Transcription
Welcome to Kansas, in the heart of the Midwest, otherwise known as the meat factory of the United States. They produce 3 million tons of beef here every year in these gigantic feedlots without a single blade of grass.
This model, which doesn't exist in Europe, is extremely controversial and comes under fire from animal rights and environmental activists.
Brett Shaw manages 6,500 cattle. "You got you got that one off that way. There's two."
But Brett doesn't breed cattle. His job is to take these animals and fatten them up as much as possible before sending them to the abattoir. "Well, you're looking for the the the most finished ones, the and the biggest ones. Um, see this calf, he's not very finished. He's not very big, but there there's some other cattle in here that are that are a lot bigger."
This is what they eat to fatten them up. "So, there's the final product. A rich mixture of popped corn mixed with cattle feed, minerals, and vitamins. It's served three times a day from a dump truck in enormous portions. They'll probably eat 35 lbs per head per day. Every single day, we want what's in front of them to be exactly the same every single day."
For Brett and his manager, Ryan, the animals must double in size in five months. "The heavier they get, the more they get paid."
"It's very important that we push those cattle to where they they'll eat as much as they can. I mean, we want them to we want them to be full all the time. You know, pounds pounds pay the bills. It's a competitive business because there's there's um competition to get those cattle into your feed yard. So, um, the better you can do that, the more consistent your customer base is going to be."
Their company turns over $15 million each year. Today, Brett is sending 200 animals to the abattoir. He feels it's a job well done as he watches them go. "Well, it's it's always a pleasure to be able to come up here and watch watch these fat cattle get loaded on the truck knowing knowing that we've done a good job and uh knowing they're going to a pack the packing plant to to to produce some high quality high quality beef. Nice big steaks. One at a time. One at a time. One at a time."
Steaks to be that will be eaten in the United States and all over the world. As the number one exporter of food stuffs in the world, America produces beef, corn, and even almonds in industrial quantities. Extra-large farming just like the extra-large country it is. The industry is worth $200 billion to US GDP. So, who are these farmers that feed the planet and who have gone from plows to the highest performing machinery in less than a century?
In Kentucky, the Raglands have been farming their land for 10 generations and have become agro businessmen. "There's a lot of opportunity, a lot of people around the world that need to eat. So, I think there's a bright future in agriculture."
Every year, the family attends the National Farm Machinery Show, which is a window into intensive farming with the most expensive and innovative combined harvesters on show. "This one's my baby. It's a hungry machine."
And the cherry on the cake is the tractor race. A noisy and frankly not very environmentally friendly spectacle. But can this always more style of farming really last? In a country renowned for junk food and obesity, many voices are speaking out against the dramatic consequences of intensive farming.
In California, the two global leaders in carrots have a monopoly on water resources in an already parched region. "They're giant corporations and they don't care about anything but money and power."
"We've got more pride than they've got money."
North Carolina is full of chicken factory farms which pollute the environment. "It's mindblowing. We cannot keep adding more of this waste and expecting mother earth to just say, 'Okay, keep bringing it.'"
In a system where profits reign supreme, it's often the small farmers that pay the price. "After 20 years working with the chicken industry, I lost everything."
But innovative farmers are trying to shake things up. "The past model is to use those synthetic products and we're we're saying that has to change."
We take a look at the excesses of the farming industry in the United States. In the heart of the fertile plains of Kentucky, in a town called Magnolia, we find the little house on the prairie. This is where Charlie Ragland lives. A strapping young lad who's just over 13 years old. He's already able to drive a tractor worth $250,000. "I worked like 16 hours yesterday. It'll probably be about that many today."
"You going to?" "Uh, yeah, a little bit."
It's May, and the teenager is preparing the soil on his family's huge farm for sowing. They have more than 2,000 hectares of land. American farms are 10 times bigger than European farms on average. Charlie may well only be 13, but he has a keen eye for detail. "Yep, there it is."
He has spotted an antler and managed to avoid serious damage. "If they're laying in the field kind of like this, you run over it and then the stub will poke in the tire and puncture it and then it starts leaking air. These tires are somewhere around $1,000. They're very expensive."
