Tom Keane

A bitter reality

Choose local food for the taste? Sure. But if you’re convinced you’re saving the world, think again.

“Local food’’ is all the rage, touted by adherents as offering better food, an environmentally responsible lifestyle, and self-sufficient communities. The first of those claims is sometimes true. Local tomatoes and corn may well taste better than those from afar. Beyond that, though, the local food movement is an affectation based on bad logic and bad economics, one that, widely adopted, would actually harm the environment and potentially impoverish millions. Particularly here in New England, it would also turn mealtimes into dull, pallid affairs.

Luckily, chances are slim that most of us will become ardent “locavores” (the most extreme of whom will eat only foods sourced within 100 miles of their homes). We like bananas and pineapples, want fresh vegetables year round, and enjoy olive oil and balsamic vinegar on our salads. Principles have their limits, and even as we might pay homage to the wonders of local foods, most of us are not about to give up those or the myriad other things we eat and drink that have to travel a distance.

And that’s not a problem, because local food is not greener food. Locavores’ green claims rest on the seemingly obvious assumption that transporting foods a long distance is environmentally taxing. But, in fact, shipping is a small portion of the total carbon footprint of any foodstuff, averaging just 4 percent, according to a 2008 Carnegie Mellon University analysis. It’s the production of the food itself that is far more damaging, and it’s here that the mega-farms some decry have an edge. They produce more with fewer people, can effectively use machinery, are located in places where conditions are ideal for growing, and have the skills and know-how to maximize food production per acre. That’s the reason local tomatoes are so much more expensive than those shipped from California and Florida: They are more resource-intensive to produce.

Which gets us to the biggest piece of nonsense trumpeted by locavores: the dream of the self-sustaining local economy. I understand some get a warm and fuzzy feeling about family farms and getting to know the hard-working folks who produce their food. It may get us back in touch with our roots, but it’s a ridiculous way to run an economy. Most of us intuitively understand that it would be irrational to have, say, microchip factories in every city and town in America, but for some reason we still cling to the notion that it’s better if we have farmers scattered all about.

Far from it. The hallmark of civilization has been specialization. Grain is best grown on the Great Plains because the region is blessed with the right soil, terrain, and climate. New England, on the other hand, is good for fishing and producing cranberries, maple syrup, and cheeses, to name a few, because of our unique natural resources and our skills. If locavores really had their way, the residents of the Great Plains would never get to taste our lobsters, cranberry juice, and other products, eventually hurting our fishing and farming industries. This goes back to one of the classic principles of economics: Trade is good. It allows everybody to do better, not only in material terms, but also in terms of enriching the quality of their lives. Personally, I think I’m better off enjoying a good bar of chocolate now and then. If locavores really had their way, that opportunity would be lost to me.

But take this further, beyond the United States and to the entire world. Suppose, for instance, that we all did become locavores, swearing off coffee. All we’d end up doing would be hurting the people who do grow coffee beans. Countries such as Colombia and Ethiopia depend upon coffee for a significant portion of their gross domestic product. If people elsewhere decided to no longer buy coffee -- or even simply reduced coffee consumption because of some sense that “I should try to eat local” -- then those already marginal countries would become much poorer. Think through the implications, and the people who would suffer would be those who could least afford it.

Don’t get me wrong. I have no objection to buying delicious foods that happen to be locally grown. But to buy merely because something is local smacks of nativism and protectionism. Locavores argue that there is an ethical dimension to their movement. There is. But not one that works in its favor.

Originally published in The Boston Globe Magazine, June 28, 2009.

Together no more

Is a GOP governor needed to balance the Democratic Legislature? One Democrat keeps bolstering the case.

I never interpreted candidate Deval Patrick's 2006 slogan of "Together We Can" as a claim that from unity comes power or some such nonsense. Rather, it was a direct attack on the compelling argument that had spurred Massachusetts voters -- despite their clear lack of conservative sympathies -- to elect a governor from the GOP for the prior 16 years: that only a Republican could be trusted to keep the Democratic-controlled Legislature in check. Patrick contended the contrary: a Democratic monopoly was no bad thing, and reform -- and real political progress -- could in fact come from within.

Just over two years into Patrick's term, it's fair to say that the validity of that argument is in serious doubt.

The problem every governor faces is the Legislature. In caricature, the House and Senate are dens of self-interested inward-turning thieves and dimwitted clowns maniacally raising taxes and abusing the public trust. I don't buy all that; I know too many individual legislators who are smart and committed and genuinely believe in public service. Still, the Legislature does itself no favors. Its members and leaders have been under fire for alleged corruption, while current controversies over pension abuses and ethics reform only underscore the sense that someone -- namely, the governor -- is needed as a counterweight. Instead, Patrick has seemingly become part of the same toxic system.

The most obvious sign of that is Patrick's use of patronage. Examples abound, including Milton neighbor Dana Harrell (named director of real estate services), steering campaign committee member Martina Jackson (communications director at the Department of Elder Affairs), and campaign driver Mark Conrad (chairman of the state Parole Board). And then, of course, there was the Marian Walsh saga. That appointment to a $175,000 job, an apparently unnecessary position (it had been unfilled for a dozen years), dominated headlines for weeks.

On top of that, the governor has seemed curiously out of touch with the electorate and the good government rhetoric he once espoused. Even if you chalk up some early missteps to growing pains -- initially using taxpayer money to redecorate his office or traveling to New York to hawk a book proposal during a critical vote on gambling -- he's shown he has a tin ear for politics. He brought in James Aloisi, blamed by many as the cause of the Big Dig's problems -- ostensibly to clean up those very messes. He has spent vast amounts of time off the job; 60 weekdays in his term so far, according to a Globe analysis of his schedule. And his dismissal of any criticism often has an elitist tone (for example, he first described concerns about the Walsh appointment -- which never came to pass -- as "trivial").

All of this has taken its toll. Earlier this year a poll commissioned by WBZ-TV showed just 27 percent voicing approval of the governor and a stunningly high 68 percent disapproving. Those numbers don't bode well for reelection.

One tactic that Patrick seems to be considering is remaking himself into an outsider, emulating the GOP governors who preceded him by taking on the Legislature rather than trying to work with it. Republicans, on the other hand, will argue that the issue is less Patrick than it is the Democratic hegemony. An insider to the party cannot simultaneously be an outsider. The pressure for jobs, political rewards, and horse-trading are too powerful. A Democratic governor just can't keep other Democrats honest.

It's an argument voters have bought before, and, if the GOP nominates a credible candidate, one it seems they might buy again. With just 11.6 percent of Massachusetts voters registered as Republicans, it's clear the key to GOP success in 2010 will not be ideology but independence. There are several candidates out there who could meet that test: Charlie Baker (head of Harvard Pilgrim Health Care), Christy Mihos (the convenience-store king), and state Senator Scott Brown (best known as the father of former American Idol contestant Ayla Brown). All care more about fiscal issues than the hard-right social issues that seem to define the party nationally (though Mitt Romney's election is proof Massachusetts voters will sometimes disregard such matters in their desperation to find someone to ride herd over the Legislature). Next year's election likely will show voters concluding that, the governor's hopes notwithstanding, together we can't.

Originally published in The Boston Globe Magazine, June 21, 2009. Photo by Pat Greenhouse.