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Skip the boring personal stuff - I want to go to Japan
This is a personal story, meant neither to impress or amuse. Although unique in details, it is describes a process that many people have gone through which in the end lets them decide that bigger is neither necessarily better nor worse. That what passes for long-term corporate and government planningrarely extends beyond the next fiscal year, and that we all have the responsibility to better our personal, family and community well being through responsible living.
Enough preaching already get me out of here
Long long ago in a distant galaxy (California in 1959) I was a 19 year old learning viticulture and enology at the feet of the leading experts of the time. They provided me with superb technical training and charted industry pathways to success. I treasure this experience, and my teachers such as Maynard Amerine, James Cooke, Amund Kasimatis, Bob Weaver and Albert Winkler were not only dedicated, they were correct. Look at what has happened to the California grape and wine industry.
However, their teaching reflected the sentiment of their time and place that postwar California. had and would continue to proper and lead the world by stressing economy of scale, optimization of production efficiency and the use of technology to unravel and control the mysteries of life. A certain arrogance and self-satisfaction that now amazes me underpinned this whole attitude.
Some for the "facts" I was taught now seem incredible, but they reflected the contemporary understanding. Here are two examples:
No good wines are produced in Italy.
I hope this reflected a lack of experience rather than real judgment (at that time"nobody" visited Italy, they went to France or Germany if they wanted to learn about wine). In retrospect this seems a somewhat harmless, if ridiculous conceit. On the other hand it may reflect the culture that could produce a musical The Most Happy Fellow that treated the Italian wine-making tradition of the Napa Valley with contempt. One of the Italian-Americans of the time was a simple peasant farmer - Roberto Mondavi.
I don't think my respect for Italy and its wine was harmed by that statement, but a lecture describing Burgundy did more serious injury and better illustrates the power of the concept that growth is the same thing as "progress" (at the time General Electric was paying Ronal Reagan to tell TV watchers that - Progress was their most important product today it looks more like the PCB's they dumped in the Hudson River were their most long lasting product).
Dr. Amerine explained that somehow Burgundy had gained recognition as a great wine producing region, but here wasn't much for us to learn from the region, certainly nothing to think about emulating. Imagine - the average vineyard size was only about 5 acres! This meant each grower's production was just a few barrels of wine. These small wine growers survived only because negociants, who had technical training, bought the individual lots, cleaned them up somewhat and blended them into some quite respectable wine. Remember, I was only 19 years old - I believed that sh...--- uh stuff.
My first doubts of the ultimate superiority and inevitable triumph of technocracy came when I went to Cornell to complete my studies. Cornell viticulturists were considered to be quite good, almost as good as California ones.
Although I committed to enduring New York for 3 years, I didn't expect to enjoy it, and I certainly intended to get back to civilization as soon as possible.
My first experiences reinforced my prejudices. As part of an Ag. Econ. class I visited a farm which grew apples and a few grapes. I was supposed to analyze its structure and make constructive suggestions. Now I had learned about economics. In California I had been told that you needed 150 acres of grapes to be an economically viable production unit (unfortunately the average grape grower at that time only had about 40 acres, but market forces would "correct" this situation sooner rather than later).
This poor New York farmer was trying to support his family on 20 acres of apples, some vegetables and 15 acres of grapes. They had some sort of road side stand where they sold part of their produce. In my mind I pictured what I would find. Something like the TV images of Appalachia we were shown. A couple of rusty cars and an outhouse in the yard. Several shirttail kids without shoes, but with runny noses, a hungry looking cow and a lot of loose chickens running around. I knew the grower was going to be given a copy of our report when it was finished; I worried how to break the news to this poor guy that he was going to have to get bigger or get out.
Reality didn't fit my snooty preconceptions very well. I found a neat, if not overly impressive farm with a small stand and a couple kids who looked just like my two. I still didn't see how such an operation could survive, let alone generate enough profit to raise a family.
After going over the books, I was amazed to find out that this farm wasn't surviving by eating up its equity. It was not only making more income than I was as a graduate student, it was making more money than I had when gainfully employed as a technician. I began to realize there was more than one path to profitable farming. These people were doing Total Quality Management and selling the sizzle long before they became the gospel of the 90's. They had selected their products to fit the wants of their customers, they provided a warm, comfortable ambience, they produced high quality and then reaped the benefit of selling retail rather than wholesale. This operation didn't have to get bigger to get better.
Upon completing my studies, I was offered a permanent job doing research for NY grape growers. My California friends and family were shocked when I accepted it. I had found that I liked most of the people, was more than interested in the challenge of the job and enjoyed escaping from the boom town climate of the west. I didn't mind the weather too much, blizzards are sort of exciting, and I really enjoyed not having to spend the majority of my day looking for a parking spot.
My research priorities were set by the "industry". For funding purposes, industry means large fruit buyers, most whom are processors. Their priorities were the ones I had been taught in California - efficiency was the keyword. If the growers could afford to sell their grapes cheaply enough (that is what efficiency means to these guys), then the processors would be able compete in the marketplace. Survival meant reducing cost of production.
