the best fertilizer in the field is

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your footprints”; many of the farmers spend much of their time in the field observing their
soil and crops directly.
“I do like walking the field and seeing it every day. You really get a feel for it, hey I’ve got
weeds coming up out here. Or why is this turning yellow, its turning a color, why is it turning
a color here? I did have that in my hay field and that’s because I was out walking in it, and I
was out irrigating, and I’m ike, ‘hey, I’ve got a lot of yellow showing up on this one piece,
what do we got going on here?’ and you put a little time in, make some phone calls and you
realize, hey, you’re watering too much. Oh okay, I can fix that problem real easy. I can stay
home tomorrow”.
One individual described patterns of infiltration and water movement as an indication of
soil quality. “You can always look at water, how the irrigation is hitting it. Is it like
pooling on the surface or it just looks wet, like the soil just took all that water and soaked it
right in. That’s the main thing… it’s looking at how the water behaves and how it feels
under your feet”.
Almost all of the farmers and land managers interviewed send their soil samples to
a lab for nutrient analysis. These include: total nutrient content of macro and
micronutrients, pH, cation exchange capacity, and other laboratory-based indicator
analyses. Similarly, almost all of the farmers interviewed collect tissue samples to
understand plant nutrient availability at different growing times of the year. Although little
can be done to augment nutrient levels for a current crop, these samples provide
information on what may be lacking for the following year’s crop. “…in the fall, they just
took our soil analysis just recently, and that’ll help us evaluate, we don’t do that every year,
we do that every other year. And we base our fertilizer on our analysis, we do a leaf
analysis in the summer…”
All but one farmer specifically uses crop health as an indicator of soil health. “…at
the end of the day, yield is how we pay bills. So, yield as a function of quality and

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quantity…” (Sean Benson). For this particular farming operation, they’ve established Key
Performance Indicators (KPIs) to measure the success of most parts of the farm: “…so one
of my challenges is to come up with KPI’s… Fertility, how efficiently did we use our
fertilizer budget? Did we, because you know there are different forms of nutrients cost
different amounts of money…” Most farmers interviewed utilize multiple indicators to
determine the health of their soil.
“First and foremost, we soil test almost every field every year. So, we know what the
chemistry it’s in the soil and what is high enough in and what it lacks. We can also see
growing pains in the crops. You can see this field lacks something, corn for example, quite
readable. You can look at the leaves and say, ‘well that lacks zinc or something. And also,
I go by my own records which I keep from year to year. And I know what’s been applied to
the soil and I know what those tests are”.
80% of the farmers interviewed specifically cited soil organic matter as a measure
of healthy soil. Organic matter can be measured with lab analysis or in-the field
observation. This is extremely important, since organic matter can be used as a bridge
between soil scientists and farmers to define soil health (de Souza Mello Bicalho & dos
Guimaraes Peixoto, 2016). In addition, less than half of the farmers use soil biological
indicators, in addition to other physical and chemical indicators: “…so you’re looking at
the crop, the tree health the petioles, right? So, we do petioles twice a year for tree fruit and
we do soil samples every couple years since they don’t change as rapidly. What’s out
there? Are we having a disease infestation? What is the view? Is the soil hard and compact,
or is it soft and pliable? Are there earthworms? Are there bugs? What’s there?”
Technology plays an important role for some farmers and land managers: two
discussed the use of drones to take aerial photographs. This practice allows farmers to
observe color variations and crop health from a much larger scale. Two other farmers use
Electrical Conductivity maps; a non-metallic cart drives over the soil and measures the

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electrical current of a given field, which can tell you the salinity or sodicity of your soil,
(and essentially measures pH) (Grisso et al., n.d.). One farmer uses the NRCS’ Web Soil
Survey to understand the soil type and textural analysis of a given field.
Four farmers explained that they just have a feeling or intuition about a given field
that is difficult to quantify or replicate in a laboratory setting. “We’re not real scientists
trying to measure everything. But somewhat as a feeling, an observation more. Seeing the
health of your vines. Is your fruit set even? How do the vines look and respond? Is your
crop good, or is it starting to languish…” Another farmer takes a completely different
approach, which he attributes to his educational and agricultural background. “Personally,
I’m oriented towards what I see the crop doing and what I see on the soil test. So, I don’t
feel the soil for moisture content, probably because I was just never trained or had a need to
do it that way. I think it’s a valid way. If I handled soil more, I’d probably know more…
It’s not how I approach it so its not how I fit it into my schedule”.
There are a number of methods used by farmers to measure the quality of their soil.
In-the-field observation was described specifically by almost all of the participants
interviewed, along with crop indicators and soil and tissue laboratory analyses. Recent
technological advancements assist a few of these farmers and land managers with aerial
photography and electrical conductivity. And some suggest that their ‘feelings’ or
intuition, things that are difficult to explicate, help them to evaluate their soil health.

Texture analysis and knowledge of geological history
Similar to indicators of soil quality, some farmers had extensive knowledge of the
texture of their own soil; texture, as defined by the amount of sand, silt and clay within a
particular soil, can vary drastically even within one field (Brady & Weil, 2010). Having an

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understanding of textural characteristics indicates that farmers are either working closely
with their soil or are aware of what soil textures are ideal for certain crops and forms of
agriculture. All farmers have an understanding of their soil texture in some manner or
another. As previously discussed, one farmer found an entire caliche layer in her soil after
an eight-foot deep soil horizon analysis.
Over half of the participants described the soil texture of their area. “The further
east you go, it gets a little worse… its more caliche, hardpan layers underneath. The soil
varies a lot here. I can dig down with a back-hoe 15 feet and not hit a rock. Up there, I go
down two feet, I won’t be so lucky… it’s a caliche layer, its impermeable, water does not
go through it”. In addition, at least 6 farmers were well aware of the climate in which they
farm, explaining that their soils naturally have low levels of organic matter.
In addition, I noted farmers’ understanding of the geological history of the area to
see if geological knowledge was linked to soil health knowledge; eleven of the fifteen
farmers and land managers described the land’s history in some capacity. Of the farmers
that were aware of the geological history, over half related soil texture to the land forming
processes of the area.
“…we do have some clay in some of our western slopes… I think our classification is Warden
Sandy Loam. So, as wine growers, you focus on this block and this block and the very
nuances of the soil and how that carries over to the wine and their flavors and aromas that
come from that. So, you’re kind of tuned in to some of that. This is really a unique peninsula
coming out of Uhtanum Ridge. Most of the ridgelines go kind of east-west, whereas this
little peninsula juts out of that, so we’ve got West, East South-facing slopes and they’re all
different. The west is kind of shallower, a little more rocky, a little more clay. But the
prevailing wind comes from Mt. Adams, and over the millions of years, its kind of blown
some of the sand and silt over the ridge, so the east side is kind of a silty loam, a little deeper
soils, so very different. South is kind of a blend of both… Very volcanic. We’ve got areas,
cutouts where you just see hundreds of layers of the ash and maybe when the rivers came
through. There’s just a lot of deposits, a lot of sandstone outcroppings underlay a lot of this”.

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As previously described, the Yakima Valley was formed over millions of years of
lava flows, volcanic activity, tectonic shifts, glaciations, as well as massive floods from the
Great Missoula Floods (Campbell, 1981). Over half of the participants described floods of
some sort, while most of these individuals cited the Missoula floods in particular. Less
than half described volcanic activity, and exactly half alluded to the impact of glaciers on
the soil formation of the area. One farmer disagrees entirely with what is believed to be the
geological formation of the area.
“So, my belief system is that, geologically, there was a catastrophe, and everything that I see
geologically is that there was a large body of water, it broke through. There was a flood that
came through and it left sediments. And those are actually fairly recent. All the evidence
that I see, if you look at all the rivers that are going into the ocean, every river in the world.
The sediment, the oldest sediment is only 6,000 years. There’s just no evidence of a world
that is older than 6 or 7 thousand years”
Of all farmers interviewed, I considered four to have extensive knowledge of the geological
formation of the area.
“I’ve had a minor interest in geology for years, and I’ve read a few books about the Missoula
floods which have formed a lot of our soils in this area. So, my wife and I would take trips
and we’d follow the paths of the floods of Missoula all the way up to Sand Point, Idaho, and
down here, and all the way down to Portland. It’s pretty interesting just the way all of our
soils were formed in that. One of the things that I noticed was that the rock patches that we
all have at certain levels around the soil. And for years I wondered, now why is that patch
of rocks there? Did somebody farm this before I did and threw a bunch of rock in a hole?
As I studied more about the Missoula floods, I learned more about the floating ice debris that
came down carrying all of these rocks. And as the flood receded, it backed clear up into this
valley here, as the floods receded, these icebergs became stranded usually on the slopes of
the land”.
Understanding the texture of one’s soils shows how closely these individuals work
with their land, and what tools they use to better understand their local environment. While
most farmers described some sort of textural analysis, others were able to provide more indepth information based on personal experience or education. Half of the farmers related
the texture of their soils to the geological formation of the area, and eleven of these

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individuals described the geological formation of the area in some capacity. While some
had more in-depth knowledge and understanding of the texture and geological formation of
the area, most of these individuals possessed at least a basic understanding of the soil’s
texture and formation.

Risk aversion
Many farmers are blamed for contributing to climate change and land degradation,
and some feel as though they are the scapegoat of many of the world’s environmental
problems (Walder & Kantelhardt, 2018). What must be considered with farming is that
even if these individuals consider themselves to be stewards of the earth, their livelihood
and their family’s survival depends on the quality and quantity of their crops. Many are
forced to choose to receive what an immediate return as opposed to maintaining long-term
environmental health (Boehm & Burton, 1997). Applying synthetic nutrients is a tried and
true method passed on to many of today’s farmers from their parents. With a more longterm approach like organic or sustainable farming practices, the payout may not be
immediate, and risk may be involved when making decisions to ensure long-term soil and
environmental stability in their locality (Bowman & Zilberman, 2013).
With a particular focus on financial risk, I asked farmers to identify any risks they
find with land improvement, countered with risks involved with practices that degrade their
soil. Many farmers discussed the impact of fluctuating markets on their chosen practices,
and they also emphasized how financial stress may limit all what they wish to accomplish
on their land. In addition, I asked farmers to describe their dream farm: if money, labor or
other limiting factors were not present, would they change their management practices?

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These questions help to inform how this group of farmers and land managers view risk, and
what measures they may take to avoid losing their livelihood.
Risks with improvement included financial, time, production and even soil health
for some of the participants. 80% of the farmers interviewed believed that some financial
risk was involved with improving overall soil health. “The risks are your costs. A lot of
the things that we do are expensive. Yeah, we could go out and buy a whole bunch of
glyphosate and do it a whole lot cheaper, for sure”. Other farmers echoed these concerns,
particularly when one first adopts more sustainable practices: “Well, the first risk in
improving too much too rapidly is you spend more than you can get back. Which is reality,
we can’t do it unless we can afford to do it. And sometimes we don’t get to control what
we get out of our product, that makes it hard”. Another farmer identified financial risks
between high and low-income crops. “Another risk with improving the soil is if you see
that its low in certain elements, and you have a low-income crop like wheat on it, it’s a
financial risk to apply more than the wheat is going to use. Normally, you would like to
apply enough to bring the soil up to ‘specs, but economic returns say you can’t do that with
a crop like wheat. On a high-income crop like hops or mint, you give it whatever it needs
to get production. Because that’s the name of the game”.
For farmers in hops, which has experienced a significant increase in demand due to
the growing craft brewery market (Taylor, 2016), they are investing that money into their
soil bank. “Improving it I guess is the cost. We’re in a hop market right now, I think the
best, the very best way to spend that windfall is put that money right in the soil bank.
Because I think now… every conversation I’ve had with the higher-ups, is that really
makes sense is that if your soil is really good, it can help you get through those lean times.

