Something More
~ This article first appeared in The Leader-Vindicator newspaper. ~
During the years leading up to their decision to break ground for a power plant in Reesedale, PA, West Penn Power Company was being courted. Communities, desperate for industry, sent campaign managers to approach West Penn and offer their piece of ground as a sanctuary for the plant. Some begged and offered disorganized speeches. Others presented carefully considered plans to entice the Company. A few opted to take an aggressive approach, not accepting “no” for an answer. West Penn officials heard them all.
Results were not edifying. Nearly every proposal, from the most pitiful to the best organized, recited exactly the same offer of tax incentives, railroad and river access, and factory buildings.
Mr. C. M. Fife of West Penn lamented communities’ total lack of perspective in a speech during the groundbreaking ceremony. Fife warned that simply because the economy was ripe for expansion, opportunity itself isn’t an economic windfall; opportunity must be worked for. “Despite popular belief, offers of [attractive industrial incentives] will not guarantee the attraction of an industry. Thousands of communities throughout the country offer all these things.” In fact, West Penn wouldn’t even be considering the communities if they didn’t possess the attractions, so the attractions and incentives need barely mentioned because they are fundamentally required in the plan for this particular industry. Something more is needed.
What is it, exactly, that makes an entity stand out from the competition? Complex groundwork to support the necessary service, not the service itself, is the key to success. Fife was looking for a community that, with or without new industry, was fiercely intent on bettering itself. Towns that spent time and money on improved housing, utilities, schools, hospitals, and other amenities for the people who lived there were far more appealing than the towns that spent time and money advertising to attract industry money.
We can apply this folly from the 1950s to today’s local food scene without much imaginative difficulty: “Despite growing demand, offers of attractive agricultural practices will not guarantee the attraction of a customer. Thousands of farmers across the country offer all these things.”
And yet, it’s easy to thoughtfully repeat what everyone else is saying. Circumscribed advertisements for farms and their food flood social media, magazine articles, artisanal festivals, and downtown restaurants. Verbiage at a farmers market amongst similar growers is so uniform that one swears purveyors are reading from a secretly-shared script. Even grocery stores have adopted the “Better food for you, the environment, and our local farmers” mantra. It’s as though everyone is working very hard to say nothing at all.
Something more is needed.
As in industrial development, the necessary agricultural service – quality food raised well – must be supported by complex groundwork, and it is these supporting details that need presented to the consumer public for consideration. Presentation of these details is where the real work begins.
The effort to lay effective groundwork begins with clear and concise communication among the farm workers themselves. Everyone employed in the production and distribution of goods must understand the greater mission of betterment undertaken behind the scenes. A farm worker who believes the product for sale is an end in itself is similar to the town councilman who figures his crumbling borough on a riverbank is sufficient to bring in industry.
I’ve often quipped around the farm “This is what we do, and we happen to sell beef.” Emphasis is on effort behind the scenes, not the obvious final product, just like Industry Development committee members who emphasizes a new hospital wing and public water project that happens to be near a nice industrial site. That fine distinction sends a pretty clear message to the customer.
In the beef business, I’ve been highlighting the groundwork we’re laying to intercept local waste products and return them to valuable service.
Composting has proven extremely effective as a method to enable the reduction of waste via deliberate purchases. Our customers know that when they drink certain beer, use certain tree removal services, purchase local mushrooms, and buy our beef, the waste generated by those purchases is collected and composted for better gardening. Many people take heart knowing they can make a tangible difference in local waste reduction, and their education of the compost network happens to take place near a cooler full of carefully raised beef. That’s a powerful message.
More recently we’ve undertaken an endeavor to rescue the hides off our animals. We’ve partnered with a local tannery to create genuine Clarion Farms leather, a strong and indispensable good brought forth locally from an industry that has all but disappeared. Rather than wasting the hide or thoughtlessly shipping it off to who-knows-where, we’re adding value to it and plunging dollars back into our local economy. This project is still in the very early stages, and I keenly anticipate the challenge of bringing it to fruition. It’s an interesting story to tell to customers, and through the course of the conversation it becomes clear that beef is for sale, too.
These two endeavors, among others, are interesting to talk and learn about. If we simply hammered on the reality that we sell steaks, roasts, and ground beef, we’d sound just like every other meat shop and every other farm in every other town in the state. By emphasizing the groundwork behind the scenes at our farm, our story becomes unique and thus attracts curious customers who also want to buy beef. The distinction is significant.
How do you identify yourself? Do you lay careful groundwork in your life, or work hard to repeat what everyone else says? The distinction, my friends, is important.