The Raglands are among the farmers that feed people all over the world. A far cry from the idyllic image of traditional farmers. Caleb, the father, is getting ready to sow corn, these bright green seeds. "We're putting in the hybrid seed store 113day maturity."
They brought these seeds from Channels of Bayer, the German agrochemical giant. "It's green. It has seed treatment on it uh to help protect it from bugs and diseases and so forth in the soil. Help it where more of it will come up."
"This one, let us see. All right, take this another time."
The seeds are boosted by chemical products to guarantee a maximum yield, including a herbicide which is perfectly legal and approved. "All right, here all good."
To this, Caleb will add another product delivered by his wife, Leanne. Nitrogen, the synthetic version of natural fertilizer. The whole family has been working flat out for two days, and the youngest, Carter, is starting to feel the effects. "Long day cuz it might be a late night. Nad."
With a turnover of $3 million, Caleb owns a thriving farm, and so he works long hours. Fortunately, his high-tech tractor practically drives itself. "End of each pass, we turn around, line it back up, hit the button, and we're good. So, that helps us where we can deal with things on the phone. I can watch the markets for wheat, corn. As as a farmer, I have to wear many hats. I have to do the business. I have to make sure the bills are paid. The technology helps us to uh be able to multitask much better."
The family has been farming this area in Kentucky for 200 years, and productivity has skyrocketed. "Often make yields over 200 bushels per acre of corn. Whereas, um, my grandfather, 30 years ago, 100 bushels an acre would have been a a really good yield. So, um, last 30 years, yields have basically doubled and, um, they continue to go up. So, that's good."
At the Ragland Farm, everything is super-sized. Just like these six big silos. As well as corn, the family also produces soya and wheat. "Easy. Now, back up just a little bit."
In this trailer, there is around $7,000 worth of wheat, which is destined for the production of McDonald's burger buns. "So yeah, we we are proud to be able to sell it to Americans all over and the world basically just having having our product in stores and restaurants and stuff all over the world. It's it's a good feeling."
Caleb, the father of the family, didn't learn how to manage his business just on the job. "You washed up, Carter."
He studied business for 4 years. He met his wife, Leanne, at university. "So, these were pictures from college. Um, I studied elementary education and then he got a degree in business. Um, so understanding the business side of farming because there's way more than just putting the seed in the ground."
Leanne was a townie living in sunny Florida, but she moved here, and so her life changed. "But as I told people when we got married that they have electricity, they have running water. I was not moving way far off. Even though I was raised in a neighborhood in the middle of the city, enjoyed the wide open spaces now. It's much better for the boys to be able to run and play outside."
"Carter, where'd you go?"
Like the vast majority of farmers, the Raglands are conservative and Republicans. They refuse to send their children to state schools. Instead, Leanne homeschools them, teaching lessons at home every morning. "Oh, we have a test. Perfect. We also would like to know what they're learning and be able to teach them um what we would like them to learn and not so much what the school wants everybody to learn."
After lessons, it's break time and then a long-awaited outing. "All right, y'all ready for the farm show?" "Yeah." "Yeah. It's been a year since we've been."
The family are leaving the farm for 4 days to head to Louisville, the largest city in Kentucky, where the biggest agricultural show in the United States is held every year, the National Farm Machinery Show.
To keep producing more and more, you need gigantic machines to match the size of American farms. More than 100,000 square meters are dedicated to the latest innovations. Giant drones to spread pesticides and fertilizer, machines to dry hay, and above all, the star of the show, this combine harvester worth almost $1 million. "Um, this one's my baby, so I'm very proud of it. But it doesn't act like a baby. It doesn't eat like a baby. It's a it's a hungry machine."
To admire it up close, you actually have to book your spot and then are given a guided tour like you're at a museum. "All right. With for those of you with a headset on, can you hear me already?" "Yep." "Okay. Very good. Whole design and development process of this machine was to look for ways that we could drive down and reduce the total cost of harvest."