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Milk that soil a little bit and it’ll be a lot more forgiving”. Even with a financial risk, other
farmers asserted that the benefits outweigh the risks, especially if management is on board
with the decisions. “It’s expensive to be so, taking the tests, but I think there’s a benefit. I
don’t know if I could measure it, what the benefit is. If I had to sell this to a boss… that
would be challenging. So if ownership is not on the page, it could look like expenses are
changing drastically”. Another farmer sees these risks as a necessity. “Well, I think its
financial, in the long run, it’s a necessity. If you start cutting corners farming, you’re not
gonna make it”.
Closely linked to the financial risk is production; when changing one’s management
approach, yields may change initially or continuously. Almost half of the participants
identified production as a hazard to improving soil health. “The risks are production, if you
do something that hurts your production out of the industry standards. It is a real chance.
When all your neighbors are using something that works, and they can make a profit at it,
it’s really hard to go against that industry standard and try something new”. This same
farmer explained that his long-term approach may not work for everybody. “I am fairly
cautious with making decisions, so it does take quite a bit of time to make the changes, so
there is an expense involved. We are all risk-averse to some point. I can’t run the farm
into the ground taking chances. Most of the changes, you know, over a 40-year period. So,
it’s not something that’s done [quickly]”. Four other farmers agree that time is a risk when
adopting management practices that improve soil health.
Another farmer saw both time and money as the largest risks but maintains a longterm perspective to justify his management methods.
“To improve soil, because to affect change in the soil, for the most part, it usually takes a
significant amount of time. And it can take significant amounts of money. And the benefits

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may not be immediately apparent. So, that requires the intestinal fortitude to be able to spend
money that’s difficult to see how its gonna pay back in the short term. But if you take a longterm, and they [the owners] want to be sustainable in the long-term. That you are investing
in your soil, will pay off”.
Another hop agronomist admitted that soil improvement is a positive coincidence, but
typically is not a farmer’s main goal. “Nobody has that as the primary goal. The prime
goal is to stay profitable, and if we can improve soils without costing too much, and in the
end, it will improve yield because everything is more healthy, then we can do it… but just
serving the soil is no one’s goal, you know? They’re running farms so they have to produce
things that people want to buy. That’s the main goal”.
Three farmers and land managers believe that if you make the wrong decisions, it
could impact the health of the soil, which would impact time, productivity, and
consequently, profit.
“So sometimes you’ve just gotta trust that the new idea is the right idea. And so, I guess if
it didn’t work, and the way Grandpa used to do it was still better, you’re out a whole bunch
of money, and maybe the bank doesn’t like you anymore… trying new things can set you
back a year or two or three. I mean, you might do some damage to your soil, that could take
years to recover from. Soil does heal itself to some extent, I think, but some damage can be
done to it”.
One farmer believed that implementing practices to improve soil health may inhibit one’s
ability to see small-seeded plants when planting. Another agronomist believed the greatest
risk was wasting data: “The data that we put into it. And if it’s not representative, if its
skewed, then everything is skewed. And we’re not dealing with reality”.
Farmers expressed similar risks when management practices degrade soil; financial,
production, and time were conveyed as potential risks of soil degradation. Few farmers
described environmental impact as another risk to soil degradation. Nine farmers
expressed financial risk as a consequence of soil degrading practices: “No growth, no farm,

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no income. And the bank takes your place and you’re homeless. That’s it”. In addition,
seven farmers described productivity risks as a consequence of soil degradation, which
leads to financial risks. “The risk of not doing it is worse because if your soil isn’t healthy,
it isn’t well cared for, you’re not going to get the yields that you need to be profitable. And
in the end, in reality, any business, whether its farming or whatever, it has to be profitable
to continue”. Even if he loses profit in the short-term, this same farmer would rather suffer
that risk than what he believes to be long-term financial loss with soil degradation. “So, we
can’t ask whatever we want for our food, we take what we can get. So, we have to balance
that, we can’t ignore the things we need to do, but we have to be careful that we do them in
a time-like fashion that will allow us to succeed. And we have to be willing to give up
profit, at least in the short term, to maintain profitability in the long term”.
Most participants expressed a combination of factors that are potential risks
attributed to soil degradation, but many believed that everything suffers with poor soil
management. “The biggest risk to letting it go is I mean everything suffers. Your yield
suffers, you gotta spend a lot more money on fertilizers and you get a lot less out of it. Got
more disease, but letting it degrade, I don’t think people realize how much that costs them”.
Another farmer recognizes that cutting corners or not putting forth the effort hinders leads
to loss of one’s farm. “I don’t know how you get a benefit out of it. It’s like, the previous
owner of this ground, he went bankrupt for a reason… I know why, because he wasn’t
spending any money on soil management… So, we spent the money that he didn’t, and we
made it better. We did the things he wasn’t willing to do and made it better and now we
grow awesome crops on it. If you don’t take care of what you have, God goes, “I’ll give it
to someone that cares, its making me mad.’”.

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Although production and financial risks were addressed for both soil improving and
soil degrading practices, there was a clear recognition of short-term versus long-term risks;
many of the farmers interviewed recognized that some short-term risks were involved with
soil improvement, but most recognized that the risk of losing a farm is far greater if an
individual cuts corners and does not farm with soil in mind. One farmer understands this
perspective but doesn’t blame farmers for doing what they have to do in the short-term to
maintain yields. “There’s a financial risk because like I said some of those pay-offs can
take quite a long time. Or can take time to manifest, and in an age where we’re used to
immediate solutions to problems, that can be a challenge… Now if you’re under financial
distress or some very strict financial criteria, then it’s really difficult to take that short-term
risk. It’s tough on people in that situation. I don’t blame them for what they’re doing”.
Understanding this basic principle, that farmers make management decisions in
order to keep their operation afloat short-term, justifies why many may incorporate
practices that do not always improve soil health (Boehm & Burton, 1997; Doran, 2002).
Society must understand that farmers exist in an economic environment where they are
subject to market demands and may have to cut corners to turn a profit. Misunderstandings
between the general public and this reality force farmers to feel that they are under attack
for ‘ruining the environment’ (Bowman & Zilberman, 2013). If the public were to
recognize that farmers have a deep appreciation for their land and view themselves as land
stewards, this stigma may change.

Market demands
Almost all farmers expressed concerns with being subjected to market demands.
As described previously, farmers do not determine what prices they receive for their crop.

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Many choose to grow high-value crops like hops and mint, which typically face less
fluctuation in the market and are worth more money (especially hops in our current
market). In addition, many farmers choose to grow organically because of the higher
profits they receive (Annunziata & Vecchio, 2016). For those that grow commodity
crops like wheat and corn, though, the highly saturated market may force them to make
management decisions that they may not necessarily agree with (Angadjivand, 2018); but
as previously addressed, it may become a matter of saving the soil or saving the farm in
the short-term (Boehm & Burton, 1997).
“If people understand what it takes to grow a crop… it’s hard because you know the growers
are the ones at the bottom of the barrel… We like farming so much, we do it for nothing and
quite often have to, because the markets fluctuate and if you’re at the top of the market, great.
But the market’s usually not high for very long, because the growers are the first ones to go
out. Boom. They see there’s a need, boom, and everybody will go out and grow it, and
pretty soon there’s nothing. But you certainly don’t see that in the grocery store. And the
processors, and the big chains, are the ones who take advantage of the growers… At one
time, people used to make a living on 40 acres or less, but now, you know, I think the average
growers gotta have at least 500 acres of diversified crops. And wheat growers gotta have at
least 2,000 acres. It’s just a lot different”.
For example, one of the farmers grew organic squash for a large wholesaler on the
West Coast. Like every farmer, she had a margin she needed to maintain for her farming
operation and could not sell her crop for a lower price. She was in competition with larger
farmers in Mexico who could grow the crops for much less and at a much larger scale than
herself. Because she could not receive less income for her crop, the retailer chose to
purchase squash exclusively from the larger Mexican farm. This farmer now grows hay
and is taking time to re-assess her options. Even though there are many dairies in the area
that require hay, she still has to compete with larger operations along the Interstate 90
corridor. This is a common issue for low-value crops like vegetables, grains and forage
(Angadjivand, 2018).

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Apples, one of the biggest crops of the area, is in a low market; new varieties are
coming out, and the demand for these older varieties forces farmers to pull out their older
varieties and plant newer ones (Chokshi, 2018). Since it takes at least three years before
apple trees turn a profit, this is a time of farm closures and consolidation, where smaller
farms are purchased by larger operations that can withstand the financial instability. One
smaller apple farmer expressed this concern.
“…we’re trying to keep up with these new varieties. The old varieties don’t bring in as much
money. It’s pretty expensive [to pull old trees out] and put in new ones… [Trees begin
producing] in the 3rd leaf, 4th leaf [year], well not what you would call a big return but a
sustainable return. When you get into 5, 6 years, it takes a while… what’s happening right
now is certain varieties don’t have as much demand for it. There’s nothing wrong with the
apple, like those Jon-a-golds we took out. It’s just the stores don’t want them as much and
they don’t want to use up the shelf space for them and the demand drops off…”
Four farmers explained that their crop was in high demand, either because of their
choice of crop, longevity in the market, or a combination. As previously explained, the
demand for hops is much higher than some other crops in the region, due to the craft
brewery boom in the past decade (Taylor, 2016). One individual is an R&D specialist and
expressed that he would not have a job if the market was low in his crop. “…Research and
Development, especially in agriculture… it’s an up-market game… It seems that it’s kind
of a luxury kind of thing. It’s an investment, but I think you’d get down to bare bones
pretty quick”. Another agronomist for a hop grower recognizes that markets fluctuate and
discusses that more experienced farmers know that the market won’t always stay up like it
is now.
“…the older generation, the guys in their 60s and older have seen the bottoms a couple times
in their lifetime. And people always go out of business in the bottoms, and those that don’t
got out of business in the bottoms, and those that don’t go out of business have to tighten
their belts so much that it’s just not fun… So now its roughly about 40 in our area. And
they’ve all gotten bigger because they bought when the hop farmer next to them went out of
business and had 300 acres or 600 acres and he couldn’t make it anymore… it’s a

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generational thing of who’s seen the low markets. And the craft brew industry has only come
up in the last 15-20 years… and they’re mad for hops and the price of hops, so it’s been good
money for the hops for the last 5, 6, 7, 8 years. So, anybody that came into it then, they think
its all great. But all the old timers know it’s not gonna last, it never does”.
Three farmers emphasized the regulatory demands imposed upon them, and as
previously discussed, quality control impositions can be a nuisance, as well.
“There’s a benefit to it (Global GAP certification), for sure, but it wasn’t developed by a
grower by any means. So, it’s a weird framework that’s put onto a farm that says you must
do, or you should do, or this is how you should track these things. So that’s always, it’s just
difficult because it’s a different industry that’s imposing that, versus everybody has their own
system in farming. In terms of how they perform different activities, so when an auditor
comes in they can get a fast view within a day’s period of what they want to see. It’s just
tedious to be honest, so it takes a lot of time. I think it’s going to drive a lot of farmers out
of business, or it already has, because they don’t know how to comply…”
Other financial stressors impose limits on farmers’ abilities, including labor and profits.
Half of the farmers addressed concerns with labor, and all of the orchardists vocalized
serious constraints imposed upon them by governmental mandates.
“A lot of these guys make pretty good money out here, they make more than I do. You listen
to these people on TV, these guys are destitute and all that, they make pretty good money. I
have some guys that are making $20 an hour. When they’re pruning and picking apples and
cherries, they make that much money… we’ve always paid over minimum, because you can’t
get them to work for minimum… What’s driven up the price, too, is the H2A program. And
those guys, every time, they have to furnish their housing and transportation and everything
like that.”
Many of these farmers obviously do not wish to impose on the rights of their workers, but
the small to medium-sized farmers feel strapped because they have little say on how much
they pay their laborers, even though their own profits do not increase.
While one vineyard-owner is trying to resist complete mechanization as long as
possible, it may be something he’s forced to do due to a limited work force, and to cut
costs: “I can definitely see us in a few years, you know, picking our grapes mostly
mechanized… We’re resisting as long as we can, but we’re talking more and more about it.

