In this series, the lads reflect on a year of Eating the Elephant.
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For four weeks in May-June 2023, my Nuffield farming scholarship sling-shotted me and 11 other scholars across Singapore, Japan, Israel, the Netherlands and the United States. In a jet-lagged blur of skyscraper gardens, rice paddies, desert kibbutzes, hi-tech greenhouses, family farms, government boardrooms and endless almond trees, we saw, touched and tasted our way through an incredible menu of food and farming systems.
On reflection, it probably wasn’t the best time to start a Farmers Weekly column. But, like most things, this one also righted from a wobbly start and a year later, here we are. Thanks for sticking with us.
For me, that Nuffield global experience and Eating the Elephant are inextricably linked. Much of the fodder for this column started life as scribbles in page margins and “aha” moments in some farm, factory or hotel lobby abroad. In looking back on a year of Eating the Elephant, I thought I would share my two big takeouts from that once-in-a-lifetime food and farming experience.
The first take-out struck as we ambled the 50 metres between a 16 hectare greenhouse capsicum operation and a small artisan goat cheese farm and café. Thank you Holland. Both of these places are farms and both farms are profitable. But their core features, strengths and challenges couldn’t be more different. I started using the terms “calorie farms” and “connection farms” as a rough mental model to investigate these side by side, but worlds apart operations.
“Calorie farms” generally innovate through hard skills (for example, technology), can be reliant on immigrant labour, thrived through covid, run high capital, high energy, high return business models and sell into long supply chains.
“Connection farms” generally innovate through soft skills (community collaboration,, for example), can attract volunteers, were very exposed to covid and seasonal downturns, operate low capital, low energy, low returns models and capture value with direct to customer sales.
Coming from a young country geared toward Calorie models, it was interesting to see how older societies value these smaller, citizen-orientated Connection farms. These nations had generally developed policy frameworks (some better than others and never without pushback) that tried to strike a balance between the two.
We’ll need both types of farms as we hit the environmental, social and economic challenges ahead. Calorie farms keep food affordable, can resist shocks and support global food security needs. Connection farms serve as places for citizens to learn, recreate and engage with nature – driving the cultural transformations we desperately need like redesigning waste, deriving wellbeing through community and nature and seasonal eating.
In New Zealand, our leadership structures, support systems, policy frameworks and infrastructure are all set up for the export-oriented Calorie systems. We are pretty unbalanced here.
My second big take-out came under the beating sun of the Sinai desert. At Neot Samadar, hundreds of people have farmed together for 50 years in some of the toughest conditions on earth. Like other kibbutzes across Israel, this community collectively manage their land. Their greatest challenge isn’t water, heat, markets or disease. It’s each other. They understand that their business and way of life run on soft skills.
Members are hyper aware for signs of conflict, faction building, loneliness or other signs of tension. When these do arise, members intervene softly – only progressing to formal interventions like meetings as a last resort. Leadership roles change regularly to give emerging members opportunities to grow. Time together as a group is prioritised above anything that happens on farm. Big decisions are made only with full consensus, necessitating long periods of discussion and perspective sharing.
Their culture is the engine of their business success. They talk little of corporate strategy. Instead, individuals are encouraged to explore new diversifications, with their business case reviewed from every perspective through the long consensus decision making. When they move, they move with the full weight of the community. Today the kibbutz’s business stretches across hospitality, tourism, renewable energy, horticulture, art & design education and a thriving consumer health drink brand. All done in the heat of the desert, two hours away from nearest major town.
We love a strategy in food and fibre in New Zealand. We tend to focus our time trying to understand our markets, design products or refine our systems – and we’re pretty good at it.
We’re less adept at reflecting on our teams or sector culture and dedicating resources specifically to nurturing it. Indeed the places where culture forms – field days, one-to-one time, team and community forums, catchment meetings, open days, days off – can be some of the first things to slip in favour of more “productive” work.
With its relentless, unapologetic, structured prioritisation of relationships and people, Kibbutz Neot Samadar demonstrates what relentlessly focusing on culture looks like, and what it can achieve.
A huge thank you to Nuffield New Zealand for this incredible opportunity. I highly encourage anyone considering it to have a go. The 2025 deadline for registrations closes August 18. Get among it.