The CR11 is the result of 10 years of research and definitely sparks interest among the crowd. "Are you guys interested in this combine? I mean, are you interested in the technology in this combine and some interesting stuff here?" "Yeah." "Looks like a lot of machines."
The Raglands wouldn't miss this event for the world. "I think this is my 38th National Farm Machinery Show. Every year I've been alive."
Even though they have what they need on their farm, the two youngest are very excited to try out the new models. "It's exciting cuz this one's nice and shiny and brand new, so they can see all the new things on it. So, it's like a line at Disney World. You get in line, wait your turn to get in the tractor and see it."
"Wait till they can get out. Got no fighting, no pushing."
And it suits Cody, aged 11. "You don't need the clutch in these tractors cuz these got push that forward or go like that. I can probably drive every single thing in here."
"We need to wait."
But the Raglands haven't come to the farm show just to dream and have fun. "That's a soybean."
Each morning of the show, they have a job to do: promote this legume on the stand of the American Soybean Board. "What do you like? A coloring book with Look, that's Buddy the Bean."
And crayons to go with it. "You're all set." Making $27 billion each year, the United States are the number one exporters of this plant in the world. It's a plant that guzzles water and is mainly used as animal feed. But Leanne prefers to highlight the other ways soya is used in our day-to-day lives. "So we have everything from motor oil to Alfredo sauce to queso to miracle whip and mayonnaise and then vegetable oil which is straight soybean oil."
The vast majority of American soya is genetically modified and not organic. The use of pesticides is not a problem for Leanne. "I like to give the example that if my child is sick, I'm going to take them to the doctor to get an antibiotic or something. So, if our crop is sick with weeds or some a pesticide or a pest or something, I'm we're going to spray it. We're going to treat treat the illness, but not overtreat it because that is um money out of our pocket."
Marketing in the morning and in the evening, a seat at the show's main attraction. "And now, Farm Credit Mid America proudly presents the most powerful sport on Earth."
Tractor racers transformed into a rural Formula 1. The aim is to pull a load of almost 5 tons to the end of a 100-meter track without going outside the white lines and going as far as possible. "Where's my?"
"It's so loud it's practically torture. And the amount of pollution isn't much better."
"This big pipe evacuates the exhaust fumes."
"All right, y'all find a seat."
The Raglands are big fans of the sport, especially the boys. "Yeah. Who's going to win tonight?" "Red or green? That one right there."
The reds from the agricultural machinery manufacturer Case versus the greens from John Deere. "There's a lot of competition between red and green. And I like green. Charlie likes red way better."
"They love this because it's a competition of who's better, who's king of the hill almost. Um, so that's it's clearly a guy's thing. All right, fans. So, we check our leaderboard and of course the fine people that are sponsoring."
We're back in Kansas, the epicenter of meat production in the United States. Brett's Feed Lot is working at full capacity to produce the notorious hormone-treated American beef. This afternoon, they're receiving around 30 calves that are a year and a half old. "Come on, man."
And the welcoming committee is a bit brutal. Each calf has to go through the compressor, which keeps them still. "Uh uh 413 Brett."
The newcomers are getting their ID tags, a dose of five vaccines, a dewormer, and so that they grow quickly, the manager Ryan is injecting them with the small growth hormone implant in their ear. Among other hormones, it contains estradile and trenbolone acetate. These hormones have been banned in Europe since the '90s for health risks. But in terms of weight gain, they offer guaranteed results. "598. There's a pin over here where we implanted 10 of them and we didn't implant 10 of them. And you can see they've grown apart in and just one of them has converted better, done a lot better. The other ones are still quite a bit smaller. Good."
The Shaw family have been fattening cattle for three generations now. 60 years ago, Brett's grandfather started off with 800 cattle. Then Brett's father, Bill, took over. "This is a photograph from 1979. I'm right here, and this is my dad, '70s style with the long hair. It's grown significantly over the years, some of the original pens that are up here. But over time, people's mindsets have radically changed."
Beef is the meat with the highest carbon footprint due to the methane produced by the animals. But this doesn't bother Bill, who has a well-practiced argument. "I do this with presentations. Which would you say is the worst for the environment? This or this? And I'm not pointing the finger at anybody else, but I'm just saying if if the finger is being pointed at us to do something, we need to point the finger at the rest of the world, too, and how we do business."