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It’s just the reality of things. You gotta be able to pay the bills and stuff”. While consumer
and farmer preferences may prioritize one objective, the reality of making money
frequently dictates how farmers manage their land (Bowman & Zilberman, 2013).
As mentioned before, profits limit management decisions. One farmer explained
that while their crop is in high demand and they are turning a significant profit, they are
able to invest in their ‘soil bank’. Many others recognize that farmers are forced to
‘mistreat’ their soil during leaner times.
“If you’re not in the black, you don’t stay in business… I think every farm is concerned about
soil health. Everybody that’s farming the ground is concerned about it. And if they’re doing
things that are damaging to the soil health, it’s not because they want to or they feel good
about it, but they have gotten to a point where that’s kind of all they know, the way they do
things and they’d lit to be different but they don’t know how to make it different… if they
got 20 or 30% more for their goods so there was some slack in their budget, then they could
experiment more and take the risk of lower yields”.
In accordance with Boehm & Burton (1997), at least half of these farmers echoed these
sentiments.
Many farmers also cited issues with quality assurance; this involves some optional
marketing standards like Global G.A.P, Organic Certification, and other programs used to
ensure food safety/traceability, environmental and biodiversity conservation, worker health
and safety, and animal welfare (Global G.A.P). The incorporation of some of these
practices have altered the status quo, forcing farmers to confirm to these standards with
little regard to the costs required to implement these new practices. Even though some
farmers did not participate in these certification standards, five farmers described instances
in which quality assurance measures negatively impacted their day to day proceedings. In
addition, 1/3 of the total participants believed some quality assurance measures were tough
on smaller operations. When describing the demands of their hop handler, one farmer felt

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pressured to implement measures that he didn’t believe were fit for his farm. “Anything
that is asked of us, we’re going to do. But I’m not going to be listed to it unless its asked of
us…the less reviews we have the better. I mean, It’s time consuming. We’re not very
big…there’s only 11 of us [right now]” (Leo Loza and Jr.).
The issue of identity and ideology may come into question when farmers are faced
with market demands and profit maximization. As described throughout this review, the
one factor unifying almost all farmers is that they perceive themselves as stewards of the
land and will take whatever measures necessary to protect their local ecosystems and
environment (Sulemana & James, 2014). When faced with feeding their families and
maintaining their businesses, though, many farmers will make decisions that may have
negative impacts on the environment. Because of the difficult decisions farmers must make
to survive, many feel they are blamed for total environmental degradation (Walder &
Kantelhardt, 2018). Many farmers have addressed a short-term versus long-term
perspective on farm profitability; while many believe that conserving natural resources will
benefit them in the long-term, they do not blame their peers for making management
decisions that keep their farm afloat for the next year. Farmers face a number of complex
issues, and their motivations or aversions to implement soil conserving practices represent
the complexity that is their farm system and business.

Dream farm description
There were a number of concerns voiced by the participants of this study; most of
them discussed the pressures imposed on all farmers by market and consumer demands. In
order to see how these farmers would manage their land without worrying about profit or
survival, and to understand how risk aversion supersedes an individual’s farming

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philosophy and farming identity, I asked them how they would farm if there were no
financial or labor-related factors to consider… a dream question. Although this is an
impossible scenario, and seemingly unrealistic to implement, I was curious to find out if
they would farm differently if all restrictions or constraints had been removed. In
particular, I wanted to know if they would farm more with the soil in mind or otherwise.
Because it can be difficult to separate fantasy from reality, some farmers were confused by
this question, especially concerning labor; even so, this question yielded interesting results.
Over half of the farmers would utilize more precision agriculture, or improved
technology on their farm. Some wished to use sensors to measure evapotranspiration rates
and crop health, while others hoped to apply nutrients on a plant-by-plant basis.
“…I think technology is the only thing, if that wasn’t the limiting factor. Because there are
a lot of ways to measure water and filtration and temperature and those things, but they’re
in the ‘unproven zone’. Like we’ve experimented with a few, and we’re like, okay, not
working. The one that we use, we only get to see weekly, which is frustrating because we
want to make our decisions now. So, I think that’s going to change with time, but it’s
really expensive”.
Others foresee more data and precision in agriculture: “So the future is gonna be very very
much more precision irrigation… more knowledge and data driven and precise… It’s
gonna be more of a scalpel than a sledgehammer. It’s probably [not] gonna be like blanket
solutions, but what’s right for this part of the file is not what’s right for where that survey
tape is, and so it’ll be different”. In agreement with Brodt et al. (2006), the farmers in this
study believe that the inclusion of precision agricultural technologies, like customized
spray-systems and water and nutrient monitoring sensors will help farmers increase
efficiency and minimize negative impacts on the environment.
Others would find better ways to collect and manage data over different time-scales.

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“I think the obstacles now are there’s a lack of knowledge in terms of quantifying different
things… that’s why I have a job, I’m trying to quantify different investments, so I mean
there’s a sense that perennial cover crops are good, reduced tillage is good, how does it affect
the crop, how does it affect the bottom line, what are the long-term soil effects, on and on
and on down the line. “I wish I had a guy that all he did, once a week, he went to every
field, was pulling soil samples, you know… If I could take overhead pictures and log it so I
can go back year after year and go, ‘what do I got going different here? I did this technique
and is it paying off? Can I see differences?”
Others asked for better machinery in general, in terms of increased mechanization, while
two specifically would implement less mechanization. “I would actually do quite a bit of
labor that would not be permanent labor, that would be young people. And they would
work through the system. And much more would be hand-done. I think there’s benefit to
that, benefit to the people and benefit to the land… I like mechanization because it makes
life simpler, I think that that is harmful to the soil, I think it’s harmful to society. I think
it’s the biggest problem”. Another farmer asked for better legislation, or regulation that
was written by and for farmers.
Three farmers would farm with soil health in mind, whether it was managing based on
specific soil type, or to farm like older generations.
"Definitely would be out here a lot more, getting a better picture of techniques, whether they
were working or not… I wish I could break it up into 10-acre blocks where I could really
narrow it down. Manage based on soil type, slopes versus the valleys versus the edges. You
know, I’m out here spreading fertilizer right now going over these slopes, up on top of the
bench, down into the valley, and I’m doing the same mix for all three areas, and I know
they’re all different. But I just don’t have the time or the money to differentiate”.
Another farmer would farm like his grandfather:
“I’d probably grow a lot easier crops likle alfalfa hay or something like that because, but I’d
still like to keep the ground in the family, you know. And when my grandfather started
farming, his 3 crops were wheat, alfalfa hay and potatoes. And so, I don’t know, I’d want to
go back to those three… the hay and the wheat would actually give you the opportunity to
improve the soil. And in the past, you know, in the olden days, your soil was your most
important asset, and I think it still is”.
Five farmers would improve overall fertility and nutrients and some mentioned bringing
nutrients up to proper levels for their crops. “…maybe improving the levels in all of the

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soil, that would be one thing. Bring them up to, instead of the bare minimum, up to the
proper level of phosphate and potash”. On the other hand, at least two farmers would try to
use less chemicals. “If money was no factor, I would definitely remove all the chemicals,
not because I’m against chemicals, but I think the chemicals make us lazy… I’d really dig
into how we can do it and do it naturally. Because if there were no barriers of economics
involved, then we could more rapidly discover a healthy way of doing it that would help
the consumer and help the economics of agriculture, too”.
Curiously enough, five farmers would not change much; one farmer said they
would farm the same way, but get there faster, while others said they enjoyed what they
were doing, and that they already farmed with plant and soil health as a main priority. One
farmer believed it was her inherent duty to leave her soil better than she found it:
“…my whole thought on farming is to do it organically, naturally and to the best of my
ability. I was born a farmer’s daughter. Genetically, I have a love for what I’m doing. And
I know the responsibility that I need and have on my shoulders. And that is to make this soil
better conditioned than when I got it. And whoever it goes to, because everything that’s here
is not mine, it belongs to the lord. And so when I die, whoever takes over this soil and works
this farm will have it in better shape than I received it” (Janelle Moses).
Based on their responses, the participants in my study understand that their cohort farm to
survive; if the market or economic pressures are not in their favor, they may have to make
management decisions that could cost them in the short term (Boehm & Burton, 1997).
Even so, most of them are farming with plant and soil health in mind, and even without the
pressures imposed upon them, they hope to improve their soil for the following
generations.

Interview results takeaway
Through an extensive analysis of interview data with fifteen farmers in the Yakima
Valley, I was able to understand many aspects of the farmers’ soil health knowledge, where
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that knowledge originates, and how it is compares to established indicators of soil health.
Farmers interviewed come from a diverse background, but most have gathered experience
from farming through their families, education, experience or a combination of the three.
The communities and networks in which they operate vary, but many rely on each other for
advice and help during difficult times. Their trust in the public and private sector varies,
but most work with some outside organizations for advice or input on their management
decisions.
In terms of identity, the results of these interviews suggest that the ProductivistConservationist dichotomy overlooks much of the complexity that composes each farmer,
farm system and farm community. All farmers, whether perceived as Productivist or
Conservationist by the literature, valued soil health. Most had an understanding of ways to
improve or degrade soil health; notably, all farmers prioritized the accumulation of organic
matter, and understood the important role it plays in overall soil health. Education type
determined the knowledge upheld by farmers concerning more complex characteristics of
soil health, like soil biology and chemistry; however, the majority of farmers had a solid
understanding of soil physical characteristics. This is most likely due to the visible causal
relationships between management practices and soil structure.
Many of the farmers interviewed understand that soil conservation and
improvement is a long-term approach to farm profitability and recognize that there may be
certain short-term risks involved when enhancing soil health. Nevertheless, many farmers
do not blame other farmers for implementing environmentally-degradative practices, since
fluctuating markets and consumer demands make success difficult to achieve in most
farming operations. Nevertheless, when imagining a dream farm scenario in which no

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restrictions on constraints were imposed upon them, many of the participants in this study
would work to maintain their ‘soil bank’ for the future.

