What Now, America?

Jill Ettinger

Like most Americans, I’ve been consumed with news about the circus our financial system has become, realizing this is probably just the first act of a much bigger show. And like many, I’ll admit my extremely limited knowledge of Wall Street dealings was never much of a concern to me. Yes, I’ve read Matt Taibbi’s enlightening piece in Rolling Stone (April 2009 issue) and Jake DeSantis’ resignation letter to AIG reprinted in the New York Times. I watch The Daily Show and even caught the hilarious latest episode of South Park where Stan tries desperately to return his father’s “Margaritaville” machine all the way down the line to the Treasury Department. And while I now have a much better understanding of what actually is happening to our economy, I’m even more confused as to what I should feel about it all. If I’m angry, who exactly am I angry with? Certainly the greedy criminals who gambled with millions of people's money deserve any and all punishment that comes their way, but weren’t most of their actions perfectly legal? Should I be disappointed at a political system that bends to lobbyists and corporations that bankroll elected officials so that they can continue doing the things that they’ve done? Should I be chagrined with myself and my fellow Americans for not really paying attention to what we were allowing to happen?

Perhaps because I grew up without much money, I learned to find wealth in things other than yachts, private jets, gaudy jewels or fur coats. I likened those possessions to movie-stuffs, not real goals for real people. I consider myself more of a laughing-listening-to the-birds-on-spring-mornings-singing-songs-in-the-sun kind of gal. Sure, this won’t pay the bills, but it won’t create new ones either. It feels more like a straight karmic exchange of finding incredible value in the simplicity of the moment, and I feel better and clearer and more connected to the world around me when the joys of life come without a price tag. My naivete about the wealthy people allowed me to believe they are philanthropists, spending their time volunteering at hospitals, not really out spending $3000 on a single pair of shoes. That is simply too preposterous to be true, in any economic state.

At times, I’ve had a comfortable amount of savings in the bank, affording me the options of going where I wanted, or buying what I needed from Whole Foods without worrying (too much) about the cost. But most often, I’ve lived needing a regular job just to keep a roof over my head. It seemed perfectly fine to me to measure my riches by waking up in a warm bed and having a hot shower and cup of tea every morning before I start my day. I’m painfully aware of the number of people in the world, and in our own country, who go without these things.

As the market keeps holding its breath, the industry I have made my living in has begun to show the first signs of slowing down since I started working in a food co-op eighteen years ago. My last job, doing marketing and promotions for a leading organic juice company, was eliminated a few weeks ago. It made perfectly legitimate sense to me: operations are key for a business to run effectively, and you must have sales people to keep revenue coming in, but marketing is abstract, hard to measure, especially when every single dollar feels more sacred than ever before. Admittedly, I felt somewhat relieved by the news. I had begun to question the very industry I’d literally grown up in.

From the time I was very young, I was quite particular about food. It’s never been clear to me (or anyone in my family) why I was like this. Maybe because I was the oldest there was some kind of entitlement issue, and I’m willing to accept that it’s possible there were times that I was just being a stubborn brat. But still, that would not explain why I felt horrified staring at the chicken leg on my plate, or why the smell of liver cooking was so repulsive that I impetuously ran out of the house barefoot and carelessly stepped on a bee who stung me. Once, in kindergarten, I was forced to sit in the cafeteria long after lunch had ended because I wouldn’t eat the piece of bread and butter my teacher insisted I eat. Butter has always tasted disgusting to me. I watch people thoroughly enjoy it and know I must be missing some gene or something that would make me hate such an apparently delicious food -- I Can't Believe I Hate Butter. In fact, I pretty much hate the smell, taste or texture of anything that was once part of an animal. This was true long before I understood what being sentient meant, or knew of the egregious conditions factory “farm” animals live in.