Bill and his son Brett are not about to change the way they work, especially as they believe they look after their cattle well. They have a very different life before they end up in their feedlot. This is Katie, Brett's wife. She's a farmer and looks after around 30 calves at the moment, which she'll then send on to her husband. This is how the meat production chain works in the United States. "Hey girls, she is a very good customer. Yes, I really enjoy working with her. Um, and she treats me really well."
Surprising as it might seem, Katie doesn't see any issue in going from these wide open spaces to the small pens at the feedlot. "Everybody loves seeing the cows out grazing on the grass, but um they're the featured really it's very clean. They keep they clean their pens constantly. Um, and it's actually it's um it's not a bad thing. I I mean, it's they spend 120, 140 days at the feedlot max out of their whole life. Um, that's it. Otherwise, they're out here."
All alone in the middle of these dry plains, Brett and his wife live in this big house at the heart of Katie's ranch without a neighbor for miles. For them, meat is almost sacred. "Son, Holy Spirit. Amen." "Amen."
Americans are among the biggest carnivores on the planet, consuming twice as much per person per year as in Europe. "This is one one of my favorite cuts of meat. Um, everybody likes steak, which is awesome, too, but this is to me is is very good as well." "Okay." "Oh." "Oh my."
"Are you hungry?"
The Shaws hope that the fourth generation will carry on the family business despite ever stronger criticism. "Yeah. Are those your cats?"
"Well, those people don't really fully understand our industry. People are so disconnected from the farm now. 2% of Americans farm." "Maybe less than that actually." "It's not much." "It's very small. And you can see there's not very many people here."
In fact, in their part of the industry, the Shaws are quite small players because in Kansas, there are enormous feedlots holding 50,000 or even over 100,000 cattle. Most of these are located around Dodge City. A small farming town in the middle of nowhere with very little hustle and bustle. The 30,000 people who live here are strongly impacted by the two large abattoirs in the town, as they're the main employers of 6,000 workers. These abattoirs are run by the two giants of the industry, National Beef and Cargill, generating $177 billion in revenue between them. They're running an agricultural empire but promote themselves as local producers. "Locally focused, a family company. At Cargill, we nourish the world. All of those trucks that you see, they're all refrigerated. They can transport frozen frozen meat. One day that they stop, it affects restaurants all over the world."
Joel Tus worked in the abattoirs for a year. Now he's a pastor in Dodge City. "I I don't know if you're aware, but the amount of cows they kill every day, it's at least I think it's about 3,000 per shift every day. So it's about 6 to 7,000 a day in one plant, plus the other plant. So that's a lot. Yeah. It's sad. It's sad to see, you know, they bring the cows and the cows get out. You're like, 'Oh, I don't know.' So it's it's it's but this city said we'll do it in this area of the world said we'll we'll do it."
But it hasn't made Pastor Joel become a vegetarian. "Good morning church. Good morning church. How are we doing?"
In his church, he's a leader of the Latino community. This is the community that works in the abattoirs, an immigrant workforce, as they're the only ones who will take these difficult jobs which Americans generally don't want to do anymore. 70% of people living in Dodge City are South Americans. "We are dismissed church. Be blessed. Have a wonderful day."
Pastor Joel is originally from Guatemala. His wife, who's also a pastor, is from Mexico. Together they help newcomers who have come to Kansas to work in the abattoirs. Bernavala is Colombian and moved to Dodge City 8 months ago. Joel and Karina often visit her to cheer her up. A single mother, Bernabella has to juggle exhausting work at the Cargill factory and raising her 11-year-old daughter in a country she doesn't know. packing. At 55 years old, she's worried she's going to lose all feeling in her fingers due to the repetitive work in the cold.