Soil sampling results and discussion
For both high and low fertility sites, 150 soil samples were analyzed for bulk
density, percent carbon and percent nitrogen. Samples were collected from 30 different
sites where 7 different crop types were grown: blueberries, grapes, hay/pasture, hops,
mint, orchard, and row crops. All samples were collected in Yakima County,
Washington at a depth of 5-7 cm in a semi-arid climate. I first compared the efficacy of
the measurements themselves as a successful means to express organic matter content in
the collected samples. In addition, high and low fertility samples were compared to see if
farmers accurately described sites of high and low fertility.
It was necessary to identify any correlations between the established indicators of
soil health with the seven categories of SHK defined by the fifteen participants. These
included: demographic factors, education, trust in Internal and external groups, history,
farming identity, farming philosophy, and risk aversion. My first step in this process was
to conduct Multiple Linear Regressions (MLRs) to generate hypotheses based on
potential correlations between a series of categorical variables (farmer responses) with
continuous variables (soil health indicators).
Using analysis of variance (ANOVA) as well as paired t-tests, I explored the
validity of my initial hypothesis, that older farmers, born in the Yakima Valley into
farming families (with at least three generations of familial farming) that are wellconnected to their agricultural communities (specifically through a farm café) will have

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higher levels of organic matter, and better soil health. I used the same method to analyze
potential correlations generated through the MLR process. By combining both soil
sample results and interview responses, I hope to comprehend how the SHK of farmers
can be represented through specific indicators of soil health, and what factors have a
greater influence over the accumulation of organic matter in agricultural soils of this
region.

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Distribution of selected variables

Figure 14: Correlation between BD, %N and %C for HF and LF sites
To measure soil health, I compared results of high and low fertility sites for bulk
density (BD), percent carbon (%C) and percent nitrogen (%N) (Figure 14). As
previously discussed, organic matter is one of the most important indicators of soil
health, since both farmers and scientists are aware of the benefits of organic matter

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accumulation to improved soil quality (D’Hose et al., 2014; de Souza Mello Bicalho &
dos Guimaraes Peixoto, 2016). In order to assess the efficacy of these samples as
measurements of soil health, and specifically, as indicators of levels of organic matter, I
conducted an ANOVA test to identify correlations between the SOM indicators with the
fifteen high fertility (HF) and low fertility (LF) samples. Tables 6, 7, and 8 27 indicate
that all samples show correlation between HF and LF BD, %C and %N. This means that
these measurements are indicative of levels of organic matter and can be used as effective
measures of soil health. For example, the greater the %C in HF sites, the greater the
increase of %N. Also, the greater the BD on LF sites, the lower the %C. With an R2
value ranging from 0.23 to 0.89 and a p-value ranging from 0.03 to < 0.0001, one can say
that all correlations are at least significant28.
For bulk density, R2 values ranged from 0.23 to 0.56 and p-values range from
0.0014 to 0.07; this indicates that bulk density is a significant indicator of soil health
(Table 3). According to Kuykendall (2008), increased soil organic matter content results
in lowered bulk density, which allows for increased water infiltration and retention,
improved soil structural integrity, aggregate stability, as well as friability and tilth. Bulk
density is an indirect measure of soil health, since a decrease in bulk density is not a
direct measurement of the chemical constituents of organic matter. Because of this, other
indicators had even more significant results.
The strongest correlations can be found between HF & LF %C and %N (HF %C
and %N R2 = 0.64and p-value = 0.0004; LF %C and %N R2 = 0.89 and p-value =

27

See Appendix p. 321
Significant correlations: R2 value above 0.2 and p-value below 0.05; Noteworthy correlations: R2 above
0.15 and p-0value less than 0.2
28

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<0.0001) (Table 7). As explained by Dieckow et al. (2007), the most reliable
measurement methods for soil organic matter are carbon and nitrogen and can serve as
the first analytical measurement of organic matter. Specifically, carbon and nitrogen
compose the various forms of organic matter, from sugars to carbohydrates, proteins and
lignin (Bosatta & Agren, 1991). As direct representatives of the nutrient cycling of
organic matter, it makes sense that these measurements would have the most significant
indicators of increased levels of organic matter. Based on the selected indicators, it is
possible to measure soil health as well as organic matter content based on bulk density,
percent carbon and percent nitrogen.

Total sample descriptive analysis
Average BD, %C and %N were compared for all 150 soil samples collected. The
average bulk density measurement was 1.15 g/cm3 with a standard deviation of 0.29; the
lowest being 0.47 g/cm3 from blueberries and the highest 1.68 g/cm3 under row crops.
For %C, the average measurement was 2.72% with a standard deviation of 3.49; the
lowest sample reading is 0.43% for row crops and the highest being 26.3% for
blueberries. %N for the 150 soil samples taken averaged 0.19% with a standard deviation
of 0.13. The lowest sample had merely 0.03%N for row crops while the highest was
0.86% N for blueberries.
Samples showed great variability between farms and farm sites; a key overall
trend can be observed between crop type and soil health indicators. As described above,
blueberries had the highest values for soil health while row crops were the lowest. A
notable finding are the minimums and maximums found for BD, %C and %N;
minimums, or indicators of poorer soil health, were observed for %C and %N in row crop

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systems. Blueberries, on the other hand, yielded the best soil health indicators, with
higher %C and %N and lower BD than any other cropping system recorded. This is an
extremely important point, and the impact of crop type on predicting high and low
fertility for BD, %C and %N will be covered in detail later in this study.

High and low fertility
When asking farmers to identify sites of high fertility and low fertility (or high
and low organic matter content), my results diverge from those found in similar studies.
As a whole, there were no significant differences between either of the three variables:
BD, %C or %N. Results are represented in the graphs below.
1.8
1.6

BD

1.4
1.2
1
0.8
0.6
0.4

HF

LF

Fertility

Figure 15: Paired t-test comparing HF & LF BD
As represented in the graph above, the range between minimums and maximums
for BD for the high fertility and low fertility sites is roughly the same (HF min: 0.66
g/cm3, HF max: 1.60 g/cm3; LF min: 0.59 g/cm3, LF max: 1.5 g/cm3). A larger
proportion of the high fertility samples were below the line of best fit and the mean for
high fertility sites is slightly lower (HF M=1.11, SD=0.28; LF M=1.16, SD=0.26). While
lower BD is an indication of better soil health, there was still little difference observed.

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High fertility and low fertility sites showed virtually no difference in mean BD (R2 =
0.006, p = 0.34)
10

%C

8
6
4
2
0

HF

LF

Fertility

Figure 16: Paired t-test comparing HF & LF %C
Little variation exists between high and low fertility sites for %C, as well (HF min: 1 %C,
HF max 10.36 %C; LF min: 0.56 %C, LF max: 10.2). A larger proportion of high
fertility samples were above the line of best fit (indicating a higher %C); however, the
mean for high fertility sites is only slightly higher than the mean for low fertility sites
(HF M= 2.63 %C, SD=2.4; LF M=2.48 %C, SD=2.56). With an R2 of 0.001 and a p
value of 0.56, there is no significant difference between high fertility and low fertility %C
values.
0.5

%N

0.4

0.3

0.2

0.1
HF

LF

Fertility

Figure 17: Paired t-test comparing HF & LF %N
While similar results were observed for the HF & LF %N, there was slightly more
variation between the two than for %C and BD. The range was somewhat higher for the
high fertility sites than the low fertility sites (HF min: 0.07 %N, HF max: 0.45 %N; LF
min: 0.04 %N, LF max: 0.40 %N). Comparable to %C, a larger proportion of samples
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were above the line of best fit, but little variation can be discerned. With a slightly higher
HF mean value (HF M=0.21 %N, SD=0.11; LF M=0.17, SD=0.09), an R2 value of 0.05
and a p-value of 0.25, there is no significant difference between high fertility and low
fertility sites in terms of %N.
In summary, the collective values of all three variables (BD, %C, and %N) show
very little difference between high fertility and low fertility sites. There was slightly
more variation found in %N than any other parameter measured; this variable was not
significant or noteworthy, though, and will not be considered further in this study. It is
therefore necessary to look beyond comparisons of the farmers as a whole and consider
them on an individual basis.

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Bulk Density
2
1.5
1
0.5
0
HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF
LI LI SB SB NB NB JW JW JS JS WF WF LL LLMMW
MMWAS AS CD CD JM JM MS MS TW TW GG GG SC SC

Figure 18: Average results for each farmer comparing high and low fertility sites based
on Bulk Density.
29

% Carbon
12
10
8
6
4
2
0
HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF
LI LI SB SB NB NB JW JW JS JS WF WF LL LLMMW
MMWAS AS CD CD JM JM MS MS TW TW GG GG SC SC

Figure 19: Average results for each farmer comparing high and low fertility sites based
on percent carbon

29

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Green indicates lower Bulk Density, or higher percent carbon and Nitrogen a sign of better soil health

% Nitrogen
0.5
0.45
0.4
0.35
0.3
0.25
0.2
0.15
0.1
0.05
0
HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF HF LF
LI LI SB SB NB NB JW JW JS JS WF WF LL LLMMW
MMWAS AS CD CD JM JM MS MS TW TW GG GG SC SC

Figure 20: Average results for each farmer comparing high and low fertility sites based
on percent nitrogen.
As represented in Figure 19, at least half of the participants identified HF sites has
having a lower BD. Similar to BD, half of the farmers identified sites of HF with a
higher %C. For %N, however, 2/3 of the participants identified HF sites with a higher
%N. There were only four participants that accurately identified sites of high fertility and
low fertility based on the three specified parameters: there are three hop farmers and one
mint and row crop producer; only one of them was raised in Yakima. They span the
entire age spectrum, with one manager in his 30s, two in their 50s, and one in his 70s;
they are all male. Two growers are owners, while the other two are farm managers for
large hop operations. The participants span the entire range of the educational spectrum,
as well: one of them has the lowest education, having only completed elementary school,
one has some college education, another completed a bachelor’s degree while one of
them is pursuing an MBA. The two larger hop operations are Global GAP certified,
Salmon Safe, and have organic acreage; the other two have none of these.
Five participants (1/3) had accurate high and low fertility identification for at least
two of the given parameters; three farmers identified sites with higher %C and %N, while