Out of necessity, by my late teenage years I found salvation at the East End Food Co-op in the Wilkinsburg section of Pittsburgh, PA. The co-op was (and still is) a community-owned Mecca for the highest quality organic and natural food options. I worked in the café and loved learning how to prepare vegetarian foods that actually tasted good and were healthy for me. I knew I would not be able to sustain myself on French fries and salad as I had for most of my vegetarian years up to that point. As I became more familiar with the companies and products that surrounded me, my disdain for regular grocery store “food” grew. Yes, I became a food snob. It wasn’t intentional. It just sort of happened after being surrounded by such delicious, whole foods daily.

As the industry grew, so did the number of job openings, and I have been extremely fortunate to be offered one exciting opportunity after another. My first job outside of the retail store setting was as a natural products broker. I represented anywhere from 50-100 different brands at a time: from Clif Bars to Organic Valley, Guayaki to Boca Burgers, Yogi Tea to Earth Friendly cleaning products. We were the liaison between the manufacturer to the distributor and retailer. It was shocking to learn rather quickly that my die-hard organic flag-waving was a rarity in an industry of the same name. Various vendors would be riding along in my territory to visit accounts, and they’d want to go to Chili’s or some steak house instead of the salad bar at Whole Foods for lunch. It was horrifying and frustrating learning that people pulling a lot of weight in the business didn’t practice what they preached.

As the USDA organic certification came into effect in 2002, so did the number of brands promoting how-can-you-call-that-food-let-alone-organic products. I remember feeling not unlike I did as a child staring at dead bird parts on my plate while standing in Westerly’s market on 8th avenue in New York City staring at a display of what had to be five hundred boxes of Certified Organic Pop Tarts.

Something did not feel right.

I was so disenchanted by what was happening to the word -- and world of -- organic, that even though I felt everyone should have access to these foods, a Pop Tart would always be a Pop Tart and a Pop Tart, no way, no how should ever be considered food. In the same way the big food manufacturing giants had convinced us that eating “fortified” cereals and breads was as healthy as eating foods that still contain their actual nutrients, I could see the writing on the wall for organic: convincing shoppers that they were somehow taking care of themselves and their families with that Pop Tart because it was (gasp) organic.

Granted, many companies in the industry are not glorified organic junk food pushers. There are also slews of other attributes driving core values and missions of ethical and forward thinking manufacturers. Even Whole Foods has adopted a value system that includes: no high fructose corn syrup, no trans fats, and no artificial colors or flavors or preservatives. And many of the products also contain less salt, less sugar, no animal by-products or animal products processed with antibiotics, growth hormones or other awful factory farm ingredients you find in a bag of Doritos. Many companies go beyond organic and are certified fair-trade, ensuring the farmers and harvesters in less fortunate parts of the world are paid a livable wage. Many companies use 100% post-consumer recycled materials for their packaging, or have significantly reduced packaging altogether. Many companies support various non-profit organizations, foundations and missions dedicated to the betterment of our planet, people and future. There are dozens, if not hundreds of reasons to support a company that is aligned with the principles of being socially responsible. We do truly vote with our dollars. I reckon we’ve learned that lesson all too humbly these last few months.

All that being said, it doesn’t change the mess we’re in.

The other day, I was in line at the ATM machine at my local ShopRite supermarket. Shopping there is a change I made in my life as organic food started to become more mainstream. I opt to purchase as much of it as I can from the local conventional supermarkets in an effort to keep it accessible to the people who wouldn’t shop at a Whole Foods or co-op. And I guess in retrospect, the bubble I had been living in was getting too tight. I needed to see -- and possibly even buy -- the foods that most of America is living on. Even with organic’s explosive boom, sales represent less than 4% of total food purchased in this country. Less than 4%!

So I’m standing there patiently waiting, finding distraction in the giant Froot Loops cereal display I can see up ahead at the end of an aisle, when I realize this woman is taking an extra long time at the ATM. She’s about 45 or so, looks like she probably has a family and is trying card after card in the machine. I didn’t intend to read the screen, but it was one of those ATM’s that you find in a convenience mart and the screen was in plain view and well lit and I couldn’t help but see “insufficient funds” flash for her the two times I was paying attention. My heart sank. I wanted to give her my card or scream for help or say something sweet and kind that would make her feel better, but I just stood there, stunned and ashamed and watched her walk away.