Bernavlla earns $22 per hour, which is a fair salary in the United States. But once she's paid her rent for the modest house she shares with another family, she doesn't have much left over. Her life is one of hard work and sacrifice. But at the other end of the chain, profits are at a record high. Four multinationals have cornered the meat industry, controlling 85% of the market. In the US, they're nicknamed the big four: Cargill, Marfrig, a Brazilian business that owns National Beef, Tyson, and JBS, another Brazilian multinational. Combined, they turn over $73 billion.
Cla Callaway is an agro-industry specialist. In the aisles of her local supermarket, she informs us of a deceptive marketing technique, the illusion of choice for American consumers. "So, we can see what looks like a lot of options, a lot of different companies, but a lot of them aren't what they appear to be. So, I feel like this bacon is a good example. You know, these look like three different choices of bacon. They're all actually the same company. Same with this Adele's. It looks like a really, you know, artisanal, nice product. Um, but this is another brand that's owned by Tyson Foods. This is a Tyson brand. This is a Tyson brand."
The agro-industry empire split into a multitude of global brands. For example, JBS owns more than 100 different brands. "It really keeps going."
Even worse, the big four have been accused of price fixing so that they can sell to consumers at a higher price. This national scandal was personally denounced by President Joe Biden. "Demanding more competition. I'm a capitalist. But capitalism without competition is not capitalism. Capitalism without competition is exploitation. It drives up profits. Guess what? You got four basic meat packing facilities. That's it. You play with them or you don't get to play at all."
"And you pay a hell of a lot more. A hell of a lot more because there's only four."
And according to Clare Callaway, measures to regulate the sector haven't borne any fruit for the moment. "They've begun to sue them for price fixing and anti-competitive behavior, but it's resulted in mostly fines to the companies, which for them can just be a cost of doing business. These companies are used to telling government what to do. They're not used to being held accountable. The agro-industry spends more money lobbying than the defense industry. It's yeah, one of the biggest political influences in DC and they have a ton of sway not just over Congress but especially over federal agencies."
And while the giants of the meat industry are strongly criticized, other powerful companies in the agro-industry are accused of monopolizing resources. A cape in Western California. With its temperate climate, this region is nicknamed America's vegetable garden. Bordering the Pacific Ocean, you'll find the biggest producers of strawberries and lettuce, as well as artichokes. Like here in Castroville, the unexpected and self-proclaimed artichoke center of the world. Here you can try the green vegetable in all sorts of sauces and even in desserts.
However, soil temperature is rising, and a battle for water rages, especially in Kuyama, the driest area in the county of Santa Barbara. It's home to the two world leaders in carrots, Grimway and Bolthouse. To maintain their yields, these companies pump 70% of groundwater, which is the only water resource in the valley. This situation enrages locals like Jake and Charlie, two small farmers and leaders of a revolt. "I've got a couple of these." "I've got probably like 15 in the town site that we got to get."
"Okay. This is the basic message we're trying to get out is for people to stand with us against the corporate greed that we're dealing with. Um, and boycotting Bolt House Farms and Grimway Farms, boycotting carrots. I feel like we as a community, we completely got sucker punched. I mean, we just totally got punched in the face by them."
"We can't just turn around and just let them push us around. I mean, we're not going to be bullied just because, you know, we're, you know, small farmers. We call, you know, David versus Goliath. You know, we're the small guy versus the very large guy."
These two friends have known each other since high school. After working in the police and the army, they came back home to settle down in the valley. Jake manages a ranch, and Charlie has recently planted an orchard, which he waters sparingly using a drip system. So seeing 7,000 hectares of carrot fields being continuously watered from March to September makes them see. "More land that definitely wasn't plowed when Jake and I were in high school. Um, and you can see from here that it sprawls all the way back to the mountains. Now."
Carrot farming requires hundreds of automatic sprinklers. A system that causes a lot of waste as some of the water evaporates, especially when it's hot. "You can see right here, especially in the sunlight, how these sprinklers are going to go and they're going to go for months, months, and they'll just keep moving it, but they'll keep moving it down the section here, but they'll water for like eight hours a time right here on this section."
"What they're pumping right now, right now as we speak, in probably five minutes of their pumping is more than what I'll pump in one year."