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the other two identified higher %N and lower BD for high fertility sites. There are: one
row crop and vegetable farmer, two hay growers (one with livestock), one orchard and
grape grower, and one blueberry grower. These participants also span the age spectrum,
from a 30-year-old producer to a farmer in his 70s. Over half are female growers, and
only two were born in Yakima; all five are farm owners. All five have at least some
college education and one has a Master’s in Environmental Policy. All five are currently
or have been certified organic, while at least one is Global GAP certified.
Two participants identified only one accurate high fertility and low fertility
comparison, while four had no correct readings. There are two orchardists, one hop
manager, one mint and row crop farmer, one blueberry grower, and one viticulturist.
They are between 40 and 70 years of age, and all but one was raised in Yakima. Their
education spans from some college education to a master’s degree, all but one is an
owner, and they are all male. None of these farmers are certified organic, Global GAP,
or Salmon Safe.
There may be a number of confounding factors explaining this lack of difference
between high and low fertility sites, which include: miscommunication between myself
and the farmer, incorrect collection of GIS data points from the field, lack of samples
collected or sampling depth. In terms of miscommunication between myself in the
farmer, the definition of ‘high or low fertility’ may not have been clearly elucidated for
all participants. If prompted, I clarified a difference between high or low organic matter
content; however, there are a number of definitions of fertility (Buneman et al., 2018). In
addition, many farmers indicated locations where I should sample, but did not accompany

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me to those sites. It is possible that a mis-relay of directions or exact location of the high
and low fertility sites took place.
While the GIS system I utilized to collect samples was easy, efficient, and yielded
random sample locations, there were some discrepancies with the collection of data
points. On a number of occasions, I noticed incorrect collection of survey points if the
points were collected while I was in a vehicle (like the farmer’s truck, for example). I
would then re-arrange points on the map at home, while also verifying with farmers that
the correct map had been collected. Even so, it is still possible that some of the sites were
not accurately recorded.
In addition, the sampling depth and number of samples may not have been
representative of the fields. At a depth of 0-5 cm, these samples were collected at the
surface. Gelaw et al. (2014) and other studies collected samples at four sampling depths:
0-5 cm, 5-10 cm, 10-20 cm and 20-30 cm. For farmers with low fertility readings that
were on average higher than their high fertility results, it is possible that amendments
with high organic matter content (like compost, manure, biosolids or other crop residues)
were surface-applied to their soils; the shallow sampling depth may have collected these
higher-than-average OM results. Although I made a point to remove all organic matter
debris and visible compost from the soil core location, it is still possible that some of
these amendments were collected with the samples.
Regardless of the potential for error within these samples, it is still interesting to
identify trends between groups. For those that accurately identified high fertility and low
fertility sites, most were hop farmers, but only one was raised in Yakima. For those that
identified two high and low fertility sites accurately, most were females whom had been

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certified organic at some point in their farming careers. For those that identified one or
fewer accurate high and low fertility parameters, all but one was raised in Yakima, and
none of them were certified organic. In addition, the age and education level spanned the
entire range within each group.
While some demographic characteristics patterns can be observed in farmers that
accurately identified high and low fertility sites, a more striking finding is the lack of
difference between the sites themselves. As discussed, errors concerning
miscommunication or other factors may have affected the results of selected parameters.
On the other hand, farmers may use other indicators to determine the health of their soil.
While studies have found that organic matter is a strong point of connection in terms of
assessing soil health for both farmers and land managers, farmers may use other
indicators to determine soil quality that are outside of the scope of this study (Doran &
Safley, 1997). I suggest that further research into farmer-identified sites of high fertility
and low fertility be carried out to see if organic matter is a useful indicator of soil health.

Multiple Linear Regression
A multiple linear regression (MLR) test was used for hypothesis generation and as
a means to identify potential relationships between the selected dependent variables (BD,
%C and %N) with the seven categories of interview data (demographic, history,
community, farming philosophy, farming identity and risk aversion). Of the 39
independent variables within the seven groups, five showed some correlation. These
include: types of certification (farming philosophy), whether or not farmers used a private
agricultural consulting firm, (community) what their dream farm would look like (risk
aversion), and what type of crop their samples were collected from (farming philosophy).

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It must be noted that with such a small samples size (n=15), it is not possible to make
definite statements regarding the overall fertility of the farmers based on interview
results.

Sample crop type

Figure 21: Multiple linear regressions (MLR) finding correlations between BD, %C, %N
with the sampled crop type .
30

30

Of the six measurements collected, only high fertility BD showed no significant
correlation with crop type
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Crop type, a representation of management philosophy, had the most significant
correlation with the three chosen indicators of soil health. As previously addressed, there
were seven crop types where soil samples were collected: blueberries (2), grapes (2), hay
(2), hops (4), mint (1), orchard (2) and row crops (2). Interestingly, for all 6 variables
measured (HF and LF BD, %C, and %N), only HF BD did not yield a significant or
noteworthy correlation (p value 0.34) for crop type. In other words, based on the
different management techniques employed for each crop, the amount of organic matter
(as expressed in BD, %C and %N) varies. This may also suggest that one can predict the
value of higher or lower BD, %C and %N based on crop type.
Crop Type

Number

HF BD Mean
LF BD Mean
(g/cm3)
(g/cm3)
Blueberries
2
0.73
0.67
Grapes
2
1.19
1.18
Hay
2
1.12
1.43
Hops
4
1.25
1.31
Mint
1
0.77
1.49
Orchard
2
1.22
1.15
Row Crops
2
1.20
1.12
Table 3: Comparisons of high fertility and low fertility sites based on the mean bulk
density (BD) for each crop type measured
When comparing means of high fertility and low fertility bulk density, one can
see that much more variation exists within the low fertility (LF BD Mean) than the high
fertility (HF BD Mean) (Table 3). For HF, blueberries and mint have the lowest BD
mean (0.73 g/cm3), while the other crops are within the range of 1.12 to 1.25 g/cm3
(Table 3). The crop with the highest average BD for HF sites is hops (1.25 g/cm3). For
LF sites, blueberries have an even lower BD mean than the HF sites (0.67 g/cm3) and
mint has the highest mean (1.49 g/cm3) (Table 3).

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Crop Type
Number
HF %C Mean
LF %C Mean
Blueberries
2
7.85%
8.3%
Grapes
2
1.91%
2.34%
Hay
2
1.67%
1.09%
Hops
4
1.99%
1.65%
Mint
1
3.13%
0.91%
Orchard
2
1.11%
1.80%
Row Crops
2
1.62%
1.28%
Table 4: Comparisons of high fertility and low fertility sites based on the mean percent
carbon (%C) for each crop type measured
It appears that the crops with the highest overall %C for HF sites are: blueberries,
grapes, hops, and mint. For mean LF %C, the highest crops include: blueberries, grapes,
orchard and hops (Table 4). The difference between HF and LF %C for the mint grower
is the most significant; roughly 2.22% less C in the LF site than the HF site (Table 4). In
addition, there are three crops with ‘inconsistent’ readings of High and Low Fertility:
blueberries, orchard and grapes had lower %C for HF than for LF (Table 4).
Crop Type
Number
HF %N Mean
LF %N Mean
Blueberries
2
0.36%
0.35%
Grapes
2
0.20%
0.19%
Hay
2
0.19%
0.12%
Hops
4
0.20%
0.15%
Mint
1
0.41%
0.11%
Orchard
2
0.10%
0.16%
Row Crops
2
0.15%
0.11%
Table 5: Comparisons of high fertility and low fertility sites based on the mean percent
nitrogen (%N) for each crop type measured
For %N, there is less variation between crops; the highest overall percentages include:
blueberries, grapes, hay, hops, and mint (Table 5). Interestingly, the mint grower has the
highest %N of any other crop for his HF site, and also the lowest for the LF site.
Although not much difference can be discerned, the HF sites generally have higher %N
than the LF sites, except for orchards (Table 5).

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MLR proved to be a useful tool to determine the probability that soil health varied
with crop type. While variation exists between crops and within high and low fertility
sites, the crops with the lowest BD and highest %C and %N are by far blueberries; this
indicates that blueberries have the best soil health based on the parameters tested. Other
crops with better soil health based on the parameters measured include: grapes, hay, hops
and mint. While this test offered useful insight concerning which crops had the best soil
health, comparing these results using a paired t-test will provide more insight into the
predictability of which crops yield the best soil health, which will be addressed later in
the analysis.

Connections
Understanding the ways in which farmers interact with each other reveals how
knowledge is generated and transferred within groups (Oreszczyn et al., 2010). For my
study, farmers identified four different means of interaction: 1) through their local farm
café, 2) with neighbors, or 3) other groups (Tilth Alliance or the South Yakima
Conservation District, for example); in addition, 4) other participants felt disconnected
from other farmers in their community or desired stronger relationships. Significant
correlations emerged between the types of connections maintained by farmers with both
HF %C (R2 = 0.82 and p-value = 0.004) and LF %C (R2 = 0.89 and p-value = 0.0005)31.
Based on farmer responses, the MLR revealed that there may be correlations
between the types of interactions maintained by the participants and the percentage of
carbon measured at both high and low fertility sites. My initial hypothesis asserted that
farmers who are well connected in their communities of practice (Oreszczyn et al., 2010)

31

304

Table 9, see Appendix, p. 345

will have better soil health results than other farmers. In order to test this hypothesis, I
will conduct a simple linear regression, and an ANOVA test will analyze whether or not
this hypothesis is correct, or if other factors contribute to the correlation between higher
levels of %C and interactions with other farmers.

Certification
Some farmers explained that they are certified with one of the following quality
control and environmental sustainability certifications: Salmon Safe, Global G.A.P,
Organic and Grass Fed. A multiple linear regression considered the correlation between
certification type and BD, %C and %N. Below is a table describing the correlations
between the three variables and the different types of certification chosen by farmers.
According to Table 10, all measured indicators except for HF %N yielded
significant correlations based on certification type (HF BD: R2 = 0.63 and p-value = 0.03;
LF BD: R2 = 0.63 and p-value = 0.03; HF %C: R2 = 0.6 and p-value = 0.04; LF %C: R2 =
0.66 and p-value = 0.02; LF %N: R2 = 0.72 and p-value = 0.008). As expressed in the
graph above, the most significant correlations found from the MLR analysis were shown
for Salmon Safe certified farmers; both Global GAP and Organic also yielded significant
correlations. In order to further analyze these results, an ANOVA of each certification
type will further address these potential correlations.

Dream farm
Much research shows that farmers make management decisions based on their
aversion to risk (Boehm & Burton, 1997; Sulewski & Kloczko-Gajewska, 2014). For
many farmers, implementing a new change in their system presents some financial or
other form of risk, even if it may be beneficial for overall soil health and profits in the

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long-term. Short-term profits and learning curves have been shown to deter farmers from
transforming their current practices (Boehm & Burton, 1997). In order to assess how
specific constraints (labor, time, profit, etc.) impact management decisions, I asked
farmers to imagine their system without these limitations. Interestingly, their responses
showed correlation with some of the soil health parameters measured.
Farmers described 8 different changes they would make if they had no financial
or practical constraints. These include: 1) farming for soil health, 2) improving overall
nutrients and fertility, 3) not changing much in their system, 4) implementing better
technology or precision agriculture, 5) using less mechanization, 6) asking for better
legislation, 7) no chemical use, or 8) using more mechanization. The most significant
parameter was %C, which is explained in further detail in the Table 1132.
While farming for soil health or improving nutrients and fertility were not
significant predictors of soil health, using no chemicals was the most significant
correlation (HF %C p-value = 0.007; LF %C p-value = 0.003) (Table 11). Farmers that
would not change much or would change their technology, either through the increased
use of mechanization (HF %C p-value = 0.019; LF %C p-value = 0.021), less
mechanization (HF %C p-value = 0.028; LF %C p-value = 0.025) or implementing
precision agriculture (HF %C p-value = 0.021; LF %C p-value = 0.021), were also
significant predictors of soil health for the parameters analyzed (Table 11). These results
will be further analyzed in the following section using an ANOVA to determine whether
or not these responses can be used as qualitative predictors of healthy soil for the farmers
interviewed.

