Farmers in China’s Gansu
province show off increases in potato yields
The Chinese Ministry of
Agriculture started the year with an awkwardly named but nevertheless
resonating event: at the “Potato Staple-ization Strategy Research
Symposium” Vice-minister of Agriculture Yu Xinrong proclaimed that potatoess
shall become China’s fourth staple food. That netizens tweeted
more than half a million responses on Sina Weibo about this denotes more than
sheer curiosity. While many of the conversations focused on a perceived Chinese
consumers’ tardiness in getting on the Columbian Exchange bandwagon, the announcement could have an
impact throughout the country and affect the ethnic minority regions and the
Southwest in particular.
Historically speaking,
potatoes, an American contribution to the world’s food basket, quickly became a
mainstay on the tables through most of the Old World, despite initial
trepidation among the Europeans. Research suggests they might have
contributed extra nutrition and thus the population boom that brought about the Industrial Revolution.
The Irish Famine ensued, and the rest of history is laced with potato jokes.
Spud Stigma
In China,
however, spuds have largely remained within the category of dishes (菜) rather than the staple
source of carbohydrates and thus energy of the meal (主食). Unlike the other new
comer, corn, which has successfully shed its foreign flair, the name Western
taro (洋芋) has
stuck with taters and is further strengthened by deep-fried potatoes served up
by fast food industry that positions it as a Westernized modern food choice.
The association of potatoes with foreignness has also been brought to the New
World by immigrants, and in a subaltern twist the term potato queen
is used to describe Asian gay men that prefer non-Asian partners.
Besides
foreigners, the other factor that gives spuds a bad name is poverty. An unnamed
researcher has been widely cited saying that potatoes are
the staple food for 75% of China’s officially poor counties, where potatoes are
consumed “instead of cereals” up to half of the year. What’s more– a
lot of that poverty is concentrated in ethnic minority areas: the backward
denizens of supposedly sad places like Yunnan, Guizhou, and Gansu rely on spuds
to scrape out a living.
The reverse
side of the perceived unfortunate overlap between ethnicity, poverty, and
potatoes is something that a southern Yunnanese acquaintance imparted over
lunch the other day: spuds are grown for oneself. Adapted for a wide variety of
ecological conditions and productive even in poor soils and under other
unfavorable circumstances, potatoes provide easy and reliable sustenance. More
importantly, in the words of anthropologist James Scott, potatoes can be
“appropriation-free”: bulky, low in commercial value, and harvested
intermittently, potatoes like other tubers are a good way of keeping the
tax-collectors and their ilk at bay. It is no coincidence that potatoes are so
prevalent in refuge zones as different as Guyuan in southern Ningxia and the
balmy mountain slopes of Yunnan and Guangxi.
Cumbersome taters
While
direct requisition of crops is not much of a concern for farmers today,
especially since the abolishing of farming taxes in 2006, potatoes are
nevertheless strongly affected by farming policies and national food security
strategies. For justifiable historic reasons the Chinese government, which is
linked to some of history’s worst natural and man-made famines and related
unrest, at all levels is extremely concerned with ensuring availability of
food. With national grain self-sufficiency as the core principle, the central
government has consistently demanded and incentivized production of staple
crops through a mix of administrative mandate to grow certain crops, direct
subsidies to house-holders and larger producers, and intervention pricing.
While intervention purchases and stockpiling has been extended to the
somewhat-ridiculed strategic
swine reserve, it still mostly focuses on grains and shuns spuds
because of the difficulty of appropriation.
Unlike
bacon, you can’t just put some taters on ice for a few years, or depending on
the situation either cellar the spuds for a good while or alternatively sell at
a commodities exchange in Chicago if the price is right. Potatoes don’t keep
well and the bulk makes them a lousy commodity for shipping. Despite globally
being the fourth most significant staple (hence the frequent misstatement in
the press that somehow the UN has declared potatoes as one of the global
four staples), the governmental preference for a government-focused
national-level food security rather than rural household level food-sufficiency
has led to spuds falling behind in output growth. However, food security
(what the Chinese government calls 粮食安全, not to be confused with food safety – 食品安全) is primarily concerned
with the provision of food at the national level through market mechanisms
rather than household self-provision. In other words, there is no tater
scarcity at the household level, where those who choose to grow them can have
their fill, but that does not result in peaceful minds behind the planners’
desks.