Last year, Grimway and Bolthouse pumped more than 35 million cubic meters of water to the point where the water table has reached a critical threshold in some places, as indicated in red on the map. So Jake and Charlie want to convince locals and tourists passing through the area to join their fight. "How are you guys?" "Where do you want me to put them?" "We had them right there." "Okay."
Most of the 600 inhabitants of Kuyama are behind them. "How are you, sir?" "Well, thank you." The only hotel restaurant in the village has even just launched a special boycott menu. "Not too bad. You stay out of trouble." "No, I want to try the special." "So that'd be awesome."
It's a spring salad with carrots, but these come from a small producer, not from Bolthouse or Grimway. "Situation. We'll see. I I mean This is my first carrot since the boycott started." "Very good. Thank you, sir."
The beginnings of the conflict go back to 2014. Following an historic drought, California ordered its counties to create a water management plan and to anticipate usage restrictions. But Bolthouse and Grimway contested the plan in court. Even worse, in order to monopolize the resource, they went as far as attacking all users of water in the area. "How's it going, Lee?" "Jake, how you doing?" "Good. How are you?" "Mr. Lee. How are you?" "Good, good, good."
"This is the original paperwork from 2021. Basically, you have the plaintiffs, which is uh Bolthouse Land Company, Grimway Enterprises, Diamond Farming Company, Lapis Land Company."
"They they against all persons claiming to write to extract or store groundwater in the Quyama Valley."
"If you have a stake here in the Quyama Valley, you're getting sued." "Yeah." "Their tactic here is to put that strain on us because if we drop out of this lawsuit, if we stop being represented, then basically they get to move forward with whatever they want to do."
"It's a grotesque situation. To guarantee their right to the water, all owners have to defend themselves, and the legal fees are astronomical. They have already cost Charlie $14,000, and Lee Harrington, who manages a large pistachio farm, has already spent more than $50,000."
"This is our monthly fees to the attorneys. This is a bottom line right now. You just conserve. You know, we haven't had vacations. We me and my wife, we haven't went anywhere zero. You know, it's just you just, you know, I'm not as young as I used to be and I we need to hire a guy, but I I'm not I can't do it."
"You know, you" "That's a guy right there." "That's a guy. That's a guy. That's a guy right there." "Yeah."
And the nightmare doesn't end there. Because it's not just farmers that have to defend themselves to keep their right to water. Individuals, too. And even public services like this small state school in Kuyama, led by Alfonso Gamino. Their legal fees have already reached $20,000, even though the school is short of funds. "Hey Terry, just want to see if you have the uh legal fees budget." "Oh yeah." "Can can we review real quick?" "Sure." "All right. So what do we have?" "This is last year. So this is a very simple report when we started doing this."
"I was hoping that they would leave the schools out because the schools are government schools really. So, I I would I was thinking at first we did not get this notice. So, I'm thinking, 'Oh, good. Maybe they're going to leave the school out.' And uh that's what I was hoping that I was very optimistic. But then we got the letter."
"$20,000 for us. We can do a lot with that. Uh computers for the students, uh our teachers, you know, just keeping our teachers employed."
"My biggest fear is that this just may be the beginning. We may spend this $25,000 and we may still be in this case for the next 10 years, 15 years."
These legal proceedings threaten the future of the school and of Kuyama's children. "Okay? Be very careful with the water. We don't want to spill it unless we go on the plant. We don't want to waste water." "Beautiful."
We requested an interview with the two carrot companies, but they refused to answer our questions. In the United States, intensive farming is draining resources and may also be profoundly damaging for the environment.
Now we head to North Carolina, a state which has specialized in chicken farming on an industrial scale. In these gigantic factory farms, 1 billion chickens are raised each year, one on top of the other, without ever seeing the light of day. Larry Baldwin from the association Waterkeepers is keen to call out this type of farming. "Hey Reagan." "Hey." "How you doing my friend?" "Just great." "Good. Good to see you again." "Good to see you."
According to this environmental activist, "be off the ground very quickly." "This industry is now out of control. Look out here. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. Just seeing co after co. That's these big white buildings."