32

306

See Appendix, p. 346

By showing a relationship between two or more categorical independent variables
with dependent variables through a linear analysis, MLR elucidates which variables are
either significant or noteworthy for each soil health indicator tested. MLR also serves as
another means to generate hypotheses based on categorical variable responses. Due to
the small sample size of my study, it is difficult to make any concrete statements
concerning which farmers or farm types universally have the best soil. Given the results
from the MLR analysis, though, I believe it is advantageous to conduct a simple linear
regression or paired t-test to compare two factors against each other based on a given soil
health indicator.

Simple regression (ANOVA) and paired t-test
To test my initial hypotheses and those generated by the MLR method, I used an
analysis of variance (ANOVA) to compare responses to categorical variables based on
continuous indicators of soil health. I tested my hypothesis: that farmers with greater
organic matter content would be older, raised in the Yakima Valley, come from farming
families (at least 3 generations farming) and be well connected with other farmers
(specifically through a local farm café). In addition, I compared categorical variables
identified through the MLR screening process, and also evaluated responses using a
paired t-test to identify noteworthy or significant correlations from ANOVA. While both
noteworthy and significant correlations were found using ANOVA, most correlations
were largely attributed to crop type, and therefore management philosophy.

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Age
Initially, I predicted that due to greater experience, older farmers would have
better soil health than younger farmers (Burton, 2014). To test this, I ran an ANOVA
comparing the age of all 15 farmers with all 6 variables: HF and LF BD, %C and %N.
Results demonstrated that age has almost no effect on soil health. As expressed in Table
1233, the R2 and p-values were collected to measure correlation between the given soil
health variables and age. For all six indicators, there were no significant or noteworthy
correlations (R2 < 0.15; p-value > 0.19, average p-value = 0.53) (Table 12). This
indicates that age, is not an indicator of increased levels of organic matter.
While Burton (2014) explained that age could be used as a representation of
experience, others have found younger farmers to be more environmentally conscious in
their management choices. In addition, many other factors, like education and the type of
education received, inform one’s management decisions (Brodt et al., 2006). While age
can be used as an indicator of experience, one’s familiarity with specific management
practices may impede adoption of new conservation techniques; subsequently,
generalized experience may not increase one’s understanding of practices that increase
organic matter content in the soil (Burton, 2014).
As discussed throughout this paper, the reliance of the expert to non-expert relay
of information for many farmers who learned management techniques during the second
half of the 20th century (the Productivist era), many may be more experienced with
intensive tillage and the heavy application of synthetic fertilizers, all practices that have
been shown to decrease organic matter content in the soil (Carolan, 2005; Burton, 2014).

33

308

See Appendix, p. 346

Nevertheless, other factors must be explored to understand what contributes to increased
levels of organic matter for participants of this study.

Raised in Yakima and generations family farming
As previously discussed, Sense of Place theory, one’s ideological, physical and
economic dependence on a specific location, may help inform an individual’s feelings of
environmental stewardship to the land where they work, live, and may have inhabited for
generations (Mullendore et al., 2015). In order to test this for my study, I proposed that
farmers who were raised in the Yakima Valley were more likely to have higher levels or
organic matter than other farmers.
An ANOVA was useful to compare the soil health indicators with two separate
groups: farmers that were raised in Yakima, and others that weren’t; approximately half
of the participants were born or raised in the valley. For most of the indicators of soil
health, there were no significant correlations found (R2 < 0.10; p-value > 0.4); this means
that there was no correlation between most of the soil health indicators and whether or
not the farmers were raised in Yakima. Interestingly, the only noteworthy reading was
HF %N; while the R2 was relatively low (0.18), the p-value was also much lower than the
others (0.12). This suggests that %N measurements taken from the HF plots may be
influenced by the place of origin for the participants.
In addition, other authors have found that one’s farming experience is largely
informed not only by the amount of time one inhabits an area, but whether or not they
were raised in a farming family (Goulet, 2013; Iniesta-Arandia et al., 2014). To test this,
farmers that were raised in families with at least three prior generations of family farming
were compared using an ANOVA. Seven farmers were at least third generation farmers;

309

however, no significant correlations were found between individuals born into farming
families and higher levels of organic matter (R2 £ 0.05; p-value > 0.4). This suggests that
the number of generations of farming within the participants’ families were not correlated
with the six variables measured for soil health.

Connections
1.6

Low Fertility BD (Average)

High Fertility BD (Average)

1.6
1.4
1.2

1
0.8

1.4
1.2
1
0.8
0.6

0.6

No

Yes

No

Feel Disconnected/Want More
10

Low Fertility %C (Average)

High Fertility %C (Average)

10
8
6
4
2
0

No

8
6
4
2
0

Yes

No

0.45

0.4

0.4

0.35

0.35
0.3
0.25
0.2
0.15
0.1

0.3
0.25
0.2
0.15
0.1
0.05
0

No

Feel Disconnected/Want More

Yes

Feel Disconnected/Want More

Low Fertility %N (Average)

High Fertility %N (Average)

Feel Disconnected/Want More

0.05

Yes

Feel Disconnected/Want More

Yes

No

Yes

Feel Disconnected/Want More

Figure 22: Feeling disconnected and organic matter content.
A paired t-test comparing all six measured variables with farmers that either indicated
feeling disconnected and/or a desire for better relationships with other farmers or did not.
All responses were noteworthy, and two (LF BD & %C) yielded significant correlations.

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As previously discussed, four different categories were measured in terms of the
types of connections upheld by farmers: involvement with local farm cafes, interactions
solely with neighbors, feelings of isolation or a desire to create better relationships with
other farmers, or involvement in other groups, like Tilth of Washington or the South
Yakima Conservation District. As a categorical variable, I used an ANOVA test to
compare responses for two variables on opposite ends of the ‘connection spectrum’: those
well-involved in their local farm café, and those that felt isolated or wanted more
connections. Six farmers interviewed expressed involvement or regular participation
with their local farm café. Interestingly, there were no correlations found between
farmers who were well connected with other individuals, specifically through the local
farm café, and increased levels of organic matter (R2 <0.1; p-value ³ 0.28) (Figure 22).
On the other hand, for the four farmers that felt disconnected or wanted more
connections with other farmers, there were significant and noteworthy findings. As
expressed in the figures above and Table 1334, all but one variable was at least
noteworthy, and two variables, LF BD and %C, were significant. This shows that some
correlation can be found between increased organic matter content and farmers that felt
disconnected or wanted more close connections with neighbors or other farmers (Figure
22).
What must be noted is that the farmers with the best soil health, two blueberry
farmers, both felt disconnected or wanted better relationships with neighbors or other
farmers. As expressed by one of the blueberry growers: ““There’s a shortage of
blueberry growers in our area, I’m one of the few. So, I don’t get an opportunity to share

34

See Appendix, p. 346

311

a lot… when we grew apples here, everybody grows apples…it’s a large community of
apple growers, which is a plus, it’s a very positive thing. I do miss that”. This suggests
that while there may be correlations between feelings of separation and disconnectedness
and soil health, crop type and management style may also prove to be the explanatory
variable for this correlation. In order to explore this point further, I suggest that a similar
study be conducted in which both socio-economic factors contributing to SHK as well as
organic matter content of the soil are measured for an exclusive cohort of blueberry
growers. This will help inform whether crop type or feelings of disconnectedness have a
greater influence over organic matter content in the soil.
These results show that for the most part, my hypothesis was untrue. For the most
part, there were few if any significant or noteworthy correlations found between my
selected variables, that older farmers, raised in Yakima, born into an established farming
family and are well connected to other farmers would have better soil health than the
other farmers. In the case of types of connections between farmers, the opposite was
true; farmers that felt disconnected or wanted better relationships with others in their
community had better soil health indicators than those involved in the farm café (Figure
3).
What must also be noted is that the two blueberry farmers, the individuals with
the highest soil health indicators, both felt disconnected or wanted more involvement
within their communities. This could suggest correlations outside of the qualitative
variables measured from the interviews. It may also suggest that since few farmers in the
area are blueberry growers, they may feel isolated or struggle to build meaningful
relationships with other blueberry growers. Since blueberry cultivation employs

312

practices that improve SOM accumulation and overall soil health, I suggest further
analysis of blueberry growers in other more-established areas, and how their connections
compare to their soil health.

Certification: Global GAP, Salmon Safe and Organic
Through hypothesis generation, MLR prompted further exploration into the
correlation between the selected indicators of soil health and the types of certification
practiced by farmers, specifically Global GAP, Salmon Safe and Organic. To further test
these categorical variables, two-sample t-tests compared these three certification types
with the six different soil health variables. Two of the larger hop farmers were certified
Salmon Safe, three participants were Global GAP (the same two hop farmers and one
blueberry grower) and seven growers were certified organic {one row and vegetable crop
grower, one alfalfa and squash grower, one orchard and grape grower, two blueberry
growers (one that is also Global GAP certified), and the same two hop growers}. While
there were no significant or noteworthy correlations found between the soil health
indicators and the salmon safe certified farmers (R2 £ 0.07; p-value ³ 0.34), there were at
least two significant or noteworthy findings for Global GAP and Organic certification.
For Global GAP, %C was the only noteworthy finding for all 6 indicators: HF
%C (R2 = 0.19; p-value = 0.10) showed somewhat stronger correlation than LF %C (R2 =
0.11; p-value = 0.22). This suggests a better correlation between the percent of carbon
(%C) for the high fertility sites than the low fertility sites, and more correlation between
the influence of Global GAP certification practices on %C than %N and BD. What must
also be noted is that the only difference between Salmon Safe certified participants and
Global GAP certified participants is the blueberry grower with the best measurements of

313

soil health. Yet again, crop type and associated management practices may be more
influential than other qualitative variables.
More correlation could be found between soil health and Global GAP certified
farmers than Salmon Safe certified farmers; this is due to the inclusion of the grower with
the healthiest soil. In addition, both high and low fertility bulk density were clearly the
most significant indicators of soil health for certified organic farmers (HF BD R2 = 0.24,
p-value = 0.06; LF BD R2 = 0.27, p-value = 0.05)35. The significant correlation between
certified organic farming and increased levels of bulk density may be justified by the fact
that both blueberry growers are certified organic; however, with a more diversified
quantity of crop types, a greater number of participants that are certified organic, there
may be other factors contributing to the correlation between lower bulk density results
and organic certification.
While no correlations could be found for Salmon Safe farmers and soil health,
some were noteworthy for Global GAP, while others were significant for certified
organic farmers. The only difference between Global GAP and Salmon Safe growers is
that the blueberry farmer with the best soil health was Global GAP certified, and not
Salmon Safe certified. It is possible that this farmers’ high soil health results influenced
the correlation between %C and Global Gap certification. With a more diverse sample
size, certified organic farmers yielded both significant and noteworthy findings; it must
be noted that both blueberry growers were also certified organic, which may influence the
correlation between organic certification and increased soil health. It would be of value
to compare different management requirements between Global GAP and Organic

35

314

See Table 14, Appendix, p. 347

certification within crops to see whether or not these requirements influence the specified
soil health indicators.