My research and that done by others has had its intended impact. Remember I told you that when I left California, the bean counters were saying that an efficient grape operation was 140 acres, but that the typical vineyard operation was 40 acres. Well when I started in New York, our bean counters said that 40 acres was the minimum efficient size for grape production. The only problem was that the typical vineyard in NY was 25 rather than 40 acres.
Well, we have helped. Today we'er told the efficient vineyard size in New York is 140 acres, and the median vineyard size has increased to almost 50 acres. What does all this success mean? First, some families can still plan on making their living growing grapes. Because we are looking at 2, 3, 4 and even 5 generation grape growing families, that is important. However, it also means that fewer families can expect to make their living solely by producing traditional grape varieties and selling their grapes to large juice or wine processors. During the period in question the number of vineyards in the state has just about halved.
What else have we accomplished? Well although we haven't contributed as much to rural depopulation as have dairy specialists, we have seen a 30% reduction of grape acres and a 50% reduction in grape growers. In spite of this total grape production in the state has stayed almost constant. Talk about efficiency. The price for grapes has stayed about the same during this period too, unless you consider inflation. In terms of real (non-inflated) dollars, the value of the grapes is much less than when I started my career.
(for more on NY's grape plantings see)
What does this have to do with Burgundy or Japan? I got to Burgundy long before I spent time in Japan. I was guided around the region by M. Raymond Berrnard, a man who had spent 35 years selecting improved forms (clones) of the local grape varieties and teaching viticulture in the technical institute. As a result he was known and respected by almost every winegrower in Burgundy. As we rode along I would ask M. Bernard questions about production and quality issues. He answered my questions by looking outside the window until he saw a former student. This took as long a 8 minutes, but usually much less than that. He would stop the car, introduce me to the individual and relay my question. In answer the winegrower would invite me into his cellar to let his wines make the reply. In addition to learning a lot about how Burgundians produce their wines, I had a chance to see these pitiful 5 acre operations up close.
The Burgundy of 1975 didn't look anything like the image I had been given in 1959. The "facts" were mostly verified, but the culture and economy had been grossly misrepresented. In reality of the Cote d'Or consists of miles of carefully groomed vineyard interspersed with villages bearing names I usually only associated with fine wine labels. The houses in the villages are surrounded by walls. When you enter the gate to the street, you often find yourself in a farmyard. A shed with tractor and other equipment on the left, a house on the right and a winebulding to the rear of the house. The winery is small scale, but not amateurish. It has up-to date equipment complete with a small lab and a shelf full of technical books. In the cellar under the premises are tiers of bottles filled with different vintages. Usually there is a new Mercedes car is parked next to the tractor. These lousy little 5 acre ventures produced wine that college professors can only afford on special rare occasions. The whole country side is beautiful and the local economy prosperous.
What really struck me was the extent to which the environment felt like upstate New York. The light, the weeds, the native trees all felt like home. I had just come from Bordeaux where I had similar feelings of familiarity, but with Davis, California, not Geneva, New York.
This is when I began to develop what I think of as my Burgundy model for New York grape growers. New York is not Burgundy and can't (yet) command Burgundy prices, but a farmer who becomes a wine grower rather than a grape grower puts him/herself in a different economic playing field. Premium wine grapes are worth about ten times more than standard quality New York wine or juice grapes. They require more time and effort, but that makes them suited to a smaller operation. If the decision is to produce and sell wine rather than grapes, the returns are even better. The poor 25 acre grape grower can become a prosperous 25 acre wine producer. In the process this operation supports additional families in the community who are involved in related supply and tourism industries.
I am proud that I have had a part in helping growers become more competitive, but to the extent that I can help them become producers of more valuable products and contribute to preserving and enhancing the rural landscapes and economies I will feel that my career has been worthwhile.
What the heck does this have to do with Japan? Well these Burgundy model ideas were sort of rattling back and forth between my conscious and subconscious until I spent 8 weeks in Japan reviewing their fruit production research programs. I came to realize that the Japanese had taken the value added concept even further than the Burgundians.
Like the Burgundians, they had identified what consumers valued and used a combination of labor, superior knowledge and an artistic understanding to make a respectable living from tiny land holdings.
The typical Japanese farm is about one acre in size. According to local statistics, in 1994, the average family income in Yamanashi prefecture, the largest grape producing region of Japan, was about $62,000. I asked my hosts if a grape grower with a one acre farm would be able to make an income of $60,000 or more. I was assured that this was not only feasible, it was expected. My efficiency of scale which requires 150 acres and great investment in machinery, pesticides, fertilizer and land is reduced to 1 acre of intensely managed vines.
The associated web pages are meant to show how Japanese fruit growing works. It is not meant to encourage people to try to grow grapes here the way that they are grown in Japan, nor do I suggest that we should try to break into the Japanese grape market. I do hope that people will look to the success of Japan's fruit growers and devise a New York production system which is also based upon art, industry and enterprise to help sustain a prosperous and sustainable rural economy.
That's it - take a look at the documents
© Copyright 2000 Robert Pool