I took some money from the ATM, but didn’t feel much like shopping. I couldn’t shake the image of this woman leaving the grocery store broke and hungry. The $30 or so I spent felt undeserved. Besides, I haven’t had much of an appetite lately anyway. Maybe she could have used my money and I could have skipped dinner that night. And this woman didn’t look like she just lost her life savings to Bernie Madoff. No, she looked more like a life-long victim of a system that separates the Haves from the Never-Wills at birth. She probably struggles to put food on the table even with a job or three, as so many Americans do. Her high-interest rate credit cards were tapped; maybe she was even out of work. Organic or not, she was probably only hoping that her food didn’t have to come from a dumpster that night.

As the urgency of finding steady income has become an unavoidable force I must reconcile, I have found myself at some sort of an impasse. The job I was let go from actually greatly confused me. I was responsible for marketing and promoting juices and frozen products made from a nutritious berry that only grows in Brazil, which is processed and frozen down in the Amazon and then shipped thousands of miles to the U.S. -- while staying frozen -- where it is then re-processed into juices and smoothies, bottled and shipped around the country still kept frozen. Sure it tastes good, and boasts many healthy benefits, but is all that really worth it? Just because a product has a checklist full of attributes like organic, sustainable and fair trade, does the excessive travel and processing ever really get cancelled out? I mean, if there are not good tasting, healthy foods growing within a few hundred miles of, well, anywhere, then we might have some seriously bigger problems to deal with than the economy.

I’ve been looking for work outside of the “industry,” but the truth is, it’s all I’ve really ever known. It feels strange to translate my skills for another platform that I'm not sure I'd even understand or care about at the end of the day. Even when I walk down the aisles of ShopRite or A+P, I can’t help but be drawn to the items that are organic despite my current state of confusion about the necessity of it all. So, this last month I’ve forced myself to purchase the cheapest versions of whatever I need, and as refined as I thought my pallet was, I honestly cannot taste a difference between an organic tomato sauce ($1.19 per can) and the private label non-organic brand (.59 a can). Carrots all seem to taste surprisingly like carrots. And though the taste is indistinguishable, there is a feeling that strikes me. Something deeply visceral confounds me every time I drop an item into my shopping basket, and I think of all sorts of things, like the farmers who benefit from my organic choices. Sparing them exposure to synthetic chemicals and fertilizers is the least I can do to offer my thanks to them for growing my food.

But when the choice comes down to eating organic or not eating at all, well, it’s not really a choice for any of us, now is it? I guess, unless we flip the picture so that organic, local and minimally processed becomes the great tasting, accessible norm. That future though, is still far away, if it exists at all. As it stands now, in the face of the turning economic tides, organic and specialty foods, no matter how much healthier they may be for us, feel like a luxury fit for the pallets of the decadent and greedy rather than for the 200,000 people laid off in February.

Despite the fact that we are currently a nation clipping coupons and making sacrifices, there are a number of reasons to support the growth of organic in our country. There is a parallel between the awakening we’ve had about the selfish greed on Wall Street and the slower one we’ve been resisting opening our eyes to in our grocery stores. The former was too removed and cerebral for a lot of people. Or at least we let ourselves think finance was something we couldn't understand. But I think we get it now. It was as ridiculous as it sounded. A “High Risk” 401K, really means it’s a high freaking risk, as in, “dealer takes all.” People didn’t pay attention to what was going on in the stock market because they didn’t think it directly affected them. And that’s not to say that if we had all been paying attention this wouldn’t have happened. But I think it means that we at least like to know when we’re being robbed. Give us a freaking chance to try and run or wrestle the gun out of your hands before we just give you our wallets. No, this was like pickpockets smiling in our face as they walked off with the American economy, got into private jets, and flew to their summer homes to stash our cash under the floor boards before the butler brings the caviar lunch.