Agricultural consultants
Farmers described a number of trusted sources that helped them improve their soil
health. To identify any correlation between the six indicators of soil health and whether
or not farmers used agricultural consultants, which was identified as a possible
hypothesis during the MLR hypothesis generation step, an ANOVA measured the
correlation between these indicators and whether or not it was a determinant of healthier
soil. Significant correlations were found for HF %C (R2 = 0.28; p-value = 0.04) and %N
(R2 = 0.6; p-value = 0.0007); with HF %N having the strongest correlation36. Based on
these findings, one can guess that farmers within the study with a higher percent nitrogen
and percent carbon in their high fertility sites will have worked with a private agricultural
consultant.
According to Oreszczyn et al. (2010), webs of influencers, a wide network of
public and private organizations, have the greater impact on the management decisions of
farmers compared to more intimate Communities of Practice and more-loosely connected
networks of practice. Based on these findings, it appears that the group of agricultural
consultants may influence the carbon and nitrogen contents of sites deemed high fertility.
In addition, Stuart et al. (2018) explored the role played by trust for farmers in internal
groups (communities of practice, e.g.) and external groups (consultants, e.g.). The
authors found that farmers valued nitrogen fertilizer recommendations from individuals
within private sector external groups, like consultants, more so than recommendations

36

See Table 15, Appendix, p. 323

315

from the public sector (e.g. Land Grant university extension offices). Even so, they
trusted recommendations from familiar individuals within both public and private sectors.
For the participants in this study, recommendations provided by trusted agricultural
consultants may impact the ways in which farmers are managing their land to increase
levels of organic matter in their soil.

Dream farm description
As a measure of the impacts of risk aversion on farmers’ management practices,
the participants were asked to invent a dream farm without such limitations as profit,
labor, or other extenuating circumstances. There were seven scenarios presented by
farmers; without profit or labor constraints, farmers would: 1) farm for soil health, 2)
improve nutrients and fertility, 3) implement technology and more precision agriculture,
4) either increase or decrease mechanization, 5) improve legislation, 6) use no chemicals,
or 7) change very little.
The MLR hypothesis generation suggested possible correlations between farmers’
dream farm description and increased quantities of SOM. Most farmers suggested 5 of
these, which were analyzed through an ANOVA: 1) farm for soil health, 2) improve
nutrients, 3) implement new technology, 4) use no chemicals and 5) change little within
their current management regime. Interestingly, all five had at least one noteworthy or
significant soil health indicator; of the five dream farm descriptors, no chemical use by
far had the most significant soil health indicators. What must be noted is that both
blueberry growers suggested no chemical use, which considerably influences these soil
health indicators.

316

Improve nutrients and technology
Five farmers described scenarios in which they either improved the overall
nutrient and fertility content of their soil or implemented new technology and precision
agriculture on their farm. Interestingly, only two of these farmers described scenarios
implementing both methods. For the farmers that suggested that they would improve
nutrients and fertility, LF BD yielded somewhat significant (R2 = 0.25 and p-value =
0.06) while LF %N was somewhat noteworthy (R2 = 0.12 and p-value = 0.20). This
suggests that farmers that would improve overall soil fertility and nutrients had better soil
health readings for their low fertility sites in term of bulk density and percent nitrogen.
This may suggest that farmers who would improve nutrient content of their soils are
aware of their problem areas, and due to the shallow depth of soil sample collection (5-7
cm), are taking steps to improve these low fertility sites by adding organic matter.
For those that would implement precision agriculture or improve overall
technology, only high fertility percent nitrogen was a noteworthy indicator (R2 = 0.14 and
p-value = 0.18); this may indicate that farmers that would implement new technology or
precision agriculture would have better soil health for their high fertility sites in terms of
percent nitrogen.

Farm for soil health and change little
Two other noteworthy or significant findings involved the farmers’ ability to farm
to improve overall soil health or change little in their operation. Three farmers (one row
and vegetable crop farmer, one blueberry producer, and one orchard and grape farmer)
specifically stated that they would implement practices that improved overall soil health,
while four farmers (the same row and vegetable crop farmer, the same blueberry

317

producer, one mint grower and one livestock and hay producer) would change little in
their management practices. Interestingly, two participants identified both descriptions in
their dream farm scenario
For farmers that would farm for soil health, there were noteworthy findings for
HF %C and LF BD and %C (0.13 £ R2 ³ 0.20; 0.1 £ p-value ³ 0.19); however, there
were no significant findings. This shows some predictive value between the soil health
indicators and categorical variables as well as an increased chance that the relationship
between these indicators and the farmers’ management practices are true. For farmers
that wouldn’t change much, HF %C was noteworthy (R2 = 0.18 and p-value = 0.11) and
HF %N was significant (R2 = 0.36 and p-value = 0.02). This suggests that higher
nitrogen percentages can be predicted from high fertility sites than carbon percentages for
farmers that would not change much of their current management regime.

Use fewer or no chemicals
Only two farmers suggested that they would use fewer or no chemicals in their
operation and both were blueberry farmers. All six variables are either significant or
highly significant indicators of soil health; both farmers indicating a preference to use
less chemicals were both certified organic37. According to the NOP, synthetic chemicals
are prohibited for use in organic agriculture; as such, their farming identity, which may
be closely linked to their status as a certified organic grower, may influence this
preference. One major point of contention, though is that both of these farmers are
blueberry growers. As discussed throughout this section, these two individuals have the
highest levels of organic matter due, and it is therefore difficult to discern whether their

37

318

See Table 16, Appendix, p. 347

farming identity or aversion to risk explain their high levels of organic matter. As
previously addressed, it would be useful to conduct a similar study on an exclusive cohort
of blueberry growers.
The dream farm description indicated both noteworthy and significant
correlations between soil health indicators and interview responses; as a measure of risk
aversion, farmer identity and farming philosophy, this question allowed farmers to
consider how they would manage their land if socio-economic constraints were to
disappear (Boehm & Burton, 1997). Some significant and noteworthy correlations were
found for farmers that would improve overall soil fertility and nutrients or would
implement precision agriculture and new technology.
While both significant and noteworthy results were observed for farmers that
would change little in their current operation, there were only noteworthy correlations for
farmers that would farm for soil health. By far the most significant correlation was
observed within the group of farmers that would use no chemicals. What must be noted
is that the most significant findings concerning the limited use of chemicals was
described by both blueberry growers. This suggests yet again that farming philosophy, as
expressed through chosen management practices, may be more influential than other
factors measured concerning soil health knowledge and increased quantities of organic
matter.

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Chapter 5: Conclusion
Integrating soil indicators and soil health knowledge
The previous section has explored a number of ways to measure organic matter
content, understand how farmers identify high and low fertility, and compare these results
with responses concerning their soil health knowledge. My first hypothesis, that bulk
density, percent carbon and percent nitrogen, were all effective measurements of organic
matter content, was correct (Figure 1). Significant correlations could be found for all
indicators measured; since organic matter is also an effective tool for expressing soil
health, these parameters were extremely useful in analyzing the soil of all fifteen
participants. I then compared high and low fertility sites as explained by farmers.
Interestingly, no significant differences were found between high and low fertility sites
for most farmers interviewed. Over half of the participants accurately identified high and
low fertility sites; however, this does not suggest that these individuals have better SHK
than the other farmers interviewed. A number of confounding variables could have
accounted for error, and farmers may not have defined soil fertility in terms of organic
matter content.
Next, I compared interview responses to the selected indicators of soil health; as a
means to generate hypotheses, I conducted an MLR for 39 different categorical variables
identified through the interview process. Possible correlations were identified, including:
the types of connections described by farmers and their work with agricultural
consultants (trust in internal and external groups), the types of certification they

320

participate in (farming philosophy and identity) as well as their dream farm description
(risk aversion, farming philosophy and farming identity).
The most significant finding using the MLR process concerned the crop types
sampled. Based on the mean bulk density, percent carbon and percent nitrogen for both
high and low fertility sites, blueberries were found to have the highest levels of organic
matter for all three measurements. Conversely, annual row crops were found to have the
lowest levels of organic matter for all three measurements (Figure 2). This suggests that
correlations emerged for all three measurements of organic matter in both high and low
fertility sites with the type of crop sampled. In other words, blueberries had the highest
levels of organic matter, and therefore the healthiest soils. This indicates that farming
philosophy may have the greatest influence on soil health of the seven other soil health
knowledge indicators measured.
To further test my own hypotheses and the hypotheses generated using MLR, I
conducted a simple ANOVA and paired t-tests of the potential correlations. Interestingly,
none of my initially proposed hypothesis had noteworthy or significant correlations with
increased organic matter content. While I proposed that farmers who were wellconnected within their local agricultural communities would have better soil health than
other farmers, I found the opposite to be true; farmers that felt disconnected or wanted
stronger relationships were correlated to higher levels of organic matter. Interestingly,
both blueberry growers indicated a feeling of disconnectedness or wanting stronger
relationships, which may have confounded this finding; in order to test this, it would be
valuable to conduct a similar analysis on an exclusive cohort of blueberry growers.

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Of all other significant or noteworthy findings, crop type seemed to have the
greatest impact on potential correlations. This was represented in the Global GAP
certified and Salmon Safe certified farmers; significant correlations could be discerned
between organic matter content and Global GAP certification, but not Salmon Safe,
which is most likely due to the fact that no blueberry growers were certified Salmon Safe.
With a larger sample size of farmers and a more complex diversity of crop types, organic
certification was also found to have significant correlations with high and low fertility
bulk density. For farmers that worked with crop consultants, significant correlations with
high fertility sites concerning percent carbon and percent nitrogen were identified.
Future research should consider how effective both organic certification and work with
agricultural consultants influences the farming philosophy and management choices of
farmers and land managers.
Finally, dream farm descriptions yielded some noteworthy and significant
correlations. Most notably, all three parameters measured for both high and low fertility
sites were significant for the two farmers that indicated that they would use less or no
chemicals in their dream farm operation. Predictably, both of these individuals were
blueberry growers, with the best overall organic matter levels and soil health.
In summary, my results show that farming philosophy, as expressed by selection
of crop type, is the most influential factor in determining one’s organic matter levels, and
overall soil health. While other factors certainly contribute to a farmers’ soil health
knowledge, it is clear that blueberries have the greatest impact on organic matter
accumulation for the top five to seven centimeters of the soil for all sites measured.

