Is the Back to the Land Movement Only a Fad? – Various, 8/17/1913
A Cynical Farmer’s View – Freeman Tilden
There is no doubt that some of the people of the United States are going back to the land, and that at no distant
day. They are going back because they will be forced back. The ever-increasing disparity between the amount of
food and the number of mouths makes it imperative that somebody go back to the land, or somebody starve. But
so far as I can see, all the “movements” and “congresses” and “commissions” have effected very little up to the
present day. A body of very respectable persons can get together and talk over the need for more farmers and
better farm methods, and it makes a good showing in the columns of the newspapers the next day; but no one
of the estimable gentlemen in question has the slightest notion of swinging a hoe in the cornfield, or pulling quack
grass with the thermometer dancing around 125 in the sun. There is a well-grounded desire that a lot of people
go back to the land and raise vegetables; but like the desire to see everybody happy, or sober, or wise, or virtuous,
the sentiment is rather vague and elusive. One class of persons usually implored to return to the soil is that commonly
called the “unemployed.” It sounds well to say that our teeming centers of population should send out a few thousands
of the less fortunate citizens to places where they may enjoy independence, good air, fresh milk, and honey thrown
in. Unfortunately, a good proportion of the unemployed are unemployed because they like to be that way; and many
of the others would rather wait for something to turn up that will not remove them quite so far from the region of
moving-picture shows, lampposts, trolley cars, and granolithic sidewalks. They have no greater desire to chase
cows and do the turkey trot on the tail end of a harrow than those estimable gentlemen that called a meeting to
do something for somebody. Parenthetically, it may be remarked that one of the most difficult things in the world
is to do something for somebody. Unless you are pretty certain of the temperament and predilections of the
Somebody, you will have to capitalize your good intentions and take your dividends out of them.
The difference between an agriculturist and a farmer is about this: The farmer is growing things without knowing
very well how; while the agriculturist is telling how to do it, without growing anything. Now, most folks who are
talking about the joys of getting back to the land are agriculturists. They will furnish the enthusiasm if the other
fellow will go back to the land. Farming is hard work. There is a tremendous lot of drudgery connected with it.
If this were not so, there would not be so many abandoned farms. Invention and improvement have removed
some of the drudgery, but there is as yet no machine that will remove a husky stalk of pigweed from between
two shoots of corn in the hill. The farmer’s boy has to reach down and pull out the pigweed. When he has pulled
up about 11,000 stalks of pigweed, he begins to think he would like to move to Boston and be a motorman. To
hear some folks talk about farming, you might get the impression that the farmer walks around his acres once
or twice in the forenoon to see that Nature is on the job, and then rests in the hammock during the afternoon
and figures out the day’s net income. The people that talk this way are either ignorant, or they have something
to sell. Perhaps they have only their enthusiasm for the “back-to-the-land” movement to sell, but enthusiasm
unbacked by practical knowledge may be as big a gold brick as a wildcat mining share. Farming undoubtedly
has its pleasant features. It is one of the most dignified of all labors, as George Washington remarked. Some
have a particular leaning toward tilling the soil. Such are to be envied. But a farmer’s life is a more or less lonely
one, unless the man has that within himself which makes constant intercourse with others unnecessary. And
most people are gregarious; they love to go in flocks. One of the worst results of the visionary, aimless, blank
-cartridge hullabaloo about getting back to the land is that it constantly sends out to the farms men and women
from the cities who have little capital, no experience, and scant fitness for the rural life.
They do not raise much, except, if they are lucky, the carfare to return to the city. They lose their nerve, go
broke, and are altogether worse off than when they lived in their old haunts. They had a dream; they woke
up. And so would most of the shouters for “back-to-the-land” wake up, too, if they ever permitted themselves
to go back for more than two weeks in dog days.
Hard Work Necessary – Elbert S. Brigham
The wide publicity given the back-to-the-land movement during the past 10 years has brought the old-fashioned
occupation of farming forcibly to the attention of the people. The result is that whereas 20 years ago the city boy
looked upon his country cousin almost with pity and regarded his lot as a hard one, we now find the average city
boy envying the opportunity of his country cousin to succeed to the management and ownership of his father’s
farm. If we examine the catalog of our agricultural schools and colleges, we find that a good proportion of the
students are town or city-bred boys who have had no experience in farming, but who are fitting themselves to
become farmers. Conversation, too, with city people of all classes—from common laborers and clerks to business
and professional men—will show that many of these people are reading agricultural literature and have visions
of going back to the land where they may own a self-supporting home. All this has an aspect which is very en-
couraging. No nation can get ahead permanently unless its land is occupied by a prosperous and contented
people—a condition which is likely to be attained in proportion as agricultural pursuits command the respect
and good opinion of the people. In proportion as the back-to-the-land movement turns toward the country districts
those who belong there and have qualifications for success in agricultural pursuits, it is a good thing; but to a
great majority, it must in the very nature of the case be a fad. The chances are that the city boy and the city man,
who has his knowledge of the farm simply from books and papers, is bound to be disappointed. The stories
one reads almost every day of conspicuous success in fruit growing, in poultry raising, in dairying, and in other
lines of agriculture are alluring, but if we could look behind each scene, we would find that each success has
been bought and paid for by good hard work, just as all successes are attained in any walk of life.