Food of course is a much different issue. Everyone relates to food. We are essentially walking-talking-feeling containers of food, and what we choose to put inside of us becomes us. Literally. It is an identity in the most personal of ways. We abuse it and indulge it like the extension of our personal struggles that it most indeed is. But we also nurture it, raise it with love and respect. We sow it seed by seed in hopes that our grandchildren will one day eat from the trees our own two hands planted. And as hard as it may be to justify in a time when things are scary and even scarce, we’ve a choice now. Either we sacrifice our health, gambling it away by choosing the 2 liter bottle of Coca Cola because it's a dollar or two cheaper than the fresh juice today, but infinitely more costly for our health and our environment down the very short dead-end road ahead, or we choose to become a society that plants, nurtures, and eats for our future.

Like we’d have preferred the situation on Wall Street, we should all want and demand that in-our-face moment with the criminals who keep finding clever ways of telling us high fructose corn syrup is safe, and hydrogenated oils are fine, and that excessive amounts of salt taste great, and that downed cows make juicy burgers, and that eating raw, fresh fruits and vegetables is risky, but less so and definitely more delicious once they've visited a deep fry.

Food should reflect the real costs -- from the chemical exposure that gives cancer to farmers, to the thousands of fossil-fuel spewing miles it’s transported, to the layers and layers of processing that renders it no more nutritious than cardboard -- and then, perhaps, we’d realize that buying local, unprocessed and growing our own is what we’re designed for. It is all that we can afford.

When we realize that we are all the woman at the ATM hoping to find a card with some money left on it, and the small organic farmer sacrificing in order to survive against the big conventional (and organic) agri-farms that can sell for less cost as well as less taste and nutrition, maybe we'll begin to see ourselves as the nation we're supposed to be, so that we may find solutions and advance our world for the next generation. We can protect our assets and ourselves by being prudent and healthy, aware and wise. If we opt to treat our bodies the way we’ve let others treat our money, we will devolve ourselves into a weaker state of compliance and indifference, and let them do it again, and again. We’ve let status and money and make-believe ways of alienating ourselves from each other come to define us. But that’s not us, America. That isn't what we want anymore. Is it?

Photo by John Flinchbaugh, courtesy of Creative Commons license.

Stonehedge Bio-Resources to build industrial hemp processing facility

By Bryan Sims/Biomass Magazine/April 2009 Issue

Stonehedge Bio-Resources Inc. is looking to convert hemp into a viable biomass energy crop. In January, the Ontario-based company received $2 million from U.K. investors to construct an industrial hemp processing facility in Northumberland County, Ontario.

According to John Baker, founder and chairman of Stonehedge Bio-Resources, the company has been involved in the plant genetics and breeding of various hemp species for more than a decade, and has been commercializing the crop for myriad industrial uses for the past three years. “We have found that hemp has multiple uses as a biomass crop,” he said. “It can also sequester carbon and mitigate greenhouse gas emissions.”

Baker anticipates breaking ground for the facility in April or May. Commissioning and start-up could begin within 12 to 15 months after that. The plant may employ up to 27 people within the next two years, he added.

Hemp straw would be sourced from an area of 15,000 to 20,000 acres within a 60-mile radius of the processing facility. The company’s equipment would be capable of processing approximately seven dry tons per hour, depending on the amount of shifts and downtime needed during its first year of operation. “We are aiming at an output of about 40,000 to 50,000 tons of hemp derived from 17,000 acres in our first year of operation, but it will take time to ramp up,” Baker said.

According to Baker, hemp is a desirable biomass feedstock due to its variety of applications in different industries. It could serve as a replacement for pink fiberglass insulation in houses; it could be used to produce “hemcrete,” a biobased masonry composite containing hemp and concrete; and it could be a biodegradable and recyclable fiber-based composite in automobile door panels.

Baker said the company will initially market hemp in Canada as a pelletized fuel that could be implemented at coal-fired plants looking to reduce their carbon footprints.

Stonehedge Bio-Resources may also look into hemp as a cellulosic ethanol feedstock due to the plant’s inherently high cellulosic value.