It is not
to say that potatoes are some sort of primeval anarchist food taking on the
capitalist-with-Chinese-peculiarities hegemony. For one, local governments have
been as quick as ever to get their paws in the potato pot and are pushing
potatoes as one of the options for farming development. According to the
National Statistics Bureau, between 2006 and 2012, total potato
output increased by about 40%. That’s a solid increase of over more
than 5% a year, albeit rather low when compared with the expansion of many
other indicators over the same time period. According to the UN Food and
Agriculture Organization, China is the world’s largest producer of potatoes.
Mind you, the FAO
estimate for 2006 exceeds the Chinese central government’s estimates
5-fold, so go figure on who’s right.
It would
also be a mistake to say that there is much pride in the importance in the
potato in the regions where potatoes are important to the diet. During a recent
month-long research stay with various rural households in Ningxia, I heard
several apologies for offering too many potatoes and not enough rice to the
guest. My insistence that, having grown up on a Latvian potato farm, I gladly
take spuds over rice any time was accepted with a polite smile and puzzlement
over the impossibility of such a statement. The shame of living off potatoes
even by those who grow them is an obvious obstacle in increasing the demand for
fresh potatoes and possibly even derived dry goods.
Technical solutions
The drive
to (let’s borrow a word from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ repertoire) hype
spuds encounters the simplest of economic realities: if there was demand
for potatoes the farmers would meet it despite regulations slanted against it.
After all, regulations have not stopped urbanization and the emergence of a secondary market for theoretically
untradeable farmland. And if indeed the potatoes were
so good for you as some have suggested, the market would have
overcome the consumer acceptance obstacles described earlier and we would be
eating spuds left and right.
The
Ministry of Agriculture’s decision to “staple-fy” spuds should be interpreted
as increased pressure to expand potato production – the stated goal is to
almost double the current reported plantations of 80 million mu to 150
million mu. That’s increase of almost half a million hectares. New
investment in growing technologies and varieties will be made available, which
has predictably caused knee-jerk concerns about potential weakly
regulated experiments with genetic modification. It also means a
push towards more industrially processed and thus durable potato products,
particularly using potato starch that, unsurprisingly, transforms
the crop into long shelf-life products favored by retail supply chain managers
and government food provision planners alike. To celebrate the new
national potato staple-ization strategy, Shanxi potato entrepreneur Feng
Xiaoyan, who goes by @sisterpotato
on Sina Weibo, has launched a product line of potato
mooncakes.
And while
you praise the crackdown on superfluous gifts and thus a reduced (albeit not
eliminated) chance of getting your next year’s Mid-Autumn bonus in the form of
candied fork floss covered potato starch mooncakes, the good folks in China’s
agricultural research and development industry are getting ready to partake in
the expected windfall in research funding and new experiments. Local government
officials and their cousins who own the farming companies are looking forward
to filling their coffers with infrastructure programs and potential subsidies.
A curious
and unfortunate potential side-effect of expanded cultivation is the
replacement of existing technologies and varieties with improved yields with
the accompanying other side of the coin– disappearance of existing livelihoods
and genetic
as well as cultural diversity. While the farmers of hilly dry parts of Yunnan
will not be marching down the streets of Kunming against Monsanto (in fact,
poor Monsanto is unlikely to be able to
stick its finger in this pie), the fact remains that intensifying
farming can leave the growers and the rest of us with fewer
resources for when the bad times of crop failure, pests, or climate
change hit.
Interestingly,
this year’s Central
Government Document Number 1, the annual proclamation of rural and
development priorities, did not address potatoes and did not call for any
expansion of the staple policies to include new crops. The State Council might
not be as excited about spuds as Ministry of Agriculture is. Just like many
issues, this one will be decided in the well-ventilated halls of newly built
governmental districts with limited direct public input. Regardless though of
whether one roots for the spud or takes a more tater-phobic stance, the potato
staple-ization controversy has stirred minds and brought to dinner table
conversation some of the fundamental issues at play in Chinese agriculture,
particularly in the economically marginal regions.
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