In this region, chicken farming has increased more than 30% in 20 years because it's very easy to get started in the business. "So now you don't have to get a permit to raise poultry. All you have to have is a building permit from your local county government. So the state doesn't even know where they are. We have more information than the state of North Carolina does as to where these facilities are located."
"We're going to go to the other side of the field and drop this."
Again, it's just it's one of those things that you're you know, your mind just want to go boom. It's it's mindblowing that we've gotten to that point and the state government is protecting these industries against the will of the public for the benefit of the public."
According to the associations, there are almost 5,000 farms in North Carolina today. But this industry has a severe impact on the environment. According to the activists, in Larry and his colleague Jeff's view, this is one of the biggest chicken farms in the country with a total of 48 buildings. "I've never heard of any having more barns in one place. I estimated that every year this operation would have 8 1/2 to 11 1/2 million birds."
These fans, which regulate the temperature inside the buildings, release ammonia, a gas created by the chicken waste coming into contact with their litter. This gas is toxic to the environment. And then you have to add the incredible amount of waste generated by the chicken coops, which is more than 20,000 tons per year. "We've heard estimates of between four and 4 and a half pounds of waste per chicken in its lifetime. It is staggering the amount of waste that's being produced in this very concentrated area. Our environment can't sustain it. It can't handle it."
This manure is then spread untreated in the fields or ends up in the waterways. There are no control measures carried out. A few kilometers from here, residents are in a living hell. This hamlet is right next to a chicken farm and an industrial pixie. Anne, her sister Linda in the hat, and her daughter Tiaka breathe in an unbearable acrid smell every day. "That right there, that's closest you can get cuz basically they're in my back door, right?"
"Y'all smell it?" "Mhm." "Y'all smell it? You smell it coming from this way?" "Mhm." "And that's just a little bit. That's just a little bit of what you normally smell. The smell would be so bad. It would take your breath."
"It takes your breath. And it smells so strong that you feel you taste it. Yeah." "When you swallow, you open your mouth, you taste it. I hate it." "Right."
"But this is where I'm from. This is where I was born and raised. I'm not going nowhere. That need to go. They need to do something about that."
Tap water in Anne's house is no longer drinkable. The family has to buy bottled water. And what's worse, the three women say they're suffering from respiratory problems. But above all, they lament the early deaths of several members of their family, including their mother, who died 11 years ago. "My mom always had this um she couldn't stand smells." "No, she had real real bad allergies and coughs all the time." "Mhm. And that was that was way before she even got cancer. It's all cuz she's all she's always lived here."
"And then not only my mom had cancer." "And when you got when you got like five people in one community and all of them come down with cancer." "Yes, sir." "All of them." "And they live here." "Mhm. It's impossible to say if there's a direct link between these deaths and industrial farming, but a recent American study showed that people living near chicken factory farms had a 66% higher chance than others of developing respiratory diseases."
"We found 66% increased odds of CAP diagnosis."
A 2-hour drive away, he has one of those older intensive farms. Here, Tom Lim raises 400,000 chickens per year. Today, he condemns the industry and depicts it as a machine designed to destroy both people and animals. "You can see it's all white in and um it got no room to walk and it's just crowded. It's too tight inside."
26 years ago, he became a farm contractor to one of the global poultry giants, Pilgrims, a subsidiary of JBS, which you'll remember is one of the big four. Full of hope, Tom borrowed a lot of money to build these fully equipped buildings. "Uh, first I'm very proud. I think that this business will make me have a lot of money, will make me rich or something. So we own the farm, we own the land, we own the chicken house, we own everything. We don't own a chicken. We just own the land and everything. But a company own a chicken. So they bring us chicken for us to take care and they pay us for like for baby seat like we do like babysit for them."
Very quickly, Tom realized the company had him by the throat. His client demanded higher yields. He couldn't keep up. "They they ask me more like to to upgrade. So I have to went go to the bank borrow more money different bank and upgrade even though the company like give me a hard time give me a lot of stress give me a lot of pressure doing this do that or you don't or you don't have chicken or something like that I have to stay quiet and keep on working."