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Insights from scientists, farmers and the soil itself
“A Conservationist is one who is humbly aware that with each stroke, he is writing his
signature on the face of the land” – Aldo Leopold (1949)
The participants of this project represent a diverse array of farmers and land
managers inhabiting Yakima county. They differ in their place of origin, personal and
familial history, educational experience, involvement with external and internal groups,
and management philosophy; however, they share a number of commonalities. Most
notably, what unifies them is their sense of identity and their understanding that the
success of their farms depends on the health of their soil.
While researchers have attempted to segregate farmers into either the Productivist
or the Conservationist camps (Carolan, 2005; Sulemana & James, 2014; McGuire et al.,
2015; Mills et al., 2018), the farmers interviewed in this study show that a simplified
partitioning into two ideological camps does not account for the complex set of
circumstances influencing a farmers’ management decisions (Burton, 2014). It is
therefore of utmost importance to recognize that each farmer, farm system, and farm
community is unique. Furthermore, we must also understand that farmers view
themselves as stewards of the land, and their intentions are not to create harm to the
places they call home (Michel-Guillou & Moser, 2006).
As explained throughout this paper, there are a number of factors contributing to a
farmer’s soil health knowledge. While some factors may be more impactful than others,
a complex interplay of demographic, educational, historical, social, ideological,
philosophical and even existential circumstances inform a farmer’s soil health knowledge
and determine how they manage their land (Burton, 2014). This inquiry found that the
most influential determinant of soil health, as represented through the presence of organic

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matter, was farming philosophy. The two farmers that grew blueberries had the highest
levels of percent carbon, percent nitrogen and lowest bulk density in the top five to seven
centimeters of the soil than any other crop type grown.
Therefore, my hypothesis that older farmers, born into farming families, raised in
the Yakima Valley, and that regularly interacted with other farmers in their communities
of practice, will have better soil health than other farmers, was incorrect. Of the seven
factors measured (demography, history, education, community involvement, farmer
identity, farming philosophy, and risk aversion) farming philosophy, as expressed
through preferred crop and management practice, was the most influential determinant of
increased levels of organic matter.
My final question concerned farmers’ knowledge and familiarity with established
indicators of soil health. Their understanding of biological, physical and chemical
indicators varied with education type and duration, yet most were more familiar with soil
physical structure and could easily identify management practices that either improved or
degraded this parameter. This suggests that, as interactive and tacitly-based learners,
farmers were more familiar with visibly recognizable indicators of soil health; regardless
of education type and duration, physical indicators of soil health are more visibly
identifiable than the other two parameters (McGarry, n.d.; Okali et al., 1994; Jensen et
al., 2007; de Souza Mello Bicalho & dos Guimarães Peixoto, 2016; Sumane et al., 2017)
In addition, the three chosen indicators of soil health (bulk density, percent carbon
and percent nitrogen) showed significant correlations for both high and low fertility sites;
therefore, all three indicators can be used to measure organic matter content. As
explained by a number of sources, organic matter is one of the most effective indicators

324

of soil health and can serve as a useful tool for both farmers and scientists (Grigal et al.,
1989; Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002; Tan et al., 2007; Sollins and Gregg, 2017). All 15
farmers interviewed identified organic matter as one of the most important measurements
of soil health, indicating a solid point of connection between farmers and scientists
(Lobry de Bruyn & Abbey, 2002).
This inquiry also examined the epistemological disconnect between farmers and
scientists. I considered how the over-reliance on the expert to non-expert relay of
information over the past century has greatly contributed to environmental degradation
on local, regional, national and global scales (O’Boyle, 1983; Oosterlinck et al., 2002;
Jensen et al., 2007; Ingram, 2008, Ingram et al., 2010; Biel, 2016; Bouma, 2018). In this
regard, the value of both forms of knowledge should be recognized, and farmers and
scientists should work cooperatively to prevent the historical trend of soil and
environmental degradation (Sears, 1935; Wilson, 2001; Montgomery, 2007; Biel, 2016).
The explicit basis of scientific inquiry, which conducts replicated lab and field trials in
order to establish universally applicable rules and laws, must work in conjunction with
the implicit, local ecological knowledge base of farmers and land managers that is
acquired through trial-and-error and experience interacting within a site-specific region
and context (Jensen et al., 2007; Hoffman et al., 2007; Ingram, 2008; Ingram et al.,
2010).
In order to decrease soil erosion, minimize nutrient runoff in our waterways, and
mitigate other negative environmental impacts caused by industrial agricultural practices,
it is essential that farmers and scientists learn to work collaboratively to further their
understanding of each other and the land in which humans inhabit (Doran, 2002).

325

Initiatives like Farmer Participatory Research (FPR) and other methods to bring farmers
to the decision-making table should become the norm. In so doing, scientists can learn
the most effective means to communicate new technology and information and can
identify bottlenecks or non-traditional avenues to increase the dissemination of new
knowledge (Eshuis & Stuiver, 2005; Mwaseba et al., 2009; Rogers et al., 2013; Bouma,
2018). In addition, scientists have much knowledge to gain from farmers and land
managers; as experts of their given locality and region, farmers may have more of an
awareness of the exact ecological processes taking place due to their preference towards
experience and observation (Doran, 2002; Ingram, 2008; Ingram et al., 2010; Dawoe et
al., 2012; Hauser et al., 2016).
By bringing farmers to the decision-making table in terms of the creation and
dissemination of new information and technology, scientists can encourage farmers to
recognize their own forms of knowledge as valid and indispensable (Bouma, 2018).
Nevertheless, farmers must also learn to recognize weaknesses in their own management
regimes, and they should be encouraged to create changes that minimize their
environmental impact (Ingram et al., 2010). In order to facilitate this, socio-economic
research should orient to help farmers transition to more sustainable management regimes
while minimizing the economic impact they may experience when implementing new
practices (Boehm & Burton, 1997; Mwaseba et al., 2009; Rogers et al., 2013).
Farmers and scientists have much valuable information to gain from each other; if
they learn how to communicate and work cohesively, our chances at natural resource,
ecological and environmental conservation increase greatly. In addition, effective
communication can inform scientists of the socio-economic constraints experienced by

326

farmers, and scientists can create tools that are easily adaptable for each farmer, farm
system and farming community.
Recognizing the individuality of each agroecosystem allows researchers to
comprehend the entire socio-economical, ecological and environmental frameworks of
these complex communities. Considering farmers as part of their ecosystems and part of
the framework of their locality will create lasting connections and increased efforts
towards environmental sustainability. Remembering that farmers conceive of themselves
as stewards of the land and do not see themselves as separate from the land they inhabit is
an essential first step towards environmental and natural resource conservation. By
recognizing the valuable role played by farmers in these complex agro-ecological
systems, we can find ways to benefit the health and well-being of humans, flora, fauna,
and the soil itself.

327

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perceptions of earthworms and their role in soil. Applied Soil Ecology, 69, pp. 61-68.
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Appendix

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8

Provisioning Services
Provides food, wood and other fibers
Provides raw materials
Supports human infrastructure and animals
Regulating Services
Mitigates the impact of floods
Bio-filtration of both nutrients and contaminants
Sequesters carbon and aids in gas regulation
Recycling and waste detoxification
Aids in control of pests and diseases
Cultural Services

9
Recreational pursuits
10
Human aesthetic appeal
11
Values of culture and heritage
12
Cultural identity
Table 6: Ecosystem services that emphasize soil function and quality
(as adapted from Bouma et al. 2015)

Correlation
R2
p-value
High Fertility %C and %N
0.64
0.0004
High Fertility BD and %C
0.30
0.0325
High Fertility BD and %N
0.23
0.07
Low Fertility %C and %N
0.89
<0.0001
Low Fertility BD & %C
0.56
0.0014
Low Fertility BD & %N
0.45
0.0063
Table 7: ANOVA comparing selected indicators of soil health
Correlation
Adjusted R2
p value
High Fertility Bulk Density
0.12
0.34
Low Fertility Bulk Density
0.53
0.05
High Fertility % Carbon
0.68
0.01
Low Fertility % Carbon
0.80
0.0021
High Fertility % Nitrogen
0.57
0.04
Low Fertility % Nitrogen
0.54
0.04
Table 8: ANOVA comparing selected indicators based on crop type

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Type of
Number
HF %C pLF %C pConnection
value
value
farm
7
.0064
.0002
café/neighbors
just neighbors
4
.0009
.0002
feel disconnected/ 5
.0009
<.0001
want more
other groups
4
.0003
.78
none described
1
.60
.0037
Table 9: MLR comparing the types of connections described by farmers, the number of
farmers that selected each description and their p-value for both HF and LF %C
Certification

Number HF BD
p-value
3
0.027
3
0.57

LF BD
p-value
0.016
0.45

HF %C
p-value
0.013
0.025

LF %C
p-value
0.003
0.026

HF %N
p-value
0.119
0.148

HF %N
p-value
0.0007
0.018

Salmon Safe
Global
G.A.P
Organic
7
0.007
0.02
0.38
0.16
0.947
0.13
Grass Fed
1
0 (?)
0
0
0
0
0
None
7
0.08
0.38
0.31
0.528
0.672
0.5
Described
Table 10: MLR comparing the types of certification maintained by farmers, the number
of farmers that selected each description and their p-value for all HF and LF indicators
measured.
Noteworthy or significant correlations were found, suggesting a more in-depth analysis of the results.

346

Dream Farm
Number of farmers HF %C p-value
LF %C p-value
Description
choosing this
Farm for soil health 3
0.734
0.562
Improve
5
0.643
0.745
nutrients/fertility
Not change much
4
0.016
0.033
Precision
5
0.021
0.021
Ag/improve
technology
Less mechanization
2
0.028
0.025
Better legislation
1
0.937
0.817
No chemicals
3
0.007
0.003
More mechanization 2
0.019
0.021
None described
1
0.031
0.041
Table 11: MLR comparing the farmers’ dream farm description and the p-value for HF
and LF %C.
For all highlighted responses, noteworthy or significant correlations were found. These include: not change
much (HF & LF), precision agriculture (HF & LF), less mechanization (HF & LF), no chemicals (HF &
LF), more mechanization (HF & LF) and none described (HF & LF)38

Variable
R2
p-value
HF BD
.02
.58
LF BD
0.002
.86
HF %C
.08
.30
LF %C
.04
.50
HF %N
.13
.19
LF %N
.008
.75
Table 12: ANOVA comparing the age of respondents with indicators of soil health.
No significant or noteworthy results were found, indicating no correlation between age and levels or
organic matter

Variable
HF BD
LF BD
HF %C
LF %C
HF %N
LF %N

38

R2
p-value
0.166
0.13
0.33
0.03
0.18
0.11
0.28
0.04
0.01
0.67
0.20
0.09
Table 13: ANOVA Feeling Disconnected/Want More

Significant values highlighted in green

347

Variable
HF BD
LF BD
HF %C
LF %C
HF %N
LF %N

R2
p-value
0.24
0.06
0.27
0.05
0.12
0.20
0.10
0.26
0.02
0.61
0.03
0.56
Table 14: ANOVA certification: organic

indicates a correlation between certified organic growers and better values for bulk density

Variable
HF %C
LF %C
HF %N
LF %N

R2
p-value
0.28
0.04
0.15
0.15
0.6
0.0007
0.22
0.08
Table 15: ANOVA work with agricultural consultants

indicates a significant correlation between farmers that work with agricultural consultants and high fertility
sites and the percent of carbon and nitrogen. Noteworthy correlations were also found for low fertility sites
of the same measurements.

Variable
R2
p-value
HF BD
0.32
0.03
LF BD
0.56
0.001
HF %C
0.78
<0.0001
LF %C
0.86
<0.0001
HF %N
0.31
0.03
LF %N
0.66
0.0002
Table 16: ANOVA dream farm description: Fewer or no chemicals
Areas highlighted in green have a highly significant probability of a relationship between farmers that
would use fewer or no chemicals in their dream farm description

348