Green Building Still Set to Grow in 2009

In 2008 the U.S. market for "green" building materials generated sales of almost $57 billion, according to a study from the Freedonia Group, Inc., a Cleveland-based industry research firm. This market is projected to expand 7.2% annually to over $80 billion in 2013, outpacing the growth of building construction expenditures over that period.

Although green building materials are expected to account for an increasing
share of materials used, growth will be driven primarily by the recovery of the residential market through 2013 as it rises from its depressed 2008 level, notes Freedonia.

Forest Stewardship Council (FSC)-certified lumber and wood panels are expected to be the fastest growing green products, albeit from small bases. FSC-certified products are produced via environmentally responsible and socially beneficial forestry practices. As the supply of FSC-certified wood grows, demand for FSC-certified wood panels is projected to more than triple between 2008 and 2013, growing more than three times as fast as the overall market for wood panels.

Other products expected to see fast growth through 2013 include water-efficient plumbing fixtures and fittings, and energy-efficient lighting fixtures. Demand for each of these products is forecast to grow at a double-digit pace through 2013, but account for only a small share of total green building materials market. Over the forecast period, the greatest absolute gains will come from green floor coverings, the largest source of green building materials demand. Green carpets and flooring include Green Label Plus-certified carpets and products made from rapidly renewable resources (e.g., bamboo and cork flooring).

Concrete made from recycled materials (e.g., fly ash, blast furnace slag) had the second largest share of green building materials demand in 2008, accounting for over 15% of the market total. The use of recycled materials in concrete not only reduces the volume of waste sent to andfills, but often enhances the performance of the concrete. Going forward, demand for concrete made from recycled materials is forecast to grow 8.4% per year to $14.3 billion in 2013, accounting for an increasing share of total concrete used.

Global Possibilities

What if the world embodied our highest potential? What would it look like? As the structures of modern society crumble, is it enough to respond with the same tired solutions? Or are we being called to question a set of unexamined assumptions that form the very basis of our civilization?

This 25-minute "What Would It Look Like" video retrospective asks us to reflect on the state of the world and ourselves, and to listen more closely to what is being asked of us at this time of unprecedented global transformation.

Woody Tasch and the Slow Money Revolution

The venture capitalist talked to Plenty Magazine about his new book on “slow money,” building natural and social capital along with economic capital, how to measure abstractions, and what's wrong with the market today

By Ragan Sutterfield

We have been learning all about fast money. From the mortgage-backed securities with little grounding in reality to Bernard Madoff's Ponzi scheme, fast money has been showing its true self recently. Woody Tasch believes it's time to pull the reins back on fast money and create a market that values the environment, local communities, and the natural world as much as it does financial growth. His new book, Inquiries into the Nature of Slow Money: Investing as if Food, Farms, and Fertility Mattered articulates this vision. A long-time venture capitalist and entrepreneur, Tasch knows Wall Street. He is putting that experience to work to create a different model of venture capital through a newly formed NGO called Slow Money, which will invest in companies that build natural and social capital as well as financial capital. Plenty spoke with Tasch by phone from his home in the mountains outside of Santa Fe, NM to talk about Slow Money, his new book, and his ideas for a new kind of economy.
PLENTYMAG.COM: What is "Slow Money"?

WOODY TASCH: Slow Money is an effort to create a new way of steering capital in support of local food systems. It is in part a reference to Slow Food, and it is also a reference to slow money as opposed to fast money—everyone is beginning to understand what that is.

As an organization we have two parts of our brain that we are trying to hold together. One is the NGO part, where we are holding a series of workshops around the country called Slow Money Institutes. We bring together stakeholders in the region—meaning food entrepreneurs, NGO leaders, farmers, and investors to talk about how we would invest slow money in that region. We are building up key stakeholders in eight regions of the country through the first six months of this year. This is in preparation for the deployment of the capital.

On the fund side, we are going to go to market early in 2009 to try to raise $50-to-100 million to deploy in a series of regional Slow Money venture funds as well as in a portfolio of some other leading sustainable food enterprises across the United States. It is a movement trying to build social capital in a region and a vision of what that can be, and then bringing in financial capital. So we are trying to do things in a different way by bringing in social capital before we bring in financial capital.