After 20 years, everything fell apart. Tom's chicken sheds were judged to be obsolete. He lost his contract with Pilgrims. Crippled by debt, he barely had enough to live on.
That's until he met this man. "How you doing today?" "I'm good. How doing?" "I'm good." "Yeah. Good to see you. Yes."
Tyler Whitley campaigns for sustainable agriculture and helps factory farmers to change career paths. Through his company, Transformationation, he financed the launch of a new business for Tom: mushroom farming. "Yeah." "Yeah. These look a little small here." "Yeah." "And these, but these look good during the harvest."
This business is more ethical, organic, quick, and profitable. And it requires $10,000 of investment. "What's really great about this kind of work is that Tom's in control. So, like you see, he only has some of this space filled because he wants to start slow and he wants to build a a sustainable business, but once he has enough customers, he can fill the whole space."
"They buy a lot." "Okay."
As well as the mushroom farm, Tom and Tyler have started another big project just next door. "Yeah, having a greenhouse always my dream, you know, and it's come true." Here's one of his old chicken sheds, which will soon be converted into a 30-meter long greenhouse. Tom will grow all sorts of fruit and vegetables there, which he'll then sell straight from the farm. "You can make a lot of money out of this, Tom." "Okay, just remember I don't keep that money. Okay."
Tom and Tyler are sure they'll be easily able to find customers. In the United States, demand for organic produce is constantly growing. The movement is driven by a few pioneers.
In California, close to Dairy, we meet a farmer whose methods are simpler and healthier. Rosie Burrows is a passionate environmentalist and rodeo fan, as the rest of her family. "We This is our our pleasure, our enjoyment. So instead of going to uh uh Disneyland or something like that, this is where cowboys come and have fun. This is about working with the herd in a quiet fashion."
This Sunday morning, she's come along to support her son, her grandson, and her husband, Ward, fit as a fiddle on his horse at 72 years of age. "So, I'm lucky that I have a a beautiful horse takes care of me and he knows more than I do. I know that."
The couple champion a back-to-basics approach and have thrown themselves into organic farming. This way of farming is very much in the minority in the United States. Just 1% of farmed land is organic compared to 10% in the EU. "That Oh, that's enormous. No, it's all right. You're fine."
On Rosie and Ward's land, chickens are raised out in the open. They're able to scratch the earth and eat grass, worms, and insects at their leisure. "It's It's unfortunate that around 1950 um the way all of us were taught is about the goal being maximum production with high inputs. And now our paradigm shift is going for working with mother nature, but also about caring for all of all the ecosystems that are part of the planet."
On their 3,000-hectare farm, sheep graze between the trees and cows graze pastures in rotation. "Come on. Come on." "Okay, here they come. Come on."
Which means they always have fresh grass. Rosie and her husband Ward are also pioneers of what is called regenerative farming. Its main principle is cultivating healthy soil. Here's a traditional almond field versus Rosie and Ward's field, which is a lot greener. "Okay, let's crack that out. This is amazing right here."
Around their almond trees, the couple have planted a whole range of different plants. "This is a pea that we've planted, nitrogen fixer. This this vine, that's this vine that that we're looking at."
This allows underground microorganisms to develop and keeps the soil cool. "What we're after is trying to cover this soil. During the summertime, our soils, it's so hot here that that if we can cover, if we can keep this ground covers, we can we can make a difference with two or three degrees Fahrenheit."
"All right, let's see what we got here." "And the soil texture. How does it feel?" "Yeah, it's really moistened. Pretty nice." "You think?" "Yeah. There you get you've got some micro micro. We found 30 worms and one shovel full right in the middle of cold winter and frost. It was just amazing to see all the life in it. Yeah, that's beautiful word. Yeah."
The soil is rich thanks to the radically different technique, but it does require more work, which in turn equals an extra cost to the consumer. Rosie and Ward's almonds are 30% more expensive. "The only other thing we have to do is we have to make sure that that these products are accepted in the marketplace. So the consumers consumers have to support the farmers that are doing this otherwise nothing works."
The couple advocate for awareness. In the United States, the organic market makes up just 6% of sales.