The late Dr. Seaman A. Knapp once defined agriculture as being one-eighth science, three-eighths art (or put
-ting the science into practice), and four-eighths or one-half business. This means, first of all, that a successful
farmer must be a student in order to master the principles which govern the growth of plants and animals. Having
mastered these principles, he must do, or cause to be done, the things which will provide for his plants and
animals conditions most favorable for their growth. Accordingly as one mingles knowledge of what to do with
the doing in the proportion of one to three, will he succeed in the production end of farming. For instance, I
have just been watching a fight to keep 50 acres of corn, beans, and potatoes free from weeds. Twenty years
ago these crops would probably have been hoed by hand at an enormous expense, but the present owner of
these fields knew the life history of his plants—the strength and weakness of the plants he wished to grow and
of the weeds which he wished to keep from growing. By harrowing lightly before the planted seeds came up
and by cultivating with cultivators set so they would throw a light covering of dirt around the young plants, the
weeds were killed when they had just germinated. The owner knew just what to do and did it at just the right
time. The result is that at small expense, his fields have been kept free from weeds. But it avails a farmer nothing
to produce a good crop unless he can sell it for enough to cover the cost of production and leave a fair profit.
Herein lies the business part of farming. First of all, crops must be selected which will give a profit under the
given conditions.
Then seeds, fertilizers, etc., must be purchased to best advantage, and finally the product fitted for market and
marketed to the best possible advantage. For the man who can do these things—for the man who is a close stu
-dent of nature, who has the ability to get work done on time, and who has the business ability necessary to get
work done cheaply and market his product to good advantage—the farm offers a fine opportunity to live a life
worth while. But for the man who sees in farming an easy road to wealth, there is bound to be disappointment.
Let those who expect to think hard and to work hard for success go back to the land; let those who expect an
easy time keep as far away from it as possible.
Ought Not to be a Fad – George F. Tegan
The movement certainly is a fad, because if it was genuinely earnest, what explains the last census figures dis
-closing almost no expansion in the farm acreage of the country between 1900 and 1910, and here in the East
an actual shrinkage in the area under cultivation? Massachusetts in 1900 had a farm acreage of 3,147,000 acres,
while in 1910 it had only 2,870,000 acres, a loss for the decade of 277,000 acres, or 9%. What also explains
the ever-increasing cost of the products of the farm, if those who have returned to the soil have regarded the
effort as little more than a fad or whim? There are reasons without number why the back-to-the-farm movement
should not be a fad, but the chief reason is the high prices which the products of the farm yield those who operate
them. The coming changes in the tariff may temporarily depress the prices of some products, and there are sure
to come times when Nature is kind to the point of real generosity and bumper crops will force prices down to a
low level; but a return to the very low levels of 20 years ago is improbable. In fact, it is very unlikely, because
the population of the country and of the world is growing very much more rapidly than is the production of food
-stuffs. The moderate cost of living of 20 or 30 years ago primarily was due to the fact that consumption was not
equal to production. It has been argued—and probably will continue to be argued—that it requires a good deal
more capital than the average city man has to secure a farm, and that a man who leaves the mercantile for the
farm life is worse off in the matter of experience than is the country-born man coming to the city or going into
some industrial community. Of course, it would be folly for a city man to try farming without capital, but the pro-
posed reform of our currency system promises some relief from the condition under which the farmers now labor.
With a more elastic currency than now exists, tight money would not be frequent; in fact, it would be obviated,
and it should not be as hard to place a farm mortgage, nor would the rate of interest be as high as now. Those
who hesitate about farming with a mortgage on the property should remember that the Western farmers, who
now can afford automobiles, formerly struggled for years with heavy mortgages.
No intelligent city man should blunder on the farm when one considers the many branches of farming that may be
pursued and the advice that is freely and gladly given both by the State and Nation. The National Department of
Agriculture is ever giving out hints and instructions of value that may be had merely for the asking, and the exper-
imenting and research of this great department of the Government constantly is solving problems that perplex
those who till the soil. The various State boards are none the less eager to help out in the work. “What shall I go
in for?” Asks the man who contemplates going back to the farm. “Having lived in the city all my life, how shall I
ever get used to the quiet country life?” Answering the second query, it can be said without much fear of contra
-diction that few of the rural sections of the country are now as dull and monotonous as they were prior to the
advent of the automobile and the telephone, while by the assistance of a small engine, it is possible to have
running water in the farmhouse. It is no longer necessary to light the house by oil or candle, since the advent
of the acetylene gas-lighting systems. The country really lags behind the cities in few things. Everybody knows
the country is healthier. In the field of endeavor, on account of the high prices that rule, stock-raising looks good.