Part of the problem with the money economy has been its inability to value things that aren't easily measured or monetized, such as clean air, diverse small business, etc. How does Slow Money give value to market externalities?

E.F. Schumacher said that economics is a tool not an end, but we live in a time when economics has been made an end. In order to make it a means again we have to reassert meta-economic values. So you ask what are those values? Well they aren’t that hard to articulate. 99 out of 100 people would agree to what they are: It’s like motherhood and apple pie, it is healthy communities, healthy families, a better world for future generations, ethical behavior, moral responsibility.

So how you bring those things into financial life and capital markets is extremely tricky because capital markets were designed to screen all of that out. Why do we have the capital markets we have? We created these markets because of the particular historical juncture we were at the time. Capital markets and our version of modern corporations and shareholder entitlement and fiduciary responsibility all came from the same mindset that started around 1500, picked up steam during the Industrial Revolution, and took off in the last half of the 20th century. And it’s all about conquest and exploration and exploitation, extraction and consumption and economic growth and standards of living—all of those things together. We created a financial system that optimized for the flow of capital, reduced the risk to capital, and created ways for capital to flow quickly. At every stage we tried to optimize for faster and faster capital, so we could have more and more economic growth and more and more technological innovation, more risk taking, and more “progress” as defined by the economy.

Now we're at a new juncture, and we have to create a different set of capital markets. The current collapse is a warning sign that we can’t continue that historical model anymore. The words "restoration" and "preservation" for me capture the values proposition that you raised. We need to move from capital markets based on consumption and extraction to capital markets based on restoration and preservation. You can call the new markets values-driven, but I would say that they are just getting down-right practical. It’s just recognizing that where we are in history, we have to behave differently if we want to survive—much less live by higher ethical standards. The crucible of global warming and environmental degradation and terrorism and all of these nested issues basically collapses, in my opinion, survival instincts and ethics. I don’t think these things are different anymore. We just have to start acting differently for all kinds of reasons at the same time.

We are at the beginning of that invention process. How would we have a stock market that wasn’t built around maximum shareholder profits over the short term? How would we have companies that more explicitly gave away more of their profits to stakeholders rather than just to shareholders? I think these things are going to happen. There is a lot of energy out there for fundamentally realigning things.

You had a revelation when you heard Adam Werbach, the "sustainability consultant," talk about his work with Wal-Mart.

I was once at a meeting where I heard Adam Werbach talking about how he was working with Wal-Mart as a consultant to green Wal-Mart and how important this was, and someone in the audience stood up and said, “If Wal-Mart really wants to be so green why does it have to keep growing as a company? I don’t understand how a company can be green if it is pursuing unlimited growth.” And that prompted Adam Werbach to answer, “The market demands growth.” That was his answer!

There was something about that exchange that made me act differently from how I had acted before when I had heard exchanges like that. I went home and I said, "Damn it, then we have to create a different kind of market." It’s very obvious. The old market—the market we inherited from the industrial revolution and from the robber barons—demands growth. So let’s create another market and the new market doesn’t have to be against growth, it’s just against unlimited growth that goes beyond the limits of natural and social capital.

In certain communities at certain times, growth is synonymous with progress. At other times, it’s synonymous with congestion and sprawl and overheating and speculation. The idea that the market demands growth is just a blank check for every investor and every company to go out and pursue maximum growth; it's patently absurd. So we need to create another market where other factors are valued by the investors and entrepreneurs who want to play in that market.

This new kind of market is where the Patagonias of the world would live: The thousands of values-driven companies out there that would love to have liquidity and more access to capital, but don’t want to become a multinational company and don’t want to put themselves on the block for acquisition by global corporations. So we have to create a way for them to connect with the many millions of investors who would love to invest in a company like that. And I assert that over time there will be lots of investors who want to play there, and whether they will make as much money as companies that are mining and making armaments and making cars—these investors and entrepreneurs won’t care. They’ll be happy to put some of their time, money, and energy into this market, knowing that it is a lower financial return, because they’ll know it is the right thing to do.

Another theme in the book was the need for a nonviolent economy. You wrote that agriculture can provide the ground for that. What did you mean?

In a recent interview on TV, Bill Gates talked about what a miracle modern agriculture is because only one or two million Americans can feed the whole country. Modern agriculture is often called a miracle because of that, and because of the fact that our supermarkets are filled with a zillion products that didn’t exist a generation ago and seem to last a long time on the shelf and are pretty cheap in general. So people say, "What’s the problem? We have lots of food, lots of variety, and not very many people producing it—it’s a miracle!"

But the modern agricultural system has had enormously violent consequences when measured in things like the destruction of rural economies, the destruction of rural culture, the loss of biodiversity, soil erosion, and unsustainable patterns of rural-to-urban migration. When you look at all of these things, the miracle of modern agriculture doesn’t seem to be such a miracle anymore. We have to look at all of these factors when we assess modern agriculture’s successes.

The process that led to modern agriculture was about 10,000 years in the making. During all that process we have never had sustainable agriculture. We’ve sort of hopscotched our way to greater amounts of food and more material wealth. We kept borrowing from the future each step of the way; we just got much cleverer at our borrowing—using petrochemicals and technology. Now we are experiencing the limits of all of that on a global level.

But the next question would be: Can we really feed everyone without industrial agriculture? I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know that we have to get away from petrochemicals and synthetic fertilizers that destroy soil fertility. That’s part of the answer. Another part is that the majority of the grain in this country is fed to animals. It takes many pounds of grain for that animal to gain a pound of meat, and that process is also incredibly water-intensive. So it's obvious that there is more than enough capacity to grow food. We are just using it in an enormously wasteful way.

The burden doesn’t need to be on those of us who are saying we need more local and sustainable agriculture. Clearly the industrial agricultural system can’t solve all of our problems. The first attempts aren’t perfect, it’s hard, but we have to acknowledge that we have to do things differently now in the face of the global environmental, financial, and social crises we face.

Hemp, Hemp, Hooray!!!

Many people, including U.S. President Barack Obama are looking to Europe to inspire new ways of building and renovating homes in North America. With Obama's new Green Stimulus package now passing, this call for high efficiency in government and public housing could have a ripple effect all across North America. We are currently researching a new building technique already being used in Europe using industrial hemp fiber that could revolutionize the building industry here and use what's basically a waste product from hemp farms all across the prairies. Two companies, Naturally Advanced Technologies and Stonehenge Bio-Resources are investing heavily in industrial hemp for commercial and industrial uses in Canada. It will be interesting to see what comes about, and we are going to stay on top of it. Keep visiting to find out more.

GREEN: Hope. Leadership. Change.

Emily Jubenvill |

At the beginning of the American election race, it seemed that both John McCain and Barack Obama could bring desperately needed action to the climate change agenda. However, soon enough it was apparent that only one of them was true to his word.

“McCain re-entered the fold of the Republican orthodoxy, chanting ‘Drill, baby, drill’ along with the best of the fossil-fuel enthusiasts, while Obama built a compelling program around alternative-energy investment to create viable green jobs…” —Bryan Walsh, Time magazine

Obama sent a powerful message: leadership, climate change, environmental justice and social justice. He brought hope to America and the world—a President in the White House that was not afraid to listen and implement our vision for a better world. A vision crafted at kitchen tables, not in corporate boardrooms.

My reaction to President Obama, as for many other Canadians, is intense and passionate. A thirst has been satiated; someone is listening. I don’t know about you, but I feel like my identification as a Canadian is perilously perched on the edge of humiliation. The direction of our country does not represent my values—particularly when it comes to climate change. Since when is Canada an irresponsible international citizen?

Obama's leadership on CO2 emissions
reductions speaks to Canadians more
than Harper’s sweaters.