There is one principal reason why the hills of New Hampshire and Vermont are not covered with flocks of sheep,
and that reason is the dog. A high dog license undoubtedly would cause a very rapid reduction in dogs and
permit sheep raising without fear of canine ravages. With wool likely to be admitted free under the pending
tariff, it is out of the question to raise sheep solely for their wool, but there is an ever-growing demand for lamb
and mutton as food on account of the high cost of other meats. It is a fact that the consumption of lamb and
mutton now is three or four times as great as it was a decade ago, and it is another striking fact that of the
Boston market supply, the bulk is from the West. Connecticut, rather than the big commercial corn states of
the West, has carried off the honors for the greatest yield per acre of corn.
If that State can accomplish this, the other New England states should do almost as well; and if corn could be
raised in abundance in this neck of woods, hog raising would flourish and our local farmers would derive the
benefit of the high prices that prevail for pork products. Cattle also could be raised successfully in this section
if the feed supply could be secured nearby. Poultry and dairy farming are branches that should appeal to those
who would go back to the farm with an idea of making money. Poultry are bringing better prices than ever
before, and it is predicted that in Massachusetts, at least, this coming winter will see the highest prices ever
known for fresh eggs on account of the new laws covering the sale of storage eggs. Milk never before has
brought the farmer as high a price as it does now, and butter and cheese in the past few years have reached
prices that seldom have been exceeded. There is money as a rule in market gardening, and apple raising has
not been overdone. There is not only the home market for the latter, but in recent years a steadily increasing
export demand. When we consider all these conditions, it is plain that the back-to-the-land movement should
not be a fad, but should spell opportunity to those who would take it up seriously.
The Movement Much Needed – Henry Sterling
No, indeed; it is not a fad. It is a dire necessity. Apparently, we are threatened with a shortage in food, fuel, cotton,
wool, and lumber. In every land, the constant, increasing flow of population from country to city is alarming to the
thoughtful. Only 5% of the workers in Massachusetts are now engaged in agriculture. We are dependent upon
the outside world for the essentials of life. Some of us must return to the soil or all must suffer. Thus far, attempts
to lead people back to the land have proved to be fads and failures, which only indicates that methods were wrong.
That there is a right method is shown by the necessity for action. The movement toward the city is natural. The
motive is noble. A desire, too intense to be denied, for a larger life; for a fuller, broader knowledge of the affairs
of the world and a more active and intimate part therein is the inspiration for the migration cityward. It should not
be hindered or opposed. The movement diffuses knowledge, smooths out the angularities of solitude, decreases
prejudices, promotes brotherhood, and unifies and elevates the race. But there are thousands in the city who would
be glad to go to, or toward, the country—some temporarily, some permanently. The difficulty is that the journey
back is impossible. The transfer to the city is easy. A few dollars above railroad fare and a willingness to accept
any job at any price are the only requirements. Not so with the return to the country. Considerable capital is nec-
essary to acquire a home and to tide over the waiting period between seed time and harvest—much more than
most people have. A varied knowledge of seeds, soils, methods, and markets is necessary—knowledge that the
city dweller never had or has forgotten. Would it be possible to make the trip back to the soil as easy as the journey
to town? If it were, there would be a constant flow between city and country that would maintain a reasonable
equilibrium and obviate both congestion in the one and solitude in the other. The obstacles to overcome are lack
of knowledge and lack of capital. The former the School Board could supply. The latter would have to come from
the State, from private enterprise as a business investment, or from philanthropy. A homestead bill was passed
by the Massachusetts Legislature in 1911.
The intent was that State credit should be used in aid of a movement to establish families in suburban homes.
Our Supreme Judicial Court decided that the use of State funds or credit for such a purpose is unconstitutional.
Yet New Zealand has revolutionized its economic condition by adopting similar methods. In 1893, New Zealand,
with a population of 500,000, was reported as a land of great opportunities and wonderful natural resources,
but with poverty, strikes, tramps, soup kitchens, shelter sheds, and an emigration larger than its immigration.
The Government bought large tracts of land, subdivided them, established families upon them, and allowed
long periods for repayment. No special method of instruction in the use of the land was given, and so the
experiment was not as successful as it might have been; yet the population of the islands has increased to
1,000,000, wages have risen, and the country is now one of the most prosperous in the world. Massachusetts
could easily improve upon the example of New Zealand. The School Board of Boston, or any other city, could
establish at little or no ultimate cost a school to teach agriculture to families. Private philanthropy, business
enterprise, or State credit—or all three—could be used to establish such families in suburban homes. A
multitude of benefits would flow from such a movement. Child mortality would decrease and children would
develop to a healthier, more intelligent, more moral maturity. Tuberculosis and other diseases, whose preval-
ence is aggravated by congestion, might be brought under control. The local food supply would be increased
and improved. Opportunities would be open for all for sane, healthy, happy lives. Along such lines, a “back to
the land” movement would not be a fad, but would be a success. Such a movement is badly needed.
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