Canada (i.e. Prime Minister Stephen Harper) did a great job of rolling over and playing fetch for the Bush administration. We’ve been trained to know that policy shifts in the States will be reflected at home. Once humiliated and outraged at how far our country was willing to follow America (insert shock of Bali here), now I hope we continue to follow their lead. If America can cut their greenhouse gas (GHG) emission to 1990 levels by 2020, and then cut them again by 80 percent by 2050, Canada can too. That means clean energy, green-collared jobs, new energy and transit infrastructure, and much more. President Obama brings strong leadership in a new direction; Canadians have rallied behind him, craving that leadership, charisma and vision. He speaks to us more than Harper’s sweaters.

As I am writing this, Obama is preparing for his first official visit to Canada as the President of the United States of America. There are many items on the agenda for his trip, one of which is particularly close to my heart: the tar sands. Oil from the tar sands emits about three times as many GHG emissions are “regular” oil, consumes enormous amounts of water, is responsible for an Ireland-sized bald spot in the Boreal forest and has so contaminated drinking water as to create a toxic soup for many First Nations communities.

most fantastic concentrations of toxic waste, producing enough sludge every day (400 million gallons) to fill 720 Olympic pools...”—Andrew Nikiforuk, Tar Sands: Dirty Oil and the Future of a Continent

If the tar sands do not wholly embody “dirty oil,” then I don't know what does. President Obama made a promise to end America’s addiction to dirty oil. Today, Canada is the largest exporter of petroleum to the United States.

”The tar sands issue is one of many ‘ground zero’ locations that Obama must navigate with courage if he is to deliver on his promise to lead the world to global warming solutions. Canada is betting its economic future on tar sands development. Tar sands are the key to the endless fossil future being envisaged by the oil juggernauts; and the lynchpin of the national energy security strategy put in place by Dick Cheney.

“It’s not anything [that] can be turned off entirely, but it can be limited; and unless Obama takes a stand to do so, the U.S. itself will fall like just another domino to the consequences of an insatiable addiction to oil: there will be no stopping tar sands development…” —David Sassoon, SolveClimate.com

What if Obama says “no” to tar sands oil? B.C. Premier Gordon Campbell and Harper are working on an escape plan—the pipelines of course! That’s right, pipe the tar sands oil and gas over the mountains and across B.C.—we can ship it to India and China if the USA won’t take it.

“The Enbridge project would carry more than a third of the tar sands’ current 1.4-million-barrel daily production. Producing those barrels would create 15 million tonnes of carbon dioxide a year; burning that fuel would emit 60 million tonnes more…” —David Beers, The Globe & Mail

How is that a solution to climate change? Isn’t Campbell supposed to be some kind of environmental guru with his carbon tax and climate action plan? Actions speak louder then words. These pipelines mean that oil tanker traffic will be travelling down the precarious Inside Passage, through Hecate Strait and up Douglas Channel (where the Queen of the North sank), to Kitimat. When (not if) the inevitable oil spill(s) hit, at stake are pristine wilderness, critical habitat and cultural lands established long before our oil addiction began. Obama can say “yes” or “no” to the tar sands, but leaving it up to him will not solve our problems (and the tar sands are one of many).

Canadians see hope in what the new president has achieved in being elected, and what he is capable of achieving in office. Undoubtedly, Obama’s policy decisions will shape the future of North America’s economy and climate.

As young people, we can root and cheer for Obama all we want, but it is our apathy that in part has lead to where we are today. We need a leader of our own who inspires change and hope!

How can we use the energy and inspiration of Obama that is still fresh in our hearts and minds to take a stand in Canada? People that I’ve never seen interested in politics or picking sides, raised their voices and stood up for Obama—he has galvanized our county’s youth (something no Canadian politician in my memory has done). Now is the time for Canadians to demand a higher caliber of public servant—we need to earn an Obama of our own. We need to share our vision of a bright future—and demand it from our leaders.

Map of proposed Enbridge Pipeline: Premier Campbell and Prime Minister Harper support infrastructure to pipe the tar sands oil and gas over the mountains and across B.C. so it can be shipped to India and China if the U.S. won’t take it. (Map courtesy of the Dogwood Initiative)